Anatase /hisrol/ The Backrooms Final

The Backrooms Final

Rolero Danburite-ed8c1b No.5661 es
fa69fef8127d1a88d7fb9e817619d2959ed273a9e4639c5683b1013708dd4169.png
4.98 MB 1920×1080
f58b7bda0fa82e4be896e3ab2cd535a8258dc719d2522bb05cd17480fd0507be.jpg
33 KB 754×609
92a2df78cbbbfc6c1b06a55ee4aa001f170e34a961002fa94b20b614af78bacc.gif
3.12 MB 2500×2000
164d58813d2f99170cb2c704f133a83e4a1b0438f1d96c8a4f76e447a51b57d1.jpg
184 KB 585×416
You cross a door. You press a random floor of an elevator. You walk distractedly down a hallway. The reasons are varied and generally unimportant to what presents itself. You end up in an unknown dimension, the closest place to limbo, the space between spaces.

Welcome to the end of the Backrooms.

...

<Environment Tutorial
-Each floor has its different rules, some may share mechanics, others may not. It's up to each wanderer to figure it out.
-There are 2 modes, Exploration and Safe. "Exploration" is when you move through the level. "Safe" is when you are in a camp or resting place, either your own or someone else's.
-In Exploration, each turn is one hour of time. In Safe mode, time does not pass unless you sleep or perform an action that involves passing hours.
-You gain 1 point for your stats each time you overcome a Backroom for the first time. This reward grows the higher the level.
-There are weapons and equipment, economies, and groups of neutral, or hostile human (and non-human) characters.
-At the beginning, you have no weapons or tools. At most, you have one or two everyday objects in your pockets.
-When you are in Exploration mode, you must roll a 1d50 die, no exceptions. This will determine the events that occur each turn. You can roll multiple times to advance several hours (the latter is recommended).

<Dice Tutorial in Battles
-Roll two 1d50 dice, the first or left determines the damage, your attack strength. The second is for speed to see if you hit, block, or dodge first, for which it must be a roll higher than the enemy's. You don't miss unless something makes you miss.
-Effort Mode: For every point of energy you decide to spend, you can apply a +2 to your left or right dice, or a +1 to each die. You can activate effort mode during any fight or physical and mental action. Just remember one thing, and that is if your energy reaches 0, you will fall asleep.

<Regarding Combat Experience
The adversary's stats determine how many experience points are gained upon victory. The higher the adversary's rank, the more experience it offers. I will use an entity as an example.

-The Window
HP: 400 (Rank B) 4 points.
-Strength: 12 (Rank D) 2 points.
-Agility: 12 (Rank D) 2 points.
-Endurance: 4 (Rank E) 1 point.

Defeating a window would grant 9 experience points. If you fight alongside other PCs or NPCs, the experience is divided among the parties. If there are leftover points, whoever dealt the most damage to the enemy gets the remainder.

>List of First Ranks
E 0 - 10.
D 11 - 20.
C 21 - 30.
B 31 to 40.
Etc.
Rolero Painite-7efd76 No.5662 vi
>>5661
Is there room?
Rolero Danburite-ed8c1b No.5663 es
3145261f1a6ce8ed01bad88678bf68f80f3f6cf701de65076277fe67a9f5a640.webp
70 KB 640×640
>>5662
Sorry, no.

>Players
<Marie Griffin (Day 52, Hour 9)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 69/70
Hunger: 21/21 - Thirst: 21/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 9
-Endurance: 16 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 2/4
Super-Cell (Off. Charge 14/16)
Joseph's Charger
-Pink Backpack 6/10
Pencil
Notebook
Almond Water Bottle (15/15)
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White Cat Headband
>Recent Events
-Rescued Luz, who is no longer a robot, and helped resolve the antiverse threat
-Healed her traumas and returned to a normal, happy rhythm of life, in tune with her friends
-Noted

<Maverick Spark (Day 60, Hour 13)
HP: 125/130
Energy: 90/90
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 14
-Agility: 14
-Endurance: 11
-Luck: 2
Inventory:
-Pockets 0/4
Abilities:
-Sixth Sense (Passive): Alerts you to nearby danger and grants you a +25 Agility bonus during the first reaction
>Recent Events
-Fell into a coma
-Woke up from the coma
-Noted

<Aurora (Day 18. Hour 5)
HP: 120/120
Energy: 70/70
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 2 + 10 Miko Kankaku
-Agility: 6 + 10 Miko Kankaku
-Endurance: 2 + 10 Miko Kankaku
-Luck: 4 + 2 Experience Points in Reserve
Inventory:
-Pockets 1/4
Handkerchief
-Techniques:
Free Chest Jutsu: Prevents airborne bodily contamination. Requires a certain level of concentration to maintain, therefore cannot be used simultaneously with other techniques.
>Recent Events
-Became the heir to the power of the Iwamoto clan
-Wanders lost in the forest of memories, choking on recollections
-Noted?

<Donatello Lombardi (Day 30, Hour 15)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 38/70
Hunger: 18/31 - Thirst: 23/40
-Strength: 5 + ? Lark's Nutcracker
-Agility: 5
-Endurance: 7 + 5 Hazmat Suit (Anti-radiation. Child-sized)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 1/4
Emma
Techniques:
-Bat Breaker: For one turn, uses 1d100 rolls. Sacrifices the wielded bat.
>Recent Events
-Left Marcos behind to go solve his own problems
-Ended up lost in time
-Was rescued by an alternate version of his sister, the second-to-last one
-Recuperó su humanidad con the help of God and joined the group of cement nomads
-Helped rescue Polar
-Traveling toward level 10 in search of shelter from the weather and other problems

<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, hour 9)
HP: 80/80
Energy: 99/100
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 20/21
-Strength: 8
-Agility: 10 - 5 Orange stellar cloak
-Endurance: 10 + 5 Orange stellar cloak
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 0/4
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewinds one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.
>Recent events
-New body, new name
-Failed in the business path, her lemonade business didn't flourish, but at least she made a new friend who visits to play
-The problems of level 10 threaten to devour her

<Catherine Hills (Day 17. Hour 14)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 65/70
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 19/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4
-Luck: 3 + 0 Hilda's necklace
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by CH Pickles.
Little dictionary
Pencil
Notebook
>Recent events
-Hilda is now her best friend, and maybe something more?
-She's tamed, and for some reason that's a good thing
-Exploring the infinite attic in the company of the tomboy

<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 8, hour 15)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 0/50
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 18/20
-Strength: 11x2
-Agility: 10x2 - 10 Group supply bag
-Endurance: 11x2 + 15 Modified Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 2/4
Thalasin (30/30)
Brayan
Skills:
Werewolf (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.
-Effects
Insomnia (111/1964)
>Recent events
-Still lost in the future
-Embarked on an expedition, though it wasn't his plan
-He's terminally ill and needs to keep administering Thalasin
Rolero Shattuckite-a6e0c0 No.5664 en
412a54c4c3b20083b3299cd9b58b3216f8be2124bbd2ce3c9158bad0a4ff3322.png
253 KB 416×340
>>5661
>Final
NOOOOOOOO
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5665 es
70126aed109386816147d1f64e798b02e884181143094a5f26754e9c98b07218.jpg
296 KB 1200×1821
cb0a78d0ec96b604bd7d486b99d626050bf6883ffc3cdf11ff4bdb2fd499af0f.gif
148 KB 640×630
>>120842
Yeah right? I thought it fit pretty well too kek
>Marie
Red earth is a good place for minerals, red hair for acid-spitting moths... Marie asks if they're dangerous

<I never said that.

"T-then why are you asking!" -she gets flustered, Luz laughs- "L-Luz?!"

It's just a joke, Marie eventually relaxes... more or less.

"Very funny, Luz. Very funny..."

She pretends to be offended, but wouldn't actually mind such an innocent joke. She appreciates her angel's kindness, and their closeness leads to casual chat—about romance and movies. Things that go hand in hand... like here. Turns out the Colombian's first symptoms started with an adorable fairy.

<Are there more than one?

"Uh... I don't think so?" -she thinks- "I mean, I just wanted to confirm." -her brow twitches as she notices something- "Wait! Peter Pan was a book first. Maybe the book has its own version of Tinker Bell." -so if any exist- "but... Well, I haven't actually read it..." -can't confirm-

From Disney to DC, in this story built by her and Luz, Marie grows closer to Tinker Bell. But in her fantasy, her dream was always to be her Superman—at least once.

<What about Superman?

"A-ah- N-nothing, nothing! I-it's... It's silly, seriously!" -waves her little hands as if to dispel a thought bubble and end the curiosity-

<Pleeease~?

"Uh-"

Marie is caught off guard by the sudden wave of cuteness. Her lips snap shut, trapping the "but." Her hand acts too, moving to her forehead as she lets out a groan of resignation.

"Aysh..." -Marie drags her hand down her face, letting it slide across to show the weight she'll carry while confessing- "You really wanna know that?" -last attempt to stop, cheeks slightly flushed. Yes, yes she did- "oy.. I can't say no to you..." -her charms are too strong- "it's just that..." -looks away- "iwantedtobesuperman" -Huh? Said it all super fast and quietly- "q-que... quería ser Superman."

Again. Just as fast so the words blur together, but a bit louder—adding a bit of clarity. Still, left much to be desired as a confession.

"Aysh..." -drops her head, then lifts it again- "q-que when I arrived... I had this silly idea of... Uh... I-it was more fanciful, okay?" -disclaimer- "I imagined... Uh... Ending up here like in an isekai... Y-you know, like when you go to another world in an anime." -explanation for normies- "and... Well, in those shows, the protagonists kind of become strong and- and- with artifacts and stuff- s-so..." -Marie takes a breath, knowing what she'll say is dumb- "agh... I had this silly fantasy of being like Superman here, you know?" -says with a shrug- "I-I know!" -exclaims, raising her hands before you can speak- "i-it's dumb... It's just that... I dunno. I wanted to be strong, and- and central and... A kind hero... L-like Superman..." -says opening her palms and shaking them slightly, trying to explain- "now I know someone like Superman doesn't exist... But..." Sighs "I dunno... There's no but." -couldn't think of anything else to say- "go ahead and laugh now..." -they'll be a couple, but that's undeniably super childish-
Nostalgic photos, an old camera, these are the ingredients for a certain light that gives someone their name. But what kind of camera exactly?

<An authentic polaroid.

Cool! That's what Marie thinks, they ring a bell but she's not familiar with them.

<Actually I gave it to my boyfriend...

"Jaja well, that's better than it breaking, right?"

<Now that I think about it, mom never knew about their relationship. Knowing her, she'd never have approved...

"Oh..." -Marie falls silent, goes quiet- "So, do you think that...?" -she makes little hand gestures trying to suggest the obvious. About them two? About...- "Us...?"

Beyond how ugly the lack of approval from that side might've been, that camera light gave someone their name... Momo?

<Hey!

"Jajaja it's a joke..."

Marie can't help but laugh, her dumb joke worked. You could say this was her small revenge for the scare earlier.

<Rule number one of relationships, your girlfriend will always be the best and the prettiest.

The nerd smiles, her gaze softens, trying to look both approachable and genuine at the same time, because she's about to say something from the heart.

"Yeah you are... O-Okay...? That's what I think..."

She's genuine. Yes, she's failed before because of temptation, but... she's always held the first place in her heart. Even if she's rebellious.

Pfft... Yeah, right. Both find that label amusing.

"Jaja I know... she said it, okay?"

She washes her hands. But anyway, remained to be seen if something similar suited her better.

<This bitter one... But that doesn't suit you either, you're always so sweet.

"Ay you..." -puffs her cheek and pinches her fingers together, the free compliment felt nice-

<Desired daughter... Well, obviously your parents love you a lot.

"Guilty! je..." -maybe a little too much, they were overprotective-

<And this loved one.

Her hands join, the slight surprise on Marie's face doesn't last long before being replaced with joy. Her eyes move from their hands to the lips that will soon meet, and her happy smile shifts to match the sweet, closed-eye kiss that makes her heart skip a beat.

Mwa. Marie pulls away again, her other hand now also falls over the one Luz used to take hers, enveloping it in the midst of her renewed affection.

"I love you..."

She lets go, the kisses caress her heart and make words like that flow more easily.
When they pull apart, they go back to talking normally. They're girlfriends and they're friends; Marie makes a little joke and gets smacked, making her not only drop the grass but yank her arm back at full speed. Like a mole trying to escape the hammer and failing.

"Ow! I-IT WAS A JOKE!

She says after the shock, trying to clear up doubts about what she thought was obvious. Her other hand grabs her wrist—Luz was completely right, but she hadn't expected her to take it seriously. Marie shrinks in place.

"P-pardon..."

She apologizes anyway, and apparently that's enough for Luz to feel guilty, because out of pity she plants a sweet little kiss on her hand. A smile from the victim confirms everything's fine. It's a lovely first relationship, a dream for someone like Marie, who at home never had the chance to fall in love.

<Really?

"Well... Yeah..."

There's fabric to cut there. She wasn't entirely alone, but... those weren't really friends. But it didn't matter anymore—Luz pulls her closer, earning Marie's interested gaze now that she's properly embraced, ready to deliver a comment.

<Well, I think you're... sexy.

"¡!" —her mouth drops open in a sudden, very anime reaction worthy of early-day Marie— "S-sexy?!" —she can't believe it—

<And smart, sensitive, kind-hearted...

"U-uh—"

That's more normal, both in tone and in line with Luz's personality. But Marie is still recalibrating from the previous comment.

<Your classmates were wrong about you.(...)

"Uh..."

While pedaling in the air, she managed to understand... that Luz was right. Maybe having lots of friends is typical for those girls... But... They didn't have a magic sword. And of course... none of them had a girlfriend as awesome as hers.

"..." —Marie smiled at that thought—

Taking advantage of their closeness, she let her head rest on Luz for a little while. For as long as they stayed there watching the sky, feeling very comfortable beside her partner.

"You're right... It's cool."

...

Putting up a tent... I'd say it's not very hard, but probably Luz was doing all the complicated parts. Either way, it was a good activity to pass the time, earned her some curious facts about tents and all. Though it was kind of hard to pay attention when her mind, like her eyes, kept drifting to the curves of that sweet chocolate-colored skin Luz was showing off.

<Uh... Marie?

"¿...?"

Her eyes shot up quickly—she was still half somewhere else—but hearing her name was enough to bring her back. Luz points at herself; Marie blinks.

"Huh?"

Luz insists; Marie lets out a 'Huh?', then brings her hand to her mouth in confusion, then startles, now with an 'Ah!' of surprise, reacting quickly to wipe her wrist.

"A-ah! D-did it come out already?" —she smiles nervously—

(If you ignore it she won't ask if you ignore it she won't ask if you ignore it she won't ask)

She hopes she doesn't ask why she was zoning out

<So, why didn't you go to camp?
"Ah! That— well uh!" –She responds hastily, eager to shift to this topic and leave the other behind– "well, turns out I did a bit of research and ooh, summer camps are actually so boring. You just go and... uh..." –sighs– "okay, okay... I didn't want to spend a whole summer away from mom and dad..." –she says, shrugging as if that were completely expected of her– "I backed out a few days before I was supposed to go" –she plops down, sitting normally on the floor, hands touching the ground behind her back–

"It was kinda embarrassing... But my parents understood. I was just too... clingy with them." –No wonder she spent her first days here crying like a little kid–

Anyway, the topic shifts to Sezh. Marie performs a masterful dribble and leaves Anti behind, redirecting her attention to who truly deserves it now: the one who belongs to them. The one who's suffering. Long-haired Sezh.

<Jane's departure affected her... They were very close.

"Yeah..."

She understands perfectly. The situations both of them went through were different, but the outcome was the same: they lost someone they cared about. And that hurts.

<At first glance, it would've been impossible to break that friendship.

(Friendship... Am I the only one who shipped them?)

(Was there really nothing more between them?)

(From what I saw of the other Sezh, I feel like... maybe at least she...)

Wouldn't it make sense? Original Anti-Marie kept her love for Luz, albeit in a more perverted way. Not that Marie isn't perverted either but— you get it! It'd make sense that OG Seriozha felt that way too.

<Jane changed a lot...

The nerd's eyes reflect her concern. She can't say she hadn't noticed... With that whole squirrel incident and other things...

<Malicious.

"H-how so...?"

<I didn't want to say anything, but once I caught her sprinkling vinegar and salt on your bonsai...

Gasp "w-wait— the bonsai is yours." –She'd given it to her... Though well, that wasn't the point!–

<She swore it wouldn't happen again.

"Why..." –she murmured– "and who knows what else she might've done without getting caught, right...?"

Marie sighs... But again, that wasn't the point. She shakes her head and refocuses; they needed to figure out what to do about Sezh.

<We can talk to her when we get back. I just hope she doesn't take the intervention badly.

Marie nods.

"Yeah... We have to do it."

She's genuinely worried, agrees immediately. It's urgent. She doesn't know how to tell Luz this is actually a drug problem... or if she even should. Something tells her Sezh would get really angry if she found out about this.

But if it's necessary...

<let's decide what we're gonna eat... Do you like white or brown?

"W-wait?!"

We're talking about sugar, right?

<Chocolate.

"Oh—" –of course, duh–

Marie smiles.

"Brown... I like... the brown one..."

We're still talking about chocolate, right?
1/4 sorry kuek
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5666 es
6d5dcaeb9a35c96aa86e8e3fa456783afa26f372794646c04879a12f828db7d0.gif
1.58 MB 500×281
6cb1362ab3a3f43ce52ee33d87406baebb1b57b018dcef152805f7aae5afbd79.jpg
26 KB 720×398
0dda6de51b0eb660cc8c191245b6442c2713afb1e30cda266a6914035b6c326f.jpg
16 KB 532×469
spoiler
91 KB 675×555 spoiler
>>121315
I'm not sure if Marie heard about the conversation since she was sitting next to Luz up front. So if she didn't catch it... But I guess she did, right? Either way, I'll ask, and in the next post I'll have her react or not based on your answer. Partly I chose not to add it because this already got too long kek
>Marie
Anti or not, Excalibur existed. Marie wonders: What could the difference be? Was anti-Excalibur the same, except King Arthur was evil? Not that it really mattered much. The chatter was just to clear her mind amid the uncomfortable loneliness. More interesting was Antimoon—the nerd can't help but wonder what she was like. Apparently, she had some kind of relationship with Lunita.

From what little she can infer by reading between the lines, she wasn't the sweet Wiccan lover of white magic she already knows, but rather a user of the darkest, most blasphemous witchcraft from the vilest of books. Yet this doesn't make the Minnesotan doubt that she might have been one of the less bad ones. She doesn't have much proof beyond her demise, but that's how she feels.

<I thought I was a cursed sword... Me! Can you believe it?

Marie lets out a little laugh at how offended that sounds. She'd never heard her sound like that before.

"I confirm you're not... "

(At least I hope so.)

She thinks. Then remembers that, due to their small telepathic connection, the words in her mind wouldn't escape Lunita's sharp ears.

(I've been carrying you around for a while now... I-I guess you're not.)

<I-I can be kinda slow and watery, I know, but nothing worse than that.

"N-no, no... Don't say that. You're amazing just the way you are... Don't put yourself down, Lunita... Maybe she didn't even mean it that way." -how so? Marie shows a palm to explain- "Probably Moon was just trying to explain what they know about you using what she already knew. It's not the first time that's happened." -she explains- "On Earth we had a case... Sort of similar, about a certain tomb in a pyramid. If you don't know what that is... Uh... It's like a triangular building." -she says- "When they opened the tomb, people started dying... They said it was a curse..." -Marie wiggles her fingers wildly to illustrate what she'll say next- "But in the end it was just spores from a weird fungus." -she explains-

"What I'm trying to say is... uh... People might attribute things to curses when they don't have other explanations. And you do make people freeze up for a moment when they touch you."

Hopes that's enough to cheer her up.

"...although now that we're talking about it... I'm curious about Excalibur. Do you think she's also a spirit like you?"
They'd probably never know, but speculating about something less depressing wasn't a bad way to focus. And it bought time until she reunited with her partner to test the radio. From weird music to terrifying, passing through video game songs, and of course highlighting happysoft's masterpiece: a perfect, infinite 4-second loop you'll end up hearing even in your dreams. To some: garbage. To Marie? Irony-laced quality she thoroughly enjoys.

<Is that the correct translation?

"Jaja... No, no... I-it's a meme. But yeah, it kinda does sound like that, huh?"

They're so different in many ways. Something the redhead often finds herself pondering. Not that it's bad—makes their bond more special, living in the unreal, enjoying the unthinkable. Their moments together feel like near-miracles that fill her with happiness.

'Unreal', 'unthinkable', 'miraculous'—those words keep appearing in her thoughts. But here she was. Hand in hand, eye to eye, heart to heart. Still thinking, still knowing she doesn't deserve this. But when she's living her dream, she doesn't care.

They take the steps. Whisper their vows. Pour out their love. A divine hand writes the beautiful poem that is this moment, this chapter of their lives. It feels so good... So right... But it must end.

They part. Marie's hands almost refuse to let go, lingering close to her partner's body, barely resisting the urge to touch again—like trying to pull a small magnet away from metal.

Separated. She seems to resign herself... But watching her walk away makes her heart pound nervously against her chest, demanding what it's missing. A proper closure that's slipped through her fingers so many times before... that it no longer needs to happen again.

Running after her dream, she grabs what slips through her fingers over and over, sealing it with a huge kiss, amplified by the storm of emotions her first love stirs within. Love that makes her laugh and cry.

<Holy sky... The last thing I expected from this journey was to make you cry...

"Ja..." sniff

But it was okay. Because when she cried... She was there to wipe her tears.

"Sorry..." -she says, not resisting the handkerchief at all- "it's... it's not bad..." -she's not sad, just... burst! Too many feelings at once...-

<Let me think of something to fix this, hmm...

"N-no... It's not that-" -it's needed, but...-

<Hug?

"..."

Marie sobbed again. She looked moved for a moment before closing her eyes. Let out a single, soft laugh... And clung to Luz like those magnets she'd been trying so hard to keep apart today. Taking refuge in her small frame, where she'd let out a sigh...

"-"

"..."

She wanted to say more... But... No. Already... Already enough.

Or... No. Actually...

"This is good..."

...

Now in the agony of night, after an intense and beautiful day, Marie rested inside the tent. Sheltered from the night. From all harm. Content—she wouldn't have asked for more, though perhaps that was because she didn't know what else to want.
Like a curvilinear silhouette, Luz revealed herself before a drowsy Griffin, who through the haze in her eyes could barely recognize her. Like a blind woman, it was through touch that she was guided, waking from sleep only to be awakened in another way.

She felt, under the tips of her fingers, with perfect clarity, the texture of a small bump. The braille, slightly hardened beneath her touch, told her instincts to keep going. She traced her partner's modest breasts gently, feeling with desire that slow, irregular rhythm of her breathing.

The muffled moan seemed to infect her. Before she realized it, she was also breathing heavily, exchanging thick gasps of air mere centimeters from Luz's longing, desired lips. She swallowed hard—anticipation, the wait, filled her with desire, yet in that moment she was letting go. As part of a game, as if necessary, the union of waiting and desire felt... right. Marie lets herself be touched; her partner's hand explores her slender torso, leaving a tingling sensation that makes her tremble with every centimeter traversed as her clothes are peeled away.

Things feel more serious now. The hands she adores, once careful, now far bolder with permission granted between sighs. Marie stifles a gasp, softly biting her lower lip as those fingers grip her ass, shoving aside the second barrier of fabric with deliberate attention to the path taken, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They were half-naked.

Marie's lips trembled with a new kind of nervousness—this wasn't like the showers. But it didn't matter; it wasn't insecurity either. Those hands, with romantic attentiveness, made sure no part of her body felt neglected. She trembled—her chest responded with a drumbeat. She trembled—her upper thighs tingled. She trembled—her back skin turned to gooseflesh. She reacted to every tiny touch, surrendering herself, her name answered with a moan, followed by a chain of softer, quieter ones as sweet lips tasted her delicate, sensitive, pristine neck. She wanted to do more, but her arms seemed to weaken, like the rest of her body, yielding completely to the touch.

Finally it happens—face to face. Though the light was dim and her vision poor, squinting and straining her eyes, she found the desired expression and reciprocated. Lip to lip, moist, they cling and feel. At last, Marie touches, embracing chest to chest, sharing the warmth of her body—the warmth of a summer afternoon—while her curious, or perhaps eager, tongue desperately entwines with her partner's. She kisses with a passion she never thought she could feel; her lack of experience camouflaged, rendered invisible by caresses and moans, the only things breaking the kisses from time to time. Marie smiles, kisses again, now with the confidence of one who's learned, and with what seems like a hunger to kiss, makes it clear she won't stop until the need for air cuts everything short with a snap, followed by intense, breathless gasps as deep as the kiss itself.
Marie could be seen, half-visible, but she had no doubt that Luz was beautiful, that she wanted more. That summer afternoon warmth now adorned her body; the soft light, imitating moonlight, made them even more beautiful. Sweat droplets reflected the lunar glow like sequins of passion.

After exchanging glances that only deepened their desire, it was time to surrender completely to her—Marie was ready.

They positioned her; she helped, letting her hair down for greater comfort, and opened her legs. She lay back—Luz’s hand could feel the abundant dew of her private flower already soaking her upper thighs. Her body craved Luz madly. There was no delay, no room for disappointment. Her fingers skillfully rubbed unexplored terrain; her fruit of passion ignited, and though she bit her lips, she couldn’t always stay silent.

"Ah~ nf~"

She gasped and moaned; her body moved on its own, as if trying to escape, when in reality she never wanted it to stop. With her legs closed, she could stay like this for centuries—it was a sensation unlike anything she’d ever felt. She couldn’t stop panting; something seemed to grow inside her. Something big she couldn’t explain.

It grew, increasing the pace of her moans that now sounded urgent; her head felt like it would explode from the fever stoked by those electric fingers driving her insane, making her convulse.

"¡Ahhh-!"

She cried out at the peak of their shared passion. It was shocking—like a blow striking her entire torso, making her tense and drain at the same time. Her libido drenched Luz’s fingers, as well as her own groin.

An orgasm. The first one. Powerful, revitalizing, weakening, beautiful, terrifying. An oxymoron, but so... so good...

Everything in Marie loosened after that. Weakness hit her—her arms dropped, her head and legs too. She lay there, soaked, sweaty, feverish, feeling her legs so weak and tremulous...

"Ahh..."

Good heavens... She didn’t know if she’d touched heaven or hell in that moment. Her nose was bleeding. It probably wasn’t good, but right now she was elsewhere—her mind clouded, her gaze vacant. Luz had to step in to help her refocus.

<Marie...?

"¿...?"

She was left speechless until she heard her name. Her eyes finally seemed to focus, meeting Luz’s.

<Do you need to rest?

Marie let out a heavy sigh; her trembling hand rose and formed a thumbs-up.

But... she’d return to the fray. She had to return the sensation, at least...

2/4
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5667 es
24d2b7fffa06cf8a010e9be1eff18c576720caa786b80071eb2206c4dfbffc7f.jpg
642 KB 1186×1363
d5066786982f4ad7e0ae8cde6bcfeaa92e52d3086ba55afbd44c4d92fd5070ff.jpg
72 KB 500×500
8a8867e4935f10f43c4b0046c86e27a92dc9a9e9eea3c6302868d1bab91a7f5b.jpg
19 KB 572×376
0e356d7ff46f6c42f9d8d67a713d371251124ae26d052aee9cdebb894cd1bec5.gif
553 KB 266×200
>>121421
>Marie on Elm Street
<Griffin, get up!

"AH! OHHH!"

She nearly jumped from wherever she'd been resting. She smacked her head hard—exactly the kind of hit that makes you clutch your skull, sharp like brain freeze—and groaned in a raspy voice.

"Motherfucking fruit..."

Rubbing her nearly cracked skull, she suddenly opened her eyes wide—the sight deserved it. Startled, she ignored the pain and looked around in every direction, finding herself inside a vehicle, but not as a passenger—the usual—for once as a front seat copilot.

<Put your bony ass to work. I won't say it twice.

Huh?

"Y-yes, sir! I'm— I'm going!"

It made no sense. She didn't remember this. She didn't know where she was. But somehow her mental framework, her lack of past, adjusted itself so everything felt coherent despite a decade-long void. Marie hurried to the back seat, grabbing the only thing on top of her as if she already knew it was there: a camera. Sturdy, with solid weight, its design something the nerd inside her would call vintage, whether it actually was or not. For a second she wondered if Luz would like this camera, and though that was her first thought, there wasn't time to dwell on it. She had to move.

In a rush, she opened the door and stepped down, nearly face-planting like a bird pecking worms. "woh," she said, stumbling forward, almost falling. Her legs felt nothing like her own, her height definitely wasn't hers, yet she couldn't focus on that despite the dizzying confusion. As if she weren't fully present, Marie walked—her movements felt scattered, unaccustomed to her own body.

Moving like on a rail-guided experience, she reached a place. A house. Details didn't matter. Just an ordinary house, like hers or any other low-ranking cop's, average resources. But beyond appearances, there were sensations—something was wrong here. Whether an aura, a disturbance in the air, or whatever—it prickled at Marie's senses. Or more than that, she knew it, as if recognizing a place she'd never seen before, a deja vu comparing it to something else.

Oh, wait—appearances do add up. She saw things moving inside the house, shadows. She doubted it was just some guy playing hide-and-seek. It had already been said: back home, Marie feared looking out the window at night. Strange, but it unsettled her. As if she'd see something terrifying just because it was dark, when everything was calm. It worked the other way too—imagine stepping out to take the trash out, then turning to look back at your window. You still expect something, even if there's nothing there. It unnerved her. The worst part? This time, there was something—even if those shadows weren't it. It set her nerves on edge.

Marie entered. Greetings came naturally from others, and she returned them timidly. She had no choice. Along the way, she passed a mirror. She was familiar with this. The reflection...

No. Not a smiling child. It was like she'd touched fae lands—she felt unable to move further, frozen by the shock. It was an adult with a startled expression. Marie finally seemed to regain some control over herself. Her hand reached toward her face, and the mirror mimicked it perfectly.

"¿...?"

Was that her? She was—

<Griffin! What the hell are you waiting for? Christmas?

"Ah!"

She startled, snapping out of the trance. She'd been taking too long. That's what it was. "I-I'm going!" she shouted, and kept hurrying forward, nerves tightening her pace. Along the way, she coughed a little.

"Agh..."
The smell disgusts her, she doesn't know if it's new to this line of work, but she knows it disgusts her, that she'll probably never get used to it and that she should demand a mask or something if they wanted her to do something like this again. She tries to ignore the images, but she can't help but feel bad just by glancing at them, something terrible happened here. She knew it before, now the feeling is present in her mind with intensity.

She goes through the door and her stomach turns. Nausea, she has an almost uncontrollable urge to vomit, her throat hurts from being there. She covers her nose, but it's useless, the smell penetrates between her fingers like a drill, it's so nauseating that she'd rather be sniffing bleach. She wouldn't be surprised if this smell was burning her poor nose hairs like the most potent chemical. She has to lean on the doorframe, her lunch on the verge of the edge.

"Ugh... Oh dear..."

In fact, she was supposed to have a mask...

"B-but-but burp-" -she lets out a burp that's almost vomit-

<Take the required photos and leave. It's obvious what it is, we don't need recognition.

Well yes, she couldn't take it anymore. Better to finish this. She raises the camera, makes the effort. Just moving her finger and pressing the button takes a lot of strength, because she has to keep it steady and she'd rather have her hand in her mouth to cover the impending waterfall. Click, that was the easiest part.

"Ugh... Dear..."

She walks, carefully, with disgust, with nausea. This walk on the right side of the law must be more debilitating than the green mile for the inmate about to meet the electric chair. The camera feels like a dumbbell in the hands of someone with Parkinson's, up close it's worse, it's always worse. She holds her breath, it's the only way to have a steady hand right now, she accepts the risk of having to take a big gulp of air later. Hopefully, she'll be fast enough to take the photo and flee before needing to breathe.

Snap snap and snap. Yup this will go in my cringe collection seems like it will be enough, now she wants to flee... But she can't. She stays in place, contemplating the scene, taking more photos, gathering horrible data that fits the scene. How much longer until retirement...?

<Marieeeee... kill me you son of a bitch

"...?

A voice that chills the blood, that chills everything. That freezes her like in her first days in the backrooms when her only response to horror was total paralysis. She looks fear in the face, where nonsense greets her. The beast, the monster, the voice comes from the rotten being reclining, bathing in its disgusting grease. Marie was trembling, her whole being was trembling. The camera in her hands shook like Noba with his steering wheel before crashing.

<You always swore you'd have faith in me... How could you turn your back on me? Am I... not enough?

Her pupils contract seeing the worst. Was it talking to her? Was the Burster talking to her? This went beyond weird, what it was saying, the way it was saying it. Everything was masterfully crafted to make her shit herself... Which she doesn't, ok? But almost.

Her shoulder is grabbed and she's dragged away, Marie wants to jump from the horror, but she can't do anything else. Just look directly at perdition, the face of hell with comparable heat. A horrible monster that boils the scene and its actors without mercy. The pain is overwhelming, Marie's screams are heart-wrenching.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHH NIGGAAAAAAAAAAAA"

<I am God.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO THAT'S THE DEVIL MAN

And then she woke up shat and pissed

3/4 ok ok ok
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5668 es
4cc454765786c4670aaae170f85d07975d0222007199c1416b5e5c4c9dbf2a8e.gif
26 KB 500×284
6966bea56599fda0039635325fe059479073190518c43644536f88c12e9aa6af.jpg
47 KB 1024×575
7099c294179bc0452a12dc5bcdf90d5a8f6ba5f4dee107ffff6af33622204adf.jpg
26 KB 504×396
e598681f35561ec486f3d95452a35c43fc7dd49db7141fbfd961367ff516e141.jpg
123 KB 936×1008
Marie
"¡!"

Her eyes snap open, releasing a burst of held-in breath. Her chest heaves rapidly, matching her racing heart. She woke up flooded with adrenaline—normal. She died in her dreams again; her expression betrays it. Half-paralyzed, the shock won’t fade...

Buenos días, dormilona.

Until she hears that. Her pupils dart to the corners of her eyes... where she finds Luz. Marie closes her eyes and lets out a sigh—clearly, it was all just a dream. Still, seeing her brings relief. Partly because she can now confirm Luz is still Luz, still a little girl with her partner.

Or... not? Is she a woman now?

That’s not the point...

After the relieved sigh, she opens her eyes again, puts on her glasses, and returns that adorable gaze with a smile of her own. The images of horror and revulsion are replaced by far more pleasant ones—scenes that made her tremble. It was a night that left its mark. She can still feel the ghost of her touch all over, felt in a way no one else has ever made her feel. Beautiful caresses no one else would ever give her.

"Buenos días..." —she replies—

She wouldn’t mind a little more, actually, but the thought makes her blush. She tries to push those thoughts aside. New experiences are tempting, but... well, she doesn’t know, she just thinks maybe she shouldn’t take advantage of that. Last night was special.

Te noté inquieta mientras dormías... ¿Pesadillas? Seguro fue el chocolate.

"Puf..."

She lets her head drop, her gaze lifting to the ceiling—of the tent, of course. How much weight that topic brought back.

"Sí..."

(Again...)

She doesn’t want to worry Luz, but she can’t just blame it all on chocolate. She’s had countless nightmares... ever since the boat. Hence the dark circles—something new that Marie hates. Stupid dark circles. They look good in anime; in real life... they look awful on her!

"Just a nightmare..."

It was a bit worrying to have one after such a damn beautiful day. She wouldn’t have expected it... but well... it’s over now.

"..."

Marie looks at Luz. She wants to leave the fear behind, hopes it’s just that... another nightmare. She’ll pay it some attention later. For now, she wants a good start to the day. She leans toward her partner and gives her a quick peck.

"Mwa."

She pulls back, then worries.

(...ay- wait, was that a good idea? Morning breath and all that... Damn. Uhh)

"Ahem." —she tries to ignore it— "¿Qué hay para desayunar... amor?" —her voice trembles, then she giggles— "oh god, I still need to get used to saying that..."

The new day begins. Bathing is outdoors. I don’t know what this implies, but probably she’s bathing naked in the rain or something like that, which feels a bit awkward for the young girl.

"Ah, god..." —she says, glancing around— "I feel so exposed... I know there’s no one around but... it’s kind of weird..." —...—

Now wearing glasses, she can’t help but see Luz’s figure with new eyes—her previous desire now unmistakably clear. She looks away slightly, feeling that staring like this might not be entirely... appropriate.

A brush, a floss, a scrub behind the ears, and back into her clothes. They sit down for a moment inside the house—suggested by Marie—and eat a little. Energy bars, pure power. All they need now is Gatorade. Marie takes the chance to play some music from her phone—because she’s a zoomer who can’t eat without extra stimulation.
"You know, Luz... you being bilingual is awesome. I was diligent, but I never picked up the Spanish we learned in school... and I never bothered learning another language." -she comments- "well, Japanese, but... I didn't learn anything haha" -she laughs, the one who speaks only one language is American. That's what Doctor Polo says-

"But... wanna hear a fun fact? Actually... there is one Spanish word I know by heart..." -she takes out her phone- "and it's..."

https://youtu.be/Z4oTvuow9cc?si=_8iIEdAV9xhebq0P
A sweet guitar, a piano, a smile.

"Cheeky teetha~" -she tries to pronounce it, then laughs again- "mom really loved this band... she'd ask me to download their songs and play them over Bluetooth, she didn't understand it at all." -she explains, laughing again, nostalgia in her voice- "she'd sing this song at the top of her lungs... I'm sure she was terrible at it... But... it didn't matter haha... Sometimes dad would join in. And me... Even... Je... I'm sure at least I sing it badly..." -laughs once more-

"Agh... I miss them." -she says, shaking her head with a resigned smile- "I don't even know what it's about, you know?" -she says, shrugging- "I never looked up the lyrics or anything. I just... I just liked singing it with them..."

She looks down... shakes her head and forms a smile. Then lifts her gaze again, cheerful. Not the time to be sad...

"...are we still on for singing together?"

They chat a bit between bites. Gotta enjoy it.

"And then he goes: I'm goooood! And I'm like NOOO THAT'S THE DEVIL BRUH"

She stands up, waving her arms in the air. Then sits back down.

"...I think I'll start praying again, Luz..." -she says, frowning, trying to look both annoyed and with that thousand-yard stare-

She checks her energy bar. Almost done with the second one.

"It's tasty, what's in it?"

Later, they're ready to leave. They exit the house, renewed, closer than ever. They face the vast meadows, Marie looks at her partner, looks at her hand reaching for hers. She smiles, interlocks her fingers with hers, and they start walking... stopping shortly after at the first of many dunes.

"Luz..."

She says, looking at her. Lets go of her hand for a moment, wraps her arms around Luz from behind, and extends her arm with the phone already in selfie mode.

"A photo... for the memory."

She says, activating that mode to take several photos in a row, like that time at the festival.

In the first, Marie makes a 'v' for victory with her fingers, smiling at the camera.

In the second, Marie is seen looking at Luz.

The third, slightly blurry, shows Marie leaning her head toward Luz.

In the fourth photo, she's kissing her partner's lips...

That's enough. Marie shows the photos to Luz, the little house in the background where they strengthened their bond to the maximum level. Marie turns around, takes one last real-life glance at the house, at that special place. The place only they know. Lets the breeze blow gently across her face, today... it feels wonderful.

She turns back to Luz. Puts the phone away and takes her hand again... now for real.

"Let's go."

It was a beautiful experience.

But... it was time to begin this ending.

4/4 damn, I'm tired.

>>5664
That's how I feel. It's way too soon... kek
Cat/Ashley Scapolite-78c6ac No.5669 es
177513e2f021a3c0066a288dd574122ae4f6cba8ae3e65299f9a3ceaf508c602.jpg
403 KB 1220×1208
2ad419f27f791f6dde2997d7fb9459689c97e440bd9a2c9b579a9a4f2a53a24f.jpg
27 KB 350×350
bf557062961d7593113d41749f12f1e74680f02799a4b973ed99b2973a4e2627.jpg
333 KB 1220×1205
>Ashley
A simple question made her frown slightly.

<Why...? Do you want to share me with others?

It came out of nowhere and should've meant little, yet somehow managed to pierce the neutrality she usually maintains. That blank expression now showed something... annoyance.

"No."

She replies. After that monosyllable, her face relaxes again. Hilda doesn't seem to understand yet... others don't matter to her the way she does. It's not that she hates them, not even Marie, whom she does resent a little for abandoning them. It's just that her connection with anyone else is weak.

This was to be expected—growing up avoiding people wouldn't raise the most sociable child. Though things have changed, Catherine isn't as standoffish as she was on day one. Now she sleeps in a bed and showers with running water. Rocks have been replaced by couches, and she no longer needs to hide her footsteps. She can still help with chores, and she can still walk through nature. The new comfort, combined with the ever-present familiarity, allowed her to adapt.

It's a good place, and that's why Catherine isn't completely closed off to meeting other kids. Ironically, it hasn't happened. Others don't approach her, and she hasn't approached them either. Hilda, the cherry on top of the sweet little cake, takes up most of her time. One could say they're inseparable. Catherine owes her a lot, and she loves her. Her touch, her words, her time—those are what she gives to show affection... and in return, she receives the same, Hilda's way.

"You are with me as you are with me, and I am with you as I am with you."

It's obvious, yet also unique. Catherine thinks so. Her dad is with her as he is with her, and she is with him only as she is with him. Catherine doesn't hug the librarian, and the librarian doesn't teach her how to apply bandages. People relate differently. For Ashley, it's the easiest thing in the world to be kind to Eladia, and for Eladia, it's easy to be kind to Ashley. Again: this is special. Unique. Something tells her she wants it to stay this way. She doesn't mind being selfish. She knows she is, just like she knows she won that snowman competition.

"It's true."

Winning a snowman competition doesn't matter when it comes to survival. It's not in the book.

(But we still won.)

Without further ado, girls arrive, girls gather, and one collapses. This comes from nowhere and ends in nothing. They part ways, with the unanimous consensus that it was weird. But the albino's priority isn't to judge—it's to attend to the blue-haired girl and her tummy. Nausea, she assumes, and suggests medicine.

<Nah, my body's fine. It must be something else, but what...?

"...Sure?"—just to be sure—

Hilda looks down at her feet, mirrored by the other girl. The footwear shows no abnormalities, so she raises her gaze once more, catching a glimpse of anger. Catherine tilts her head, curious and slightly concerned despite her expression not showing it.
As their eyes meet, she straightens her head and opens up. To her, she's an open book—only she knows who she really is, only she knows her name; there's no reason to hide anymore. Not even the fact that she used to think she was bad.

<Hey!

"Ow..."

She rubs her shoulder. It didn't actually hurt.

"It didn't hurt." -Hilda's smile reflects onto her. She just wanted to see her reaction- "It's true." -but she circles back- "That's why I hit you, remember?" -ahh... nostalgic. That day they spent fighting the whole time-

Anyway, Ashley has been domesticated. She has a vague idea of what that means, but when you're missing half the picture, you explain things however you can. She should rethink it, but at least Hilda seems happy—there's a sparkle in her eyes, they clasp hands, and the girl jumps. Ashley doesn't know how to respond to this tender gesture, but she smiles.

<You're like Doggo!

Until she says that. The girl looks confused, unable to stop staring at the one she's being compared to. He's currently making quite an undignified sight—Catherine would never bite herself there. She knows he can't reach; he could just scratch with his fingers if needed.

(Though he doesn't have hands.)

Still, she feels that even if he did, Doggo would still try to use his little teeth.

(I'd rather be a cat...)

(If I were a cat, I could run and jump better than anyone...)

(Catto...)

She was about to explain that to Hilda, but seeing her so happy stops her short.

<And I'm like the leader! Everything fits, see?

"!!"

She stifles a gasp of surprise. She's grabbed and lifted up—she kicks her legs slightly and returns the hug, wrapping her arms around Hilda's neck and pressing her little chest against her to eliminate any chance of falling. Then she's set down; Catherine takes two unsteady steps, struggling to balance. This coat is uncomfortable... Well, she manages to steady herself.

(Phew)

Avoided a totally certain fall.

"Yeah... I get the comparison." -she makes claw motions with her fingers- "But I'm more like a cat." -she kneads the air-

Still, this might give Ashley an idea. Something to think about later, since for now, setting that aside, she needs to find out what Hilda herself thinks of her.

<I don't know... Maybe?

"Maybe?" -she asks, dissatisfied with the lukewarm response- "Yes or no?"

<I'm like a hedgehog, spiky... Some pokes are accidental, others on purpose.

"Ahm..." -she has notes on this, but holds them back when Hilda starts getting frustrated- "...?" -now she's paying attention-

<Darn it! After everything that's happened these past days, I thought I'd improved.
<But that shove from earlier reminded me I haven't. Luz came back from the dead! That was... How do church people say it?

"...Miraculous...?" -she guesses. It was total madness. Catherine still doesn't get it-

<Exactly! And even with that, I came and attacked her. All because of that nasty feeling in my chest.

Hilda chews on her clothes. Catherine feels uneasy about all this... So she moves closer, places her hand on the girl's chin to make her stop, and rubs her head against hers like a kitten asking for pets, trying to make it just as soothing.
"You're gonna hurt your teeth," she says. "We have to take care of these."

She stays in that position, waiting for the caresses. It didn't matter whether they came or not—she'd go on speaking anyway.

"Hedgehogs don't prick, Hilda... Those are porcupines. Hedgehogs have spines, they're a bit stiff, but they don't hurt..."

She's never had contact with hedgehogs. She's going by what her dad told her and what she's read.

"To me, you're like a hedgehog. I thought you were gonna hurt me..." —like a porcupine— "...but you didn't..." —they became best friends— "hedgehogs do weird things too..." —like pushing for no reason, she means. But maybe an example is needed. Catherine smiles— "They bathe in their own slobber, just like you." —she puts her little finger on the slimy stain—

...

She's already proven she can move around undetected in this little house. It'd take someone with perception as sharp as Joe's to notice her or so I assume, given that it was implied when he left, she could escape MEG without being seen keksito and she proves it again by arriving unseen exactly where she needs to be. Now she's wandering around, singing like a bird. A secret call that only someone who knows can answer. That other thrush, one of ule who sings without a squeaker—Ashley would recognize it anywhere.

Following the sound without stopping her whistling, so they always know where the other is, she finds a wall...

"¿?"

She looks up. When your goal is on the other side, walls get torn down, circled around, or climbed. Today, Catherine sees the last option as the easiest. She grabs onto the pile of objects and climbs to the top with her usual ease. Up high now, at a strategic vantage point, she shades her eyes with her hands and spots Hilda. Catherine stops whistling, smiles, and responds to the movements by waving her arms.

"Hilda!"

She greets her with excitement in her voice. She hurries to climb recklessly, eager to reach the end. She doesn't think about the best footholds, only about going up. Plink, goes a piano.

"..." —she looks down—

Plinkplink plinkplink plink plink~ mamaaa just killed a man

Curious, she taps a few keys with her little foot, then abruptly looks away and continues her ascent with a jump that nearly becomes a fall. Her hands grab onto a shield, which shifts slightly. The cat gets scared, searches with her feet for support to prepare a leap—but a friendly hand grabs her little arm and yanks her from danger.

"Fiu..."

She puts her hand on her little chest, relieved. That tired her out a bit—why? Maybe from carrying the extra weight of all the coats, maybe from rushing so much. Didn't matter. The important thing is they're together again. She sighs and locks eyes with her friend.

"Thanks... I almost fell..."

They don't waste time once reunited. They start touching each other's skin, and again the girl gives in to the touch. With her eyes closed, her head leans into the hand petting her, craving more contact. The touch behind her ear makes her wiggle her butt in delight. She's deliberately imitating animal behavior.
<You're very good, Cat.

The hand tries to leave, but Ashley stops it. Her fingers rest on Hilda's hand and bring it to her cheek for another second, as much as she can say.

"Being good to you is the easiest thing in the world for me..." -as opposed to being good to anyone else. She's improved her attitude, but still considers herself prickly... Though maybe she's not so much anymore-

Her little fingers move down, like a self-caress, to Hilda's little hand before separating from it and finally opening her eyes. They can continue. The albino shakes her head at Hilda's question.

"No. Nobody." -she's sure of it-

<Good... What we're going to do will be special, I don't want to involve those gossips. But first things first, let's go.

She nods her head.

"Okay."

Catherine follows her. At first, she's not surprised by the idea. A few moments later, she realizes she doesn't know what they're going to do, and curiosity sets in.

"Where are we going?"

Maybe she wouldn't know until they reached the place. Which would be... well, not much different from the rest of this attic. Among the mountains of objects, it wouldn't stand out if it weren't pointed out: a washing machine.

"A washing machine?" -she recognizes this from dry cleaners-

But not just any washing machine.

"Isn't it just any washing machine?" kek

<It took me quite a while to find it, but I think if we set the button to enlarge instead of shrink, your book will be more or less a decent size again.

"My book?" -she pulls her dictionary from her pocket, it's still an embarrassment. In its current state, she'd call it a keychain- "You mean my dictionary?" -yes- "How would it be more or less?" -she wants to be sure-

<Things that go in and out of the washing machine always come out a bit weird. Look at Billy.

"Billy?" -And who the hell is that?-

<Haven't you noticed that he speaks and doesn't speak at the same time?

"Ah." -that was Billy- "yes..."

<It was a little joke, okay?

Catherine said nothing about it, as if Hilda expected her to be judged for it. Anyway, it was a valid question.

"A joke?"

And then she asks, was putting someone in the washing machine the joke?

<Nobody thought Dark would turn it on. She really took everything veeery seriously.

At least she didn't.

"Hm... So if we put the dictionary in, it'll look like it can be read but won't be readable?"

The question makes some sense, but according to Hilda, it doesn't. Things weren't that simple. On the contrary, they were complex for cases like Billy's and super easy to understand for things like a little book. Catherine looks at it, thinks about it... It's not that she distrusts... On the contrary, she just wonders: Do I really need to return it to normal?

...it didn't matter. She shrugs. Hilda went to the trouble of finding this for her, it wouldn't cost her anything to be grateful and accept the gesture. Besides, she could learn new words she didn't know yet. The first thing she'd look up would be 'libido'.

"Okay."

She takes a few steps forward and throws
Cat/Ashley Scapolite-78c6ac No.5670 es
6db0451854ae7e782d3d4c1cf155b0599abc3ba2093f9a5f9052f7b9d0547532.jpg
365 KB 1220×1188
d23a615b7bb9c4e111742bf017cf820720413894aaf54692d1ab85f3e3939d34.jpg
301 KB 1220×1199
>>5669
"Okay."

Takes a few steps forward and tosses the dictionary inside.

"Done."
1/2 so much for that. Stupid fake character limit

>>121767
>Ashley
They traverse the anomalous space. It's so packed with objects it raises some questions: What if someone just takes something that doesn't belong to them? And, of course: How are there so many things here?

The reason is they're not the only ones using this place to store stuff. Catherine lets out a 'hm'.

"Would that be a problem?"

She supposes they might run into someone if others had access here. Then she realizes something.

"...no, I don't think so."

If she detects anyone, she'll evade them with skill. Catherine was born for this!—or well, trained for it. And obviously, some lunatic poking around, testing entrances to see where they lead, shouldn't be much of a concern either, especially since at least theirs had a lock.

...though maybe Charmy should reinforce that last one.

<We arrived.

"Hm?"

They stop short at a vast meadow... of pillows? Ashley stares, wide-mouthed, surprised. The unnatural landscape deserved a question... but she doesn't get to ask it before receiving a shove.

"Ah!"

She yelps, followed by an 'ay', an 'oy', and an 'uy' as she bounces repeatedly until doesn't clip and ends up in th3 sh4dy gr3y. Fin. finally landing sprawled in the valley.

"Ahh..." —she sighs, that was kinda fun—

She turns her gaze to the side, searching for her companion, spotting a blur of blue plummeting rapidly straight toward her. Catherine's eyes widen and she tenses up just before impact.

"Osh..." —not a big deal for her, but still a rough bump—

Hilda felt it a bit more. Crashing onto Cat's bony frame must've hurt. Once the brief shock of the collision passes, she looks up.

"You okay?"

Hilda turns, hugs her. With Hilda resting on her arm, Catherine takes the chance to do the same, ending up face to face. Hugging each other, though Catherine a bit more so. Hilda has the advantage in this hugging showdown by one leg.

They lock eyes. For a second, Catherine doesn't show any expression—neither does Hilda. Then, suddenly, Hilda bursts into laughter. Ashley smiles and softly snorts through her nose, soon laughing along. It was contagious.

"You pushed me." —she reminds her—
<Do you like it?

"Yeah... It was fun."

She replies. Hilda takes the chance to nestle into Catherine's soft neck, who welcomes her there affectionately. Her hands move to her friend's head, gently stroking as Hilda inhales. The soap—always used generously—gives off a pleasant fragrance, but her natural scent sneaks through beneath the perfume, subtle as she is... Her skin smells like the forest after rain, like citrus tree leaves drenched in dew, bark, and even a faint trace of sweet honey. It sounds almost magical. Catherine was mysterious in many ways... but mysteries didn't matter. What mattered was that this was how she was, that Hilda liked it, and that this strange, hidden scent—only noticeable when one pressed their nose directly against her skin—was just for her...

It should be noted that the gesture makes her tremble slightly. She's getting used to physical contact, but it feels different—having a nose against her neck isn't the same as a hand's heel against her cheek.

"...you're tickling me..."

That's the closest comparison she can make. It's a strange, faint tickling sensation.

<I did all of this myself.

"All of this...?" -she asks, her eyes darting around- "It's a lot." -she's surprised-

<When I want to be alone, I usually come here to play.

"I get it." -she replies- "I had a treehouse too... to be alone as well."

<One day we could even move here, far away from all those nerds... I don't know, it's just an idea.

"If that's what you want." -she doesn't think too hard about it, this time agreeing more easily- "I'll go with you."

It's not a bad idea. If she were to leave, no matter where, she'd rather follow her than stay in that house.

"Or we could build a treehouse..." -she suggests, that's fun too- "...or we could have a house here... and another in a tree..." -that way everyone's happy-

<It's embarrassing.

"Why?" -she doesn't understand, it's just pillows-

<such a soft little spot, coming from such a tough girl...

"..." -she falls silent for a second- "What about it?"

She's too literal to grasp the connection between these two ideas—at least in this case. Why would being tough prevent someone from having a soft place? Even the mighty bear seeks out something soft to rest on.

...wait, she's falling asleep.
"Hilda..."

She stops stroking her hair, stirs slightly, waits for the other to look over in surprise at the sudden movement, then pinches the girl's cheek.

"...What are we going to do?"

<Ah, right.

"..." —she gently squeezes the cheeks before pulling away— "you really are soft."

She moves back. Sits up. Catherine takes a second to do the same. She had been comfortable too... Maybe they could’ve taken a nap first. Doesn’t matter now.

"..."

They look at each other. Catherine blinks a few times. The silence and uncertainty feel a bit strange. Saying she’s afraid of Hilda would be wrong. Sure, Hilda’s strong and all that, but so was her dad, and he looked scary at first glance too. Bigfoot as well—yes, Catherine knows Bigfoot. Not the real one, just some crazy man she knows who’s more beast than human. She’s used to spending time with threatening people. You could argue she hasn’t known Hilda as long, but not only does she owe her life, she also loves her deeply in a way she doesn’t love anyone else.

Still, once again, this feels strange somehow. She’s being stared at, and she stares back just as intently. Hilda isn’t usually “like this”—emotionless calm suits Catherine herself more. The opposite would be more like Hilda: straightforward, obvious with her emotions. Not being able to read her intentions is unusual. Unusual feels a bit weird.

But there’s another factor...

<Close your eyes, Ashley.

"..."

She trusts. 'Ok,' she answers, and obeys. Just in case, this time her lips pucker slightly, waiting for a kiss that never comes. She’s being guided now—it seems she won’t get the kiss she’s been waiting for today.

"…?"

She’s a bit stiff at first; Hilda feels some resistance. But soon, after a sigh and the tiniest nod of her head, she lets herself be led... ending up lying face down. Strange... but acceptable. Still, even with her eyes closed, she can’t help but seem puzzled when she feels that weight on top of her. She knows it’s Hilda... But why? Was this the “special” thing? Her long hair is moved aside again, exposing her neck skin, and then her entire shoulder as the one riding her decides to reveal more.

(What is she doing...?)
From fangs to molars. Her flesh is marked by Hilda's teeth without any possible resistance. Catherine's eyes widen along with her mouth, which tries to stifle a scream to hide the pain as she's been taught.

"Khhhhh—"

But it overpowers her, a pained hiss like a suffering cat whining as she kicks and punches the pillow beneath her hand. She won't let it go, she wants it, but the pain... she doesn't like it AT ALL. She writhes and kicks wildly with her newfound strength, perhaps making worse the wound the bite was going to leave. Trying to escape at all costs.

to do what comes next, otherwise let Cat suffer and that's it

Managing to pull away, she rolls and sits up, clutching the wound with her hand while scrambling backward to create distance. She stares at Hilda with pain on her face, a pain not from the wound, but from... betrayal.

"You bit me..." —the ultimate betrayal in Cat's eyes—

She says. Hurt, alert, now looking at Hilda as someone who could harm her. Had she been stupid? She let her guard down, oh yes she did. She gave her full trust, let her touch her skin, smell her scent. She entrusted her name and her life. She couldn't understand why this had just happened to her. Didn't want to believe she meant to hurt her. Why? Why?

...she stopped scrambling backward. She curled up, no longer alert, but...

"Why...?"

...with a sad, heartbroken expression.
2/2
I understand if the Marie part gets too long, feel free to skip it and reply to this first if it's more comfortable
I've been thinking about something you said about scenes we might still want to do. I suppose Catherine talking to Charmy is one, even if there's no news about whatever happened to her. I have a small scene in mind, something Cat would want to talk about
Implying this doesn't kill the Hildatherine kek
Anyway I feel like that was bound to happen eventually anyway
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5671 es
4c67a26bb4690dec9f956eef2b4783684948b3704f0b6500a52ed43f0d605d36.webp
7 KB 480×270
7d62be0e4909e57b7a3ce5e604e6e40b6040e97c91ac4f5238398d8274a3a701.jpg
192 KB 805×1200
db01393a13ef02bc99ad9c1474bf561349014d35f636e59fb7acdea8af80cea2.jpg
8 KB 275×183
6cccff8cc3e7e10be0814470e5fd3a3325560c8a79cf07bc67dfc78dcc2b3af0.png
170 KB 445×342
ab48fdb5139e33e4211b18f77e455530002103a40946b3adb4ef5b3442bb0914.jpg
14 KB 608×342
>>120734
<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 9, hour 3)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 0/50
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 11x2
-Agility: 10x2 - 10 Group supply bags
-Endurance: 11x2 + 15 Modified Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 2/4
Thalasin (29/30)
Brayan
Skills:
Werewolf (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.
-Effects
Insomnia (111/1964)

Level 10
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D6aj6AoiLbcYou took a moment to check the supply bag assigned to you. The inside is lined with insulating aluminum to protect the contents from the cold. There are canned goods (pork, lard, and beans), almond water bottles, rolls of bandages, military rations, moth jelly sheets, and also some thick iron thermoses that—upon opening one—release a trail of steam fogging up your hazmat visor. It contains a red, light, odorless substance. One of the expedition members warned you this is liquid pain, used by pouring it over yourself when the weather turns unbearable.

The same guy who showed you the family photo ventured into the depths of the church. You called out, but silence was the only reply, aside from some bird caws you think you imagined. You decided not to take the risk and ran off, fleeing to rejoin the group. When you reach the last expedition member in the march, everyone turns around at a loud cracking sound from the rear. The silhouette of the church collapses, burying all its secrets beneath it.

Hilda reports she’s found the entrance to the next level and orders everyone to hurry.

...

Slabs of living rock embrace the thick stone bridge, flanking it on either side with abyss and darkness, from where running water can be heard... Some comment it's flowing almond water heading toward level 7, others say it's a river of liquid pain and that level 7 froze over long ago.
your

stomach

aches

from

forcing

yourself

through

narrow

cracks,

and

your

knees

crack

under

the

weight,

but

at

least

you're

as

intact

as

swiss

cheese.

you

sit

around

the

campfire

and

stretch

your

hands

toward

the

flame,

even

underground

you

need

to

keep

the

cold

at

bay.

at

least

you

don't

have

to

deal

with

wind.

some

of

the

expedition

members

help

set

up

tents

while

others

bring

out

portable

stoves

for

cooking.

hilda

divides

the

watch

shifts

into

three,

using

a

timer

to

track

the

hours.

knowing

you

can't

sleep,

she

offers

you

the

role

of

permanent

guard

volunteer.

hilda:

i

found

this

in

the

trash.

might

help

you

not

get

bored.

-game

boy

function:

entertainment.

description:

old

piece

of

electronic

gear.

comes

with

a

tetris

cartridge

and

one

for

pokemon

blue.

eight

hours

later,

a

scream

wakes

the

expedition

and

snaps

you

out

of

your

pokemon

trance.

hilda

rushes

out

of

her

tent

and

hurries

to

the

edge

of

the

bridge,

where

the

scream

faded.

soon

they

learn

from

a

witness

that

one

of

the

men,

drowsy,

stepped

out

to

pee,

took

a

bad

step,

and

fell

into

the

void.

no

time

for

grieving.

hilda

orders

the

camp

packed

up.

you

swallow

a

pill

and

get

ready

to

move

on.

...

the

stone

gives

way

to

a

tangle

of

interwoven

planks.

you

realize

you're

on

another

level,

but

you

no

longer

feel

the

subtle

chill

that

used

to

accompany

entering

a

new

labyrinth—

it

doesn't

feel

like

exploring

a

living

body

that

breathes

and

reacts

anymore.

with

picks

and

axes,

men

and

women

hack

their

way

through

frozen

wood.

the

floor

creaks

with

every

step.

many

suspect

your

weight

could

be

a

problem

and

keep

their

distance.

ahead,

the

woman

wielding

the

axe

screams

and

falls

on

her

ass.

from

a

turned-on

tv

on

the

ground,

tuned

to

static,

emerges

an

albino

lizard

the

size

of

a

muscular

man,

which

hooks

the

woman's

chest

with

its

tongue

and

threatens

to

swallow

her

in

one

bite.

hilda

jumps

over

everyone

and

slashes

downward,

cutting

the

tongue.

lines

of

black

blood

stain

the

floor.

the

creature

lets

out

a

horrible

screech

and

retreats

beyond

the

screen.

the

poor

victim

looks

at

hilda

and

thanks

her,

but

the

leader

doesn't

lower

her

double-edged

sword.

looking

around

the

new

attic

area

they've

reached—more

open—you

understand

why.

televisions,

stacked

and

hanging

from

chains,

turn

on

by

themselves.

shadows

stir

beyond

the

static.

1/3
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5672 es
047259c47538b00d9b68f716721d8e8355ca1290c5b8f36e8c211b090145d3c8.jpg
113 KB 800×533
3ef577ead26784bd9b650ed122a5eb83df5b7d36ef9f7f58a7ab53cddd97e55a.jpg
4 KB 152×331
>>5671
<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, hour 7)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 0/50
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 11x2
-Agility: 10x2 - 10 Group supply bag
-Endurance: 11x2 + 15 Modified Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 2/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Brayan
Skills:
Lycanthrope (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.
-Effects
Insomnia (111/1964)

Level 21
Black blood drips from Hilda's sword. She sits down on a boulder half-buried in the regolith, and with long, deliberate strokes of a handkerchief, she cleans the blade. Around her, the expedition members barely catch their breath and recover their strength after the last battle, cold sweat still soaking them from the fright. There had been too many entities; they were forced to flee, and three of them were dragged away by the channel-feeders, leaving only 10 from the original group (not counting Hilda or you).

The leader decides they need rest, and under the sight of planet Earth, they set up camp. They take their time because more than one gets lost, mesmerized by staring at the blue globe, the old home world. Who could blame them? It's the closest they've been to home. The only one who remains distant, as if that old world meant nothing, is Hilda.

Around the fire, nostalgic stories are shared—about girlfriends, boyfriends, family, problems, countless complaints now remembered with longing, and even a few tears.

Maybe if we write a message in the dust, NASA will show up to rescue us.

One man says it with a wavering voice—it's supposed to be a joke, but his voice betrays him with the stammer of hope. A woman drinking a beer replies without looking at him, expressionless:

Don't say stupid things. It's just an illusion.

It looked painfully real. That was the worst part.
The journey through Level 21 surpassed any time estimate. Days kept piling up, supplies dwindled, and it wasn't a place where you could find food by scavenging or hunting. The freezing blizzards wore down morale. It didn't help that the surrounding landscape was an endless stretch of dusty plots and dark craters, and that in the sky hovered the physical embodiment of everyone's longing. Frost from the wind clung to coats, adding weight, tearing at the seams. Several eyed your hazmat suit with envy, since it seemed to keep you nice and warm... when in truth, it reeked badly inside. You hadn't had a chance to bathe or take it off. Maybe you dreaded seeing yourself in a mirror and discovering you'd become even more deformed.

Hilda: Avoid at all costs letting it enter any orifice. It's 100% pure liquid pain—lethal if applied carelessly.

The guide showed you how to use the red substance, soaking and carefully rubbing it onto the skin. But one man, desperate to feel his nose again—already blackened by frost necrosis—miscalculated, and the pain liquid got into his eyes. You noticed because he collapsed to the ground screaming, his face starting to bleed and swell. Hilda walked over to him, stood and observed with a furrowed brow for a while. The suffering man reached out a trembling hand toward her, and without uttering a word, the leader split his skull open with a sword strike to the forehead.

It sounded like a melon or a juicy coconut cracking. Everyone's breath caught, and silence took over.

The sacrifice, though necessary given the man had no future, dealt a blow to the group's morale. Questions and doubts about Hilda arose—whether she even knew the way out. She replied that she did, but what she sought was a shortcut to a specific level. This clarification didn't sit well with some, who would've been satisfied with any exit leading to a more habitable level than the moon. That's why one morning you woke up to news of a mutiny by five people...

The demands were clear: half the supplies and a promise of no future punishment for this act.

2/2
Marisa Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5673 es
>>121845
>I found this lever, does it work for you?

"It works more than just my arms."

He stands tall directing the robots in the area to secure the stronghold, convinced he's doing a good job.

>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zb38Kp9QlOM

"Bipbupbop for you too, friend."

>He says we could activate the neuro-toxin bombs to protect ourselves from the invaders.

"I think I have neurons that could be poisoned by that, I don't know if the ice zombies have them." He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose as irritated, trying to continue with the act of disappointed construction boss with his workers "It's because I'm easy to kill that it's so hard to protect me, nobody said it would be an easy job."

After finishing the trench, he hugs the robot he can talk to again to stay warm until Alondra returns.

"It already sounds like my neighborhood." Only more screams are needed to accompany the lead to feel completely at home "I hope that wasn't the giant robot self-destructing. If Alondra went riding that thing, she has to come back surely."

>Open up, it's the law! Any act of resistance will be considered treason and answered with severity!

"The only law I know is Laguerta's! Who are you? They told me not to open to (Unknowns)."

That being people who can talk is a better sign than a bunch of growls and scratches, although the tone they use isn't the friendliest in the world. While he tries the diplomatic exit, Flametower suggests the literal exit through the back opening that he himself opens.

>I detect several life signals... Possibly armed and hostile. I'll gain some time for you to get as far away as you can.

"Hmmm..." He thinks so hard it shows on his face, then goes to the small exit and breaks another board to make it a larger and more noticeable exit "I think I'll stay. Without offense, but the last time you confused a crow with an atomic bomb, and the last time I left someone behind it didn't go very well. I didn't die, but neither did I get a prize for my bravery."

He climbs up one of the shop windows to be both out of sight of the people entering and of their bullets, and at a more appropriate height to give someone a direct hit on the back of the head without standing on tiptoe.

>He says you can use it as a means of transportation to get wherever you need to. According to my calculations, escaping is the correct decision, level 10 is no longer a safe place for you.

"No place in the Backrooms is SAFE safe. Safe I'll be worse alone than here with you, but if I'm wrong, then what, we'll have to protect each other. Just don't blow yourself up near me, okay?"

He wants to think that in these times of difficulties, all people are on the side of other people instead of the zombies, but if for some reason a bunch of opportunistic mercenaries took advantage of the situation to take over a town on the brink of freezing death... well, that's just bad luck.

He'll wait a bit to see their intentions, wait for one or two to notice the big back exit and maybe chase after him thinking he escaped through there like a scared little girl, and if it becomes obvious they aren't the rescue team and his salvation, it'll be time to see how little a metal bar and a jihadist robot can do against an armed army.
Rolero Bicolor Ammolite-6513ec No.5674 es
aa78d617962992f117406f7447dde863ae940f612af0398076b68f93b3e1206f.webp
10 KB 512×288
109bad25094f2549562f9adcbb4d2ec8ed4fd8b1dcfd3806542bacd5e7f1d6cf.webp
45 KB 1272×929
711b003dd9654235eae536d916ffe2e77a4dbc67a75e66dd1b664f7262030f53.webp
11 KB 338×450
bdcc052dfe04cc1c0295f24470b8157bc03e0bf0e63ad86bbeb453c752dd609f.webp
55 KB 1080×1583
>>5672
<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, hour 8)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 0/50
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 19/20
-Strength: 11x2
-Agility: 10x2 - 10 Group supply bags
-Endurance: 11x2 + 15 Modified Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 2/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Brayan
Skills:
Lupine (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.
-Effects
Insomnia (111/1964)

Level 21
Hilda: Those star symbols at the entrance... Yes, this is the place.

You follow the remaining group members to the mouth of the cave, though your eyes keep drifting toward the blue-haired woman and the bloodstained sword she wields. You still can't quite believe what you witnessed—how the leader moved like a blurred streak among the mutineers, how you heard the wind being sliced, then saw scarlet chunks falling and staining the lunar ground. Only one managed to react in time, firing his shotgun, hitting empty space to his right, and a second later having the blade emerge from his chest. You remember the man’s eyes dropping to the steel, staring at it with his mouth agape, as if unable to comprehend what had happened to him.

There were no more complaints. In fact, among your companions there was a general impression that Hilda had done the right thing, and that on a mission so vital to the shelter's future, punishing betrayal was necessary.

Footsteps echo through the dark, cold cave. Hilda warns you that you'll meet entities further ahead, but not to worry.

Hilda: I got on well with them a couple years back when I saved them from a Watcher. They're telepaths, meaning they communicate through the mind, so... no weird thoughts.

Beyond the flashlight's beam, there's a pale glow and an opening. You arrive at a wide chamber illuminated by a floating fireball positioned exactly at the center, hovering above a grooved platform. But the most striking thing isn't that—it's the giant cyclopean starfish slowly moving about on two legs, scattered across the room. Hilda goes first, her stride confident; she even sheathes her sword. The star people turn toward her, facing her with their large eyes. You all stay behind, tense and expectant, unsure what kind of entities these are. A drop of sweat runs down the forehead of the expedition member to your left, and you notice he's gripping a submachine gun, ready.
The leader and the starpeople remain silent, standing just steps apart, communicating through an invisible and inaudible line. Hilda nods, glances over her shoulder, and signals for you to follow. The expeditionaries approach carefully, while the starpeople return to their erratic wandering, ignoring them.

Hilda: Unlike us, they don't want to escape.

Hilda comments, stretching her hands toward the miniature sun, warming herself.

Hilda: They came here to take refuge after some motherfuckers destroyed their world. Now they don't know how to leave... and they don't care. The plan, as far as I know, is to wait until the sons of bitches who fucked them over go extinct. A shitty plan, but I'm not a mindstar, so... what do I know?

But the starpeople aren't what Hilda wants to see—what she's after lies at the back of the cave, beyond another narrow tunnel. Ashen eyes, nails and chains restricting its movement, the frost-skinned beholder floats, emitting a blue glow, a thick cloak covering part of its head. It's the watcher Hilda helped the Starpeople defeat.

Hilda: Our shortcut.

To where?

Hilda: To the Ministry.

She says, then takes off her backpack and pulls out an object. At first you think it's an ugly, wrinkled latex mask with horns, but on closer inspection, the texture seems too natural... because it is.

Hilda holds the flayed skin in both hands and puts it on, completely covering her head. She looks at you. One of your companions steps back, trembling—he recognizes the skin as one of the worm's heralds.

Hilda: Santa Claus took someone very precious from me... In return, I took his head. Fair price, right?

She throws her head back and lets out a loud "Ja!" that echoes through the entire cave.

3/3
Murcielago y Otaku Stibnite-2f1790 No.5675 es
8c41afc3c027281faa57fd69297825e5887fc0385e18b6d207070402d4d9bfa7.png
76 KB 250×188
12a00806dfdfad5ac171fda8b27fe937bb0ccedc5c22563446ffe076d4d51ed7.jpg
139 KB 720×1024
>>121974
>Donny

Total panic, confusion, he was falling without any real direction into the void, without a course or meaning, without time, without company, was this going to be his end, falling through eternity until he went mad?, how long had he been falling, how long had he been screaming?, things like that stopped being worth asking a long time ago. But it didn't end here, something saves him from that predicament.

"AHHHHHHHHHhhhh...aaaa...¿ah?, ¿eh?" It took him a moment to realize his new surroundings, not so strobe-like and confusing, he put his hand to his throat, it hurt from the screams.

He stood up, looking around and firmly gripping his bat, he couldn't trust himself. The first thing he sees is his reflection in a black mirror, but upon closer inspection he realizes it's a kind of monolith, like in 2001: A Space Odyssey.

>Is it not wonderful?

"¡AH!" No matter how soft it sounded, the voice startled him and made him step back three steps while urgently shaking his weapon, he was still very alert "¿Quien..." He looks at the carrier of that voice, above the monolith was a woman of great stature, dirty with blood and with an aura of great power around her, with one of those compasses that explorers used.

Donny watches her silently, and lets her continue, while in the background the interstellar spectacle unfolds, a marvel that possibly could only be seen once in a lifetime, but now Donny was short on words for this given his situation, first because the strange woman knew his name, this made him furrow his brow and grip his bat tighter.

Although his feelings of self-defense quickly fade when this woman reveals herself to be Irene...an Irene of many.

"Irene..." He could ask a million things, where were they, what to do now, he still had a lot of emotions and things to say jumping from one side to the other in his head after what had happened, those infernal three days since he left the Draga, but that which his sister said only left him with a doubt.

He walks until he is close to him, and lifts his gaze to speak, something that in the past, he would have asked by looking down or while sitting on the couch at home "It sounds like a lot of things happened, but, are you okay?"

>...

>Irene

"Ok ok, no reason to fight" He raises his hands as if to say 'calm down old man'

...

His anger had a clear focus after what happened with the run-over and leaving Marco behind "Stupid face you're going to have if you keep acting like this" He snaps at Leon

But the albino doesn't help, Irene frowns "A 'thank you' isn't too much"

The scene transpires, and the final one stays to rest, Irene keeps looking at him for the rest of the journey. Birda gets off to go get Marco, Irene could protest as much as she wanted, but if she wanted to get off, she couldn't force her to go back, she sighs with sadness watching her figure fade into the white mantle of the blizzard.

"So much effort to save one and in the end losing two...I hope it's not so hard to find you, mom" She looks again at the Albino "Hey, did you say you were looking for someone, didn't you? Maybe I can help you with that"

She shows him the eye of Argos "It's an artifact, with it you can see whoever you want, wherever you want, it doesn't matter if they're in the storage room or outside of it...with a limit of three times a day" But before he tries anything, she takes it away "Butttt~ first, a 'thank you' and introduce yourself, that's my quota, by the way, do you know a way to find the old man who lives on level 12, don't you?" Maybe she asked too much, but if for the last question he already showed himself very annoyed, it's fine to give Argos to the albino "Just...think of who you want to see, and it will show you where they are, it's not very helpful just knowing they're somewhere x, but at least you'll know how they are before continuing"

>...
>>122008
>That Marie
AHHH MY PENEEEEkek
Palacios Marialite-0fee3c No.5676 es
69ea249b43341b3c4d5f451e43334471227a1d56775f69022bd1b20dd1b4da08.png
547 KB 1366×768
ddb095c92c5545296a9dfa2241a832e9be5a81bb7d8fd09b7d95b7670013e23a.png
348 KB 1366×768
>>5671

He was already getting hungry from all the good shit around, so much that since he arrived here he looked like he'd been on a hunger strike from how little he'd been eating. He wished he could just go on a proper binge, but probably better not.

"FIUUU! Move your ass, I'm out!"

He stashes everything, follows the path, and soon bumps into a church. Waits less than twenty seconds for the dude who went in, then lets out a whistle before bolting off. Doesn't even bother looking back until he reaches the others, just in time to hear everything go straight to hell.

"One's still stuck in there."

He turns toward the collapsed church, points, and looks at the group. Playing dumb and completely detached, he doesn't say more than necessary. He was at the back, saw someone go in, that's it—nothing else. If asked, he knows nothing beyond that. Not that shrugging off blame mattered much, seeing how the others just kept doing their thing shortly after.

"I don't get along with technology... These little screens especially, something tells me they don't bring nothing good around here."

He steps back a bit as soon as he sees the game. Feels uneasy even touching it, and only does so to avoid drawing attention—then quickly tosses it aside a moment later. After a couple hours of guard duty, boredom hits hard, and he ends up picking up the console again. Back in the day, he'd only ever had those typical bootleg ones that repeated the same game a thousand times.

This one doesn't seem much more original, judging by what's on it. The game glitches constantly, dialogue often corrupts and becomes unreadable, but even so, he manages to play. Occasionally, strange whispers come from nowhere. He figures it's just the cave he's in and doesn't think much of it. Later, though, the game starts showing areas and objects he doesn't recall ever seeing or hearing about. In Silver City, he finds a strange onyx statue said to be a sanctuary, though he can't interact with it at all. It's only in Rock Tunnel that he decides to turn the game off after an NPC says the exact same thing. He shoves the console deep into his backpack and tries to forget about it, though every now and then he feels something on his shoulder.

"Motherf—!"

He nearly shits himself upon hearing the scream—between that Pokémon and this, he almost gets a heart attack. Nobody felt like sticking around after another person died, so without complaint, he grabs his stuff and bails too. The sensation of something on his shoulder vanishes as they change levels; instead, now he has to deal with the dizziness from crossing over wooden planks that could collapse any second. No need for the others to keep their distance—he's already moving at a painfully slow pace, terrified of falling.

>>5672
"Can't you see, that's exactly what I'm saying. Next screen I see, I smash it!"

The TVs amplify his paranoia; he has to hold back the urge to kick them all to pieces as they pass by. That was the case until he realized there isn't a single screen in this entire place he can trust. He joins the others fighting off the creatures jumping on them, though more than the creatures, he's primarily aiming at the TVs. The radio is now the only thing he can tolerate from here on out—because after this, he might even start agreeing with Josue Yrion that Nintendos and stuff like that are evil.

"Let him do his thing, we're not losing anything anyway."

He mutters it without much enthusiasm, lying flat on his back beside the group. After all that running, he's got little desire to interact, and he wasn't exactly the most social person during this whole trip to begin with. Nobody's been in that mood, really—nobody even knows each other's names except Hilda's. Aside from occasional comments about letting everyone do whatever they want as long as there's no trouble, he's barely spoken at all.

"Hey man, what the fuck kind of plan is that? We're in the middle of nowhere—do you really think you'll accomplish much just by hoarding more food? Do you even know what the hell you're gonna do after that?"

The mutiny threat catches him as off guard as everyone else. But in his case, it wasn't the mutiny itself that surprised him—it was how stupid the plan was. He tells the guy who organized it straight to his face, no filter. That said, he says it all from behind Hilda. He's not about to stand in the middle of crossfire or risk getting punched in the face, so knowing she's more than capable of restoring order, he stays perfectly still, waiting for her to do exactly that.

>>5674

"Get down and sit, if something happens you won't need to move anyway."

He was right—Hilda restored order, though not in the way he expected. He's caught off guard by the fact she ended up killing the idiots who rebelled, but he doesn't comment on it. He'd already seen before the journey began that people around here are too damn stubborn to change their minds, so it's faster and easier to get rid of them right away instead of dealing with their bullshit all day. Knowing that, he doesn't worry about the aliens either—and he tells that straight to the guy who's about to start shooting at them. With Hilda standing right in front, they can afford to relax for a while.

"They're gonna have to find another place if snow starts sticking here too."

He doesn't know what they're running from, doesn't know what they live on, and doesn't know what they're doing—but he agrees with Hilda that their plan is shit. If they needed help to defeat the corpse now lying in front of him, then he's not gonna fare well at all against one of those supposed guys who control the weather.

"And wearing it like that is supposed to be for what?"
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5677 es
f088a33a429187636c97660e80d1f1acec7a3d3c5f23f4eb63ddce776d691888.png
206 KB 993×251
8f9c1e29159c365c1ef2f4cb046ac379d68fbb94627bd454252b9ec4f39e6a46.jpg
57 KB 1280×720
9100875f0a690b1abc14cfde0d00a40416ea59246b791591930501deceecf327.jpg
41 KB 768×432
bb7434a2a33ac3a27ab9797ef1d16dc5b3268161a20655ca19e259081ec074a7.webp
214 KB 900×1200
>>120893
<Maverick Spark (Day 60, hour 15)
HP: 120/130
Energy: 88/90
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 18/20
-Strength: 14
-Agility: 14
-Stamina: 11
-Luck: 2
Inventory:
-Pockets 0/4
Skills:
-Sixth Sense (Passive): Alerts you to nearby danger and grants a +25 Agility bonus during your first reaction.

Level 11
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QD6D5kFJrLYCereza: A level can cry... And die... And destroy a person. Better not fuck with them.

You close your eyes and try to remember. You recall how Rosynini saved you from Tiff; everything else is dead time—spirals of dreams, prophecies—until your current rebirth. God and Argos appear in the distance between buildings and falling snow. Argos's hundred eyes see you, but your father's gaze remains lost in the sky. They are the final defense of level 11, standing between you and the ice. You summarize all the information received and wait for Cereza to confirm. She nods.

Cereza: It's a long trek to the outskirts. I've been walking my whole life, I'll be fine.

With that last comment, she waits expectantly, as if waiting for you to validate whether you feel ready for a marathon. But you know weakness won't spare you from hardship—it's time to move forward. On a wooden bench in the theater's foyer sits a traveler's backpack, filled with supplies. Lifting it places a considerable weight on your shoulders and back.

-Traveler's Backpack 15/15
4 bottles of almond water
3 cans of tuna
2 packs of sliced bread
2 bags of raw meat strips
1 flashlight
1 portable stove
1 gas cylinder (for the stove)
1 jar of moth jelly

Sergeant appears wearing a coat pulled up to his nose, bringing you a gift: more weight. The tool is thick and lethal, pulling your hands downward. With one hand on his prominent belly, Sergeant lets out his thunderous laugh.

Sergeant: I call it the Motorized Maulsaw! Cute, huh?

-Motorized Maulsaw
Function: +20 damage, -10 agility (Load: 10)
Description: A bastard child of a maul and a circular saw. Can consume battery to perform a second strike with doubled damage buff.

Sergeant grabs his beret and squeezes it in his massive hands. He looks satisfied, yet conflicted.

Sergeant: I promised myself I'd never build anything new again. But what the hell? With the world the way it is now, one more gadget won't make things worse... Just make sure you deal plenty of damage to whatever you fight on your journey.

Your sister hugs herself and wrinkles her small nose, turning her face away.

Cereza: ...There was a 74% chance you'd change your mind and come with us.

Sergeant: Someone's gotta stay and help your old man, sweetheart. Even if he doesn't ask, or even if he knows there's not much I can do compared to them. At the end of the day, God's as human as I am... Or as you are.
He puts on his beret. You say goodbye, he shakes your hand and suddenly pulls you into a crushing bear hug that cracks your spine (-5 HP). You walk away with Cherry. The sky remains overcast, buildings blocking any view of the giant eye or God. The sergeant yells at you from a distance.

Sergeant: If it's a boy, teach him to be a man! If it's a girl, show her suitors who the real man is!

You glance back, confused. Cherry sighs and shakes her head.

Cherry: Don't listen to him. It was just a stupid prediction I made... I talked too much.

Your sister leads the way, cutting through probabilities (invisible to you), always choosing the least dangerous path. A harder task than it seemed, with chaos as the rule—predictions shifting by the minute, and more than once she made you turn back. Slowly but surely, you drifted further from the level's center.

Cherry: I wonder where the facelings went. Not even Francine knows, and she knows their secret shortcuts.

The streetlights flicker—already faulty for a while—but this time, after one final flash brighter than the rest, they don't come back on, drowning the streets in gloom. Snowflakes still stand out as if possessing an ominous glow. Cherry pulls out her flashlight and you do the same. You resume walking.

Cherry: I think this is the first time we've spent this much time together. It's kind of sad, but I get it... Even I sometimes don't want to be around myself, that's why I used the milk to escape. It took me somewhere... I don't know if it was better, but everything was so sweetened that it lost meaning, and when nothing matters, nothing hurts.

She gives you a long look from under her messy bangs.

Cherry: There was a 59% chance you'd end up hating me. With odds like that, who'd take the risk...? At least I don't depend on the cow anymore. I'm... I'm better, I guess.

A white carpet of flowers surprises you at the next avenue. Petals and a strong perfume lifted by the cold breeze. The sense of anomaly the chrysanthemums exude feels different from the level or the city itself.

Cherry: The probabilities say it's dangerous, but I also feel something calling for help, like we should keep going...

You take the risk, and 100 meters ahead find a meat mace with a spike dragging itself through the flowers. Dried blood stains its mouth, and strips of blue cloth dangle from its jaws, while its many eyes ooze a clear, salty fluid. Cherry and you hide in the corner of a shop, watching the creature snarl and whimper in the dark.

Cherry: An albino insanity, first time I've seen one. What do we do...? If it notices us, it'll attack. I'm 100% certain.

She looks at you, waiting for you to pull the right answer out of a hat. After all, you're her older brother.
Rolero Bicolor Ammolite-6513ec No.5678 es
a3dfbce85b98c732ff0fa21f82d89e88cfdf81bd88f257625863ae818ec68600.jpg
113 KB 828×1397
e30d3ce8c938e7fbd26842967b0a2f63a1d6be33a1dac361e1e42edd76f5c47f.png
13 KB 892×506
4bf2aa0ed59b1ee8e2ef1ce90f0c10d5634d38ed550714a27d6cc1edcf558571.png
170 KB 747×450
>>120894
<Aurora (Day 18. Time 5)
HP: 120/120
Energy: 70/70
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
- Strength: 2 + 10 Miko Kankaku
- Agility: 6 + 10 Miko Kankaku
- Resistance: 2 + 10 Miko Kankaku
- Luck: 4 + 2 Reserve Experience Points
Inventory:
-Pockets 1/4
Scarf
-Techniques:
Free Chest Jutsu: Avoids bodily contamination from the air. To maintain it requires a certain level of concentration, therefore it cannot be used at the same time as other techniques.

Level 16
You run until you stop feeling the soles of your feet. It's not because you got tired or because a lot of time passed, you just started to float. You kept moving with your hands extended in front, almost without seeing, moving as far away as possible from Dark Mahou and that sinful grip that stained your most intimate place. Can you ever get married now that you're a stained flower? You didn't notice when the trees became scarce and the stage changed, until you planted your feet in the air to stop and avoid hitting a wall of bricks.

The world is colored by an opaque and sepia pencil that clashes with your pale skin and clothes. A very long street, signs in an unfamiliar language, cars from a different era, dark windows and a light drizzle of milk. You walked through the mysterious neighborhood until the next corner, where your gaze caught a hooded figure looking over their shoulder to avoid being spied on (Mission failed), while placing a bundle under the lintel of a church-shaped building. The unknown person grabs the door knocker, rings it, and with haste runs away, stopping for a few seconds in a blind spot to make sure the bundle was received. From your position you see as the door opens, an older woman appears, looks around, then down and is surprised, leans down to grab the bundle, and carries it between her arms before going back inside.

???: What are you looking at?

The voice behind you startles you. You turn your head, reuniting with a girl with brown braids. Now instead of a dog, she rides a bicycle, and with an umbrella she protects herself from the milk drops.

Momo: Did you also come following the balloon?

Her eyes slightly open.

Momo: Wait... I know you. You're that girl from the other day... You're still alive.

Her gaze lowers to the sidewalk where your feet should be placed.

Momo: And now you fly. Cool.

Her eyes close almost completely as her threshold of surprise stabilizes. Momo says something very intelligent: Since both are girls in an unknown place, they should walk together for a while at least. It is thus how the young woman and you continue forward through the level, which according to Momo continues being the 16, only that sometimes the forest changes for... Reasons. The conversations started by you, because Momo seemed very satisfied with the silence unless it was indispensable to open the mouth, like for example when a white and bulbous mass, bigger than a blue whale, appeared for several seconds among the clouds. Momo points at the sky with a finger.

Momo: It's the god of the balloons.

Seriously?

Momo: No... I made it up. But it would be nice if it were, right? A god could grant me a wish, or something like that.

As fast as it came, the giant whale went away. Momo clarifies that it's getting late and that you should already go home.
Rando caminos de nuevo Goshenite-d79de4 No.5679 es
4ed3c5a32a6a66cd9d8ec9b7b3bf90ff7768560768f24eb86120f71fba108208.jpg
929 KB 3356×2800
>>5661
Hey, OP... Three questions... Can I come back? I'll see the ending even if it's the last thing I do... And if it's comfy and everyone's together, even better :^)

Second, what was the last turn I had to respond to?

And third, can you list the characters from the commemorative Pic of the thread...? The one where they're all together, their anime origins, not who they are in-character kuek
Rolero Cassiterite-1d6c86 No.5680 es
87c181666594ca031e2a4957442ab7d2fd552e278cb50db7555cc7712cbbde53.webp
33 KB 640×360
302f90fe8da7335a57b4719fb624638ece9af07e6afd3f99ada08680124612d0.webp
126 KB 827×992
8a1ea73232d92073c6ccf4c33621d82a422a1e307afac22a1b5a6c4a8542b922.jpg
297 KB 1080×1350
>>5669
>>5670
<Catherine Hills (Day 17. Hour 14)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 65/70
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 19/20
- Strength: 5
- Agility: 12
- Endurance: 4
- Luck: 3 + 0 Hilda's Necklace
Inventory:
- Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by CH. Pickles.
Liminal Dictionary
Pencil
Notebook

Level 10
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K3dcTJElTKcShe was your strongest connection in those worlds that seem to float free from reality's shackles. You loved her deeply, cherished her company, were her cat, and as proof she stroked your hair when frustrated, and in response you felt her relax.

You helped her, and she helped you. Thanks to her finding the angular washing machine, you could read your dictionary without a magnifying glass. It brought new pages and new concepts; you learned that Dorcelessness is a very rare psychic disorder, and that level 256 is a huge lie. It says so right there, ¡FRAUD! in letters so overflowing with ink there's no room for details. But that didn't matter—only one thing interested you...

f. Psychol. Sexual desire, considered by some authors as an impulse and root of the most varied manifestations of psychic activity.
Syn.: lust, lewdness, lasciviousness, concupiscence, desire, appetite, libido.

You got answers from the dictionary. From Hilda too, though it wasn't really her strong suit.

Hilda: They have a sort of... Uuuhhh... Code of honor, that goes way, way back.

She scratches an ear.

Hilda: That's also why there are so many things—lots of the owners are genuine old farts. The leader's parents used it too.

And speaking of old folks, you ended up running into one. Couldn't help it! The seemingly normal wardrobe opened by itself, revealing the obese man. Whole pigs, red and steaming, hang from iron hooks on the greasy wooden beams, along with dried fish and rows of sausages. By reflex you step back, positioning yourself behind Hilda—the stranger's bulk is even larger than Joe's or Commissioner Laguerta's.

Hilda: Hey, Duke.

She raises and lowers her chin in greeting. The man, fingers blackened from diabetes, smiles.

The Duke: Sir Hilda, what a pleasant coincidence... I need to move fast (the irony). Is Charmy available?

Hilda explains the leader is busy with adult matters in town.

The Duke: Oh dear, oh dear, on a romantic outing with Sir Joe?

Hilda: Bleh! No. Romance is for fools.

Sticks out her tongue, says it while holding your little hand (the irony).

Hilda: It's about the mayor's office and I think the weather.

The Duke: How delightful to know they're finally taking action about this bone-chilling cold.
The cold hasn't been that bad so far, but maybe that man is just very sensitive.

The Duke: How's the Sword of the Sun treating you? No incidents?

The braggart shrugs and says indifferently that everything's going as usual, and she usually gets mineral oil to sharpen it. The Duke keeps his subtle smile, then notices you.

The Duke: A friend?

Hilda: It's A-... Catherine. Not just a friend, my best friend!

She adds, puffing out her chest as if that were something to be proud of.

The Duke: Sir Hilda and Lady Catherine... Both names rhyme like a pleasant sonata. Why not get one of my fine goods to celebrate your precious friendship?

The blue-skinned girl checks her pockets.

Hilda: I only have these baby teeth.

The Duke: Ooh, yours?

Hilda: Someone's.

She shrugs again. The Duke accepts the teeth, assuring they're useful for attracting all kinds of fairies, and adds that in fact, there's one following you. You look back and spot, concealed among several marble statues, a creature whose body is made of countless teeth.

The Duke: It's a tooth fairy. Not the kind of fairy I'd want. Grab this soda can and bathe your calcios in sugar and sweetener to scare it off.

-PUNCH
Function: Quenches thirst. Restores 2 energy points (10/10)
Description: A drink to recharge your batteries. A sugar rush, an energy punch straight to your mouth.

Hilda opens the can with her thumbnail, tilts it up, cheeks puffing full. She swallows, looks at you, and hands you the drink—the very antithesis of natural. Maybe it's not to your taste, but you need to drink it to repel the entity.

Hilda: Hey! We should write that down in the book, it's useful.

With the fairy gone, it's time to buy something. You get distracted browsing the inventory, reaching your fingers toward a small vial containing a colorless liquid, but the Duke warns you it's rattlesnake venom. Hilda's hand touches your shoulder to get your attention, then brings something close to your hair... Maybe a hairpin?

The Duke: A gray shadow flower, excellent choice. It's said to represent trauma, lost innocence.

You look at yourself in a stack of mirrors. It's like having an ice cube on your head—the strange flower absorbs light and trembles without moving. Your eyes hurt just looking at it, but when you focus on yourself, you see... Adorable, like a child in a portrait. Hilda peers over your shoulder and smiles.

Hilda: I don't know... It kind of distracts from what's important. You're prettier than that flower, no doubt.

She nods as she says it.

How could you know that the face you adore hides...

Betrayal?

1/2
Rolero Cassiterite-1d6c86 No.5681 es
3239891ef0e55ab3a8ce365a6ac1e170b3ac5033b3523db541bf3cf02d51699a.gif
1.47 MB 512×341
>>5680
Change the format of the flower image. Let's see if it uploads now.

>>5679
Black, I think it's better to leave it as is. If you had died twice, or even three times... But I think we're already on the fourth or fifth and it's annoying to keep sending turns just for them not to be answered.

Anyway, the turn I sent you is in the previous thread. If you're really interested, you can look it up and respond (Although I don't promise I'll answer it). Or else, it can wait until it reaches the epilogues and then I'll send something to close the story of your monkeys. If you don't have the body for the role, I recommend you choose that option.
Rangato Goshenite-d79de4 No.5682 es
>>5681
I'm being sincere, it's me who gets the most annoyed lolmorising so much, because I feel like I'm disappointing a rolafriend... but it's matters of force majeure, so I have to deal with it.

One last time, I'll look for and respond to the turn, and if I lolmorise again, then I'll no longer bother you...

>aldo

You didn't answer the other thing, can you tell me the PJ of the roleplay? I need them as a reference, I think you already know what I'm involved in lately, right? Ah... Do you want to see a personal scene in that format?

>aldo 2

How are you? I lolmorised over everything for more than a month... Has something happened? You seem... Odd...
Rolero Cassiterite-1d6c86 No.5683 es
0528b16cf3b70be807328d11b7a1b766bbce4934fcaee8d5d7599f367a6a329a.jpg
181 KB 850×1200
>>5680
>>5669
>>5670
<Catherine Hills (Day 17. Time 14)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 65/70
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 19/20
- Strength: 5
- Agility: 12
- Resistance: 4
- Luck: 3 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
- Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by CH. Pickles.
Liminal Dictionary
Pencil
Notebook

Level 10
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MCHTw1h2kBAThe plans to build a house were ruined the moment you felt the pain, the same peculiar heat that had invaded you by her closeness, vanished. You stepped back, still clutching the painful and hot wound...

She smiles at you as if what she just did wasn't a vile act. You can almost glimpse her two faces, one friendly, and the other blurry where a gray entity with sharp teeth is just the one that attacked you.

Hilda: You're the first official member of my group! Welcome!

Hilda's smile diminishes at the same time she notices your fear, you stop seeing the other being, but your caution remains high. Hilda crawls up to you. You try to back away, but you only sink deeper into the pillow walls. She extends a hand to your shoulder.

Hilda: Let me see.

You ask, but you don't want to.

Hilda: If it doesn't heal properly it will be bad. Ashley, v-vamos...

The last syllables dry her voice. Her hand contracts in an evident nervousness, until it becomes a fist that plants between the pillow cushions on the floor. She lowers her head.

Hilda: Did I hurt you? I had to do it. Only when the marks go deep do they last, I know that.

She speaks quickly, with very wide eyes due to her growing urgency. But seeing how you shy away leads her to understand that, what she did, broke their relationship in an apparently irreparable way. You again see the monster when Hilda frowns and raises her voice.

Hilda: It's just a bite, Ashley. They have hit me, cut me, even broken my bones and I'm still whole. Why are you acting like this over a bite from nothing?!

Slap.

It wasn't you. It was her. And not on you... She slapped her own palm with such force and speed that it reddened her mouth. You never saw her afraid, but now she looked terrified.

Hilda: Y-Yo...

Her voice gets stuck. Tears are fixed in her, not daring to fall. She speaks, but her gaze seems lost in an event from long ago, before you fell into the liminal space.

Hilda: Dark was right... I'm not fit for this. My place is outside, in the labyrinths.

After her darkened profile seems you disappear for her, but the light returns to her eyes and, loaded with pain, she looks at you.

Hilda: Sorry, Cat...

She didn't dare use your name.

Hilda: I thought it would be nice, that it would become a kind of tradition, like with Doggo... But instead you got hurt when you least expected it. And if you continue with me it will happen again... You judged me wrong, if I'm bad, I'm terrible, I'm like the monsters.

In the end Hilda is indeed a porcupine. A tear touches the corner of her trembling smile. She rubs her face with one arm and extends the other upwards. She sniffs.

Hilda: I-wish you could have tamed me too sniff.

The edge of the sun scratches the distance and hits her hand. Hilda turns her back to you. The strong feeling of a farewell weighs on your heart, the same one you opened and thus got hurt, and hurt another too.

2/2
Cat/Ashley Scapolite-78c6ac No.5684 es
90819d37595ca8ed5256b61e55e2b1f31883372e0fd4167b969e5ab264f69e19.jpg
15 KB 299×668
9b07d7c620c0dd223f064a0a3bbce27b9dfb550aa2c59fda0373ceab0b57cd0a.png
1.18 MB 1220×1264
>>5680
>Ashley
It couldn't be that bad, she thought. And it wasn't—well, not at first. But then it was. Pages piled up, at least a dozen new ones, and while new information was welcome, the anomalous nature of these new pages meant they didn't always say much... and worse: they made navigating through them a pain.

It's been said before—Catherine flips through the dictionary with expertise. Going from A to Z, or Z to R, comes easily to her. She'd studied this book she never particularly liked, because she knew it. Dictionaries always send you reading back and forth. Habit had given her fingers a skill that reduced the annoyance of doing so... It was almost as if she had the pages counted. But now, with uncharted territory, she'd have to learn all over again.

And she already knew where to start.

<Sexual desire

"Hm..."

Sexual, huh? Relating to sex. She knows what it is... She has an anecdote about how she found out.

>begin the ignorable
One ordinary morning deep in the forest, her father decided to move out in search of a pile of metal tubes he swore he'd seen during a previous excursion. They had to walk carefully, stepping only on stones or roots along the path, leaving no traces. For the Hills, this was like breathing—each step avoided the ground itself, while their gaze wandered freely: leaves spiraling down like tiny helicopters, light filtering miraculously through the trees, ants climbing up and down trunks in perfect sync with their own footsteps.

Her dad stayed silent, as always. He didn't talk unless necessary. Instructions, lessons, or answers to the random questions Catherine kept blurting out—that's all he usually said. Only when necessary.

And then it became necessary. Her curious eyes, darting from side to side, landed on two of those wild dogs that roam the woods, living fugitive lives just like them, but without any concern for hiding. They were fucking kek

"What's he doing to Cacao?"

She said, stopping dead and pointing at the scene. A canonical moment for many children. Her father, a towering mountain compared to her, halted. Just his unique way of stopping—so slow and heavy—was imposing. He glanced at what was happening, then dismissed it with disinterest. Without looking at his wide-eyed, almost startled daughter, he replied.
"Is it the dog?"

With a question, of course. "'Cocoa?'"

Catherine
"I named him Cocoa. He's one of the dogs that wanders near the cave. I don't know the other one."

She explained.

Father
"You're still naming dogs?"

Catherine
"Yes."

Father
"I told you not to do that."

Catherine
"..." -she didn't respond- "What are they doing?" -she insists-

Father
"It's called sex." -he replied bluntly-

Catherine
"Sexooo?" -she tilted her head-

Father
"Exactly what I said. Why are you repeating it? You're not adding anything. What did I tell you about not speaking?"

Catherine
"Why are they doing it?"

Father
"They reproduce. That's how babies are made."

Catherine
"Babies?"

She received an annoyed look. His beard was thick and his eyes were sunken, a tired man with pupils as black as the deepest pit of hell. He was somewhat frightening, and though Catherine was used to that terrifying face... seeing his irritation almost made her jump.

"I meant... seriously? Is that how they made me?"

Father
"Yes." -he replied simply and turned forward again- "Now let's go. We have things to do."

The answer wasn't entirely satisfying. It was direct, but didn't explain much—sex remained disconnected information. So much so, that seeing those naked boys hugging and about to kiss had never registered in her mind as an imminent act of that sort.

End of the unnecessary

Catherine
So when she read it, she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. She put away the dictionary, and they continued on their way. Doubts about the nature of this place arise with each step, as the ownership of objects seems to blur when everything is just a pile of things anyone can take.

They have a sort of... Uuuhhh... Code of honor, passed down from a very, very long time ago.

"I don't." -he said while looking through a telescope he'd picked up as Hilda was explaining that-

He points it at Hilda, her eye enlarged from the other side of the lens—it's funny.

"You look big."

That's also why there are so many things—many of the owners are genuine old geezers. The leader's parents used it too.
"Hm..."

Lowers the telescope, supposes she should respect. Or something. Puts it carefully back among the pile of objects again. The whole "don't alter the environment" thing? Seems like that sort of stuff got left in the past along with the comfort this new place gave her.

And then—startle! A cabinet suddenly swings open; the girl jumps and quickly takes cover behind her beloved best friend... There's a person inside, but zero hostility.

With her huge eyes, alert like a meerkat, Catherine watches as the most casual conversation unfolds. She doesn't join in, just takes Hilda's hand and observes everything with perfectly neutral expression.

<Romance is for fools.

Her little eyes dart sideways for a second, glancing at Hilda. Then back... she's right. Never been a fan of those novels where love is the main driving force.

<A friend?

Now her eyes look toward the person.

<It's A-...

And immediately dart back to Hilda. But she can silence herself just fine.

<Catherine.

Now she can look at the guy again.

<Not a friend—my best friend!

Nods her head in a definitive: YES. That's what she is. No doubts.

<Their names rhyme like a pleasant sonata.

According to Catherine's knowledge of rhyming rules, she doesn't think their names actually rhyme all that well. Not even the real ones, or real with fake. But she's no lyrical genius—maybe they do, and she kinda likes the idea anyway.

<Why not get one of my wares to celebrate your precious friendship?

The albino hasn't got a single cent to rub together, so she refrains from bargaining. Hilda, on the other hand, has teeth. The Oregon girl blinks a couple times, like... 'Huh?'

Apparently, this stuff is like honey for bees—but for fairies. In fact, they point at one. It's an ugly creature, but either that sense of danger she had during her first days is messed up, or she doesn't sense any particular aggression from it. It doesn't scare her, but apparently it's still better kept at a distance. And don't basic partygoers look like that anymore under its influence?

The repellent was a drink. Hilda shares the half she leaves behind. It reminds her of carbonated drinks her father had very, VERY rarely allowed her to drink. Not that she dislikes them—she's just not entirely used to them. Sometimes flavor over food is fine.
Well, she'd never tried an energy drink before. She took a sip... the taurine, with its distinctive taste that Catherine would describe as "acidic, or citrusy, or something in between," made her raise her eyebrows. She drank a little more, in little bird pecks.

"Mm..."

She likes it, but it's... weird. But yeah, she sipped it slowly.

<Hey! We gotta put that in the book, it's useful.

"Mhm, mhm."

She replied with quick nods, seeming a bit jittery. Then she drank more. The can was already empty. Catherine feels the urge to crush it against her forehead or something, but she doesn't. What the hell was in that? She feels more awake than usual.

In this state, something catches her attention—Cat quickly approaches a jar. Is it water? No, it's poison. From a very venomous snake, no less. What the hell does she want with this? Cat spins around like a top the moment her shoulder is touched... it's just Hilda. She relaxes...

(Calm down...)

She forces herself to tone down the effects of that weird drink as something is placed in her hair. When she looks at her world again—and around, because her world is Hilda (aww) kek—she feels something cold on her head. It's also a bit annoying, that unique sensation of ice that chills and burns at the same time.

At least it's small, so not too bad.

"¿Hm?"

A shadow flower, they say. Catherine should look in the mirror to see her lost innocence. And... it's accurate. Those colors make her quickly rub her eyes to try and stave off a migraine... it brings back bad memories of that time reality broke. When she looks again...

Well... she's beautiful.

Though Catherine's never paid attention to such things... she's naturally pretty. Dad used to say she looked just like her mom... and she thinks her mom was beautiful. So by extension, she can say she's cute.

"Hm..."

Maybe the flower enhances and guides her into thinking that way. But Hilda isn't convinced.

<It kind of distracts from what's important.

"¿Hm?" —she looks at her, what does she mean?—

<You're prettier than that flower, no doubt.

The albino gives a small smile.

"You're cuter," she said. "I like looking at you..."

She confesses. That's how she knows she finds her pretty... before, it made her feel weird in her stomach. Today, it feels nice somehow.
1/2
Cat/Ashley Scapolite-78c6ac No.5685 es
1d3ee93c44cbd15f9f1d54eb1131030cb3a4edc54ecf69fc495819ae88a18a12.jpg
32 KB 521×588
a2e274474a77518175acb8cb25247772c9931a3fe0139253b04baaed23f86a9e.jpg
126 KB 1200×675
4cf6db90ce7a73660c44ad46aa25256a36ec6e38d2a55ca63c21e4cf3e7fd62c.jpg
106 KB 524×399
>>5683
Two girls overreacting kek
>Catherine
Why did things have to turn out like this?

Can one stupid thing really destroy two weeks of pure love?

The pain—the kind only she truly understands—floods over her at the most unexpected moment. Four fangs and several pressures pierce into her flesh without holding back at all. Catherine kicks and flails, probably just causing herself more pain as she makes the teeth shift in her skin like tenderizing it.

She wrenches free, or they let her go. Doesn't matter—the ghost of the wound burns. She reconsiders things as she drags herself backward, her hand touching the still-wet bite mark, then bringing it back before her eyes to confirm or deny the presence of blood.

I bit you. She said. The reply was unsatisfactory, nonsense. What was she talking about? Group?

The girls don't see this the same way. It's clear. When she asks for reasons, when they demand to see, it repeats.

"Why...?"

She wants to understand. A clear, concise explanation.

<Did I hurt you? I had to do it. Only when the marks go deep do they last—I know from experience.

"W-why...?"

Still doesn't understand, still insists. Wants to understand. For Catherine, biting is the last resort, the strongest attack she has. Even a desperate measure... it didn't compute that Hilda would make her let her guard down so completely just to sink her teeth in...

...she was so vulnerable... Felt violated kek

<It's just a bite, Ashley. I've been beaten, cut, even had bones broken, and I'm still whole. How can you freak out like this over a stupid bite?!

Catherine just shrinks in place. Feels scolded, it hurts. Is she the one who's wrong? But... what terrifies her is what came after.

A blow—on herself. Ironically, her fear vanished with another shock. Cat stares at Hilda, eyes wide and mouth open... she didn't want that... just an explanation. Didn't want her hurting herself... But now she's... like a statue.

She wasn't sure what to say or do. Seeing her like this, with such sad, watery eyes... made her feel in a horrible way she couldn't explain.

<Dark was right... I'm no good for this. My place is outside, in the labyrinths.

What did Catherine do this time?

Nothing.

She'd like to say that once again, with her limited way of speaking, she found something beautiful to say, something to fix things.

But she could only watch with pain in her chest as everything seemed to collapse without her being able to say a word. The words coming from her mouth make her so raw that her tears start flowing too, joining Hilda in utter sadness.
They turn their backs.

Ashley leans against the mattress wall for a long while. She cries silently; the meaning behind her tears... wasn't happiness, nor was it pain. It was the sadness squeezing her heart, leaving her helpless, dwelling on what had just happened.

Things escalated faster than anything she'd ever seen. In her mind, the film reel spins, replaying everything over and over for a long time.

She doesn't know how much time passed like that. But it was enough for her to finally rise above the ache suggested by loss. Catherine walked up to Hilda and suddenly yanked her hair. It wasn't gentle, wasn't affectionate—it was a violent tug, an attack meant to grab attention.

When Hilda turned around, the albino was already on all fours, facing her, still tearful. She had shed her coat, now wearing only her usual light, comfortable dress that allowed full mobility.

"Fight me."

She demanded—and didn't wait, tackling the girl immediately, still exploiting her shock, knocking her to the ground. She pinned her wrists and loomed over her face-to-face, her pelvis pressing down, trapping Hilda's torso between her legs. The diamonds streaming from her beautiful green eyes fell onto the other girl.

"I'm going to subdue you..."

She panted, lips a breath away. So she didn't tame her? She'll do it by force.

That's how nature works. That's how wolves work... The following is outdated information Catherine believes because she lived isolated in the forest until 1999, the year this was actually changed

In wolf packs, there are alphas and betas. To decide this, there are constant fights until submission. They aren't fights where full strength is used, except in extreme cases... but establishing dominance is important.

Catherine's eyes, even through pain and tears, showed her determination. She would subdue Hilda—and to do so, she'd follow an eye for an eye. Her mouth opened, revealing her long fangs, and then she went for Hilda's shoulder, delivering a bite...

Not sure if a combat roll is really needed here, but just in case...

Attack: 1d30 = 10
Agility: 1d50 = 10
Using 30 because, just as she understands dominance fights, she wouldn't use her full strength in the bite. But she'd use all her agility in case Hilda somehow manages to dodge in this situation kek

They began to love through fighting. Through fighting, they should continue to love... Right?

Aldo. All of this could've been avoided if Hilda had just said something like: "I'm gonna bite you, okay?" And Cat would've been like "but why tho" and then "trust" and then "wenu aaaaaa"
Rolero Liroconite-2e2e41 No.5686 es
f4181370b7d85779a8c14db7df3da35e036d92f8193514df0c47f18bd5fbf681.webp
35 KB 386×259
spoiler
10 KB 250×295 spoiler
>>5665
>>5666
>>5667
>>5668
>It wasn't clear to me whether Marie had overheard the conversation since she was sitting next to Luz up front.
This time, let's assume Marie sat behind Luz and therefore heard the talk.

<Marie Griffin (Day 52, hour 9)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 69/70
Hunger: 21/21 - Thirst: 21/21
- Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
- Agility: 9
- Endurance: 16 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷2 damage taken)
- Luck: 1
Inventory:
- Pockets 2/4
Super-Phone (Off. Charge 14/16)
Joseph's Charger
- Pink Backpack 6/10
Pencil
Notebook
Almond Water Bottle (15/15)
Smiled Fluid
Toothbrush
White Cat Ear Headband

Level 92
Being Superman, being like Kirito. Becoming the strongest and making a difference—that's what you aspired to. The Colombian doesn't burst into laughter upon hearing your childish dream, but she does give you a half-smile; she found the story amusing.

Luz: Wow... You're surprisingly ambitious, you know? Most people usually just settle for traveling safely or not getting eaten by a monster. But you...

She caresses your hand between her fingers.

Luz: You've got a big heart. Maybe if this place were more like, I don't know, Hogwarts? Then it wouldn't be so far-fetched.

Isekai for normies—Hogwarts is the comparison that comes most naturally to her. She gives you another little kiss on the cheek.

Luz: For now, I don't need you to save the world. Just being by my side is enough. Besides...

Her smile fades, as if reaching a difficult topic.

Luz: Being the strongest isn't always a good thing. There are people it changes. Haven't you ever wondered why the leader, despite knowing so much, only has a bronze compass? She understands that exploring too much brings dozens of risks and sacrifices.

Every family has its quirks and fears—Luz's mom, for example, wouldn't approve of your relationship. But Luz assures you that doesn't matter to her.

Luz: I like you. Mom can't change that. She'll just have to accept it and understand. Don't think she's bad—I love her a lot. She just comes from a different upbringing; she got hit with flip-flops as a kid.

...

Fortunately for you, Luz assumes you were lost in thought, worrying about Sezh, rather than eyeing her body.

You've already been away from home and separated from your parents for nearly two months. You could consider the backrooms your personal campsite, or at least that's the idea Luz gives you—she loves seeing the glass half full. But if that's not enough for you...

Luz: With all the levels out there, there had to be one like this. Here you go, level 118.

She says, the encyclopedia open on the floor between you. You glance at the text and the photo.

Level 118 is a forested area, with a large body of water at its center, an abandoned woodcutters' camp, and scattered tents dispersed throughout the woods.

Luz: It's not that far, we just need to watch out for living fires, the forest cult, and not stepping into the lake where your worst fears emerge.

She puffs one cheek, pushing with her tongue. She clearly has doubts.

Luz: Nah... We don't have time to spare. Maybe on our next expedition, once you've gained more experience.

She looks up when you clarify ownership of the bonsai. She gives you a little smirk.

Luz: What's mine is yours. ¡?!Communist Luz?!
With Jane, there's little they can do. They'll have to try helping Seriozha when they return to the farm—she's her friend, and she needs that support, even if she's sure to reject it if offered.

...

Lunita: Me...? Am I a weird fungus...?

That's not quite what you meant to say.

Lunita: A weird fungus...

But her voice sounds unexpectedly delighted and content with the comparison, as if the fungal scenario appeals to her more than being Excalibur's cousin. If you're curious, pic spoiler: it's Anti-Moon's appearance. It's an ideal world with infinite time—there'd be a mini arc where she appears, kek. How? As a ghost in the style of Merlin, the first (and only) antagonist Eiko ever had. Maybe in a scenario where the little troublemakers start playing with a ouija board.

...

How many sunrises happened during your last "night"? Almost as many as the fingers on one hand, but your attention was focused on other delightful aspects. Places whose memory not even the worst nightmares could tarnish.

Luz: Let me.

She takes the trouble to lather and scrub your back. If something's watching, it's probably just an entity, so it doesn't matter (??). They don't use rainwater, but almond water instead—Luz carries her backpack full of bottles because, as she always says: Hydration is essential, and this time they have no choice since the houses on this level are so simple they lack plumbing or bathrooms. There aren't dining tables either, but there is a sofa they can use as one while sitting on the floor, listening to your favorite breakfast soundtrack.

Luz: Today I feel very independent, I don't know how to explain it...

She sweeps the room with her gaze. Maybe because having breakfast like this, with her girl, in a home they've made their own, feels almost like having a formal adult relationship. She turns her attention back to you when you show her the song. Luz always has a smile for you, and this time is no different.

Luz: It's a nickname, means Little girl.

She moves closer, pressing her shoulder against yours. She sings, in Spanish, but she wants to communicate, for you to understand.

In your eyes there's a shadow of deep sorrow...

I wouldn't want to see you like this, even if you try to hide it... If you're truly so sad, why keep it silent?

The magic of the liminal space works—those lyrics, always a beautiful mystery to you, are now being revealed through the voice of your cherished girl.

Chiquitita, you know very well, sorrows come and go and disappear. You'll dance again and be happy, like flowers that bloom...

Chiquitita, don't cry, the stars shine for you up in the sky. I want to see you smile, to share your joy, chiquitita.

At some point, it stopped feeling like mere recitation, and became more like she was speaking directly to you. Then you finally realized your sorrow and nostalgia were transparent to her—they were far too connected.

Luz: The song's about friendship and unconditional support. It's so beautiful... Now I know your mom is a very sweet and sentimental person, just like you.

She gives you an Eskimo kiss with the tip of her nose. The song's message was more than spot-on.

1/2

I'll probably finish the shift tomorrow. Sorry for cutting it here, I'm really tired and have to wake up early. Happy All Saints' Eve.
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5687 es
3c6ccfa40513755c35e895fdc08db872ebc8a5d60b73743156b856b5dd74ad1f.jpg
82 KB 585×585
814feaab080604a5693092b1b9edb388489155798c6e5b77ac8980e551ff0996.jpg
337 KB 824×1200
987f8d39db47ca93e84d01114ada990ae1eb745f9f76ae848a613170d2c66742.jpg
81 KB 1280×720
spoiler
14 KB 250×278 spoiler
Luz: Marie, that's what explorers call points of interest that help with navigation and geographic identification. Not just here, but also on planet Earth... like, landmarks on a map.

But she concedes that "mojón" might not be the most glamorous or appropriate term. The point is, this appears to be an unidentified point of interest.

Luz: Do you have space in your notebook? We should record it to share with our fellow wanderers. It's strange and distinctive enough to deserve a name... How about "Marie's Sign"?

The Colombian didn't want to get too close. She asked you to throw your sword into the grass several times to see what would happen. After a couple of attempts, and after Luz tossed one of her shoes, they concluded the grass patches are exactly what they appear to be.
Luz: Let's not sit on the chair, it's too risky.

A phrase you never imagined hearing.

Luz: Take a few photos if you can. Focus on the sign—it's definitely the most striking thing here, don't you think?

You're taking photos... Just like in the dream! But Luz isn't bald, and she's not in a bad mood. Though that Doakes guy really was Latino... Maybe time really is a flat circle.

Keep moving. The sign stays behind. The walk is long, but flies by while chatting with your girl. Luz reveals that, unlike you, she hasn't dreamed in a long time.

Luz: I practically haven't dreamed since I ended up in here. Sometimes I even wonder if this is some kind of dream, and it sure looks like one. But... I'd never doubt this. These years have been better than anything I could've wished for, and I pray the coming ones will be just as good or even better.

Her gaze wanders across the sky, her mind drifting into waking reveries.

Luz: Finding a nice level... Like this one, but without monsters at night. Maybe even founding a safe house as the leader, and a greenhouse.

Safe house... It's easy to forget because of the slang Charmy uses when referring to you all, but it doesn't change the fact that it was a shelter for unlucky kids. Momo, Luz, Hilda, you... All of you were lost at some point, but for one reason or another ended up saved under the small yet strong wing of the leader.

Luz: What would you like for your future, Marie?

A new image in the level, but this one actually appears in Luz's encyclopedia. It's an exit—but to where?

Luz: I don't want to ruin the surprise, but I'm sure you'll love it. Come on!

She lets go of your hand and hurries toward the house connected to a slide, whose tongue ends in a shallow-looking lake poorly surrounded by a metal railing. One thing's clear: Level 92 doesn't understand the purpose of boundaries, since they seem placed randomly. You head to the house, just as simple as the last one, except this one comes with a "pool."

Luz: The notes specify that if we use the slide, the water shouldn't get us wet.

She says after checking the pages again.

Luz: I should really get a laptop and a PDF version...

She bites her lip.

Luz: But physical books have so much magic... Goodness.

There's a struggle between mysticism and efficiency going on in that brown little head. Either way, Luz sits at the top of the slide and looks at you.

Luz: I'll see you on the other side.

She winks, releases the handrails, and lets gravity pull her down. The water splashes and swallows Luz's body whole as if it were the Mariana Trench. Seconds later, the lake grows still again, and a powerful silence surrounds you. Without company, this dreamlike landscape stretching into infinity... suffocates. When was the last time you were alone in a level?

Luz is waiting for you. You climb onto the slide, plant your butt down, and let yourself fall. You throw one last fleeting glance at the level's horizon, catching (Pic spoiler) a burn mark among the houses.

The water splashes and engulfs you, closing your eyes.

2/2
Rangato Goshenite-d79de4 No.5688 es
65b4168511a3286385e4f6d3caaa16ec5723ab8d4eab998438665bd17fe2a2f4.jpg
99 KB 850×1202
spoiler
215 KB 1094×1600 spoiler
spoiler
221 KB 1094×1600 spoiler
spoiler
315 KB 1094×1600 spoiler
>>5681
>>120572
It was just a cameo, nothing more from the Strange Kid kek

Well, this situation is strange, why are all the people suddenly so difficult? Well, they have no other options, so at the risk of getting hurt... Or for Rando to get hurt because Ghasto doesn't care about being shot, this one leaves the persuasion to the kitten.

[You don't have to be a rat or anything, we don't want to hurt them, it's the opposite... The girl I was with, she's my sister, can you see the resemblance? We just want to reunite with them...]

They're almost the same if it weren't for some rather subtle details already mentioned, really they have nothing else apart from going to find them themselves for whatever levels, so they have to appeal to their good side.

[Both of them were being hunted at this moment, we would feel more at ease if we knew they were okay... And if they want something for the information, we can negotiate...]

He doesn't know if it worked, but at least it would be better than if Rando spoke.

>aldo

You asked me exactly what I meant by a personal scene, I meant one of these in spoilers... I thought you had already seen Chester's and the others in the meta thread kuek

>>5685
Black, Handsome, I don't know if you were the one who cited all the monkeys from the role... But... Can you do it again? I didn't take a capture or copy it, ay...
Rolero Liroconite-2e2e41 No.5689 es
b53c1be724ea81157c53b524f4d6b5095873c5dc8ba865c18e9d9230034b0f92.jpg
67 KB 1024×768
4da68e37e42f8757afdfe73c76d6e387bc48388e524ae0b0d97b307f823ccdf0.webp
160 KB 1080×1105
>>5673
<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, hour 9)
HP: 30/80
Energy: 98/100
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 20/21
-Strength: 8 + 7 Lever
-Agility: 10 - 5 Star orange coat
-Stamina: 10 + 5 Star orange coat
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 0/4
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
Lever in hand, you direct the robots as best as you can. You discard the neurotoxins for obvious reasons, but at least the barricade is progressing. However, an unexpected visitor at the gate disrupts the plans. You use Laguerta's name—you know she's in charge of the town's security.

??? (Unknown): "There's a new sheriff in town! And his name is Bill!"

They respond aggressively, but stop their kicks. You take advantage of that deceptive calm to widen the hole in the wall a bit more with the lever, while explaining you don't plan to leave anyone behind.

Flametower-18k: "I'm not someone, I'm a weapon."

He clarifies, but doesn't argue your decision. Keeping the same emotionless expression, he grabs you by the waist and helps you climb onto the display next to the gate. From this new height, you see beams of light sweeping through the hole in the wall from outside. The strangers have chosen to circle the building, and as you wait for them to reveal their intentions, you hear rubber scraping on snow and the engine roaring.

The truck crashes into the gate, smashing the mechanisms, gears, and chains. The vehicle doesn't fully penetrate—it gets stuck in the frame, the gate weighing down on the hood, cushioned by your barricade. Flametower's hands light up, and the previously cold, dark environment ignites with nearly liquid streams of flame shooting from the robot boy's palms.

You're too close—the heat evaporates any trace of cold and slaps your face like a blow. The driver screams and throws himself out the door, only to land sprawled and burning. At the same time, steel claws yank you downward—it's ROB, who, without letting go, moves you so he's positioned between you and the truck. The fire reaches the gas tank and it explodes.
You wake up to the heat and the sound of bullets hitting wood. You open your eyes—around you, a thousand electronic components are burning. How long has it passed? An hour? Ten seconds? A scorched ROB and Flame loom over you. One side of Flame is burning, but his expression remains impassive. The ceiling creaks and cracks; wooden beams collapse and shatter onto the floor. It seems you'll die here—burned, crushed by the collapsing structure, or maybe hit by one of those rifle rounds that have been piercing through from outside this whole time.

Flametower-18k: ....

Without uttering a word, Flame picks you up like a baby. His touch burns (-10 HP), even more so as the heat inside him intensifies (-20 HP), forming blisters and bubbles of flesh on the arm pressed closest to him. Fire erupts from the soles of his feet. Both of you rise, leaving ROB behind.

The ceiling, weakened by the disaster, shatters like papier-mâché as the machine's oversized head smashes through it. They ascend in a smoke column—the warehouse beneath them finishes collapsing. Bullets whistle past; the men keep shooting. Flame's skull reverberates like a bell when struck, but suffers no further damage.

They burn fuel, lose momentum, and the smoke column bends. They pass over rooftops—over the crater where a battered Alondra is being dragged from the wreckage of her destroyed mecha. Overseeing this task is a man with a mustache and a whip soaked in electric blue, his gaze locking with yours for a split second—Flame keeps burning onward, past the wheat fields, and...

...slams backward onto the forest's edge, cushioning your fall with his own body. The impact blacks out your vision; both of you rebound in opposite directions. You crash into a tree trunk and collapse face-down among the cold roots (-20 HP). Everything hurts.

You half-open your eyes, and through your blurry sight, a few meters away, lies Flametower, half his body melted from overexertion. Despite the massive damage, he still has just enough energy to look at you and speak.

Flametower-18k: Vital signs... still detectable... Did I... do well...?

A few seconds after asking, his eyes darken, and the throb of his engine dies.

The frozen forest falls silent. The wheat field rises to your left, its stalks still bearing the weight of snow. From the village, gunfire echoes—Bill is still trying to seize control. Meanwhile, on the horizon, the presence of the white walkers is almost palpable.

You have to decide what to do.
Rolero Liroconite-2e2e41 No.5690 es
9bd2cc014de058e05d70108fdd92f7ba7d2b826f601b0a0cb567701869b2925a.jpg
30 KB 736×473
8a42abc6c6dec4952fbc2d2d454597c2ef08d357c51c282bb7952a9086b74654.jpg
169 KB 1200×2100
9c4d505a115df891713dd56d5e35894f0e40806d9e4867669aeb8f40f789f43c.webp
36 KB 678×900
ebc691d3015f8750287cbad264e408ca07a84432133622cf258c41326557e055.jpg
283 KB 1920×1280
c0378af957543fb432ab461ed51e83545cbd10cb37b016fbdfae49129008fa79.jpg
308 KB 1080×1350
>>5675
<Donatello Lombardi (Day 30, hour 15)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 38/70
Hunger: 18/31 - Thirst: 23/40
-Strength: 5 + ? Nutcracker of Alondra
-Agility: 5
-Stamina: 7 + 5 Hazmat Suit (Anti-radiation. Child size)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 1/4
Emma
Techniques:
-Bat-breaker: For one turn, use 1d100 rolls. Sacrifice the bat being wielded.

???
Despite showing vast differences from the Irene you knew, your heart knows she's still your sister. You worry about her, and want to know how she's doing.

Irene Gold: I'm at peace. I don't aspire to anything more than that at this point. Thank you for asking, Donny. You're the first person I've had a friendly chat with in years. It feels... good.

Without fading her sweet smile, she reaches out and places her hand on your head, ruffling your hair in a gentle stroke.

Irene Gold: Were you always this small and adorable...?

She pulls her hand away, but leaves behind a faint metallic stench from blood in your hair. She tilts her body toward the monolith. The artifact reacts to her presence—darkness floods with lines of light forming an image, as if seen through flawless glass. You glimpse a long, solitary hospital corridor. What could it mean?

Irene Gold: I'd like to take you with me and talk, catch up on all the lost years... But that's a fantasy. It's important you remember, Donny—how many "me's" have you met?

She watches you closely. She seems aware of what happened, of how her original self tripped and everything started going wrong. She waits for you to gather your thoughts, then continues.

Irene Gold: I spoke with a lonely me who hid behind training, and a broken me driven mad, one step away from becoming a monster... The rest I killed.

The news might hit you like a bucket of cold water. Now your eyes keep locking onto the blood soaking the beautiful, voluptuous figure of your sister. Irene Gold waits impassively. You sense that for her, killing has long been just a formality.

???: Stay away from him, Crimson Demon.
A

male

voice

declares

from

fifteen

steps

behind

you.

You

turn

around,

and

on

the

same

asteroid

where

they

lie,

you

see

a

single

open

door,

and

in

front

of

it,

three

people:

a

slim

young

man

wearing

a

white

cloak;

a

skinny

girl

with

a

long

ponytail

and

daggers

on

her

belt;

a

silent

knight

in

full

armor,

from

whom

you

can

only

see

his

eyes

drenched

in

blood

through

the

visor

of

his

helmet.

The

leader

pushes

the

bridge

of

his

glasses

with

one

finger

before

speaking.

???: Our

benefactor

warned

us

we'd

encounter

a

golden

compass...

but

I

never

imagined

it

would

be

someone

so

infamous.

Under

other

circumstances,

I'd

order

my

team

to

flee...

but

duty

compels

me

to

complete

this

rescue,

Crimson

Demon.

Irene

remains

silent

and

motionless,

but

she

no

longer

smiles;

instead,

her

eyes

shift

toward

the

objects

the

strangers

carry.

The

air

vibrates

around

them,

light

bending

distortedly—

clearly,

they

carry

a

series

of

anomalous

artifacts.

The

man's

gaze

turns

to

you.

???: Boy,

you're

Donatello

Lombardi,

right?

I'm

Cabal.

Mathematician

by

hobby,

explorer

by

calling,

and

leader

of

team

Aurora.

I

don't

know

what

twisted

lies

this

woman

has

told

you,

but

you

don't

have

to

deal

with

her

anymore...

come

with

me,

I'll

take

you

to

your

mother.

She's

waiting

for

you

on

level

26,

the

museum.

He

extends

his

hand

toward

you,

a

gesture

for

you

to

approach.

Something

inside

you

makes

you

hesitate,

and

Cabal

is

shrewd

enough

to

notice

your

doubt.

With

a

flick

of

his

arm,

he

tosses

you

something

spherical;

your

baseball

reflexes

make

you

catch

it

before

you

even

recognize

its

shape:

a

red

skull.

The

skull

in

your

palms

ignites,

bathing

the

area

in

its

crimson

glow,

a

strange

energy

crawling

like

worms

through

your

eyes

and

ears.

Under

this

aura,

you

feel

utterly

incapable

of

lying.

Cabal: Our

benefactor

advised

us

to

obtain

this

object

before

coming,

assuring

it

would

be

useful.

This

artifact

is

called

the

Skull

of

Hammurabi's

Judge,

and

under

its

light,

no

one

can

lie.

Our

benefactor

said

you'd

be

suspicious...

but

the

truth

is,

the

woman

beside

you

is

a

murderer,

and

my

goal

is

to

safely

deliver

you

to

your

mother.

He

is

telling

the

truth.
Rolero Clinohedrite-94bdd5 No.5691 es
e213689a7796d464abb8c4ba0bbf6cebba385a4816f09d81fc943b95b052ae98.webp
354 KB 1000×1400
131865208a7720b0b2ae4f91d5d74a333cf4f659130a8dbbd443f5bde6ace570.jpg
132 KB 850×1202
0685c590d20bc2e787d1e3120110cd7e369ecc14ee8d791da8a85120be3e65ea.jpg
118 KB 850×845
spoiler
21 KB 600×600 spoiler
>>5675
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 60, Hour 12)
HP: 140/150
Energy: 77/80
Hunger: 38/40 - Thirst: 38/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 10
-Stamina: 10
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 1/4
Eye of Argus
Techniques
-Ultra Instinct: Maximum secret of the body judging itself on its own (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it is used).

Level 10
It's been a while since they left the urban landscape, now through the windows there's only a long road flanked by walls of wheat. The albino rests his elbow on the open window frame, rests one side of his face in his palm, and his expression appears to be one of deep disinterest towards the world, but in his eyes burns a glint of seriousness. Something worries him, and after he ignored your comment "A thank you wouldn't hurt," you sense the key lies in the words the stranger said before. You get his attention when you assure him you can help, he looks at you with interest that evolves into suspicion the moment you blackmail him.

??? (Albino): I'm Polar, and I'm a ninja.

He says, dry and direct, still ignoring the gratitude part.

??? (Albino): Level 12...? No... I'm new here.

You give him the orb anyway. He exchanges glances between the artifact and you.

Polar: Thanks.

He finally says, and follows your instructions, thinking of the person he wants to see. The mist in the Eye clears and shows a scene he always dreamed of: a kitsune miku floating down a narrow street of brick houses, in the company of a girl with brown hair braided into two pigtails (Momo), who rides a bike and uses an umbrella to shield herself from a rain of milk. Perhaps Momo wasn't part of your otaku fantasy, but the young woman with fox ears and tail was. To top it off, they find an orange object while passing by an alley, and in their ignorance, they start using it as a soccer ball (Pic spoiler).

Polar's shoulders relax, though his face remains just as surly, and you suspect he was born angry.
Polar: The brat's still alive... And now she's flying. Tsk, what kind of trouble's she been getting into?

But Polar's search doesn't end there. He spends another use, and now the Eye focuses on an obese man in a tight hazmat suit, lying on the single bed of a dusty room. His prominent belly swells and deflates with snores. Polar leans in, trying to make out some detail that could help him identify the place, but mutters in frustration—without more data, playing detective is pointless, especially in a place like the Backrooms.

Polar: That damn fat bastard with tits, instead of finding himself a girl or a job, just lies around all day.

???: I know... I know that room.

A timid voice says from the back seat. When they turn, they find the wooden boy peeking out—he'd been spying on what they were doing. You remember he's called Junior.

Junior: Can I? Can I use it too...?

Apparently, Polar and you aren't the only ones looking for people.

Junior: It's Mrs. Gloria's room, at the radio station. When she was alive, she used to give me cookies and honey candies, and we'd listen to music... Until she passed away from old age several months ago.

Old age. An unusual cause of death in the Backrooms, but one you're familiar with. Polar seems determined to go after the obese man, and the wooden boy is willing to guide him—he claims to know the infinite city like the back of his hand, because it's literally his home.

Polar stands up and tells León to stop. The albino announces he's heading back to level 11. Junior will accompany him. And you...? Will you keep going toward the field, or head back with them? If you chose the former, you'd find yourself in the following scenario...

1/2

Hope work went well. Starting to grind is always quite an experience (in many cases a bad one), especially if it's your first time, but you get used to it. Now you're a worthy and functional member of society, bro. Remember to treat yourself once in a while—life isn't all responsibility. Congrats, and hugs
Rolero Clinohedrite-94bdd5 No.5692 es
b64bb2f5ef0f84a08fc0bb9b1ba78e61ff7b00191e6f6addb6a4b82183c4ce37.jpg
7 KB 277×182
>>5691
>>5675
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 60, 13:00)
HP: 140/150
Energy: 76/80
Hunger: 37/40 - Thirst: 37/40
- Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
- Agility: 10
- Resistance: 10
- Luck: 3
Inventory:
- Pockets 1/4
Eye of Argos
Techniques
- Migatte no gokui: Maximum secret of self-judgment (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it is used).

Level 10
The sound of rattles comes from the dark outside.

Leon slows down until the bus comes to a complete stop. Hank approaches to ask why they aren't moving, and Leon points with his chin toward the road.

Hank: What the hell…

Leon: Never said it better.

Halfway down the road, several dozen children stand still with pale skin and frosted hair. Their eyes, bright blue, show no intention, just a cold emptiness that doesn't sparkle under the bus lights. Some wear dirty clothes as if coming out of a mine, others infants wear spotless clothes as if prepared to go to church. Francine, acting as another of the adult responsible, asks the young ones to stay in their seats while she also goes to look.

Leon: There are more coming from the wheat field.

Francine: What are you waiting for? Start moving.

Hank: But if they're…

Francine: Kids? I know kids, and these things seem to have stopped being them a long time ago.

Hank: Hmm, I agree. Besides, we have people to take care of. Come on, Leon. No fear.

Leon was about to accelerate, but then Sue screamed. Faces turned worried, finding that the girl had her mouth open in joy and her face pressed against a window.

Sue: Santa is outside!

Red ribbons, like those used to wrap gifts, grow from the wheat field and brush against the glass where the girl is peeking. Sue opens the window so they can pass (In case Irene is present and tries to pull the girl away, she would need a minimum of 75 on an agility roll)

2/2
Rolero Clinohedrite-94bdd5 No.5693 es
71adee0169badcb10b83251f256b7ea4704a523167255e8b6becb8036126b0d9.jpg
20 KB 516×516
c6b16d6e9d4ad2c1c955d4ef77b5a80192f117be5d1e3dd2522a5142cfde0093.jpg
42 KB 735×413
a08100eedb9efc18dc9d5b5285cce02f1d2b8c270749fec4308253e4ec1786de.jpg
142 KB 1080×1037
666c90f3da3cb842d0a4e14b1629e9e3b90c8454e705bbf7c860f8b7c588bd2f.png
1.13 MB 1200×675
>>5676
<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, hour 8)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 0/50
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 19/20
-Strength: 11x2
-Agility: 10x2 - 10 Group supply bag
-Endurance: 11x2 + 15 Modified Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 3/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Brayan
Skills:
Werewolf (Transformation): x2 to base stats. x3 to base stats in aquatic environments.
-Effects
Insomnia (111/1964)

Level 21
Your late warning made Hilda send the group back to the church ruins. They spent an hour searching the debris for the missing person, finding only human bones, tattered blue cloth, and a melon-sized broken stone egg.

...

Besides the fallen, you had to leave behind the supply bag you were carrying. It was hard to put into words, but suddenly the bag started malfunctioning. Its different parts trembled and stuck out in various directions, with deep angles like rectangles that electrocuted on touch and produced a sound like nails scraping slate. You suspected it was because of the Game Boy you left at the bottom. Less food for the group only hastened the mutiny and Hilda's subsequent slaughter.

One of the severed arms rolled until it touched the tips of your toes; the owner—who still had one useful but trembling hand, attacked by spasms—raised a pistol at you, and Hilda did the same, pointing her sword at him. The steel spat a jet of fire that hit the subject, devouring him.

The smell of burning meat opened your appetite a little. Better not think about it.

...

Hilda puts on her skin mask and looks at you. Her gaze stands out beneath the wrinkled folds.

Hilda: This pathetic excuse of an entity is stupid and practically blind.

She kicks the beholder on the side. The watcher doesn't react.

Hilda: But it still has the instinct to obey the heralds, and it's one of the few creatures capable of finding where the hell the ministry ruins are. If there's an exit from the Backrooms, Dora theorized that the information has to be there, in a filing cabinet or something.

In a leap, Hilda mounts the creature's head. From this new height, she gives instructions to the group to free the entity from its shackles. The explorers obey, though with clear suspicion, using hammers and axes to break the chains, avoiding getting too close to the bug. The beholder waits impassive. Hilda extends a hand to you to climb up with her.

Hilda: You and I are the most resilient. If there's a chance that one of us makes it to the other side, it's worth betting on.

The explorers are left behind and wish you luck. You ride with Hilda; she shouts: "To the ministry!" and the entity seems to understand, rising a few centimeters as the space around you twists in shreds inward, as if sucked into a spiral.
The sensation feels powerfully familiar.

...

Level 25
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=54rmRIHF9LYThe movement halts abruptly. You land chest-first on the floor of a platform perched atop a smooth tower of silver, steel, and ivory. You remember the clouds, the intense light, the watchers flying, and the diamond casting its heavy shadow.

The scene is identical; there is no trace of cold or damage. Soon, an alarm reaches you, booming from the depths of the blue diamond, followed by the torrential beating of rotors against the wind. A half-dozen yellow helicopters ascend and surround them, firing cans that release trails of nerve agents.

Your suit's respirator protects you. A can strikes Hilda's feet; she lifts it with one hand, sniffs it deeply through her nose, and exhales a stream of gas from her mouth. She crushes the steel can and hurls it into the void. She raises her sword and shouts:

Hilda: What the hell is this?! What the fuck is going on?!

The helicopters land. Armed men in suits similar to yours descend, pointing rifles and machine guns at them. They move with perfect synchronization; there is skill and training behind it. But what stands out isn't any of the plumbers, but the obese man accompanying them, whom you recognize. The man removes his glasses, revealing eyes that glow with a sickly yellow—twin stars in a forgotten sector of the universe, sunrises over a planet with cities that look like scabs. The guy looks exactly as he did 30 years ago, though now you might perceive his sinister nature better.

Dr. Hermes: Welcome, wanderers. Our supercomputer predicted your arrival... The first to escape the Zero Containment Protocol.

Hilda spits on the ground, tells the doctor to shove his protocols up his ass, and demands answers.

Dr. Hermes: There are those who receive answers and those who receive rewards. I understand you're part of a survivor cell, aren't you? To finish polishing the edges of the protocol, it would be very beneficial to know the location of said cell. The Backrooms are truly a hidden treasure... Better to keep it hidden. Rejoice, because a normal life in a normal world awaits you. Reality.

He extends his arms to the sides as if inviting them for a hug. Hilda clenches her teeth; you realize she's seconds away from jumping, because even if she doesn't fully understand what the doctor is talking about, she senses it's bad news for her friends.

Dr. Hermes: So, what do you decide? Do you want to be a saint, or a Grinch? There are only two options; choose wisely. Saint...

He strikes the ground with the lower part of his cane. A slight tremor shakes the space like the growl of an incipient storm. A drop of sweat runs down Hilda's forehead.

Dr. Hermes: Or Grinch.
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5694 es
d40a7e2d6ea69ca5ecedb3666a3f341387847419ca9d5d0512d23b968df1ecf2.jpg
51 KB 735×601
037faa0f109c79cf9111553ac7ff25fb28addfc544505be422058d1417f164b5.png
859 KB 1600×1600
>>121315
>sat behind so she listened
Ayy well ok then kek I think it's Marie early days, level 1? I mean, judging by the personality Jane's showing. I'll interpret her as such. To fit it into a moment I like, I'll assume there was a class that wasn't roleplayed on day 8 before the trip to level 7 or something keksito.
>Marie (past)
Marie stared at Luz's back with her lips slightly puckered in mild sadness... How did we get to this point? Normally she'd be by her side, but today it was impossible. Maybe she arrived late? Unlikely—classes are her favorite part of being here. But still, she was slow, slower than whoever was beside her right now.

She let her hand rest on her elbow as she observed this coffee-colored girl. She was a friend... though Jane had already figured out that beneath this, there were flickers of affection that seemed impossible. Especially since she couldn't spend as much time with her as she wanted. Especially since the time they did spend together hadn't been as personal as she'd have liked. Falling in love wasn't new to her, nor was having no chance with the one she wanted. Even in a world that promised fresh starts... she felt like some things never changed. The red light project had only begun as an idea because they hadn't made a single move yet.

(Maybe I could tell her... uh... that we play... Undertale together...)

(Ugh... No. You don't have battery on your phone, Marie! Since...)

She trembles, remembering. The psychological wound was still fresh—just yesterday she'd wandered back home almost lost, completely dazed. She tried not to think about it. But it was hard; later they'd pass through the market, and Marie was clear—she wanted to get a smiler fluid and never lose it again.

Amid these thoughts, she glanced at Jane, her love guide. She looked at her discreetly, trying not to ignore how much she longed for any sign that the plan wouldn't stay just words. They were minding their own business, chatting about normal stuff a few tables away.

(Ugh Jane... give me a sign...)

<Know why they call orgasm "climax"?

"!?!"

Marie nearly pops an eye out, it practically jumps at what reaches her little ears. Her attempt at subtlety flies out the window.

Orgasm. Marie's innocence is at that point where one 'knows' and yet 'doesn't know'. She's aware enough to blush at the mere word, but theoretically, she doesn't know... or pretends not to know enough to convince herself of it.

(P-pfft, what are they saying...)

<Seriously, you don't know?

Marie looks away. Puts her little hands over her ears, turns rigid. She's not listening.

(Lalala. Fish ears.)

<It's because it's similar to death, dummies. The end, the final breath.

(¿Uh...?)

Her eyes dart sideways, she doesn't turn to look anymore. But out of the corner of her eye...

(Q-what does that have to do with...)

<You'd have to experience it to understand.
<Yeah right... What do you two know? I've never seen either of you with a boyfriend. It's impossible you've done it.

(Nope. Not listening.)
This part Marie really skipped. She covered her ears tightly with both palms, and didn't hear what came before. She didn't hear anything until curiosity overcame her again and she moved one of her hands away.

<Hilda knows.

(W-what-)

She's surprised. What? What does she know? Marie is red.

<What are you two whispering about?

She almost jumps out of her chair, stiffening like a soldier. N-nothing! She wanted to shout, an unwilling accomplice, but forced herself to stay quiet, avoiding everyone's gaze. Everyone does the same.

(Orgasms...)

(W-what the hell... What were they saying... Ugh...)

(F-forget it, Marie. Just... weird stuff.)

Like love... She still needs more time before experiencing her first one. Who would've thought dreams could come true, and that she'd experience both things hand in hand with the person she desired most...

>Marie (present)
That's just a distant memory. It's not relevant, not now. The present is too lovely to look back... unless there's something interesting in the past for someone who cares so much.

Superman is that something. A silly thing Marie would've preferred to keep hidden, nothing more. But when it's time to be honest... she'd do it for her. No matter how embarrassing it might be.

<Wow... You're surprisingly ambitious, you know that?

She's blushing, her eyes slightly narrowed and her smile showing the conflict between feeling flattered and not quite believing what she's hearing—or how she's hearing it.

"Ja... or just delusional, like I said..." -she replies, scratching the back of her head-

<Most people are usually happy just with traveling, or not getting eaten by a monster. But you...

"¿...?"

She looks puzzled for a moment, then her curiosity awakens at the sight of her girlfriend's joined hand. Her eyes glance down briefly, then back up, now with a small smile that accepts more. She tries to return the affection as best she can. It comes out a bit clumsy, stroking the hand that's already stroking hers... but she can't help it. She wants to reciprocate the contact somehow.

<You have a big heart.

"Ahf"

She wants to say something, but doesn't know what. Her voice this time is little more than a shapeless vibration of air, yet full of meaning. The beautiful compliment overwhelms her. She likes that someone sees kindness in her little heart... Even though she's always tried her best to be good, she can't recall anyone ever saying something so direct to her before.

<Maybe if this place were more like, I don't know, Harry Potter's school? It wouldn't be so far-fetched.

"Ja..." -she lets out a single chuckle; in a way, she's touched by the anime-equivalent Luz picks out of ignorance- "maybe-"

She also gets a little kiss that silences her. "Uy," says Marie, slightly opening her mouth in mild surprise before once again leaning closer to Luz to show her affection. She looks at her with a smile, resting against her. As if fascinated by what's right in front of her.

<For now I don't need you to save the world—just being by my side is enough. Besides...

"¿...?" -the fading joy is contagious; as Luz's smile fades, Marie's disappears too, her expression turning into one of concern-
<Being the strongest isn't always a good thing. There are people it changes.

"Changes them..." -she's almost sure she's heard this before, but she never asked further. This is the chance- "How so...?"

Marie isn't different; leveling up and increasing stats has changed her, even if just a little. That thing about casually crushing her glasses in her hands and never looking back, saying it was crazy—that's not something she would've done before.

<Haven't you ever wondered why the leader, with everything she knows, is only a bronze compass?

"Uh... No?" -she raises an eyebrow, unable to come up with a response. She shrugs her shoulders- "I just assumed... I dunno, that she didn't want to and that's it..."

<She understands that exploring too much brings dozens of risks and sacrifices.

"Hm..." -she looks up at the sky- "I see..." -forms a half-smile, but tries to hide it- "but I'll still become a gold compass anyway." -looks at Luz, unable to suppress the dumb grin of someone who's bad at jokes- "heh... joke. There are... things I'm not willing to sacrifice..." -her joking smile turns warmer, more personal, matching her eyes full of love. Before losing Luz... Marie would die a hundred times over- smells like foreshadowing about the future kek

That's what Marie thinks. Her love is real, that's how she feels. But there's always a "but"... They love each other. But what about what others will say? About approval... especially from their parents. Because Marie's parents are pretty religious too.

<I like you. Mom can't change that, she'll just have to accept and understand. Just don't think she's bad, I love her a lot. It's just that she comes from a different upbringing, they used to hit her with a flip-flop.

"Ouch... Yeah. I don't think they even raised their voice at me..." -she smiles, making a joke out of it. She intertwines her fingers with Luz's, looking at their joined hands with a growing smile, feeling more comfort the more she realizes this is real. Then she looks up- "I... I'm glad... that... that it's like this. I... I promise the same... I love you... n-no matter what..."

She says, looking her in the eyes. Simple words, but they come with truth. That's what matters.

...

Sometimes things weren't that complicated. They didn't have to be. Marie simply didn't go to camp because she was a daddy's and mommy's girl. Luz tries to cheer her up, but Marie shakes her head.

"I don't regret not going..." -she says smiling, doesn't think she needs to elaborate-

Could it have been fun? Maybe. But... she's always loved her parents. Time spent at home with them was never wasted.

<With all the levels out there, there had to be one like this. Here you go, level 118.

"Hm?"

Basically yes. It's a strange, abandoned camp, with details making it look like one of those liminal spaces commonly found in storage rooms. Empty tents here and there, and lots of forest.

"Described like that it's kinda creepy, huh? Haha..."
<It's not that far, we just have to watch out for living fires, the forest cult, and not stepping into the lake where your worst fears emerge.

"Uh... Only that...?" -gives a half-nervous smile. What else could make it not be "only that"? A murderous chainsaw-wielding maniac?

<Nah... We don't have time to spare. Maybe for our next expedition, once you've got more experience.

Marie sighs, then chuckles slightly.

"Jaja... Yeah, maybe..." -just say yes, that ends conversations- "...or maybe we'll find a more comfortable place with fewer living fires..." -she glances around the ceiling innocently, suggesting something less... dangerous-

Charmy. That was the bonsai's name, probably because of its compact size. Naming it that was one of the last things Marie expected Luz to do... It sounded almost mocking to her... but it was hers, so she could do whatever she wanted. Thing is, it was hers, but now she refers to it as Marie's.

<What's mine is yours.

"Ah." -that makes some sense- "And what's mine is yours?" -she questions the logic. Though she doesn't own much worth sharing anyway- "Wouldn't 'ours' be better?" -Marie's hair is red-

...

Later, the story of the Curse of Tutankhamun! And the weird mushrooms who were the unpaid actors for a long time.

<Me...? I'm a weird mushroom...?

"Uh? Actually—"

<A weird mushroom...

"Uh..."

(Well... I won't be the one to burst her bubble...)

"You can be whatever you want to be, Lunita."

I don't know how that would work. Would it just follow Marie around and annoy her? Or would it be a general nuisance to the whole group?

...

It's a bit curious. After an experience... unique in life, so to speak, they now acted with utter normalcy. Even though her mind couldn't stop replaying the moments over and over, artificially recreating through memories the sensation of caresses and touches that left her a victim of pleasure so intense it nearly killed her...

(Orgasm...?)

So that's what they were talking about. The word was starting to cease being merely forbidden, and was beginning to feel a bit appealing—she felt it somehow carried the 'power' needed to describe the sensations she'd gone through.

Maybe she'd cool down with a cold shower, which they were about to take. Though this one was proving awkward because being naked outdoors... well, she felt naked. She still hadn't touched her back yet.

<Allow me.

"Eh— y-yes, please..."

She blushes and runs a hand through her hair. Adding to the above, bathing with bottles also felt kind of weird. Marie couldn't help thinking it was almost a waste... but she really did need a shower after last night.

"Thanks..."

She says, after her back has been washed.

"Eh— d-do you want me to help you too?" -she asks, smiling, glancing back over her shoulder with a grin that quickly wavers. Seeing her naked like this after that night stirred up new—well, not exactly new—feelings inside her.
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5695 es
d22b80f4e1acaf6345dafdff3d5cb8535f812aad2b747af5d93ed73e3201801a.png
84 KB 334×281
490eb71d5066c0ca185b57ee4f923135c64ab489020253da97512d70abcc30f3.png
143 KB 1280×720
c305766881716195b140085ad95db02d283c07f3c39f6776e862542d1e3a183b.jpg
175 KB 1200×971
6e3c094941bfec4aad839511de869cbfc3164a63c66b3209541977c94c86d8a3.jpg
87 KB 765×990
3b4283d2d884fd6203713032cffc5b23b4941193f69c56f8705a331aedbbdd9a.png
311 KB 1220×1356
>Marie
Time to eat! Energy bars. A healthy breakfast comes with pleasant conversation, and so the girls have some casual chat.

<"Today I feel really independent, I don't know how to explain it..."

"Independent?" —she asks with a raised eyebrow and a smile— "well... you are haha. Makes sense." —she replies with a shrug— "I've always thought... so smart, independent... careful..." —counting off on her fingers, slowing her words, eyes widening slightly as she realizes she's randomly gushing, so she grins and doubles down— "kind... beautiful... I... uh... P-perfect." —a little embarrassed by her own directness, she shrinks into herself— "yeah..."

Better go with a chill vibe. ABBA, yeah, they're really good. Her mom loved them.

<It's a nickname, means Little girl.

"Huh... I see. That's probably why they said it that way, it just sounds better haha. Oh?" —light bulbs above her head—

Her voice is so sweet... And the lyrics are strong for someone who's hidden feeling bad for so long. For a moment, Marie feels like the song's lyrics are aimed right at her—maybe she'd feel that way even if she heard it on the radio.

"Ah... So that's what it was... Almost feels symbolic or something, huh? Haha."

<The song's about friendship and unconditional support. It's really beautiful...

"Yeah... I-it is..."

<Now I know your mom was a very sweet and sentimental person, just like you.

"Haha... Uh... D-does it run in the blood...?"

They nuzzle their little noses together. Exchange an Eskimo kiss. Marie sighs against her, filled with love.

"Ah, I love you so much..."

She says it in that voice—overflowing with overwhelming admiration. The kind that only comes out when the heart speaks to the one it loves most.

...

>>5687
Last night she had a bad dream. A horrible one, so vivid it felt too real. But now she can talk about it with a bit of humor. Her mom used to tell her that if she told her dreams, they wouldn't come true—so she'd always recount her nightmares about tornadoes, the things that terrified her most, while keeping quiet about the times she dreamed she won the lottery. Neither came true anyway, but she never stopped doing it. Marie was superstitious, and that wasn't much different from avoiding walking under ladders.

Maybe that's why she ended up telling about that awful nightmare. She needed to talk about it—the extra reassurance would just be a bonus, like this delicious energy bar with...

<Moth jelly— the pinker, the more nutritious.

"A—"

She freezes, mouth hanging open for a second. Recalculates for a few seconds... Looks at the bar, recalculates again...

"Agh... Whatever."

Shrugs and finally swallows. It was delicious anyway.

"I still like strawberry yogurt and vanilla stuff anyway."

Marie's of the opinion that it doesn't matter how they make a sweet as long as it tastes good... Though she prefers not to think about it while eating, which is why she saves the last little piece of energy bar for later.

<If it makes you feel better, I don't think that thing you saw was God.
"I know... That's what I thought." -she replies, shrugging- "I used to be a believer too, Luz" -she says half-jokingly, something that hasn't changed in a long time- "I know the devil can appear as the Lord... Maybe that's why I dreamed something like that... Yeah..."

<If you're feeling unwell, I can rub almond oil on your tummy.

"H-huh?" -it catches her slightly off guard- "well... Thanks—but, no. Not... I mean, if I were feeling bad, sure... But... I'm fine. Uh... Thanks." -she calms herself with one hand-

Luz is such a sweet doctor. Marie has wanted to ask her to teach her for a while now, but she's never found the right opportunity. At least not outside of timeskips.

...

Before leaving, they immortalize the day in a series of photos that show just how far they've come since that night at the concert. Marie changes her wallpaper—the one she's had since that evening, the one where she's kissing Luz's cheek—for today's photo, where she's kissing her lips. Then, they can finally depart.

They walk across this possibly infinite meadow normally. There's no need to say much this time... gazing at the sky... she feels happy. She's had this thought several times already, but it's still true...

(We should walk together like this more often...)

She considers saying it, but isn't sure if it's the right moment. I mean, walking in silence is nice too...

(R-right? We don't have to talk ALL the time, right, Lunita...?)

That's what she thinks, though now she's a bit nervous. So... she imagines a stop sign. When you see a stop sign, you stop, right? kek so Marie stops.

(Eeeee)

She can't help but think of Sans whenever she sees a stop sign. Autism level?

(Je...)

Luz lets go of her. Marie looks at her curiously; Luz pulls out the equivalent of Wikipedia they've been consulting from time to time during the day to check if there was any info about the place.

<It's a landmark!

"A mo-what?" -she sounds and looks confused-

<Huh...? What's up?

"Ah... Nothing..." -she looks at the spot and forces a smile before turning back to Luz- "well, lucky we didn't step on it. Je..."

<Marie, that's what explorers call points of interest

"...oh, right." Ashley does know that btw "I used to call them stop signs." -she jokes again- "haha... okok, seriously now... I didn't know, is that okay?" -she admits-

<Do you have space in your notebook? We need to record it to share with our fellow wanderers.

"Ah... Yeah, haven't used it in a while..." -Marie had abandoned the idea of keeping a diary long ago, though lately she's used it to write the song she made for Luz-

She takes out her notebook as requested, flipping quickly through pages until she reaches a blank one. The diary haven't finished it yet kek wasn't supposed to be read by anyone yet.

"This is gonna be cool. Like... we're basically documenting something new! And we're just two girls. Maybe we're the youngest ones to discover something new. Or well... You'd say it's mostly your doing." -Hilda would be green with envy-
<It even looks weird and distinctive enough to give it a name... How about "Marie's signal"?

"Oh—!" —she almost jumps— "Ojooo!" —she laughs with excessive autism knowledge— "It's good, but... Can I suggest another name?" —yes, she's gonna do it. She points at the sign with her palm— "Undertale Sans signal." —Marie laughs like an idiot, hilarious—

We had to check the place's safety. Those weird patches were more suspicious than a candy under a box propped up by a stick. Luz asks to confirm suspicions by throwing the little sword.

(There you go, Luna. Let me know if you feel anything strange.)

"Luna's up!"

She throws the sword diagonally upward, expecting it to land stuck in the ground like one of those giant darts. Then she calls it back, repeating a few times until Luz was one shoe away from considering it definitely normal.

<Let's not sit on the chair, it's too risky.

"That's... uh... kind of funny?" —but she wasn't laughing, so not funny-haha—

<Take a couple of photos if you can. Focus on the signal, it's definitely the most striking thing, don't you think?

"Jaja... It's just a sign, love..." —she blushes, still getting used to calling her that— "ja... Uh. I'll take them now."

She quickly pulls out her phone, switches to maximum quality mode to put those 12 megapixels to work, capturing some sharp, clear photos. Obviously in landscape.

"Snap. Perfect..." —she hands the phone to her partner— "Did they come out okay? Y-you can take some too. It's a good camera, but maybe I'm not the best photographer." —at least not yet... if that dream is anything to go by—

Photos taken, written records made. The walk resumes with a half-revealed secret, the stage now set for some lunatic to one day decide to sit beside the Undertale Sans signal and unveil it completely.

The walk remains as pleasant as ever, the only difference being more conversation along the way. Necessary to pass the time between all that silent green.

"Huh?" —she asks, surprised—

<It practically hasn't happened since I ended up here.

"Not even once?"

<Sometimes I even wonder if this is some kind of dream, and it sure feels like one.

"Tss..." —now she hopes not. But back when she arrived, she was begging to wake up—

<But... I'd never doubt this.

"Ja..." —it makes her happy— "yeah... D-don't doubt. I dream, so..." —discards the possibility, everyone must be different. And truthfully, Luz's situation is preferable to hers— "a-and they will be! A-at least... for me... Je." —she says, thinking about being together for years— mr. crab: what do we call it?

Luz was lost in thought.

"Luz?"

<Finding a nice place... Like this one, but without monsters at night. Maybe even founding a help house as its leader, and a greenhouse.

"Ja... Is that your dream?" —she asks— "It's really sweet... You're the big-hearted one." —takes the chance to return the compliment— "besides, it's quite possible, right? We just have to look."
<What would you like for the future, Marie?

"Ah... Me?" -fidgets- "uh..." -embarrassed, she forms a silly little smile and glances down shyly- "I-I think I already told you..." -she replies, twirling a strand of hair with her finger; she confessed everything during that moment of uncertainty in the rhombus building- "n-not much, I just... want to spend time with you, and... T-that's it. Be happy with you... I-I guess... I guess now I'm fine just being part of your future fantasy... heh..."

If she thinks about it, she's already living her biggest wish: being in a relationship with Luz. Once someone gets what they desire, they often don't know what to do next. Still, Marie does have something else hidden deep inside—something she also confessed back then: 'I want us to live happily forever.' Marie dreams of marriage, but saying that now feels a bit... excessive. Let alone adopting Momo kek

Eventually, they reach something. The exit! Where does it lead?

<I don't want to ruin the surprise, but I'm sure you'll love it. Come on!

"I hope it's not more poly-eggs! —Eh, wait for me!"

She laughs and hurries after her. Soon they find a slide leading into a pool—apparently their intended destination.

"Hm?"

<The notes specify that if we use the slide, the water shouldn't get us wet.

"So we're taking the slide then?"

<I should really get myself a laptop and a PDF version...
<But physical books have so much magic... Goodness.

"Heh..." -places her hand on Luz's shoulder- "it's fine like this... it's always better to have it in physical form." -she knows this as a manga lover-

After clearing up the classic physical vs digital debate, Luz prepares to go down the slide. They exchange one last glance, and a little wave goodbye.

<I'll see you on the other side.

"Already missing you! Hehe."

And she's gone. Water splashes, and she vanishes.

"...Wait, weren't we supposed to stay dry?"

Marie carefully stashes her phone. She looks around a bit—the loneliness feels different in a place like this. The area seems like a desert. Marie hasn't felt this alone since... uh... since level 1? Or zero... where at least she had Wilson. Marie tugs at her collar, visibly uncomfortable.

(No... I'm not alone...)

She glances at her sword.

(Luna's with me...)

That thought calms her a little. And unlike Wilson and Sasuke, Luna actually has some kind of life... in a way.

(B-but anyway... better keep moving.)

No reason to linger any longer. Marie sits down—and zoom!

"Waju- a-!"

She nearly chokes on her own words as she spots the beast. Her pupils shrink to pinpricks.

"Garsgsysb"—sounds of suddenly getting water in her mouth—

Then, she's submerged in water.

Kek don't worry about that, OP. It's not like I'm gonna time how long you take to send a turn or part of a turn. Relax, look how long I took to reply too. Hope you got to rest
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5696 es
a557f008a08c9ebd829efeb86c7ab4f6b2602e151757b36a2b33ed4742b99823.jpg
89 KB 850×1703
>>5684
>>5685
>Two girls overreacting
T-They're sentimental, okay?

>Don't basic partygoers look like that under her mantle anymore?
If you're talking about the yellow ones with the balloon, in the roleplay there's only one, the one that creates the other partygoers, who show very unique appearances to one another.

<Catherine Hills (Day 17. Hour 14)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 70/70
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 19/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4
-Luck: 3 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by CH. Pickles.
Liminal Dictionary
Pencil
Notebook

Level 10
You look through the lens.

Hilda: I'm big.

Opens her mouth, raises her hands, tilts her fingers like claws, and takes a step closer, now it looks like she's going to swallow you. You pull your face away from the lens, Hilda keeps her usual size. Everything is fine.

The Duke is huge even outside the telescope, but apparently harmless. Folds and folds of flesh under greasy elegant clothes. Hilda whispers to you assuring you that this is a man of nobility, and that people like that dress funny, with wigs and big dresses.

Hilda: Hildatherine... Cathilda... Hildash...

The words of the obese man stuck, because he tries to make rhythms with their names, but since he's not the most imaginative, he only comes up with joining them. Meanwhile, in the background, the objects in the piles stand out with greater definition. Maybe it's the drink from before, it sharpened your sight, and from the corner of your eye you could swear Hilda was spying on you. Surely wanting to know if that liking to watch her was true.

Hilda: Just looking?

She asked with her head tilted and a puffed cheek, as if wanting something more.

But the view is over! Hilda assures you that she ruined it, she raped it! and now she's leaving. Not towards the farm, not with the leader, but towards the levels where an entity like her has to be, not biting loved ones for various imprudences.

You cry. She cries. Maybe even the tooth fairy is crying. Hilda goes where she can't hurt anyone, and your first instinct -even after the pain she caused you- is to stop her in the only way you can think of.

Hilda: Ow!

You pull her hair hard. She turns around with her mouth open, more from surprise than from pain. You tackle her, and the little one falls harder onto the pillows. Hilda drops the sword from the shock and it bounces harmlessly away from you (the cushions are very firm and of excellent quality).

Not understanding, and still with a couple of tears in her eyes, your prey asks:

Hilda: W-What are you doing?

You stay on top, your hands feel the accelerated pulse of the blood under her wrists. Words are superfluous, only dominance remains. ATTACK!

But there's a problem...

Hilda is very resistant.
Although your fangs scratch the padded coat, what lies beneath resists like an indestructible peach. You try for a long while, and when you glance sideways, you catch her with a face of incomprehension and resignation. You bite down until your jaw goes numb, but the only thing left hurting are your teeth.

Hilda: Wait, better here.

With one hand she opens her coat and reveals her pale neck, a part so vulnerable only for you. Maybe you hesitate and regulate yourself to nibble, but at least you get her to close one eye and press her lips tight. The result repeats: Only your drool remains, highlighting a slight reddening plus the marks of your teeth that will soon disappear.

Hilda: What if you use that...?

You direct your attention where her gaze is lost, and you see the sword... Maybe it's too much, you just want to subdue her, not kill her, but a worrying little voice in the back of your gray cells warns you that Hilda was so surrendered to you that she would have let herself be cut if that would fix things.

Hilda: I didn't want to hurt you.

But you bit her!

Hilda: Yes...

She averts her gaze. That makes no sense, why would you damage something you didn't seek to damage?

Hilda: Sorry...

For biting you? Hilda frowns and shakes her head.

Hilda: For the other thing... The weird thing.

Weird? The brash one sighs and throws you an intense look.

Hilda: I... You... argrggh...

The word turns into a growl in her tongue, she shivers, and crimson spreads across her cheeks.

Hilda: I... amrgrgrhh...

Incomprehensible.

Hilda: I love you! Okay?!

...!

After her confession, Hilda clicks her tongue and frowns.

Hilda: It wasn't supposed to happen like that, damn it all, if it hadn't happened we'd be fine... Two leaders, nothing more. Love... ruins everything, I've seen it. Dark fell for Luz and stopped hanging out with me... She got so obsessed with Don and now she doesn't know what to do... It's a pain.

She sighs, her face doesn't take long to soften, her eyes seem glued to yours for a few seconds that feel eternal. She leans in without warning, and a soft peck usurps your lips.

Hilda: Sorry.

For loving you?

Hilda: No, for the bite. I swear it won't happen again.

She moves and sits down; you understand that since she fell, she could have pushed you away with a slight effort, but violence is something she doesn't want to use on you. So then...

She catches you!

Her arms wrap around you and her face rests on your non-bitten shoulder. She squeezes you tight, as if she never wants to let go. When she pulls away, Hilda is still sniffing a bit, and she wipes her nose with her forearm.

Hilda: I like hugging you.

In her eyes there was still conflict, not knowing what your reaction would be to her confession. Friendship feelings are one thing, but love is a totally different level.

There's a certain feeling in the air... But no, it's not the time yet. We need to harvest a little more, but stay ready just in case. Implying that they stay together, of course.
Ashley Scapolite-78c6ac No.5697 es
067c3a0d051684a74c536a87f5497c89b746083113b6b0cd8dc6981f5b117bf9.jpg
328 KB 430×1009
7117a31aa64e3df8ec5e994429e7d9964362d8e774c7d8c23ee11cac383ef00d.jpg
17 KB 500×300
024c5ac3ca966dcafd854bebc109376ac1cae80b19b4f2691a6bf745e7741f76.jpg
201 KB 827×1070
>>5696
>Ashley
She looks big...

Correction.

<I'm big.

Cat opens her little mouth in an 'ohh', her best friend's new size is imposing; she'd compare her to Godzilla if she knew more about that.

"Are you going to eat me?"

Catherine can make jokes too. Even basic ones like that. Not seeing the world through a telescope, she knows for sure: no. She's not Godzilla, just her beloved blue girl from always, with whom she can have memorable adventures or just go shopping, like now.

The shopkeeper is from the nobility, Hilda claims. Something adjacent, like a merchant in a free city of the Holy Empire, Cat supposes, because despite the name contradicting that idea, the duke seems to be a kind of vendor. Though he's smart, enough to see rhymes where Catherine doesn't... and Hilda less so.

<Hildatherine... Cathilda... Hildash...

Maybe the Hills would come up with something if she hadn't been silenced for a couple of minutes, after which she filled with energy and her cat vision transmuted into a treasure hunter's. Her iris oscillates in her eyes, looking at everything like a kid in a candy store; there were many interesting objects she could stash in her inventory, or at least use to play for a moment. More, out of the corner of her eye, the figure of Hilda walking very attentively toward her caught her attention.

Spying isn't right. It's supposed not to be done... but that doesn't stop Cat from doing it; on the contrary, she usually spies on people. But she knows it's wrong. Once she noticed her dad spying on her, he's not supposed to do that... but it didn't bother her; she does things she shouldn't. But he was careless, maybe the only time he was. And that made the girl not act as she would in solitude, without eyes on her.

She doesn't know where those thoughts were leading. It doesn't bother her that Hilda watches her or spies on her; she couldn't get mad at her like on that first day when it seemed like everything she did was to annoy her. Maybe she just thinks too much because of this drink, she's all hyped up. If she weren't so restrained, it would be even more noticeable, but the little bit she shows seems enough to feel like too much. Conscious, she forces herself to relax. And then, more normally, a surprise.

<Just watching?

"Huh?"

Hilda looks dissatisfied with what was said, but the albino can't quite figure out why.

"What do you mean?"

Later she would understand, after the first bloody bite of discord, that it cuts deep into her flesh and her being. The fangs prick against the heart, and the two girls end up in the antechamber of a painful goodbye, one that neither truly wants.

In minutes, a plan postponed by time and affection activates. A violent tug, a sudden tackle. Even clouded by tears, the little domesticated cat would use claws and teeth to prevent the rupture of something abstract, yet palpable like the affection she holds. She announces her intentions and bites down without hesitation, returning the sensation of being bitten...
Oh no.

"Rabble rabble."

She makes little dog noises, shaking her head. The fact that the bear meat is tough has never stopped a hungry wolf. She tries to soften it by tugging and shaking so hard that the tears that hadn't fallen yet jump from her eyes... but nothing works.

"Ah..."

She lets go of Hilda with a sigh, or in the middle of a sob. Her jaw is tired as if she'd been chewing a peanut nougat from last Christmas... And to make matters worse: her teeth hurt. With one hand on her lower jaw and one eye closed, she looks at Hilda, panting...

(It didn't work...)

She looked at Hilda, somewhat disappointed. But at herself... She was supposed to make it work... It was her plan since day one... Now she sees that if she had carried it out, she would have gotten beaten up. kek

<Wait, better here.

"..."

She lowers her gaze; she reveals her little neck. She raises her eyes again, unsure... conveying this with her downcast look. But if that's what she wants... she accepts. She lowers her head and approaches carefully where she is allowed; her nose is first, brushing that forbidden skin for anyone else. Her lips follow, opening in a caress that serves as the bait of an anglerfish. Slow due to doubt, yet gentle and soft as only her tender lips can be before revealing her fangs. The hesitation is there. Her hard teeth probe the skin, seeing biting as a possibility that costs them to carry out... Hilda can feel those teeth tremble as if she were about to shiver before the decision is forced by the girl's mind.

She bites them with a certain conscious care; she couldn't bear to bite too hard. The sweet bite, pricks and marks... She doesn't even dare to try stretching or softening. Even in the damage, she is as careful as she can... Upon separating... more of the same...

(...)

A failure.

<What if you use that...?

"What...?"

What? Well, the sword, which lay there, free to be taken. With eyes wide open, Catherine looked at her sharply.

"No."

She replied. Definitive and said in haste, struggling to simulate neutrality in this state... To be in control, you must be calm. But she can't. She doesn't like any of this.

<I didn't want to hurt you.

"What...?" -her little mouth opens slightly in the deepest confusion; that's not... weird. It's illogical, not only according to her mental structure, but... by basic logic. Biting causes pain.

"But... I... Bit you..." -she tries to string the letters together, one after another, marking some pauses in between due to the absurdity of the idea in such a case. She hadn't been so confused since her first day-

<Yes...
"No... I understand..." -and it shows- "but... Why... Why did you bite me, then...?" -that question still hung in the air, she just wanted a direct answer, because to her, biting is an attack-

<Sorry...

"...Why... The bite...?" -she was totally willing to forgive him-

<For the other thing... The weird stuff.

"Huh...?" -in case it wasn't clear yet, Catherine is confused- "No... I don't get it..."

<I... You... argrggh...

"¿...?" -her body lifts slightly and with some slowness, in the classic rise of curiosity-

<You... amrgrgrhh...

"What?"

<I love you! Okay?!

She jumps a little.

"...oh..."

Love... That... A moment ago they both agreed it was something "for idiots," and now they were victim and perpetrator of a definitive confession. Ashley is stunned. Her grip weakens until it's gone. Her face is that of a kid who can't close her mouth.

<It wasn't supposed to happen, fuck everything, if it hadn't happened we'd be fine... Two leaders, nothing more. Love... Ruins everything, I've seen it.

'Is that so?' Catherine wonders.

Clearly, she doesn't understand love. She hasn't experienced it, and her only two references are her father, who says it's useless to her, and now Hilda, who says it ruins everything.

But what is love? Baby don't hurt me, how do you know you love each other? And what do those eyes mean that look at her, which are only answered by the lost gaze of her counterpart, who is thinking so many things until a little kiss guides her...

"Ah..."

She blinks. Back to seeing Hilda, not what's beyond. Her little face, with eyebrows down, reflects how sensitive she feels now... but the kiss does her good, she likes her kisses. Since this morning she wanted one... she feels her tear ducts wanting to overflow again.

<Sorry.

"Why... about love...?"

<No, about the bite. I swear it won't happen again.

"It's okay..." -she tells him, not like yielding, not like it didn't matter, but like it's over, like he shouldn't worry- "I forgive you... I just want to forgive you..."

They pull her off, she doesn't resist. For a while now they've let her go free. They look at each other for half a second and hug her tight, Catherine overflows with emotion, her tears, again, couldn't be contained much longer.

"Ah..."

She returns the hug after a sob, lets her take refuge in her body, which she knows, like any cat's, can be a place of comfort.

"It's okay... It's... okay..."

She assures her. She doesn't have to feel bad anymore... She tries to convey calm. Everyone can cry, and everyone needs someone to comfort them once in a while. Her dad, Hilda... Even her.

And when the second one needed that someone, the last one would never be lacking.

They separate... Catherine faced with her normal little face... And listened again.
<I like hugging you.

"..."

So that's what she meant earlier... Catherine sniffs through her nose and dries her watery eyes with her arm... her little heart is going crazy... and it's all her fault.

"Eladia..."

She said as her forearm left her teary eyes. She reached for one of her hands and began to recount.

"I once read a romance book... and got bored."

It was clear that if Catherine, of all people, was going to respond, it wouldn't be with a conventional "me too."

"I never understood love... Although I had two suitors..."

There was a camp in the woods; certain boys took a liking to Catherine because she's a very beautiful and very smart girl. But nothing happened, even if they hung upside down from trees or jumped around like monkeys to impress her, there was never any romance.

Maybe the connection never existed. But there was never any hope that it would ever bloom.

"Dad told me they were a waste of time. That I shouldn't think about love, that it doesn't give me anything, that I should study..."

And those are bad news. Or so it seems, until Hilda gets pushed again, so that Catherine ends up on top. She likes this position; many of her important conversations have started or taken place this way.

"But... I don't care what Dad says." -she confessed- "You've tamed me." -she repeated- "I don't want you to leave. Because I like being by your side. And when you're not with me, I'm always waiting for your arrival... I distinguish your sounds from the others, your voice is my favorite..."

"I don't just like looking at you..." -she corrects herself. As the tamed one, she had to know that better than anyone...- "I like being with you... You make me happy..."

She moved closer. At kissing distance.

"And your pain hurts me..."

She gives a soft little kiss on the corner of her lips. Then another, centered in the middle, and finishes with one more, on the other corner of her lips. Three sweet healing little kisses, given with care, attending to the bump she got on her mouth today, which broke her heart to see.

Sniff

"Is that love, Eladia...?"

She asked, looking at her with a face that radiates from the very depths of her little heart, that's why she asks. She loves her. It goes beyond a word, in body and soul; Ashley is devoted to Eladia with the purest affection possible. Their names at that moment, even if they aren't, rhyme for her and sound good together at the same time.

And then she hugs her.

"Hug me."

If she likes that... She wants to be hugged. She doesn't want to leave, and if this is love, she wants to love her. Being like this, she wants nothing else, not Dad, not the woods. Just a life where she can keep listening to her favorite voice saying her name the way only she knows how.

Secundo... just let them be sweet bwaa Aldo, my previous post got cut off with a meta, but this one is going to get cut off too so basically I said I hope you rested well kek
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5698 es
0f2c31fcc026068aad03c070b5d4941d2ea8583608479fd1ae6d96591d55fc87.webp
29 KB 640×905
ae676cd8ef97cd6b12dd266b8d11186b9f74081de4027e5b5d4a6302b014bfb8.jpg
43 KB 612×408
14c9cb18ee6c3d81f035e4ce250dea150f28ed17a67eb27b012e0914958114f9.jpg
86 KB 689×900
>>5688
<Rando Roadagain (Day 23, 13:00)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 48/50
Hunger: 17/20 - Thirst: 18/20
- Strength: 7 + 7 Ghasto (+1 extra attack)
- Agility: 6 + 6 Ghasto
- Resistance: 6 + 10 Spine Armor (10 direct contact damage) + 2 Mask
- Luck: 4
Inventory
- Pockets 2/8
Almond Water Bottle (15/15)
Almond Water Bottle (15/15)

Level 10
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hcGjc_bmjEMCuno: Negotiate...?

The boy's gaze, that of a teenager in the throes of adolescence, rises and lowers over the transformed body of the demon cat, and even slips down his chin a bit of saliva. The companion notices the fixation immediately and gives him a strong slap on the head.

Cunoessee: Don't even think about it, Cuno! He'll give you a beating!

Cuno defends himself by saying he wasn't thinking of anything bad. The young guys decide to exchange information for benefit, and they're greedy, ending up keeping all the bread and Cuno's Rando mask, which he now wears. It's the red-haired boy himself who draws them a map on a napkin. The line they must follow starts at the exit of the town, and according to those two, ends at the farm where Don lives.

Cuno: And remember, Cuno didn't tell them anything. If Cuno finds out they sold him out, Cuno will find them and break their legs.

After hearing that warning, they set off and leave the town, using the map to guide them through the dirt paths. They leave behind Malta, now flanked by infinite walls of wheat. Obese animals so light they float - very similar to pigs - graze in the snowy fields, their movements are restless and they squeal at the slightest noise, as if an invisible tension affects them.

They reach a crossroads occupied by a single visitor.

???: S-Si la me-meta de veras es ta-tan importante para ustedes, y-yo tomaría un de-desvío.

A female voice, victim of intense shivering, warns them. It's a young girl with spongy purple hair, sitting on a bench by the side of the road. The girl, through slaps, removes the snow piles that had accumulated all over her body.

Marietta: De-decidí echarme u-una si-si-siesta... A dream within a dream. The i-idea so-sonaba revi-revitalizante. But this snow wasn't expecting... And to top it off, I saw a blo-bloque de hi-hielo walking more ade-ade- ¡ACHUUUUus!

She inhales deeply to sniff her mucus.

Marietta: Ahead... It was dangerous, and it seemed to hide a precious and important secret. Hmmmmm...

She nods and closes her eyes. It seems she'll fall asleep again in the elements.

Well, if you have the chance, you can try to make some of those images. I'm sure the anons would like them, if they're still alive. If you had come a thread earlier, maybe I could have used it for the opening of the new one. But for obvious reasons, this will be the final thread, kek
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5699 es
ead105a3a1cc77081ede85ef352138b1bec582f34cd6816fea11ada0186c3d27.jpg
188 KB 570×760
5643330ef0cfe1024b6ddc9029604d79e7810ca4500289013117142327145a9b.webp
15 KB 640×360
>>5694
>>5695
>I think it's Marie at the start, level 1?
Yep, imagine it was at some indeterminate point before the BNTG move, a time range that covers quite a while, but I see you leaned towards a point closer to the beginning. Also, a good reason would be that Hilda put something on the desk Marie was going to use.

<Marie Griffin (Day 52, 11:00)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 67/70
Hunger: 19/21 - Thirst: 19/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 9
-Resistance: 16 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 2/4
Super-Cellular (Off. Charge 14/16)
Joseph's Charger
-Pink Backpack 6/10
Pencil
Notebook
Almond water bottle (15/15)
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White cat headband

Level 92
Changes are natural and necessary, like the metamorphosis of butterflies. That's what Luz thinks, but there's a part that always makes her warn about the risks of changing through the labyrinths.

Luz: I was wondering... Especially when friends came to meet her to talk about their adventures. They always narrated fantastic and impossible scenarios... But the leader rejected all that to stay with us.

She curls up against you, joins her hands and rests her head on your thighs. Now your thighs are her pillow, you get an exclusive view of her reflective profile.

Luz: When I questioned her, she told me that many people get lost forever up there even if they return. I didn't get it, but then I met Amity.

Her gaze seeks you out of the corner of her eye.

Luz: Dark...

A necessary clarification, Dark in the end was just a nickname. Luz returns her gaze to the horizon and continues the chat, she supposes that talking about her ex shouldn't be a problem, it happened a long time ago and now your partner is you.

Luz: At the beginning she sent me anonymous notes and poems using crows... Weird, but also cute.

She blushes to say it, and throws you sporadic glances to always keep track of your reactions. At the first sign of horror she would change the subject.

Luz: We liked each other, one day he confessed to me and we went official, we went out, it was nice. The problem is that Amity was two years older than me, she had experience and the desire to explore the backrooms. She graduated from the little ones and went with the leader's cousin to learn what it was to survive in levels above 50.

She sighs.

Luz: She never stopped sending me letters and gifts... Until one day she returned. She was supposed to come to the city for supplies, but of course she took the opportunity to visit me...

Once again she seeks your gaze, but the consternation in her trembling and wet eyes is not for you, but for herself, and it's such a deep sorrow that goes beyond simple discomfort, her voice dries up when she says it, but she is willing to trust you.

Luz: Marie, it's not my intention that you hate her... A-And I... I forgave her a long time ago, and the last times we saw each other it was even pleasant, almost like the first days... I think she doesn't know that I still remember... The leader also thinks I forgot. Please, don't tell anyone.
The anecdote begins—or rather concludes—in the leader's office. Charmy was slicing a juicy ham steak Joe had sent her with a knife, when someone knocked on the door and Charmy told them to come in. Dark and Luz entered, hand in hand, smiling as if their union were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Dark: Luz has something to tell you...

The pale hand let go of the brunette. Luz stepped forward, not erasing her smile, and clarified that she would leave the little compasses. Charmy blinked rapidly and repeatedly, obviously unable to believe it. She grabbed the piece of ham, rolled it up, and brought it to her mouth, while eating, her brow remained furrowed.

Charmy: Rejected, Luz. You still have a lot to learn.

Luz: But leader, learning isn't necessary. Amity will take care of me the whole way and every day.

Charmy: What about your companions? I thought you were teaching Dora about first aid.

Luz: Dora is smart; she can learn without me.

Charmy: And have you already told Momo?

Luz: No, but I'm sure you can tell her.

Charmy: I see...

The leader took another slice of ham to her mouth. That action gave way to a heavy silence. Luz kept her good humor, and her big eyes didn't blink even once, as if her heart had abandoned the ability to doubt.

Dark: We'd better go; it's a long way up.

Amity reached for Luz's hand, but before their fingers could touch, Charmy threw the knife. The blade cut through the air, plunged into one side of Dark's black cloak, and stuck into the wooden door, where a button-eyed doll was also embedded. Dark stared at that with her mouth open and trembling hands.

Color left Luz's face, and like a puppet with its strings cut, she collapsed to her knees, head down, eyes still open but lost. Charmy quickly jumped out of her desk, advanced toward Dark, grabbed her by the neck, and forced her to bend down until she was at eye level.

The leader didn't shout, but rage boiled under every syllable.

Charmy: Try one of these tricks with my student again, and I'll personally drag your skinny ass to a pack of hounds. Is that clear?

Dark: L-leader, but I love Lu-

The sound of a hard slap cut off Amity's words. The young woman retreated in silence, and when the sound of the door closing was heard, Luz lost consciousness.

Luz ends the narration by saying that the Amity she fell in love with would never have been capable of doing that.

Luz: Or maybe she would... And the Backrooms just harvested her worst side...

With a faded smile, she hears your little joke about turning into a golden compass.

Luz: If you promise to always be a sweet and good girl, you can be whatever you want, Marie.

1/?
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5700 es
e921c36a19717b3b4323ffd3070b7fb75ec56493ef2c67043482033ea32d8bf9.jpg
88 KB 850×797
>>5699
>Or would it have been a general nuisance for the group?
The arc would be like: Oh no! The farm is now haunted and we must exorcise it! with moments ripped from It or The Shining to spice it up.

<Marie Griffin (Day 52, 11:00)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 67/70
Hunger: 19/21 - Thirst: 19/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 9
-Endurance: 16 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Super-Cellular (Off. Charge 14/16)
Joseph's Charger
Piece of jelly-filled bar (4/4)
-Pink backpack 6/10
Pencil
Notebook
Almond water bottle (15/15)
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White cat headband

Level 92
What belongs to Luz is yours, and what is yours is Luz's. They find it easy to share; that's what comes of having trust. She scratches your back and you hers, or in this case... you wash her.

She thanks you for the gesture and turns around. She doesn't need to move her hair aside, an advantage of having it short at neck length. The day couldn't be clearer, and your vision sharper thanks to your glasses and your interest. You place your hands on her shoulder blades; her cinnamon skin is wet from the water and warm from the girl's natural body temperature. That which your blindness deprived you of last night is now returned to you tenfold.

That slender waist.

Those curvy hips.

That well-toned ass, two firm cushions. Perhaps for your eyes it remained a delicious surprise, but your touch still tingles from the sweet memory of tracing and pressing against your beloved's body.

Luz: Marie?

She looks up at you over her shoulder with an arched eyebrow. She warns that if you take too long you'll catch a cold. It's bad to be so horny, Griffin! your conscience screams at you.

...

Once you start with the compliments, you can't stop. Maybe it's the sweet aftertaste of the moth jelly, but you feel so lucky and full of pleasant sensations that you wished you had a dictionary of compliments.

Luz: I'm not perfect.

She brings a napkin to your lips.

Luz: I swear, I'm not.

She brushes away some crumbs that got stuck at the corner of your mouth.

Luz: And you better know it now, because I don't want to surprise you for the worse.

She gives you a little bit.

Luz: I'm very bossy, and a bit intense with order. One day you'll want to do something fun, and I'll tell you... No, Marie, no.

Improbable, but it could happen. Maybe you want to stay up until 3 AM playing Minecraft and watching anime, and Luz will remind you that that's not healthy and that you should go to sleep. Even with that...

You love her.

Luz: I love you.

You don't need to understand Spanish to know what it means.

...

To be or not to be silent? That's the dilemma that hits you as you walk through the hills hand in hand with your girlfriend.

Lunita: No overexertion. She said that... Do you think she was lying? The one on the other side lied a lot.

Anti-Luz...

Now her body is Luz's, though something curious happened: the scars disappeared. The soul molds the body, were Moon's words. Even after the traumatic experience, the Colombian remained in good spirits.
STOP.

The signal might be a warning from fate to stop over-analyzing every single one of your steps. But you interpret it as a wink that triggers your maximum autism.

Luz: Okay, now you know about the milestones. This trip is being very educational.

She smiles and nods to herself; your learning satisfies her. She returns to the book. In your ex-diary, you write down what she dictates. You include the number of steps taken since the last zone with houses. Luz's walkie-talkie has an accessory installed that counts them, and she consults it before sharing the measurement. She also pulls out a pair of binoculars to scout the surroundings. Then, she retrieves a silver teaspoon and a cylindrical container from the backpack, collecting a sample of soil and grass.

Luz: It's for the Compasses. Surely more than one will want to come and verify our discovery in person.

It's more her discovery, you clarify. Luz sighs in your direction and shakes her head.

Luz: Honey (¡..!), don't start... It bothers me that you displace yourself like that. You are useful.

Are you?

Luz: See, I brought my staff?

No...

Luz: Then, who is better prepared to defend us if something happens?

There are only two candidates; the answer is obvious.

Luz: Exactly. We aren't just strolling; we are exploring... You are already a proper wanderer.

A proper wanderer who laughs like a maniac when Luz agrees to put the name you mentioned. Sans undertale. Only a few will understand, or many, depending on how many teenagers of your age fall into Level 0.

You throw the sword. You call it. The hilt hits your chest. Lunita apologizes. You throw the sword. You call it. You barely manage to catch it, leaving your fingers sore. You are improving. Luz concludes the checks: the grass is harmless, the signal is striking. She packs her instruments, slings the backpack over her shoulder, and comes over to you to glance at the photos.

Luz: You have a good eye; you should pursue this.

The foreshadowing makes you nervous.

Your dream hasn't changed yet; it wants to be happy with the person you love most. Your girl's face lights up with a new blush; your attitude and words won her over. She stops, faces you with that passionate glow you recognized last night in the darkness, and rewards you with another long kiss. The grass receives them; they remain there, lying down, tasting each other with intertwined hands. Kissing is a mechanically simple act, but it fulfills the urgency of closeness that intoxicates them. You longed for her touch; everything else lost importance... Until a shift in the sky's tone to a more orange hue reminds them they are still out in the open.

Luz pulls her face away from yours, but her gaze remains dazzled by you. She helps you up and adjusts your clothes. Together, you head toward the house with the slide that will take you out of the level.

Luz: Damn, I have to be less horny...

You heard her murmur.

2/3
Rangato Goshenite-d79de4 No.5701 es
dd21341f8c4e5efee98ab458462dba1bea2747d66e6fe692da921f5f08513dd0.gif
1.77 MB 498×371
88b7e22f1dea8ca7b77d20a7852da6d3de5f43623d01f3e7fb958968c5a79c7b.jpg
52 KB 864×864
20dc74192ff2e015f6595deec7e286a67ff6bdaa13b57ec98dd7366b19001a46.jpg
209 KB 850×1204
>>5698
Under the mask of Rando there was... ¡¿Another mask!? It seems they really don't want him to be seen Because it would be weird in the pics although he didn't have any problems with the cold as long as it was hidden... Outside of that, Ghasto keeps an impassive face upon seeing that his master's appearance has an effect on both the old and the young, but decides to ignore it and let it be.

Once the map was drawn and the breads were handed over, they head to the place indicated. They have a slight suspicion they might be being scammed but they have nothing else. Both see the girl again, but something important is missing... Don...

[Where is Don?]

[Are you... alone...?]

Strange, the first to ask is the fake Nyarla, but upon noticing the girl is dying of cold even with all her winter clothes on, eight of her twelve hearts soften and she sighs resignedly...

[This feels too familiar...]

They share some warmth, Nyarla also doesn't like the cold, although anyone would think both of them would tolerate it better given her superior body fat... letting that fleeting thought pass, her tail, previously in the form of a blackened wire, changes to a fluffy texture and grows in size like a jumbo teddy bear.

[There... better? You carry her if you're so kind...]

Rando points at himself, incredulous.

[Is there someone else here? Of course, I mean you, I can't do everything alone...]

Lie, yes he can, but he just doesn't feel like it... The girl, having fallen unconscious or not, is carried from the bench by Rando regardless of her weight because his muscles aren't for show, and ends up wrapped in the new fluffy fur of Ghasto like a blanket, but of a cat instead of a tiger.

[Can you still talk...? I need you to explain what this "goal" you were talking about is...]

[Secrets... don't matter... You were accompanied... by a boy... What happened to him...?]

The girl gives her version, demonstrating her condition which should already be improving. They could go, of course they could, but they have a bad feeling just like with Mrs. Buttercup, they feel that if they leave without more, the so-called Don would be history.

[Do you want to enter...? If it's... very dangerous... we go and leave it at that...]

[Why are you asking me? I'm the one following you, not the other way around, right? But since you mentioned it, making sure shouldn't be a problem...]

They take the girl with them... The girl? They were asked her name at some point or told it, but neither of them remembers anything.

[Dulzura, resist the whispers of Morpheo for a little longer... My name is Ghasto, a benevolent servant, the mass of muscles is...]

[Rando... I think... that's how I'm called...]

[That's the same... Could you tell us your name? Calling you strange girl might not be the best option for forming habits and/or bonds with you.]

They walk forward, where they believe Don is with her, they don't know if there's a safe place for her as a possible entity, and taking her to Buttercup is out of the question... So it's up to them to carry her until their strength runs out.

That's why I asked if you wanted any specific one, I've already made a few. And don't worry about that, when I gained this ability, this thread hadn't been created yet kuek... And what do you say? After Backrooms it was Backrooms 2, even more Backrooms than ever, or am I wrong? :^)
Although I liked the Frontrooms, if it's not too much to ask, have the four of them end up at my monkey's bar there kek
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5702 es
07805b95130f6b999903aba2929834c63b20abea73a702518ed3ef0314ab8164.png
512 KB 1366×642
c32298c5aab6a31a3e91cb64028df326513f8b77c0553769e56fdca059355819.png
991 KB 1297×644
d5f6c66b94e7bc863a78c59b12c7816870a7c1083b6dc559421e93d0fdd98d86.png
831 KB 1297×644
>>5700
<Marie Griffin (Day 52, 11:00)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 67/70
Hunger: 19/21 - Thirst 19/21
- Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
- Agility: 9
- Resistance: 16 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
- Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Super-Cellphone (On. Charge 13/16)
Joseph's Charger
Piece of jelly-filled bar (4/4)
-Pink Backpack 6/10
Pencil
Notebook
Almond Water Bottle (15/15)
Smiled Fluid
Toothbrush
White Cat Headband

Level 37
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AkgGNIPqvEwThe water surrounds you, squeezes you, confuses your sense of up and down... But without touching you. As a finale, it spits you up and immediately you fall face-first onto a hard, smooth surface (-10 HP). You're hurting and blind. Lunita warns you that the glasses ended up a meter and a half in front of you. You crawl, extend your hand, carefully grab the object, and put it on only to discover you still can't see.

Blind, you're truly blind now! The penance of sinners!

Lunita: S-Something's just dark.

Fumbling, you take out your cellphone and turn on the flashlight.

You gain 1 experience point!

Deep shadows, walls of white ceramic where the grime stands out, a solitary pool to your right where two plastic balls float, one green, one purple. There's an opening fifteen meters ahead, and another dozen on the right wall. The dimness is saturated, like loaded with anomalous gases.

You don't see Luz anywhere. They must have fallen into different areas. You need to explore as in old times, a return to the beginning... Before the end.

You advance. Your steps produce echoes, and the splashes of the puddles are even louder, now the water is soaking you. You illuminate your path to the next corridor, there's a plastic chair without an occupant (Good), and narrow, grid-like tunnels on the walls where you'd have to crawl if you decided to slither through any of them.

Lunita: Marie, now that we're alone, I wanted to know... Are you okay...? Does it hurt?

There's sincere concern. But aside from falling into this level, and the nightmare, you don't remember anything bad happening to you.

Lunita: I thought about going to help you, but you didn't call me, so I stayed quiet in the corner... Did I do wrong?

When was that?

Lunita: That night of many, I saw Luz bothering you.

Luz wasn't bothering you, she was... Okay, no need to go into details, but the point is that it was mutual. Lunita insists she doesn't understand, and in her hesitation maybe there's a clue to a bad experience. But the closest to learning the background of what Lunita has suffered, perhaps it's Catherine.

You arrive at the next corridor. The image is identical, only reversed, with the plastic chair attached to the ceiling. The dirty water drips in thin streams and drips that you have to avoid, and in the process, a screech startles you. You look around everywhere, ready for problems, until you notice the sound comes from your cellphone.

Luz (Intercom): Pszzzt... Luz to Marie. Luz to Marie... Pszzt... Are you there? Change.

Wait for you to respond.

Luz (Intercom): What a bad luck, we ended up in different places- Pszzzt There's interference, but the signal will improve as we get closer. Keep going- Pszzzt Take care of the battery and don't go into the dark part- Pszzzzzzzt...

You lost the signal. Do you continue down the corridor, or go back? You can also crawl through one of the holes in the wall, although it would be disgusting.

3/3

You can roll 1d50 to get more events.
Palacios Grandidierite-d49355 No.5703 es
>>5693

A hour of searching for shit for not keeping quiet the head had to eat. It would have been better for him to stay quiet instead of acting like a fool, because that hour is another lost hour of not getting out of here. Talking about losing things too, he ends up without a bag because of the Nintendos. It's done, it's definite if he leaves he's going to move to the countryside because it's really rotten to have to eat so much crap because of anything with a screen.

"If you don't see him then it doesn't matter that you're wearing the mask, but you know what you'll know."

That the mask is necessary is necessary, but from there to needing to wear it is a separate matter. Assume that the beholder is guided by essence, smell, or whatever the creature feels, because obviously not by sight. Still, he's not going to argue about this nonsense with whoever has been here much longer than him. They could tell him that the beast still sees with its soul eye or some crap like that and he'd believe it, so instead of trying to find logic in the matter he decides to shut his mouth and shrug.

"It's still better than being here."

Distrust a bit before getting on with Hilda, not because of her but because of what comes next. Separating always makes everything start going to hell and that's true both in horror movies and in Scooby Doo, as in real life. His nose, which isn't a dog's, is telling him that, making him and Hilda into Scooby and Shaggy. So they're the ones who are going to find the ghost, although unlike these ones running away isn't an option. Just for that he already trusts getting on more than staying.

"Brrrooouuugh... I must be getting something for e- ! Climate...

Treating him like a couch he sits down as comfortably as he can on the beholder. He doesn't bother to grab something or even support himself like people do. Instead he looks for a way to lie down as if to sleep, normal that he ends up falling at the first opportunity. Maybe that was it, or maybe it was the chill that ran down his whole body. At this time of the game was he going to get sick?

"Hey, you know that I think I was here..."

It's hard for him, but little by little he starts to figure things out. He had a strong feeling of having been here, what he doesn't remember is when or why. After a little while he gets the light bulb and starts getting flashes of the place, yes, yes, he was here. Along with the radio station it must be one of the places where he spent the most time standing still. Or maybe not, time here is a mess that's not worth trying to figure out. The point is, just when he finishes remembering he gets a sample of why he preferred not to remember this place.

"Welcome the eggs that for eggs the ones that have me swollen. It can't be that after all the crap I went through they still bother here. Go and put your metaphors up your ass."

He doesn't doubt, as soon as he sees the opportunity he grabs the can they threw him and throws it with all the anger in the world at the fat guy. He doesn't quite know if it's the same one who locked him up or not, what he does know is that they have no desire to receive them. Between the gas and the weapons that's clear enough, meaning he's going to have to shit himself with the punches.

"And? Hey dear! Didn't you want answers? Here they are the ones that have them. Take them out of the pineapples, but the ones that are already!"

The one who wasn't so sure was Hilda seeing that he didn't move a single hair yet. She has 0 idea why she decided to stay to listen when she should have been the first to go forward. What she does know is that he didn't intend to do the same, because before throwing himself forward he tells her to react. The anger he carried for reuniting with the yellow ones made him have a very tunnel vision because the chicken forgot that he was surrounded and that the others have weapons. As if it mattered, even knowing that he would have sucked up 3/4 of the same thing and would have launched himself just like he's doing now.

1d50 = 30 1d50 = 30
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5704 es
19c8fcddda650e330c16861f8f62ab6788aa91a911a67f7873efb7721342a69d.webp
9 KB 270×270
>>5697
<Catherine Hills (Day 17. Hour 16)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 68/70
Hunger: 16/20 - Thirst: 17/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4
-Luck: 3 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by CH. Pickles.
Liminal Dictionary
Pencil
Notebook

Level 10
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIUT8UjKAKUThe second attempt was already doomed from its conception. You simply weren't capable, but you tried; your teeth and lips massaged that neck, and you felt her shudder and let out a stifled gasp, followed by a giggle as the constant brushing of your nose and lashes tickled her...

Total failure.

But contrary to your pessimistic prediction, what follows are confessions and clarifications. Hilda opens her coat and carefully pulls up her flannel. With one finger, she points to the exact spot where a row of canine teeth marks stand out. In the little-compasses, there's a tradition where, during the first fighting training, Doggo bites you, and it's the sign or mark that you now belong to the family.

Hilda: All the littles have one...

Except you, because Charmy hasn't had time to organize a training fight with the dog for you. But it's not just that that sinks Hilda's heart into turbulence; what worries her most is loving you. But what is love...? Hilda shakes her head; none of them seem to have it clear. They'll have to learn; Hilda looks ready.

Hilda: Oh, yeah? And who were they...?

When asking, Hilda's eyes become slits like Momo's. Something tells you she doesn't like your two suitors; they could be in danger. The braggart's gaze widens entirely as you recount your father's lesson... Is it all over then...? No, you have your own agenda.

Hilda: !...!

You're on top. You adore that position: You have an exclusive view of her flushed face, with a direct line to her kisses; you feel her heat against her abdomen and between your thighs, and if you plant your palms, it's easy to feel the rhythm of her heart. All advantages.

"Is that love, Eladia...?

The answer is the hug she gives you before you can ask for it. She envelops you like the walls of a strong castle, made to care for and protect you, because you are her treasure. You've already forgiven her, but she asks for forgiveness again without letting go, and this time she actually allows herself to use your real name...

Hilda: Ashley...

The particular accent is still there. Maybe others will learn your name over time, but Hilda's pronunciation will remain unique and yours.

Data of null importance: There was an Argentine cartoon called Los Peques that I liked a lot. It has nothing to do with the RP, but I remembered it and wanted to share it, kek
...

Dora: Like new! Yupiii!

She raises her arms in celebration. With the bandage wrapped tightly around your shoulder, you'd struggle to imitate her.

You shift while sitting on the mattress. Your eyes drift toward the bedroom door; Hilda stands with arms crossed, back leaning against the frame. Her gaze leaves the hallway to find you again, then drops to your bandages, her expression souring into a spark of conflict. You told her all the bad stuff was behind you, but it wasn't easy for the blue one to forget that, in one of her impulses, she hurt you.

The way back wasn't pretty. Blood started staining you, and one of the Peques saw you coming down from the attic. News flies fast; they had the bad luck that Charmy was home, and—after Dora treated you to prevent infection—they had to face the leader in her office.

A desk, two stools, and a dwarf eating oranges. The leader doesn't interrogate them immediately; for a couple of minutes, she just savors her citrus fruits while her deep gaze shifts from one to the other. Hilda bites her lip and keeps shifting her knees in and out.

Charmy: Who'll tell me what happened?

The braggart begins; her pauses are long. She's careful because she doesn't want to get punished.

Hilda: I fell... onto Cat... By accident.

Charmy: You fell onto Cat...? With your mouth open?

Hilda nods without lifting her eyes from the floor.

The leader knows she's lying and watches you, waiting for your version. But there's more to it.

Charmy: It's not just the bite; you also went up to the attic without permission. What I still don't see is whether it was both of your ideas or just Hilda's.

Hilda: It was mine!

The braggart frowns and grips the front of the stool with both hands. She leans forward as she shouts. She doesn't want to be punished, but even less so that you get punished.

Hilda: I wanted to go up and I dragged her with me.

Charmy: And you bit her.

Hilda: Yes—No! I-I fell with my mouth open.

Silence. Charmy asks Hilda to leave them alone for a moment. Hilda nods, climbs off the stool, and you see her run an arm across her forehead in a gesture of relief. She seems to believe the excuse worked.

Hilda: I'll wait for you outside, Cat.

The door closes. You're left alone with the leader; she plants her gaze on you.

Charmy: Where did you get that flower? Was it the Duke? You didn't sign any deal with him, right?

She questions while looking at your hair.

Hilda: I don't think Hilda is threatening you, but something's going on here that I'm struggling to understand. Not understanding something happening under the roof of my own house annoys me. It's also the first time Hilda has tried to lie to you so shamelessly... What exactly happened, Catherine?
Ashley/Catherine Scapolite-78c6ac No.5705 es
19e67f22b70f7d16718b331ff9abfc93161163b7e50707fbd250565f937fc660.jpg
62 KB 800×691
>>5704
This time, Ashley's part first
>Ashley
If she were a wolf, she could bite even at half power and still assert dominance among the other pack members.

But she's not a wolf, just a cute little girl; her jaw and teeth aren't up to the task. For the second time, she fails. But that loses importance once words and the heart come into play.

<All the little ones have a...

The example is her, and the confirmation is a half-distance memory. That night, where everyone showed their scars, meant more than Catherine could have guessed. They were marks indicating that she does not belong today.

"Ah..."

In two letters, she made it known that she seemed to understand.

And that bothered her a little.

In that basic sound, the feeling was brewing that maybe if she knew, if she were warned, if she didn't feel attacked... maybe things wouldn't have come to tears.

Communication is important, but it's so difficult that Ashley didn't know how to proceed. More confessing or not confessing this is small when, confirming that relationships are complicated, from this, so strange, love is born.

Questions fill her little head and her heart. And she doesn't have the answers, nor does the one who swore her this mysterious concept called love. Which in books bores with intricate words, and in her experience interested her less than last month's horoscope.

<Oh, yeah? And who were they...?

"They weren't important."

More to protect them or avoid the question, she does it for flow. She has a lot to say and didn't want to get stuck at the starting line... that it's true is a grateful plus. Especially if she noticed Hilda was really interested in the topic, she would pause her explanation about her little experience with love and tell her.

"Tim. The first one was named Tim. My dad sold his pills to his dad." -...doesn't know what else to tell- "he had red hair... He wanted to impress me. He showed me a TV once. And he hung from trees so I could see him." -not impressive, she was better at climbing- "the other... I think his name was... Mickey...?" -doesn't know, maybe it was a nickname- "He always gave me things..." -every time they went to camp for some reason- "He gave me a chocolate. And a flower. And a bracelet." -And what happened to that bracelet? Because she doesn't wear it- "I gave it to Big Foot and he ate it." -that generates more questions than it solves- "Dad hated both of them. He wouldn't let me get close to them."

In case there was any doubt about her little relationship with that pair. Maybe they could have achieved something with Catherine if her dad weren't such a decisive factor. She didn't get close to them, and if they got close to her, she had to be sharp as a scalpel. The opportunities were dead before they were even born. And Hilda can feel that same danger...
But Ashley had always been a free spirit. And those old lessons weren't going to separate her from what made her feel good. From herself, from her favorite voice, from her comfortable arms... from... what might be love.

< Ashley...

"It's okay..." -she calmed her down again, settling beside her little neck- "so..." -her whisper was a caress in the ear- "I think... I love you..." You forgive a friend but I love you

Well in the roleplay the little ones are something, so it can be said that it's very distantly related kek I know her but I never got to see her. Just some giggly clips that popped up on my TikTok. When I was very little, I had a cousin who called me "little one" because of that series kek

Later, they finished bandaging her wound. The paramedic celebrated, the patient poked the area with her fingers, slowly. They seemed fine, steady. For better or worse, she couldn't move the arm much. Though she hadn't planned to do so anyway.

"Thanks..." -she replied, not having too much regard for it isn't an excuse not to be polite-

She got down at the first opportunity. Without exchanging more words, she headed for the door with eyes and legs, reuniting with Hilda. Unlike Dora, she didn't look happy about the bandages wrapping her shoulder now.

"Are you okay?" -she checked, tilting her head like a cute kitten. She didn't want her sad-

Maybe the way back made her worry too much?

> Ashley (on the way back)
As they walked, she kept one eye closed due to the discomfort. At one point, she stopped completely.

"Wait..."

She asked, clutching her shoulder.

"It... Hurts a bit... I'll take it off..."

The thick coat she had put back on was making direct contact with her wound. As she moved, she felt every small shift of the fabric, since the gap had turned into a hypersensitive zone. She couldn't take it anymore, she unzipped and opened her little coat, whose inside was stained with blood. Ashley held it up in front of her to see exactly that.

"Ah..."

She folded the coat and tucked it under her arm. She looked at Hilda.

"It's nothing."

She said, not wanting her to worry either. Although feeling the bloodstain grow was making her uncomfortable. She brought her hand to the area to cover it with her fingers, hoping that might reduce the bleeding.

"Let's go."

Maybe crossing the door will be the most painful... kek

...

It wasn't that bad... Better than some winter out in the open... Or the time she broke her little arm. It wasn't a very serious wound. But well... they saw it. And the gossip reached the ears of the authorities, who summoned them for a trial.

The waiting room before that wasn't very remarkable. Charmy was eating, and the girls didn't interrupt, after a moment of being in the same place, Catherine's gaze began to wander around the place looking for something more interesting... ending on the restless girl next to her.
(??)

She considered imitating her for a moment, but then they required her attention.

<Who will tell me what happened?

Catherine found herself with the leader again, and without oranges. It wouldn't bother her to start it herself... but Hilda beat her to it.

<I fell... On Cat... Accidentally.

"..." -Cat gives her a look, transmits nothing with her face, she's good at keeping neutrality... but that doesn't sound very believable-

Hilda doubles down on such an excuse. And when the albino locks eyes with Charmy, she seems to demand an answer with her gaze.

"Yes, it's true."

She says, serious, neutral. No emotion, she doesn't even believe it herself, she suspects Charmy doesn't either. But it's clear which side she's on.

<It's not just the bite, they also went up to the attic without permission. What I still don't see is whether it was both of their idea or just Hilda's.

She was about to distribute the blame, but she didn't even have a second to do it before Hilda almost jumped off the small piece of furniture, taking all the blame for both of them.

<It was mine!

"..." -she's a little surprised, losing her stoicism-

<I felt like going up and I dragged her with me.

"..."

<I-I fell with my mouth open.

Cat stayed on the sidelines. That... was kind of her, but it still isn't entirely believable. The albino appreciates the intention in what they give the other freedom.

<I'll wait for you outside, Cat.

She said goodbye to her with a small nod. And she stayed with Charmy, now finally imitating Hilda, wiggling her little legs.

"Can I go now?" -she knows she can't-

<Where did you get that flower?

"Why do you ask?"

<Was it the duke? They didn't sign any deal with him, right?

"No."

She answers the double question with a total denial. Whether it's to the first or second question isn't clear... And here came the problem. That she spends most of her time with Hilda, whom she likes, perhaps makes some forget how indifferent she is to everyone else.

<I don't think Hilda is threatening you

"She isn't." -she interrupts, stomping until she shreds the slightest possibility of thinking such a thing-

<Something is happening here that I'm struggling to understand, and not understanding an issue that happens under the roof of my own house disgusts me.

"..." -nothing, no response-

<It's also the first time Hilda has tried to lie to me so shamelessly... Exactly what happened, Catherine?

"Why are you asking me?" -she asks without changing her expressionless little face- "I can lie to you. I'm good at lying, my dad taught me. You'd never know."

If she's putting on all this circus, it must be for something.

"If I tell you the truth... I want you not to punish her."

She's probably not in a position to negotiate, but she tries. After all, they summoned her as a victim or something like that.
Otherwise, she wouldn't have spoken. If Charmy said a 'noooo', Catherine would repeat: 'Can I go now?'

If they reached an agreement, she'd be willing to answer.

"..." -thinks about where to start- "she bit me, yes." -that was obvious- "it wasn't on purpose..." -repeats what she told her- "she didn't want to hurt me... I think I understand..." -touches her shoulder- "she wanted me to belong here..." -maybe Charmy can understand, after all she's the one with this tradition- "I got a little scared..." -her eyebrows lower slightly in faint sadness from the memories- "but only because I didn't know it was for that..." -lifts her gaze, showing determination, while hopping onto the stool in one jump- "But I'm not angry at her! I don't want you to punish her. I've already forgiven her." -says, placing her two coins on the table before sitting back down-

"..." -calms down a bit, knows she has to- "...also... later I bit her too, twice." -makes a two with her fingers. That balances things out, right?

The flower.

"Yes... it was that merchant." -confirms- "It bothers me a little, but Hilda gave it to me..." -again, it's like having an ice cube in the head- "I like it." -that's true-

The important thing was whether they made a contract with him.

"No." -not at all- "we paid him with teeth." -[Yours?]- "From someone...?"

The attic.

"..." -doesn't know if she wants to answer that- "..." -looks away-

They'd have to call her attention first, only then would she turn back to Charmy, but not look directly at her. As if wanting to evade this.

"...yes... that's true, it was her idea." -and that's why... she didn't want the truth to be simply a yes this time. But after that, she looked at her seriously- "But she didn't drag me. That's a lie." -she's firm- "I went alone because I wanted to. I'm like a cat." -does what she wants-

And that's all.

"...you promised. Now you can't punish her." -reminds her- "I trust you..." -adds- "...please."

There are still things to discuss. But to get to those other topics, they still have to wrap this up.

>>5688
>Can you do it again?
Cy, I wanted to do it before but my post kept cutting off and I didn't want to make a post just about meta, I think OPecito is watching that so we don't go over threads kek

Maverick: Cody from Final Fight, then they added him to Street Fighter
Marcos: Masao Inaba (real name Mark) from Persona 1 -black version- also works for Paimon from Genshin
Irene: Mikoto Urabe from Mysterious Girlfriend X

The other OPs got them all right.

There are others we didn't mention: Aurora (Tsukasa Kudamaki from Touhou), my monkey Ashley (Aisling from Book of Kells), and Donny (The Batter from OFF or OMORI from OMORI). These aren't in the thread images.
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5706 es
58c9d5c883b8981c427f1f47f9d5e52d4c9c0852025af1bf401d6cedaab7b400.jpg
806 KB 800×1130
1ec946a3b730d36395edfe549c82f25cbd3c7fc6200b82195eef2be80b7c7a03.webp
125 KB 1920×1080
0bb5613ecaf7bfff37296cdec05225c74c004191506fcb25fbc7e1f55e371701.webp
70 KB 640×888
>>5701
<Rando Roadagain (Day 23, 14:00)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 47/50
Hunger: 16/20 - Thirst: 17/20
- Strength: 7 + 7 Ghasto (+1 extra attack)
- Agility: 6 + 6 Ghasto
- Resistance: 6 + 10 Spine Armor (10 direct contact damage)
- Luck: 4
Inventory
- Pockets 2/8
Almond Water Bottle (15/15)
Almond Water Bottle (15/15)

Level 10
A second mask, identical to the previous one but as thin and fragile as a cardboard plate. It's your backup, it serves to maintain your anonymity but it's far from providing the protection of the mask you gave to Cuno.

Marietta: Don? I don't know what you're talking about... I've been traveling for days alone, and I just arrived. I expected a nicer climate, but everything is getting worse too quickly.

She confesses without opening her eyes. Ghasto wraps her with his tail while you carry her, she's quite heavy, you can tell she has several extra kilograms, which is why your hands mold to the skin under the thick clothes. The stranger gladly accepts the unexpected warmth, but she moves a bit restlessly and grumbles.

Marietta: Are you kidnapping me...?

You ask about the goal.

Marietta: The goal is the destination for each one. Toward there is where they are heading, right? I notice you're in a hurry... But you don't look very prepared, I bet you've wasted a lot of time eating sweets and sleeping.

The girl insists she wasn't with any young man, and in fact her last companion was a woman. A lovely girl named Irene.

Marietta: She assured me that I could be very heroic, but on the way here I ate two people... I'm the worst burps

Her deep drowsiness is surely due to said overeating. Ghasto doesn't notice she's lying. If he recalls, the cat remembers that Don's companion was very similar to himself, while the girl that Rando carries looks more discreet, with a more subdued sexuality, as if she forced herself to contain her anomalous nature.

They take the girl. She doesn't resist for now, she's too comfortable, but she reminds them that if they keep going ahead they will surely die. Her name is Marietta.

They continue through the wheat field. The cold intensifies and shakes the wheat strands. Rando's eyelashes stick to his cheeks, and he has to ask Ghasto for help to blink. Ahead, the fields seem to disappear in all directions.

They find a farm. According to Cuno's map, this isn't Don's house, but one of the many, and it makes sense because it's abandoned, with the lights off and the stable open and empty. The owners surely packed up and fled the level.

The ground shakes. A mountain moves in the distance, following exactly the path they must take. Its eyes glow a pale blue, and the bulges that are its back drag a perpetual cloud of frost. Ghasto starts to freeze his tail just by looking at it, and that's even though it's far away.

...

>Backrooms sifue backrooms 2, más backrooms que nunca
Kek, nah, this will be my last participation as Opé. Although I have ideas for roles, the time isn't what it used to be. But I'll continue participating as a player.
Marisa Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5707 es
>>5689
>There's a new sheriff in town! And his name is Bill!

"Who?" Knowing his name doesn't make him any less unknown.

>I'm not someone, I'm a weapon.

"So if I leave you behind I'm going to be unarmed." Too late to back out of her decision, she's already too high up on the display case, if she jumps off she's definitely going to twist both ankles, as per how physics and her luck work in that world.

"I can't knock this out." She lowers the lever and makes a smart observation: the truck that just went through the garage door doesn't have a neck, so she can't give it a lever kick to the neck. "Why so much enthusiasm for killing me? I'm just a kid." Facing the mercenary truck and the blazing fire of Flametower, she's as powerless as she is now, as she is in most places and situations in the storage rooms.

"Au..." She can only weakly moan as something or another shakes her back and forth, the few forces she has left to resist won't help her in any way.

When forced out of her control, she stops moving first and thinks she's dead, because everything is so cold and dark, then she finds out that death tastes like frozen mud and starts spinning around in the snow to ease her burns before getting up.

>You're conserving signs of life... Did I do it well...?

"Yes... I'm okay." She sniffs through her nose, everything hurts. "I'm crying because you're going to die, not me, I swear." She doesn't have the heart to complain about how injured she is and how certain she is that she's going to die soon anyway, she'd rather let the robotic eyes shut down hearing that she did a good job.

"Flaaaameeee!" She takes a breath. "Haa... ¡Tooooweeer!" She breathes. "¡Dieciochooo kaaa!" She takes another breath, starts to sob. "Why did you have to have such a long name? Uuu..."

«Stupid girl hormones or whatever, don't you see that if they make me cry, they're all going to hear me and come to kill me?» She wipes her tears with her fists before they freeze on her face.

Before deciding where to go, she throws some snow over Flametower's body as a way to give him a burial, but his heat melts it and then she has another idea.

«He was right. He's not a person. He's not dead, he's just broken. He just needs to be fixed.» Leaving him behind after already saying she wasn't going to bring him back would make all of this useless, so she carries what's left of his body on her back as best as she can. «At least now you weigh less.» It doesn't make her laugh.

She leaves as fast as she can with the weight she's carrying in a direction different from the town or the zombies, this level is no longer safe for him, so it's time for her to obey Flametower's recommendation and find a way to leave, she has no way to save herself, let alone Alondra and the rest of the town. Maybe in the direction she goes she'll find a train making a stop, or the tall wheat will hide her for a while until she finds another exit, or maybe not, she can't just stay still there, watching things unfold.
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5708 es
66324b501584a41e7d98dfaf66d5af6a299fd8afc5b4463fe09a25bc6b025f38.jpg
447 KB 1872×2216
>>5703
<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, time 8)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 50/50
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 19/20
- Strength: 11x2
- Agility: 10x2
- Resistance: 11x2 + 10 Hazmat Suit Reinforced V2
- Luck: 4
Inventory
- Pockets 4/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Brayan
Revolver Magnum (2/6. Damage x3, Priority +2)
Kitchen Knife (+3 damage. Rusty)
Skills:
Man Wolf (Transformation): x2 in base stats. x3 in base stats in aquatic environments.

Level 21
Hilda: I said practically, not totally... And it has more to do with the stench, the essence, the- You know what? Just get on the damn thing.

You obey and the beholder takes you through a tunnel in space, disappearing into nothingness and throwing you onto the floor of a stage that brings terrible memories, only now Paquita isn't there to help you. The doctor shakes his head, clearly disappointed by your reaction.

Dr.Hermes: Perception is relative. Don't confuse your negative experiences with the general impression. 7000 million people live a fully realistic and solid existence thanks to our combined efforts. We are the shield of humanity.

You refuse to listen any longer, grab the can and throw it at the fat guy. From your point of view you hit him squarely in the face, but from the doctor's perspective the projectile passed by his side and was harmless, and that was the stance that was taken.

Dr.Hermes: To deal with me you would first have to have the slightest chance of winning. But you are far from being the sharpest tool in the shed, Martin Emilios Palacio. Although without a doubt when my new nurse opens you up, we will find more than one anomaly worth studying. Her name is Regina, a really charming young woman, I'm sure you two will get along great.

You look at Hilda, she is your hope, you want her to react. You see her taking off her skin mask and throwing it to the ground. But more than furious she bites her lip frustrated.

Hilda: Yeah, yeah, I'll do it... Just... Shut up a little, okay? Don't demand things from people as if everything were easy. I expected ruins, not this... Sorry, idiot.

She looks at you sideways. In her eyes there is a gleam of pity that evaporates into one of determination. The woman ignites -in every sense- her hair catches fire like plasma and her clothes disappear wrapped in blue and purple flames. The energy covers her and transforms her, but it doesn't stay with her, it expands like a wall of revealing light that drags behind it waves of fire.

The flames hit you. Hit everyone. The soldiers don't have time to scream or suffer, the fire evaporates them. The helicopters crash leaving behind thick trails of smoke. The Dr.Hermes remains like a rock licked by the underground storms of the sea, a curved and dark silhouette, with his eyes still shining like suns. And you...

The suit and the skin peel off from you. Your wolf side tries to grab the fat to your bones, but the fire doesn't delay to strip you of the layers as if you were an onion. Your eyes boil, your nails come off, the holes that mend grow until revealing the bone underneath...

There is no pain. Only darkness.

...

???
An open hand hits your face repeatedly.

???: Wake up, damn it.

With an effort, you open your eyes.

???: Get your ass up, everything is going to hell and you're rubbing like a seal. I'm already regretting coming to get you.

The diffuse figure that scolds you becomes more defined little by little, her white hair stands out in the darkness. It's Polar.

You're back in Gloria's room. You've been dreaming too long, although the skull in your pockets indicates otherwise.
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5709 es
308111f657ccff57dab64692c3334ebceb8c15cd7c8876d41a784f742f037f5f.png
315 KB 500×380
726c60a5d91533dae6f5fd744938343d17904b0addd4e7a70d26e3f6ef50be8f.jpg
993 KB 1800×2544
>>5705
<Catherine Hills (Day 17. Time 16)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 68/70
Hunger: 16/20 - Thirst: 17/20
- Strength: 5
- Agility: 12
- Resistance: 4
- Luck: 3 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
- Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by CH. Pickles.
Liminal Dictionary
Pencil
Notebook

Level 10
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kNp91KRU1ZwHilda: The ones with red hair are the worst.

She told you boldly, looking you straight in the eye.

One of those mornings, while you were passing through the hallway of the house chasing a small field mouse, strong knocks on the door alerted you. You looked around without finding anyone to open it, and the responsibility fell on you. You opened the door to find on the other side a plump woman with a scowling face accompanied by a pale, red-haired child, slouched, with a purple eye and a cast on his left arm. Both well dressed.

Angry Mom: Where is Charmy? His monster hit my little Timmy.

Another morning the same thing happened when you were playing hide and seek with the kids, you opened the door and a new angry mother appeared pushing a wheelchair with a child wearing a neck brace.

Angry Mom 2: That demon you have is out of control! It jumped on my Mickey!

Mickey: S-She was just talking about how much I like to pet white cats and touch their tails...

Charmy punished Hilda. She had to paint the fence, cut the wheat, walk Doggo, and help bring supplies from town, all without help. While peeking through the door of the living room, you saw her from behind, repeating with a chalkboard marker phrases about how bad it is to beat other kids. Hilda lets out a hiss between her teeth and waves the hand she is writing with (It should be clarified that, being the most generalized language in the backrooms, Hilda writes in English).

Communication, a subject both of you drag along with deficiencies, so when you asked her why she hurt those two kids, she turned her face away and limited herself to saying they deserved it, without going into details. It wasn't that they weren't listening, Hilda was always attentive to every one of your words, so she promised to take you to level 5 to meet an old friend, but this matter would extend further ahead...

Dora: ¡Thank you for you!

That's redundant. The point is that she allowed you to practice her medical skills, the kids, for obvious reasons, choose Luz to be healed.

Dora: Do you want the lobotomy too? It's just ten minutes... Yes, I didn't believe it the first time either what I saw.

Question with an innocent smile while showing you a piece of paper with curious information. Anti-depression, anti-stress, they seem like all advantages...

Hilda: I still feel bad. It'll pass, I know, being with you everything feels... Better.

Confesses, grabs your little hands, gets closer to her and... Dora rises from below, standing in the middle.

Dora: I know how to fix it!

Hilda plants a palm on Dora's face and pushes her away. Perforating the brain is the easy way out! Hilda prefers to deal with the guilt.

1/3
Rangato Goshenite-d79de4 No.5710 es
eb9e30c80c9b9fcb70e592ee2937e62b0aefc512fd0e2ccd25e65dc66620931c.jpg
49 KB 465×659
9fd89a6527cfbff67e61f61a625451fcb9171a4808ac114ec7b29fb0f3ce8c0e.jpg
34 KB 414×517
dda5f5e1dba433bcce8492fccba1b4172f8745c19762bd6fa712f0cbc897466d.jpg
157 KB 623×1200
>>5706
Rando struggles a bit while Marietta settles in the middle of the cat's tail; this is like the third weird thing that's happened to him today. At least now he's comfortable sharing warmth with a stranger...

[Kidnap? That depends, don't you wish to come with us? To be honest, I doubt you'll find anyone who knows how to handle you better than I...]

And staying on a bench freezing to death isn't a better option either; somehow it offends him, even though she doesn't know he's the best feline servant she'll find in this place.

[Destiny...]

[Ah, so that's what you were talking about? I see, do you have some ability to see the future or something like that...? Well, we were in a hurry to find you and Don, even if you say you don't know who you are...]

[Am I crazy...? You... saw her with... the bag boy... too, didn't you...]

I know what I saw, yes, and I don't think I'm so inexperienced that my senses would be altered without me noticing... So either she lost her memory or this is "another" one...

Ghasto would bet on the first one, because if it's the second, that means there are two Mariettas in the Backrooms at the same time and dressed alike, which fits his concept of normality since he can also split himself, but he doesn't want to make things more and more complicated.

[And indeed, planning isn't one of this individual's gifts...]

[Hey...]

He points at Rando, who gets a bit annoyed; they didn't exactly "plan" to be here now.

[Just two...? That's just an appetizer considering your nature, dear; I've even reached... uh... Anyway, those who are like us aren't made for "good" precisely, I knew...]

[Uh...? Who...?]

Rando is still lost; he doesn't understand what the cat is talking about, he just feels a slight dizziness, but it's the same thing he's felt since they met, so he downplays it and settles the girl in his arms. Meanwhile, they keep walking...

[Sexuality...] Ghasto says, looking at the sky.

[What...] Rando replies...

[Oh, nothing... Just thinking out loud...] He lied.
[Whatever you say...]

After walking for a while, Ghasto realizes what the girl was saying without any effort or guesswork. The cat stops dead in his tracks and halts Rando as well with his hand...

[Cocytus, huh...? I wonder how he ended up here... Or if it's the same one...]

[Who...]

He doesn't answer immediately. In that brief moment, Rando pulls Marietta closer to his own body. She's starting to get cold, and it's no coincidence; even the cat's tail begins to stiffen little by little due to the environment.

[That brings back memories... Anyway, if Don's around there, he's dead. Anyone with common sense would stay away; you don't need to be very smart...]

[Is it that dangerous...]

Rando clutches tighter in search of warmth without realizing it, and only thanks to the fur is he not trembling like jelly or suffering imminent freezing.

[It's deadly. But we've already found the culprit behind this blizzard and the weather...]

[How do you know...? I see nothing...]

[We're still far enough from him not to alert him, but if we keep going, it'll be exactly as the lady said: we're going to die. You first...]

[Oh...]

So they turn around and start moving away from the colossus from before. At least now they know whose fault it is and why the weather suddenly got trapped in a perpetual winter.

[What are we... going to do...]

Asks Rando, now able to walk without depending on anyone.

[No idea. From how I see it... You can't defeat him alone, so either we migrate to another level, or we prepare for an ice age... There's also the option of hunting him as a group or convincing him to give up his behavior...]

[You talk as if you knew him...]

[I know his qualities and abilities; he was somewhat famous in a certain region... And what do you think, miss? What future do you foresee for this man?]

He asks Marietta, pointing at Rando in case she's awake, and if she isn't, they just let her sleep while they ponder whether it would be a good idea to look for Don... Probably that's what they'll do out of inertia while deciding on the objective.
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5711 es
af909cf02dcb37e33aed6d2c04422e9d227487ea0402f25862ceb6ad3360f8a8.jpg
194 KB 1359×2048
bda17a54085dac0f67734d09631ca4a428cbe302f0f3f17ffb18d6bccc962224.webp
113 KB 595×442
a20d35ac7830cc32bcda7251c2846ffeb3dd512f1d4447080dc96e9bfc15987f.jpg
56 KB 1280×720
137b61ca58073932747ac18922b5cca29e50b01a6b3acb77f15f3ddad163e566.jpg
29 KB 300×150
>>5709
<Catherine Hills (Day 17. Time 16)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 68/70
Hunger: 16/20 - Thirst: 17/20
- Strength: 5
- Agility: 12
- Resistance: 4
- Luck: 3 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
- Pockets 4/4
Book: "New Horizons and Relative Axes", by CH. Pickles.
Liminal Dictionary
Pencil
Notebook

Level 10
The orange skins continue on the desk. It's been a while since Hilda left, and your answers to Charmy's questions are expressed with a sterile tone and furtive attitude. Lying comes naturally to you, she'll never find out.

Charmy: Curious, with my parents it was the opposite, they taught me to seek the truth.

Charmy's plump hand taps on the cocobolo wood. The price for your honesty is non-negotiable: Do not punish Hilda. The leader sighs and nods, assuring that she won't sanction her for the illegal expedition to the attic, including your injuries.

Charmy: I give you my word. In certain lands it's worth more than gold.

Now more at ease, you open up and reveal what happened. The bite, the meaning of the scar, the scare and the forgiveness after the misunderstanding was cleared up. Charmy takes off her yellow explorer's hat, places it on the table, and with both hands she strokes her temples.

Charmy: That girl...

You hear her murmur. She lowers her arms and looks at you.

Charmy: I'll have a talk with her.

But you trusted her promise!

Charmy: I said talk, not punishment. You two seem close. I never expected that... that Hilda would get so attached to another person.

She looks you up and down.

Charmy: Are you trying to charm her, or are you?

It's normal she doubts you, you've called yourself the best liar, and Charmy suspects you might be manipulating Hilda to get things, for example the flower in your hair.

Charmy: Throw it away when you leave. Those plants can cause psychosis or something worse. They come from a bad place. Here, a sample lesson. Just don't focus too much, you could suffer from monochrome insanity.

She hands you a bulky, rectangular device, more like a pair of slide scheme diagrams that you have to insert in the upper slot before looking through the square light-sensitive areas where your eyes go.

First photo of Th3 Sh4dy G3ey, a house made of zinc sheets...

Second photo, something with a bloodied belly...

Third photo, a plague doctor with his hand raised. According to Charmy, he was a good friend of her parents before he went mad and started experimenting on children...

Charmy: Now he's a golden compass.

You return the device to the leader. She puts it in a drawer. You still resist answering about the attic, Charmy calls you out.

Charmy: A deal goes both ways, Catherine.

You admit you went on your own will. In the end, all that little trip was an attempt by Hilda to strengthen the bonds, and they did, but not without important bumps in the road.

Charmy: Very well, if there are no complaints from your side, I suppose that's all for now.

With a sweeping arm motion, Charmy throws all the orange skins into a basket attached to the desk.

Charmy: Anything else you want to talk about, Catherine? Are you still interested in going to a place where you can fit better?

2/3
Murcielago y Otaku Galena-be7e7d No.5712 es
8a024221e7a813a90e775c5224d8a66147e2b840dec5d73bf26304cfd5ea1525.jpg
55 KB 572×760
4cf2b106769736a3c1780e29d84de0ad46806c90789c0c27030af1e3c556fe2a.gif
145 KB 400×300
ed4f3b854d76b8e185b07be64c7c4b0dd1a0838efd8670ac68fe90eea905465d.jpg
450 KB 2000×1333
85c8636e54f1b3caaa55cffddf1d9d14b0a89ae002949a5a837438a6abad70ca.jpg
413 KB 1097×1600
>>5690
>Donny

Irene claimed to be at peace, for some reason, that didn't calm him down. He ruffles her hair, Donny can't help but let out a laugh.

"And you were always so tall and imposing? I'm supposed to be the older brother... well, I was trapped for a few days on level 49, and I turned back into a kid again. What... what happened to you?"

She approaches the strange monolith, giving the impression of a hospital as she proceeds to recount her experiences...

"Yeah, we saw the crazy lady at the Draga and... and..." The words stick in her throat like a knot in her gullet as she remembers Irene. "I couldn't save her, I wasn't strong enough... she saved me and I let her die."

>"I killed the rest."

Donny's gaze turns to stone; he had already noticed the blood covering Irene, but he wanted to ignore it, he couldn't anymore.

"Was it necessary? Were they as bad as the... the Irene with the scissors?" He asks, and he was terrified of hearing the answer.

...

The group of explorers from long ago appears; hopefully, they don't recognize Donny and don't chew him out for losing the ring artifact.

If he was already somewhat overwhelmed by meeting a strange Irene, the revelation that his mother was waiting for him, that she was here in the Backrooms, and that this was an absolute truth, is just too much for him.

https://youtu.be/zDLk_eUcn8IHe leans forward and vomits, though he takes care to move the skull away so as not to dirty it.

"..." He looks at Cabal. "If you're telling the truth, I'll follow you." He turns around and looks at Irene. "...Why don't you come with me? We can go with Mom, look for... for my Irene, we can all be together, please, no one has to hurt anyone."
...
>>5691
>Irene

The albino ignores her outright. Irene brays and tries the second option, the artifact.

"Ninja? And the black clothes, the headband with your village symbol, your scrolls with secret techniques, your ninja weapons?" He started autistic-ing very hard at the mention of Polar being a Ninja. "Never mind, I'm sorry." Getting back to the important part, he could give her a hand with the Eye of Argus.

>"Thanks."

"It wasn't hard," he says with a very smug smile kek.

Polar uses the Eye of Argus and finds who they were looking for: a fox girl accompanied by one with pigtails, flying over a neighborhood of nice houses and playing with a dragon sphere.
If anyone saw her at that moment, it would seem she was about to vomit glitter out of her eyes because the scene was so kawaii that it ended up infecting her eyeballs.

This ends as soon as they see the next scene of a fat guy in a yellow suit. Apparently, the Wood Boy knew where that was, a radio tower. By the way, the boy also knew the whole city.

"Don't you know any path to Level 12, Junior?" He asks now that he has the chance; had he known the Wood Boy was a walking map, he would have asked earlier. If the answer was yes, he would get off with them to go as a team until they had to separate.

If there was no path to Level 12... well, next kek
Well thanks for the words, kek, this would be my third job, and yes, starting was shit because they gave me a horrendous schedule you have to wake up at 5am and then they question why you don't have the expected motivation, burn all the HR people, but they already changed it for me and I'm doing great now, kek
And of course I'm going to treat myself to some luxuries, after gifting my saintly mother a new kitchen for Christmas I was going to get a laptop to escape the curse of phoneposting that I've been carrying for 6 years
>>5692
After leaving Polar and Junior behind, the bus continued until it stopped again; the road was blocked by a group of paranormal children.

"Ohh, they're like the girl from Ringu" Yes, he says Ringu instead of The Ring so we remember he's an Otaku, but the more he looks, the more disturbing everything is, their mismatched clothes and lifeless eyes "..." He has a ml body for all this, and the trasteros were never trustworthy, he agreed with Hank and Leon "I agree, we have to move before something happens"

And the 'something' happened, because like someone putting things to pop tires on a road in the middle of the night, this was a trap.

"No!"

From the Wheatfield, red ribbons grow like vines and stick to the windows, and Sue, with very little survival instinct, opens the door to let them in.

Irene says nothing, she lunges as fast as she can, pushing Sue aside with one arm and trying to close the window with the other, ready to use the Machete to stab or cut whatever was necessary if she didn't make it in time.

Strength: 1d50 = 2 + 11 + 15 (Machete)
Agility 1d50 = 10 +10 Effort mode to achieve the roll and spend the necessary energy.
Murcielago y Otaku Galena-be7e7d No.5713 es
>>5712
Again, if I were to fall into the second scenario, re roll to agility 1d50 = 17
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5714 es
809a134a1c6aa4758489307afddb0cdcd08df4d07dacacec2026509b8ca8b336.webp
41 KB 640×640
14128f960678495e0803400ee8e401ffd6f08b1be5ced6c8b2df3186acc0443c.gif
823 KB 792×527
>>5711
<Catherine Hills (Day 17. Time 17)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 67/70
Hunger: 15/20 - Thirst: 16/20
- Strength: 5
- Agility: 12
- Resistance: 4
- Luck: 3 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
- Pockets 4/4
Book: "New Horizons and Relative Axes", by CH. Pickles.
Liminal Dictionary
Pencil
Notebook

Level 10
You leave the office looking for Hilda, but the hallway is empty. You look around, your lynx-like vision spots the brash woman's sword leaning against the wall, which means she'll be back soon... Or you could look for her and take it.

While you decide, you stretch out your hand and grab the weapon. It's surprisingly light. A cloth wraps around the handle with suspicion, but by accident, your delicate fingers slide between the folds and touch the handle below.

The world changes instantly.

The night is bright. The infinite, multi-colored dunes. The peak of colossal ruins rises among the boiling sand, and the wind tosses and suffocates you at the same time.

You advance in any direction because there is no clear horizon. Your feet sink, and you roll down a dune until you end up on your back on that mysterious desert. Three shadows cover you, feminine, tentacled, none of them with good intentions. Two of the colorful cephalopods throw big smiles, the third only a slight smirk of curiosity.

They are the Sisters of the Sun. Sol Rita, Sol Tequila, and Sol Presa, the terrible spirits that inhabit the interior of the sword. By reflex you try to escape, but their appendages leap like whips, and they grab your legs and arm, lifting you into the air between the three. The suction cups cover you, your limbs are covered in mucus.

Sol Rita (The Pink One): Oh, oh, look what chance brought us.

Sol Tequila (The Blue One): It's not our moon, but something more new... Stimulating... Better, ohohohoho! I smell your fear and I love it!

Sol Presa (The Green One): Be careful, it's a human. Maybe she stole... If only Hilda lets us see what's outside.

Sol Tequila: A thief! Definitely tried it! And what a surprise she got!

Sol Presa: I know what you're up to, it's not funny.

Sol Rita: She looks delicious! I'll take her!

The tentacles of this last one squeeze and surpass you, going up your legs. One of them invades your dress and wraps around your waist, the tip of another pushes your lips seeking to invade your mouth.

Sol Rita: First I'll play, and when I get bored I'll eat her!

Sol Tequila: It's not fair, let us play first, you'll break her!

Sol Presa: I propose splitting her into three parts. It's the most fair.

Is this the end of Ashley Hills?! Kek, no, it's quite evident what will happen Also, in a bad end doujinshi, in the antiverse Marie met the sun sword instead of the moon

3/3
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5715 es
c8fada470d1b62755294ee430ecefc7b06ed9ee7ad3034d0182dbf5b6641c5fa.jpg
33 KB 612×408
>>5705
>>5707
>I propose splitting it into three parts. It's the most democratic
Fixed.

<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, time 10
HP: 30/80
Energy: 77/100
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 19/21
- Strength: 8 + 7 Lever
- Agility: 10 - 5 Orange Star Jacket - 20 Flametower-18K,
- Resistance: 10 + 5 Orange Star Jacket
- Luck: 1
Inventory:
- Pockets 0/4
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Retreats one or two turns in time. Costs 10 of hunger and thirst.

Level 10
You roll around in the snow, temporarily relieving your pain, but the stabbing sensation resumes when you move away and seconds pass. You break down in tears for the sacrifice of Flametower-18K, it's the hormones, you tell yourself while burying the robot in snow. Immediately afterwards you witness how the white cloak melts before your eyes... At least it served to cool it down.

You lift your head between your little hands and from there the torso that remains, it's difficult. Gears, cogs, and charred cables fall to the ground, the pieces evoke a strong smell that dazes you. The remaining limbs detach, neither do you need them in their current state. You mount it on your back, its weight immobilizes you, but you struggle to drag your feet forward. Left, right, left, right, towards the wheat and away from the village.

Despite the cold, the effort drenches you in sweat. Among the stalks it's impossible to know where you're heading, you could be going in circles, or heading towards danger. In the sky, lightning cuts through the clouds, but without being followed by thunder. Your whimpers, the stalks swaying, and your soles scraping snow, are the only things you hear until...

...Damn it...

A raspy and human voice surprises you. It sounds ten or fifteen meters to your left, so close you could run into the owner. You make light dance, more than one, they are several people patrolling, and the one who spoke is complaining about Bill, about how he sent them to hunt wanderers instead of enforcing the new law in the village. Other voices join in.

...Fucking lucky bastards...

...The miller's wife did everything to have her husband's life spared...

...Thank the backrooms for bringing devoted wives who fuck like machines...

The first one you heard concludes and is followed by laughter.

...Don't fuck with me, we know what you like, Troy. More daughters than wives, very, very young

...How young?

No one answers the question. A cold sweat runs down your back.

You urgently look for an escape route, and your eyes find a hole in the ground, almost a burrow (Ending). It would be impossible to pass with Flame on your back. Maybe the ideal thing would be to get away as quickly as possible? Or stay quiet and pray they don't find you?

Requirements:
+60 total agility roll to escape.
+30 total luck roll to not be found (Luck cannot be amplified by the effort mode)
Palacios Sugilite-1aba04 No.5716 es
>>5708

"Si, bueno ¿porque no me la chupas la pija relativamente hablando?"

Starts to notice a certain pattern with the people inside here starting to let loose philosophical nonsense to make themselves look deep. Would say that it's even increased the trend now that it's cold, maybe the snow is lowering everyone's smoke and that's why they're acting like that. In his case, that doesn't apply, because it still lights the fuse the first time the hairs fly off.

...

Hilda also lights up and in her case there's no dummy willing to argue with her about the objectivity of how everything and everyone catches fire, including him. He doesn't even get to scream before the heat dries his throat and the lights leave him blind, the pain appears and disappears as if it never was there and before he realizes it, his mind disconnects. Everything goes off, he feels nothing, there's nothing left, he is nothing.

"¿And you what stupid shit are you doing here?"

Breathing resumes, sensations return and fatigue increases. He rubs his eyes, lets out a yawn with his face wide open and tongue out. He chews air, while licking his palate, noticing then that his teeth have grown back. The pain in the joints also lessens and he'd swear he has better vision. It's there when he sees someone who shouldn't be here.

>The regret will follow you, no matter the place nor how much-

The one who addressed before wasn't Polar, but Brayan. He's not going to blow his head out thinking if the previous thing was a dream or if it really happened. He's already well planted in his head that here both things are a bit the same shit. In the end he decides that the best thing is to do the same thing he's been doing, which is not to give a damn about the matter. To close even more with the whole topic, he grabs and throws Brayan against a wall to break him in half so he doesn't have to listen to him anymore.

"...¿You were?"

Having removed Brayan from his back, he sits back down where he was. Looking at the turkey next to him with a confused face. The face sounds familiar, because it's his face, but from there to knowing who he is he has zero idea. About 30 years have passed since the last time he saw him, so he has no idea who he is or what he wants.

¡Buuuuhhh! you eliminated the bad ending, coward
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5717 es
c122c60cfa6b6ca18966d291052c05f231168978d69b5c897689f7fa8c61b17a.jpg
100 KB 850×1190
>>5710
<Rando Roadagain (Day 25, hour 4)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 7/50
Hunger: 0/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 7 + 7 Gastly (+1 extra attack)
-Agility: 6 + 6 Gastly
-Resistance: 6 + 10 Spiked Armor (10 contact damage)
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8

Level 10
Does the stranger possess precognition? Clairvoyance? Some ability that lets her see beyond the established?

Marietta: I can't see much right now...

A layer of ice covers her eyelashes. She raises her gloved hands and, with her fingers, pushes her eyelids open until she manages to open them, rediscovering the spiral amber gaze resting beneath. Those same delicate hands are the ones that cover her embarrassed face as the conversation unfolds.

Marietta: People are full of cholesterol and taste bad! I shouldn't...! Nobody should eat them!

Rando takes advantage of the Von Karma's vulnerability and closeness to squeeze and get some heat, though it's unlikely his hands can handle the voluptuous flesh of the stranger. She squirms uncomfortably.

Marietta: P-Please, masked sir. The spikes on your clothes tickle me...

With danger ahead, they choose to turn back. Cuno's map is no longer useful; it's a one-way route, from point A to point B. Deviating in any direction or simply going back ends up leading them astray into the infinite field. Marietta keeps the map and wastes it among the spikes during a physiological mission. The people she ate had to come out somewhere.

After digestion, the girl feels more ready to resist the cold and now walks like one of the group.

Marietta: I heard him (to Cocytus) say he was looking for worthy warriors to challenge and defeat. I just stared at him... Sometimes I do that, observe things... And I saw him preparing some kind of... Craft. Yeah, overcoming him in a group sounds like what an intelligent person would do... Hey, where are we going?

What's to the north? Wheat. To the east? Wheat. To the south? Wheat. To the west? A misty line of trees. The scene emphasizes the obvious: They are lost. And the snow continues to fall.
Dawn breaks, dusk falls, and dawn breaks again. Rando slept as little as possible while being used as a pack animal whenever Marietta's feet got tired, which happened often. To make matters worse, they consumed all the water they had brought.

Marietta: ...

The rumble of stomachs is heard. Rando sees the blushing Von Karma wrapping her belly in her arms. She's been eating raw wheat for a couple of hours, but it's obvious that doesn't satisfy her. The stranger's gaze shifts and collides with the masked man's. She offers him a trembling smile; the spirals spin inside her pupils.

Marietta: I-I'm glad you're ugly, masked sir. O-Otherwise... I can't be responsible for my actions.

What actions? What response? Marietta is terse with details, but Rando perceives a growing layer of unease wrapping around his throat like a rope. The Von Karma is still in her right mind, but can the same be said for tomorrow...?

Cocytus remains in the wheat field, and if they turn back, they'll surely encounter him. About 100 meters ahead, they spot another farm, more dilapidated than the last, but surely with rooms where Rando can rest and recover. Supplies? Maybe. Another option is to go to the forest, but there's no guarantee that walking in a straight line toward it will lead them there.

Ghasto realizes they're trapped. Level 10 enveloped them and set up two walls. Cocytus being one, and infinity being the other. Ghasto's high perception is surely the cause of the labyrinth enveloping them with mania. The only comfort in the whole situation is that the weather in the trap is a bit warmer.

Marietta: My chronometer isn't working...

The Von Karma murmurs while glancing at the watch on her wrist. That confirms the theory: they're trapped in an isolated fragment of time and space. Though Rando still feels tired and gets a bit older every hour, as usual.

-Marietta Von Karma
HP: 200/200
-Strength: 1 + ???
-Agility: 1 + ???
-Endurance: 1 + ???
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5718 es
df661bd5aac7a574e5501ad7dee90528def48767a53f07723148793b3de56b14.webp
39 KB 306×474
>>5712
<Donatello Lombardi (Day 30, 15:00)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 38/70
Hunger: 10/31 - Thirst: 23/40
- Strength: 5 + ? Alondra's Nutcrackers
- Agility: 5
- Resistance: 7 + 5 Hazmat Suit (Anti-radiation. Kids size)
- Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 1/4
Emma
Techniques:
-Bat Breaker: For one turn, use 1d100 rolls. Sacrifices the wielded bat.

???
Irene Gold: More than 30 years have passed for me, Donny. People change.

The mysterious woman is already over 40, and yet she looks extremely attractive. You have to force yourself not to look where the flesh tempts... She's your sister! And she's dangerous, the blood that stains her - and her later confession - proves that.

Irene Gold: Look for yourself...

With her arm she makes a gesture towards the surface of the monolith. New images appear: infinite streets, burning labyrinths, walkways floating between the clouds, and in all of them the Irene of gold is standing before the remains of another version of herself.

Some have long hair, or a different color, or wear sunglasses, or are taller or shorter, or have their body replaced by cybernetic implants. The only characteristic they share is that they are in pieces, dying. The vision shakes your nerves and causes nausea... The last Irene to appear is Elite Irene, but she is not fighting for her life, but talking about something you can't hear. Elite Irene writes down the words of Gold Irene in a kind of notebook.

The appearance of the Dawn Team interrupts them. The truths of Cabal eventually affect you and you lean to empty the contents of your stomach (-8 hunger). With bile flowing down your chin, you tremble towards Irene Gold, who keeps her eyes locked on the adventurer. The woman takes a step forward and...

Cabal: Nomura, do it now!

The short kunoichi quickly takes a hand to the thick pouch on her waist and then extends it, revealing a thick bronze gauntlet. The eye in the metallic palm opens and illuminates, making eye contact with your sister.

Irene Gold is paralyzed with one foot extended forward. Her pupils are dilated, like pools of tar. Nomura lowers her hand, but since she doesn't have the strength to close it without more, she has to help herself with her other hand to contract her fingers. Cabal places a hand on your shoulder.

Cabal: She wasn't going to let us go... She's a cold-blooded killer. Time to go, Donatello. It'll be a surprise for your mother to see you here.

Nomura approaches to grab and store the judge's skull. Cabal looks at you expectantly to go to the door through which you arrived. Perhaps Irene Gold still worries you, and Cabal confesses that he doesn't know if she'll ever wake up from the paralysis.

Cabal: Maybe she's already dead, I don't know. These powerful artifacts were given to us by our benefactor, and he limited himself to telling us exactly what we needed to know, without questions or details.

Your mother, and the end of your torturous journey, awaits beyond the door. Will it be a happy or bitter conclusion? That's up to destiny.

It's your turn to make the decision.
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5719 es
2268fa247a9331d49a3eb57fcff593472729b051693e5104c8b31167fd99dc48.jpg
97 KB 363×487
1c49c690a8fc8cbdea3f624d81faa4e47e7f6f8f5a9f6102f1e4a384f51ab793.jpg
64 KB 262×422
>>5699
You won't believe it, OPecito... Marie was only in the BNTG for a week, the trip to Level 7 was on the 8th, keksito chapter 4 if you want to confirm it
>Marie
Going up means sacrificing, she understood that. But it went beyond just leaving friends and a settlement. Ascending also means changing; it becomes evident that the reason Charmy didn't go further was more complex than Marie had thought.

<I was asking myself...

Now Marie feels a bit silly, maybe she should have questioned that. I mean... It's a good question.

<They always narrated fantastic and impossible scenarios...

Instinctively, Marie's little eyes go to the horizon for a second. This is a bit impossible, isn't it?

<But the leader rejected all that to stay with us.

"Ja... said like that it sounds very nice, right?"

Luz lies down on her legs; Marie doesn't have much thigh to use as a pillow, but there's something. The surprise hits her; she never saw herself in this dreamlike situation.

"A-ah-"

She doesn't know exactly what to do. Her hands become satellites orbiting the planet Luz while she speaks, while she decides how to proceed.

"Eh..."

<When I questioned her

With shame, her little hands move forward and backward as if pulled by a rope. Insecurity ends up freezing her... She touches the ground, she doesn't want to ruin this.

<she told me that many people get lost up there forever even if they return. I didn't get it, but then I met Amity.

"E-eh-" -returns to the present after her short internal struggle- "A-Amity?" -doesn't sound familiar, she looks surprised-

<Dark...

"Oh- ah... Haha... She..." -rubbing her own nape- "ah... I was saying that name wasn't very name-y..." -hisses to lighten the mood... agh... Dark. That girl intimidates her, and she barely crossed paths with her once-

<At first she sent me anonymous notes and poems using crows... Weird, but also nice.

"Heh... D-do you like poems?"

She tries to lighten the mood with humor, what Luz finds when she looks is a girl smiling, of course forcing it. She feels it's a bit strange, but she is the cuck understanding and insecurity-free girlfriend. She can't be affected by this. Marie makes her smile more pronounced when the girl looks at her.

<We liked each other, one day she confessed to me and we made it official, we went out, it was nice.

(Heh... W-what do I answer to that exactly...?)

<The problem is that Amity was two years older than me, she had experience and wanted to explore the backrooms.

"Oh- s-so does she have... 16 now?" I always assumed Luz was the same age as Marie or at most a year older, right? I don't remember if it was clarified, I just know Don was described as two years older than Marie kek

<She graduated from the little ones and went with the leader's cousin to learn what it was to survive in levels above 50.
"Mini-compasses..."

Yeah... Marie thought they were just two distinct groups fulfilling similar functions. Apparently not. They were like... the next level. One that Marie will never reach today kek poor Carlie

<She never stopped sending me letters and gifts...

(Love language of gifts...)

<but of course she took the chance to visit me...

"Hah... C-clearly... I-I'd do the same..."

(Really, what else can I say?)

Luz sees her, her little face isn't the same as before. Those eyes radiating pain instantly infect the redhead, who then looks sad.

"...L-Luz...? W-what-?"

<Marie

"W-uh?"

<it's not my intention that you hate her...

"H-hate her-?"

<I think she doesn't know that I still remember... The leader also thinks I forgot. Please, don't tell anyone.

"I-I... Uh-"

She doesn't know exactly what she's going to hear, her tongue stumbles a couple of times as she decides. But Luz... she's so vulnerable. So... lonely? It seemed she needed this. Someone to listen to her... Wasn't Marie the best for that?

"Eh... I..." -closes her eyes and nods with her head, showing a forced decision- "...I promise..."

And they told her. Nothing is left out, and the narrated story is so clear like a movie that Marie feels she can reproduce it in her little head kek by the end, the one listening accompanies her partner in sorrow. The barrier of grief breaks in an instant, and Marie's hands stroke Luz's head, finishing giving her all the comfort that position could give.

"T-that..." -her hands stop for a moment, frozen in the search for the words that work best now- "I... I'm so sorry... that... was horrible..."

That's all she can say. It went much further than just saying this, but she hopes her ears and her company help reduce the pain.

"No... you didn't deserve any of that. I... I don't understand how someone could do that to you..."

She lowers her upper body, and ends up centimeters from her partner's little face, her little nose brushing her cheek, or if she was already observing her, nose to nose.

"I promise you... I-I don't want to hurt you... n-never... never ever..."

She doesn't have to search for words this time, just let them flow. She's her partner, she just wants her well-being, she desires it more than anything in the world. She would go far for it, she... has already done it.

She once questioned what she did to get her back.

That other Luz did so much for her counterpart... and she took advantage of it. Sometimes, the pain in her face when tasting the betrayal... follows her.

But in that moment she only wanted to get Luz back.

Wasn't that other one enough?

...it's easy... and hard to explain at the same time.

Even when the anti stroked her... appreciated her... or hugged her...

...she was simply not her.

1/2 (or 3 I think I don't know kek)
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5720 es
3ec8c4b3f52b62da7205ba2925076cb83914acdb049e908f73f23460ba824939.jpg
101 KB 407×404
32ad34d23c35284981d82ad8019fe4ac597976fb6b2643cb93d7a0a6e76c7585.jpg
103 KB 415×594
466dd0f3f47316c80876b1d2383a2062c333e016914eaf0d277108e039514787.png
535 KB 1887×1065
>>5700
As far as I know, that would boil down to Moon vs Moon kek
>Marie
Her gaze drops, her smile unconsciously rises... if it can even be called that. Her mouth is open, yes, watching with fascination those curves so perfect... that she loves so much... she is so beautiful. That skin so smooth that makes her vibrate just by touching it, those hips that fit her hands as if they were made to measure just for her... And that ass... supreme object of Marie's desire, that makes her mouth water and of which she never has enough. She would like to touch her more... Caress, squeeze, feel it on her face!

<Marie?

"Wh-Wh-What?!"

Redder than ever, she jumps as if she'd been hit with a huge jumpscare, the bottle leaps from her hands and Marie ends up flailing the air desperately, slapping it several times to keep it in the air before finally catching it.

"Uh-uh- uh I- just- was- uh- on my face- uh- I mean-!"

She warns that if they take too long they'll catch a cold.

"Oh-! Yes- uh... Sure. Uh- sorry. I... Was... dissociating..."

Now she proceeds to help. A subconscious voice reproaches her attitude and her head bows in super embarrassment, accentuated by her cheeks red like Christmas lights. The truth is, she really went too far.

(Why am I like this...)

(If Luz heard my thoughts... Ugh...)

She would hit her forehead if it didn't make this so obvious.

...

The compliments scale to the perfection with which she looks at her through those glasses.

<I'm not perfect.

She looks at her with narrowed eyes in playful suspicion. Like the one you'd make saying 'ahh-yeah'

"Ahh-yeah..." -well, she does- "adds modestly."

She plays around while Luz brings her the napkin. 'Hm?' she lets out, while she cleans her. Marie shrinks a bit in her place, that embarrassed her a little.

"Ja... Uh- d-didn't notice..." -she scratches a cheek with her index finger, that embarrasses her and she didn't expect that treatment either, which is kind of nice in a way-

<I swear, I'm not.
"Luuz..." -tilts her head toward her as if asking for info, "You are!" That's what she feels-

<And better you know it now, because I don't want to surprise you for the worse.

"-"

They cut the nonsense, a little kiss. Short and sweet, Marie's little heart reacts, filling with love until it completely tames her. She watches her partner, touched... her silliness has already passed.

<I'm very bossy, and a bit intense about order. One day you'll want to do something fun, and I'll tell you... No, Marie, no.

"Like eating grass...?" -a little chuckle, to make it clear she finds it hard to believe- "y-you're..." -she closes the small distance between them again, affectionately touches Luz's cheek- "you're perfect for me... okay?"

That was different. But just as significant. Marie gives her another sweet little kiss. She loves this... She could kiss her all day.

They love each other.

...

Does love imply silence? We asked 50 swords across the United States. Let's see what they say.

<No overexertion. She said that...

(I-it's true...)

<Do you think she was lying? The one on the other side lied a lot.

(W-wait?, The other...?)

(O-oh... Her...)

Yes... Her. Marie has already given her opinions on the matter. It was a difficult situation... and what had to be done was done, right? Marie was truly in an exceptional situation. After so much pain, she only wanted to have her back... and chose to extinguish another to get her back.

Sometimes it's hard for her to justify it... But... wasn't it the best? The right thing...? Again, she prefers not to think about it too much. When something is so difficult... It's better to keep moving forward and leave that behind. Like Luz's body did. Today, seeing her, she can forget that this body isn't entirely hers.

(N-no, no... She's different...)

(A-and besides, there'd be no reason to lie about that, Lunita...)

(T-thanks for reminding me...)

And then they stop.

<Okay, now you know about the boundary markers.

Marie looks to the side, fist over her mouth, and lets out a sigh of air loaded with grace.
<This trip is being very educational.

"Ahem." -pretends to cough and turns back to the front, smiling, almost laughing- "Ahem..." -well, just a single giggle. The stop-sign-and-mojón combo is peak humor- "Uh... Yeah."

Pim pum pam. Marie jots this and that down, nods her head, and looks at Luz with a doubt -exaggerated since it's acted- as Luz scoops up some dirt.

"Weren't you saying it's not for eating?" -she's playing. And keep pushing that-

<It's for the Compasses. Surely more than one will want to come and see our discovery in person.

OUR discovery. Luz doesn't seem too happy with that conclusion.

<Honey

(!!)

She called her honey! Marie doesn't know what to think, but it's not necessary... she can feel it... and it feels nice.

<don't start... I'm bothered by the way you displace yourself like that. You're useful.

"P-perdon, it's just- wait- me?" -"Useful"? Me? That's new...-

<See, I brought my staff?

Marie shakes her head; the sound effect of a can with a marble inside being shaken rings out.

<So, who's the best prepared to defend us if something happens?

"E-eh..."

She looks over her shoulder, locating her sword between her backpack and her back. She looks back at Luz.

"And... me?"

<Exactly. We're not just taking a stroll, we're exploring... You're a proper wanderer now.

"fuaark"

"Heh..." -she smiles, because that makes her feel a little better- "I guess you're right..." -her smile grows- "...as always."

Marie gets her way when naming the signal.

(Hahaha! It's the best name ever!)

When the silliness passes, they can move on to the next test. Lunita goes! When asking for it back, Marie gets a good whack.

"OOF!"

She crouches down, sticks Lunita into the ground while clutching her little chest. She lets go of her chest and raises a hand without letting go of the sword. She's not asking for a timeout, even if it looks like it; she's just asking Lunita to calm down.

(E-It's okay...)
Second attempt. 'Ouch!' she thinks in her mind, not shouting it so Luz sees her as cool. She caught it! She should keep practicing.

(I-I got you!)

She says to the sword, happy. Soon after, the dream is deemed safe and the photos high quality.

<You have a good eye, you should pursue this.

"Haha..." -she laughs nervously- "t-thanks..."

Marie retrieves her phone. This... it's actually a bit worrying. Apparently, dreams sometimes come true... for the worse... and for super good. She can relax a bit about that, because she's living a beautiful dream, where she has a gorgeous girlfriend, and can aspire to just be part of her future fantasies.

Luz stops. In the dim light, Marie lifts her little face to find that gaze of fervent desire. The pale girl can't help but blush, caught up in the atmosphere simmering and palpable in the air with their closeness. She doesn't say anything; it wasn't needed. Luz pounces on her, starting a passionate kiss. The sudden union causes a fall and a brief separation so Marie can whimper and catch her breath before falling to the floor. The union is restored, they join hands, Marie closes her eyes and responds as best she can. The kisses continue for a while; Marie smiles between each second-long pause before continuing, and wraps her little legs around her, ready to receive her if she wanted... but it was getting dark. They have to separate. Marie pants, smiles a bit shyly... releases her from between her legs... she's a total mess.

"Haha... I guess... S-should we go?"

They help her up, fix her clothes, and get her back on her feet. Marie walks a bit embarrassed; she really got carried away...

<Damn, I need to be less horny...

"H-Huh?" -Did she hear that right?-

(H-H-how do I tell her it doesn't bother me?) kek

Lunita could hear that.

(E-eh- I mean- aaaa)

2/3 I apologize for writing so much, keksito. Since we're in the final stretch, I'm taking my time because I enjoy responding, and there will come a moment when I won't be able to. But I can abbreviate if you want so I don't bore you.
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5721 es
03ce7d41f81e5ca5dea5d367aef243867ca9290cf90e01733e384190fa1509a4.jpg
115 KB 363×494
b18db15c31597db84a75e0eea4c915622b4fce1d0be532a81805ee18eafacdb6.jpg
149 KB 1000×1641
dff27cdf25f8c9999ce8278de140cbf0be52c749afdb9bb565d8b78fe28c6da3.jpg
25 KB 640×549
spoiler
67 KB 400×400 spoiler
>>5702
>Marie
She plunges into the water, or something like that. It's there, surrounding her, but barely, she almost doesn't touch it. In any case, she's underwater, going down fast... until she stops.

"Aaaaa!" -ascends- "OU!"

She slams against the ground.

"Ojojo... Ogh..."

She suffers. Luz didn't warn her about this... She pushes herself off the floor, placing her hands on it, and then opens her eyes, finding only pure darkness and no sensation on her nose. The terrifying vision from before is completely displaced by her new concern.

"M-MY GLASSES, I CAN'T SEE WITHOUT MY GLASSES!"

Without even questioning the dense darkness, she starts poking every inch of the floor while crawling. Fortunately, her sword is capable, it's nocturnal after all. Marie advances carefully, feels the stone and senses the frame of her glasses, sighs in relief.

Sigh "Oh thanks, Lunita... I thought..." -puts on her glasses and... nothing- "W-what? N-no- I-I can't see anything, Lunita!" -proceeds to raise her voice, reaching a scream- "I CAN'T SEE, IT WAS THAT DEMON-!"

<S-It's just dark.

"..." -her head turns into a dumbbell dragging her neck to 'see' the dark floor in shame- sigh "I'm a sock..." -opens her mouth to make a fool of herself-

She looks for her phone, fortunately it's not wet. That point for agility! I'll add the others in reserve when I think of where kek Turns on the flashlight, the darkness of the place was suffocating, the kind where you can feel it around the light, like trying to crush it and overcome it. Marie takes the opportunity to give the place a worried look, Luz is nowhere to be found. The air quality seems as bad as a third-world workshop, she can see tiny particles floating in front of her flashlight as if attracted to the beam. Marie covers her nose with her sweater sleeve.

"Good heavens... This... Oh I hope that's not dangerous..." -looks more, again, Luz isn't there- "...damn..." -looks to the side. There's a pool-

(I don't feel like getting into... EH!)

She stops covering her mouth and nose just to point at the little balls in the water.

"Cosmo and Wanda!" -she doesn't have much experience with that series, but her dad liked it, covers her mouth again, that reference is just for her and her sword who wouldn't understand it-

(Good heavens...)

Lowers her hand and looks ahead. Takes a deep breath, filling her lungs with that disease from the dark side of the poolrooms whose name I can't remember the dark loneliness. Mentally preparing for what was coming.

"Alone again..." -looks back, at her little sword- "at least you're with me..."

Having that in mind really helps her tank the loneliness and fear that everything might generate. Lunita was a great addition to her life... In fact, if she didn't have her, she'd probably be dead today. Marie covers her mouth and nose again and advances.

"Let's go..."

Marie wanders around the place, there's not much to choose from so forward they go. There's a plastic garden chair.

(I am the storm that is approaaaching)

Marie remembers a Devil May Cry meme, considers recreating it, but since according to Luz chairs are dangerous... better to pass it by, like that square tunnel where 'suspicious' falls short.

<Marie, now that we're alone I wanted to know... are you okay...? Does it hurt?

"Uh?"

She's surprised, and allows herself to speak out loud. It's more comfortable to do so when she's alone and needs to chat.

"W-what are you talking about, Lunita?, the fall just now?"

Nope.

<I thought about coming to help you, but you didn't call me, so I stayed still in the corner... Did I do wrong?
"Eh...?" -she stops- "Sorry, I don't get it... When?"

<That night, among so many, I saw Luz bothering you.

"OH! Oh, o-oh... Bothering me... Haha..." -she laughs nervously, how does she explain that...?- "u-uh... I... Eh, y-you did right! She wasn't bothering me, just..." -she moves her hand as if drawing a 6,7 to search for words- "j-just... Uh..." sighs "i-it was something we both wanted... Okay?" -she doesn't quite get it- "i-it's hard to explain..." -she says, embarrassed, with her little duck lips- "b-but yes... y-you did right... eh... Luz would never do anything bad to me..." Lunita had ended up on a sofa on the lower floor, does this imply they rolled around all over the house? Keksito

"E-eh, look!"

Another hallway to change the subject.

"It's the same as the other one, but... backwards! Curious, isn't it?" -in TRUTH she's just deflecting the topic- "This reminds me of a puzzle meme." -yes, a different one-

"Hm... Do you think I can reproduce it in my head for you? Come on, Lunita. Pay attention." -Marie closes her eyes, concentrates, and puts her fingers to her temples like a true Jane, I mean, a mentalist- "I'm thinking eeeen..." -she proceeds to imagine the meme-

HOW IT FEELS TO CHEW 5 GUM:

https://youtu.be/muaQdzcwFW8?si=HPhwNbTqRomW6Arf
5 GUM. STIMULATE YOUR SENSES

"Haha..." -Marie opens her eyes and lets out a little giggle- "AAH!"

Soon the humor fades from her face due to the shock of the noise; looking in all directions doesn't help... The noise was coming from what she was holding.

"Oh... I almost forgot I could do that..." -another awkward situation-

Marie brings the phone closer to her little face.

"Hellooo?"

<Luz to Marie. Luz to Marie... Pszzt... Are you there? Over.

"Ehh... Yes. I mean- do you copy? Over."

<What a bummer, we ended up in different places- Pszzzt There's interference, but the signal will improve the closer we get. Keep going- Pszzzt

"U-uh?"

<Take good care of the battery and don't enter the dark part- Pszzzzzzzt...

"Luz?, Luz, do you copy?, Do you copy?, Over!"

She lifts the phone trying to see if gaining some height restores the signal... But nothing.

"Agh... Damn." -lowers the phone- "...what bad luck..." -looks ahead- "well..." -sighs, what can you do- "let's go..." -and walks a bit- "it's better to mov-..."

Her steps slow down until the splashing under her shoes stops. A sudden silence falls, letting the water drops fill the sonic void. Her eyes open wide, realizing something terrible. She doesn't panic, but synthesizes.

"Lunita..."

Yes?

"You heard what she said, didn't you...?"

Maybe...

"She said... 'don't enter the dark part'..." -she didn't finish saying it, but she can fill in the blanks-

And...?

"There are no lights... And... There's a lot of darkness..."

...meaning...

"We're in the dark part, aren't we?"

Marie moves forward, walks. She doesn't rush, because she doesn't want to slip and break her face; this place reminds her of some pools or something. And she's terrified of running near pools.

"Oh, what bad luck, why do these things have to happen to me...?"

She speaks with a certain urgency. She goes straight down the hallway, it's the safest thing.

Roll 3 if it's not a bother, you cut whatever you want and see fit
1d50 = 32
1d50 = 41
1d50 = 5

3/3
A recent Recettear thread made me think about the Frontrooms and made me question if having more "breast-ness" would have given me better opportunities with Robin although I know I didn't, I don't think he cares about the physical. But well, a thought and an excuse to remember that RP.
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5722 es
0190cf967941ffd1eae1e792bc4dac95ff6281fcad00bbc96279791f2863b196.jpg
342 KB 1500×2000
6ea48738c5298a6502fbb4e9049c81574370cb8c60927806182d7a390379e35f.png
154 KB 500×500
df5b18ce94868e902b5cfd7130b5c222a85e2b3afcdcad4389e323097abff73f.png
592 KB 1280×720
9382be39f8c4ed88ff8e56db5c49013ed81919c51ee54fbee2fa631b3b083780.jpg
70 KB 600×897
>>5712
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 60, Hour 13)
HP: 140/150
Energy: 46/80
Hunger: 37/40 - Thirst: 37/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 10
-Stamina: 10
-Luck: 2
Inventory:
-Pockets 1/4
Eye of Argos
Techniques
-Ultra Instinct: Maximum secret of the body judging itself (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it is used).

Level 10
Polar: I am a white ninja and for a few years I served the Dark Mahou against my will... Village? Symbol? What...? Girl, where did you learn about ninjas, from a silly cartoon?

The albino comes from a video game, he has nothing to do with Konoha or the hurricane chronicles.

Junior: Isn't that where misbehaving children end up...?

If you don't eat all your vegetables, Level 12 will get you. Sounds like something Backrooms mothers would tell their most unruly children. It's clear that the wooden boy knows nothing about that place, and when you ask someone else, for example Francine, she would tell you that Level 12 is a myth and possibly a counting error that was never corrected.

You didn't lend the Eye to the wooden boy, he lowers his head, visibly dejected by your indifference. The bus brakes and the duo gets off, Francine asks Junior if he is 100% sure about going with the albino. Junior nods, clarifying that he has to be brave anyway and look for his mother... He and you shared something in common and you didn't know it.

Junior: Thank you, Mrs. Francine. Of all the adults, you are the best. Can you give this to Maverick if you see him again?

From a hole in his chest, he pulls out a rolled-up piece of paper. The blonde receives it, glances at the content, and tilts her head, showing a smile.

Francine: How cute. Did you draw this for him?

Junior: It's a deathmatch challenge. The one on top is me, triumphant... I'm optimistic.

Francine: Huh? What?! Hey, Junior, I-I know he and your mother have had issues but-

Junior: It's not for that reason. The fight will be for lady Eleanor's heart. If she wakes up, he will understand.

The bus moves forward. Through the windows, you see Polar and Junior heading back towards the silhouette of the city, just in time to witness the city lights fail and the metropolis plunge into darkness. But you have no chance to worry about that, danger comes at you head-on in the form of frozen children.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bHe_i98krmo
Sue screams as the ribbons pull her by one hand and her hair.

Sue: N-No! Stop! You're hurting Sue!

She shrieks with tears welling up. You launch yourself desperately (When you decide to spend the necessary energy without specifying, you always spend more than you should), you grab and squeeze one of the ribbons, the sensation is wet but you don't have time to dwell on details and cut it with the machete.
Sue clings to you and buries her face in your chest, crying inconsolably. Your hands are cold and dirty, stained with fresh blood from the tapes. Leon slams the accelerator, they charge into the crowd of mini-zombies. The bus rattles, icy limbs scrape the windows.

Nadjela: WHAT IS HAPPENING?!

Exclaims the dark-skinned girl who had fallen asleep with her MP3 and woke up suddenly. The vehicle shakes.

You look out the windows, there are children dangling with their fingers sunk into the bus's chassis. Hank leans out with you, aims, and shoots the first one with his rifle. He shoots the second, its chest explodes. He runs to the other side and shoots the third. You see pieces of infants disappear into the distance.

Hank: This is easier than duck hunting!

For a moment it seems they've overcome the crisis, but then Leon slows down and stops again. The reason? The gingerbread house that now occupies half the street. Candy canes support the somber structure, and two cookies like gargoyles adorn the front wall. From the wheat field to the left, a gaunt and sinister figure dressed in red peeks out. The party assistant throws and extends a spike trap adorned with Christmas lights across the road.

Leon: We can't continue with that blocking the way, it'll blow out the tires.

The curtains on the house's door move. A two-meter-tall, three-headed, hairy, and fat monstrosity emerges, wearing a red cape and a crown. The three pairs of red eyes glow in the darkness.

Leon: Sacrebleu! The King of Rats. It doesn't make sense, that entity lives much higher up.

The rat head in the center opens its maw, roars, its voice is as thunderous as it is majestic, worthy of a tyrannical king.

Rat King: Dishonor the vanquished! I am the Rat King, unique among the inhabitants of the underworld! Who dares disturb my rest in the embassy?!

Apparently, in your absence, the white worm has been working, and they've even built an embassy for an allied leader. You have to solve this problem quickly; if you take too long, the ice children and the mysterious bloody bonds will catch up to you. Leon turns to you.

Leon: Hank and I will go remove the spikes and kick that clown's ass. Francine, can you convince the king to leave?

Francine: Uh... I... I don't know...

Leon: Or at least distract him until we can help you scare him off. We need to move fast.

You have to decide who you'll go with. Will you fight the clown, or face the Rat King? If you choose the latter, it's important to go with a pre-planned strategy.
Marisa Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5723 es
>>5715
"It hurts..." Flametower can no longer hear it, he doesn't have to keep pretending his heart hurts more than all the burns and blows to his body, because it surely does.

"If I had known how heavy it was, I would have been lifting him instead of looking for weights, I'd be like Chanclón Bamdán by now."

The journey is slow, torturous, and silent. He doesn't want to disturb the silence of the night by talking too much for fear of someone hearing him, so he settles for thinking aloud.

"Limbs are overrated anyway, Flametower. I had extra arms and look how much they helped me. We'll find a bunch of mechanics in 2 when we get there, some will give you tank treads and cannon arms or a chainsaw, so don't worry."

The little robot loses many gears and nuts along the way, too many to stop and pick them up and put them in his pockets, he gives up quickly and only keeps a few.

"This isn't so bad." The cold wind on his face, the solitude of the open space, and the landscape free of visible or audible dangers comfort him. The levels are much more enjoyable when they are just deserted places to wander through than when a spider-woman or an army of ice soldiers are chasing him. If the rest of his excursion is like this, he won't have trouble completing it. But it won't be like this.

>Damn it...

"I'd say the same, if I could scream right now."

No good deed goes unpunished, or something like that. In times like these, he tells himself that he wouldn't be in such a shit situation if he had been a little more of a bastard and only cared about his own well-being, telling everyone to go to hell and sacrificing anyone in his path. It might be because he always had this mentality that people who didn't take full advantage of whoever they could exploit were stupid, so he makes decisions that seem stupid to him when he tries to be a good person. If there's a way to be good and smart, he'll probably die without discovering it, oh well. You either die a good person or live long enough to become a temporary spider monster or whatever.

"At least I don't want to die brutally raped by thugs."

He throws some of Flametower's nuts and gears in one direction, to hear if the noise distracts the lookouts for a second before running in the opposite direction, which would surely make more noise with all the weight he's carrying.

1d50 = 18
Marisa Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5724 pt
>>5723
Luck: -1
Reroll: 1d50 = 10
Marisa Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5725 es
>>5723
I'll spend the 31 on strength to have 62 agility then.
Ashley/Catherine Scapolite-78c6ac No.5726 es
f534094ebf0593b1925c6445e094c0f9398972229f5039066eadd8b1956aac3f.jpg
96 KB 911×1200
e57c7c10ce337f90bf9d0b53ff06d62d192132850b94cbcd041860f42779f00e.jpg
899 KB 1185×1331
a62408d7bc222635e096f5f1a8e49797e2466565025f989eafb232b4744d4d98.jpg
21 KB 165×141
232bf648f033e117e94d926b4b646624c36af6cb70ca39f811cc86c71607f155.jpg
861 KB 2051×1220
>>5709
>Ashley (from the fuuuuture)
Chasing isn't the word. A mouse caught her eye. Where did it come from? Where was it going? Wild life hides things that the unobservant human would never see. Cat observes. Hidden perfectly, perched on a ceiling beam, she honors her name by carefully following the pest.

It was necessary to discover where it was going. No one would want a rat-infested house. She'll probably have to kill it. But she doesn't plan on eating it... she doesn't need food currently. Maybe she won't kill it. But she has to take care of it somehow. She'll finish planning once she finds the nest. Or so she thought until nature was disturbed. Loud bangs on the wood alert the little animal, which bolts, breaking its natural routine. Catherine frowns, she had failed... But how could she have foreseen that?

Without getting off the beam, she looks here, looks there, and even yonder, though she doesn't usually use that last word... and finds no one, nor anything since the mouse abandoned her. She decides to wait a bit, but they don't stop, nor do others arrive, a neutral sigh, indicative of little importance, precedes her descent. She lands, walks, opens the door, and the culprit doesn't stop being noisy. She starts yelling, Catherine looks at the child. He's hurt, and sad. She thinks that even she could scare him with a scream or beat him in strength. Maybe it wouldn't even be necessary for him to be in this state for that.

(But that wouldn't be right.)

It's just a thought. What was the mom yelling?

<"Where is Charmy? Her monster hit my little Timmy."

"I don't know."

She closed the door and left. She hopes that's enough, there's something curious... Redhead, child, Timmy... Child... Tim... Redhead... It's obvious...

"I left the shower running..." -she goes to turn it off. Later she could let Charmy know about this-

>Catherine (faaaar into the fuuuuture)
Playing isn't the word. They play, she shows them what hiding truly is. Well-positioned behind a dresser in a space that seemed very narrow for her big head, she becomes part of the scenery.

If there's one thing she's confident about, it's her ability to hide. Among other things, of course. But remaining hidden is one of the most important principles her father has passed down to her...

...How long has it been since they found her?

It didn't matter. Bang bang bang. Thuds on the door that again, no one answers. Ashley is the least suited for this task, but there's no one else. With a sigh, this time one of complaint, she leaves her hiding spot.

(How many people come and aren't attended to?)

She considers observing that while hidden sometime, setting a schedule and watching this place during the week to see how many people are ignored per day. Maybe that would be funny... or not. But for today, she'll attend.

The scene is similar... But worse. An equally angry woman, a more injured child.

<"That demon you have is out of control! It jumped on my Mickey!"

"..."

<"I-I was just talking about how much I like petting white cats and touching their tails... kuek"

"There are no demons here." -only a mummy once-

She closes the door. Later she'd also get scolded for being so idiotic excessively innocent. Then, after taking a couple of steps away from the door, she stopped...
(Hm...)

She looked thoughtful... Mickey...?

Timmy, Mickey, children, redhead, children, redhead, Mickey, Timmy... White cat...

"I left the shower on..." -no... wait, not that, she shakes her head. This time she closed it- "..."

(Hilda...)

She thinks she recognizes a pattern. She wasn't going to say it out loud... she turns a blind eye and leaves. Although... well, she probably should explain to Hilda that people can share names.

...

Turning a blind eye didn't work. Maybe telling her about the first case was enough, maybe Charmy can find out everything that happens in the house somehow. But Hilda was punished. She had to paint the fence...

"Do you want..."

To weed the wheat...

"...me to..."

Walk the dog, and help bring supplies.

"...help you?"

She asked on each occasion. Knowing she shouldn't, she preferred to lend a hand anyway, she didn't want to leave her alone. Working isn't a problem. As long as it doesn't worsen Hilda's situation, of course.

Even if she couldn't help her, she could keep her company. When she was free from the tasks Charmy assigned her, she wandered around the place and accompanied her at least in spirit. She greeted her if there weren't many people around because she still doesn't like talking much to others, and sometimes she just watched her, like that time she saw her writing. Or she did until she also went into the classroom to talk to her.

"Do you want me to help you?"

She asks, although this time it's difficult. The handwriting of both must be as easy to differentiate as night and day. Catherine hangs from a beam again, only held by her legs, upside down as she talks to Hilda.

"Were you called a 'monster'?" -well yes- "you're not." -I'd die holding that-

She tilts her head. She looks a bit curious in a Spiderman pose.

"Why did you do it?"

Because they deserved it. That's possible, she didn't know them...

"Ah."

She thought that... no, she almost abandoned a question. Catherine doesn't usually do that.

"Hilda... Did you know two people can have the same name?"

She must know... Right?

Yes or no, apparently she'll be visiting level 5 soon. Go figure why... it's not like Catherine feels like meeting anyone, but... we'll see.

...

>Ashley (present)
<Thank you to you!

"...Huh?" -she recalculates for a second, her wires got crossed by the weirdness of backroom communication-

<Do you want the lobotomy too? It's only ten minutes... Yeah, I didn't believe it the first time either, what I saw.

...she glances at the image.

"No."

Too many reasons to refuse to list them. Even if she wanted a metal rod shoved in her eye, she wouldn't let her do it. Besides, she doesn't need it. What she does need is to know how Hilda is doing, so she gets down to ask her.

<I still feel ugly. It'll pass, I know, being with you everything feels... Better.

They hold hands. Ashley doesn't need to say anything, she gives her a smile with which she swears her loyalty. If being together will make her feel better... she can do it. Help heal her.

<I know how to fix it!

She did have something to say, Catherine looks at her, her smile fading. Dora is pushed aside. Luckily, Ashley also prefers this solution.

1/3
Ashley/Catherine Scapolite-78c6ac No.5727 es
c584829eb3e480c9db36839d9a1b74fb1949fbfeb5155ed8cbdce2c05930502b.jpg
142 KB 529×620
e2eef2c5aad0354b5259d8c40f1d6f898e2c76a598355fd13d0468721a9e10ee.jpg
1.99 MB 3464×3464
>>5711
>Ashley
Is put under the light of doubt... More or less. The interrogation is just one question, and, although Catherine remains prickly, Charmy is calm.

<Curious, with my parents it was the other way around, they taught me to seek the truth.

"I already knew how to tell the truth."

It wasn't necessary to teach her that. Despite the image she's giving the leader, Hilda could see beyond and notice that Catherine can be very authentic. Even with her constant attempts to remain expressionless, her emotions usually show through. And, then it's easy to know many things. For example, if she doesn't like you, you'll realize it in an instant.

<You have my word. In certain circles, it's worth more than gold.

"...thanks."

That's all it took for the cat to sing like a little bird. Charmy takes this as someone who is tired of repeated pranks by a single individual. Why could that be?

<I'll have a talk with her.

"But... I trusted your word..." :<

<I said a talk, not a punishment. You two seem close.

"..."

She neither confirms nor denies. She tries to remain neutral, as usual.

<I never expected that, well... that Hilda would become so infatuated with someone else.

"...'Infatuated'?" - she asks normally. What was she referring to?-

They eye her. She doesn't flinch, from head to toe she's an almost normal girl. White as snow, except of course for her beautiful emerald eyes.

<You're not trying to trick her, are you?

Therein lies the first flicker of emotion that filters through her serenity. Upon hearing that, she frowns a little, at the same time as she replies.

"No."

Direct and very serious. Even offended. Although... how much is the albino's word worth to Charmy after confessing she knows how to lie? Her little face returns to normal as soon as she can minimize the annoyance. She loves Hilda... or... she adores her. That's why she keeps that flower that bothers her. Love hurts kek

<Throw it away when you go out. Those plants can cause you psychosis or something worse.

"Oh..." - well, that's too bad... she'll tell Hilda it was an order, she'll surely understand-

<They come from a bad place.

"It's dangerous to sell them." - she affirms based on what she understands, so why do they do it?-

<Here, a didactic sample.

"Hm?"

<Just don't concentrate too much, you could suffer from monochromatic insanity.

"...I don't know what that is."

They hand her a... thing, in addition to... squares with lenses. Catherine doesn't understand anything, she takes the latter and tries to look through them, as well as in all directions, trying to decipher them. She sniffs one, it doesn't smell like anything... she doubts if putting it in her mouth would be a good idea. Charmy explains.

"Hm...?"

She approaches the indicated object, the first apparatus. The big one, Ashley looks at it from all directions, her head becomes the natural satellite of the thing... Until she finds the part where the piece that holds it seems to fit. Catherine stops, takes out the little square, and inserts it...

Now what?

<take a look through the photosensitive squares where your big eyes go.

"...?"

She takes the apparatus, brings it to her eyes.

"Ohh" - she is greatly surprised, but that and the following is all she will hear as proof of it- "it's like a photograph in my eyes..." - or something like that- "...What am I seeing?"

It reminds her of one of the precarious houses she saw once in the middle of the forest. Nothing special... but apparently, it was that Sh4dy Gr3y.

"...it looks like an abandoned little house."

Charmy has to change the image or Catherine would stay there like a dummy looking for more things of interest until she goes crazy. Now she sees... god of Begotten? Something?

"...What am I seeing?" - she asks, sounding clearly more interested in this one than the previous one- "it looks like... an entity bleeding?"

Next. There wasn't much to see, but the story has a background.

"Oh."

That... is not good.

<Now it's a golden compass.
"What is that?" -the impact is greatly reduced without context-

They ask her for the device, she finally takes it off her eyes and hands it over.

"...cool..."

That's her description, a word Hilda taught her. She likes the technology, both musical and visual, that they just showed her. It's impressive. And she hasn't even been able to use a computer and see everything they can do yet. What she doesn't like is blaming Hilda; it made her want to lie. But...

<A deal goes both ways, Catherine.

It's true. She had to comply... so she proceeds to confess. Hilda's role as the mastermind, and hers as the loyal accomplice. She doesn't press charges, there's no resentment. Quite the opposite, the journey helped them understand each other a little better, a task they'd been seeking since their first day together.

<Alright, if there are no complaints from your end, I suppose that's all for now.

"None." -in case any shadow of doubt remained-

That's all to conclude. With nothing more to put on the table, she makes space by discarding the orange peels. Catherine thinks they might be useful since they are farmers, but those potential uses die with the cold and snow. It's not the season for cultivating.

<Anything else you want to talk about, Catherine?

"..." -maybe she has something... a couple of things, in fact. But two become three with what the leader says-

<Are you still interested in leaving for a place where you'd fit in better?

"Huh?" -it's a big question- "..." -she looks away, appearing thoughtful- "hm..." -she looks up- "Do you always go around with your little dog?" -she'll kick the question down the road, evading it by avoiding awkward silences and thinking noises, responding with another question- "...Does he help you?" -likely- "With everything?" -maybe- "Fighting?" -possibly- "Do you think I could do the same?"

Hilda compared her to Doggo. That's where the idea was born.

"Not with you..." -in case of confusion- "...but... I'd like to help like that." -weird... to be like a dog? Catherine sees it as feasible, she's tried imitating animals before. Without much success... but she doesn't give up-

After that, she has another question. Something that's been bothering her for a while.

"...What's wrong with me?"

The question comes out of nowhere and might be strange. What's wrong with her? That she's in love could be an answer. But she wasn't referring to that; she's less a child trying to understand herself and more a patient demanding results from the doctor.

"...for this time. You said you'd ask..." -the guide is bringing things closer to what she meant- "the rift in the air... when... everything froze. Do you know what happened...?"

That's what she meant. It's just that's her way of speaking.

...

After discussing everything, Catherine decides to leave. They say their goodbyes, she gets off the stool and grips the doorknob between her fingers. The pending question she avoided earlier hangs in the air, but it feels more like a thorn in her neck. Something that's always there, impossible not to feel, and that she'd eventually have to remove.

She can't say she hasn't thought about it. Her lifestyle wasn't what she has today, staying in the same place. With many more people... fleeing at some point was her idea since she arrived. But that conflicted with certain situations, and eventually with feelings that are stronger than ever today.

She never had a guide for these. No one to talk about it with. She'd been learning on her own... or... well, alongside the one with whom she developed them.

...she stood there for a moment, at the door, thinking precisely about this. Not even the previous conversation gave her enough time to answer.

But it was decided... she has to give an answer now.

"..." -she looks at Charmy- "I think... I'll stay here."

She answers. She doesn't need another level... She's fine on one with her. Now she just needs to communicate it to the one who would most like to know... and here she goes. Catherine leaves the office.

2/3
Ashley/Catherine Scapolite-78c6ac No.5728 es
6340ab559b22522cf94fb0ff75769e4a4579d2567c917f58bcdbfaba9a347aee.gif
2.87 MB 640×362
14b684bd0e85cc8091edfdc8c0f956056fdcdbdbfc8b9d3ac168cdb71feafcd0.gif
342 KB 165×278
837ac924e9443eed4fa2978218f0bcfefd29df65f99f145b1f0c4ba1350a3b3b.jpg
344 KB 1866×2257
20a3f18bee484555537c9ee31c593415433081886408e49fcc712ebf41a06592.gif
71 KB 220×245
spoiler
440 KB 1219×2037 spoiler
>>5714
This post is a forced second re-roll. I would be left with 1 luck.
>Ashley
...and on the other side there's no one.

"...Hilda?"

Nothing. Not on one side, nor the other. The only thing accompanying her in the hallway is silence, and a weapon that serves as a clue. Catherine approaches itI don't know if I would take it, but whatever, it's possible and after observing it for a moment, taking it for what it is: a clue, she decides to hold it.

She holds it before her with outstretched arms. The blade obstructs her view of the wall. It's a weapon, no doubt. She doesn't think about anything else, she'd never had anything like it. This is made to hurt, to kill. Similar to the knife, but not. She didn't see herself using this to cut her food, or a rope, only to deliver a violent attack. The sword is a weapon, the knife a tool.

Why did she pick it up? She's not sure, it could have been something she did subconsciously. A dormant desire to wield a real weapon, a desire she didn't even know she had, but now with the blade in her hands... well... she really can't think of anything other than the sword of the sun. Having a weapon in hand is fun.

Or so it would be, if it weren't for the fact that as she rotates it from the hilt to discover the secrets of its steel, if it has any, her fingers somehow undo the fabric that protects it and brush against the handle, changing its place from its foundations to make it nothingness itself.

"Uh...?"

A dry wind hit her in a strong gust, Catherine raised her arms to cover her face from it as she caught up with everything...

She was alone. Under a bright and almost empty sky. Being lost, and very confused by the change, she looked around. Nothing. She looked up. She didn't find Polaris anywhere, and she wasn't familiar with other sky lights.

"What happened...?"

She doesn't understand, but at the same time she does. Or at least she thinks so.

"Did I change levels...?"

She's already somewhat familiar with such a situation, but this time she didn't walk in any direction to trigger the change. How funny fate is, that when she decided to stay she ended up in nothingness.

"Hilda..."

She murmurs with regret. But she shakes her head, trying to focus. It's not a good idea to stay in place.

"I must move... I must move." -she repeats to make it clear-

It was all so sudden... But she must suppress the discomfort if she wants to reunite with her to tell her she didn't want to leave. That she doesn't want to leave. Therefore, it would be a good idea to avoid dying from exposure to nature.

She needs some kind of shelter, she starts by walking forward. There's no preference for direction this time... but the sand wasn't firm, it crumbled under her feet and the girl fell, gasping in surprise before rolling to the ground.

"Nf..."
Snorts through her nose, she prepares to get up, but her big eyes widen in fright at the sight of shadows and she feels that internal desire to escape again. She attends to it, darting away as fast as she can, but the beasts, anticipated her anticipated escape, and with their appendages they act as shackles. Catherine is lifted into the air. And she struggles anyway.

"GRR!"

Her face changes completely upon seeing these things. She looks confused.

"Octopuses?"

<Well, well, look what chance brought us.

She returns to anger. She squirms, struggles, ignoring the words they say to her.

"GRR!" -she growls, she won't show the fear they want to see, when she has no other choice, the cornered kitten fights-

<If only Hilda would let us see what's happening outside.
<A thief! She surely tried! And what a surprise she got!

That wasn't how it was! But there's no time for corrections, the tentacle gropes her soft skin, resisting no matter how much she tugs with her legs. And another prevents her from speaking by trying to force itself into her mouth. It seals her lips, she tries to avoid them.

The disadvantage was clear...

Her heart beat fast.

Her breathing was irregular.

Her skin bristled.

And her forehead was covered in sweat.

She was scared...

But luckily, she had already tried raw fish.

She opened her mouth and showed them that whatever entered it would be lost. She bit, this time giving THE bite, burying her teeth with all the strength her jaws could exert on that single tentacle.

(If I were a crocodile...)

She used the strength of her whole body to try to twist horizontally, from left to right.

(I would bite hard and not let go. I wouldn't let go.)

Trying to cause the most pain. She wouldn't let go, she would give it her all, imitating the lethal twist of a crocodile as best she could in her limited position.

(But I'm not a crocodile...)

(I can only... Do this...)

It was a desperate fight to lose. She felt like crying, because even if one of these octopuses suffered, she was at the mercy of the other two. She squeezed her eyes shut almost as hard as her teeth to hold back tears. She's going to die... it's almost certain she's going to die. She doesn't want to die. She really doesn't want to die... Especially not in a place like this. Not without Hilda ever knowing what happened.

roll dice I guess

1d50 = 8 screw it, 50 energy to strength kek, she's supposed to be trying her hardest for this.
Agility: roll 20

Ahem. Ackshually Ashley WILLIAMS

>no, it's quite evident what will happen
I don't know if you mean she's going to be saved or raped

>Also, in a bad end doujinshi, in the anti-verse Marie encountered the sun sword instead of the moon
Well... I see kek
I also see Marie as narratively more violable than Cat, OP.
A-although I hope it doesn't happen
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5729 es
2d722046e546cf56555dafe412dbc6bafb4e5f33c51d8473248e57537550a5da.webp
17 KB 720×505
ece143483264a1ff74c6b629d31c62e8b6e2930fa061d496929ff373deef17e0.jpg
182 KB 736×911
d7825c60d762dcd32b5753132cf2dd18ce2c512e77b21fbb720ed9bdaf18fcf7.gif
1.03 MB 400×267
853f3bbb186d26c059c4d032a76f30e5ea91a55ff01bd68648522e27b82a01f8.jpg
513 KB 2048×1688
>>5716
>Booohhh! you deleted the bad ending, coward
Blame Irene.

<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, Hour 8)
HP: 95/100
Energy: 50/50
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 19/20
-Strength: 11x2
-Agility: 10x2
-Endurance: 11x2 + 10 Reinforced Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 4/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Brayan
Magnum Revolver (2/6. Damage x3, Priority +2)
Kitchen Knife (+3 damage. Corroded)
Abilities:
Werewolf (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.

Level 21
You throw the skull towards where the darkness is deepest, you hear the cracking of bone against cement, and dozens of pieces falling on the carpet. Shortly after, you hear another crunch but closer, caused by the impact of the albino's knuckles against your respirator. The air device sinks and hurts your snout, knocking you back onto the bed. The metal mesh under the mattress bends and creaks.

Polar: Do you recognize me now? More of an idiot every day, Martin. Be thankful I walked halfway across the city to pick you up, and that with tired feet I'm not going to kick your ass.

???: Sir... Are we leaving now?

A voice adds from the doorway, which is where the little light illuminating the room comes from. Under the frame is a boy made of wood holding an oil lantern in one hand. He seems more attentive to the lantern than to you, surely because the slightest mistake would risk him catching fire.

Polar: The brat's name is Junior, he knows the city better than anyone, which alleys to take, which to avoid. I found him on a bus after escaping my captivity at the hands of some damn bikers, long story.

A buzzing reaches them from the hallway...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tp0k6VDXUOQ
The giant moth appears flying headfirst and lands on the boy's back, who becomes paralyzed like a statue, his rigid features contorted in terror.

Junior: If I- if I don't move, I'm invisible...

Polar: I doubt that works. Shoo, shoo! Get out! Use it!

The ninja waves his hands. The moth takes off and flutters around the room, crashes into the walls, and spits a stream of acid against the wall. The cement melts and the creature flies away into the icy night.

Radiohead's speakers continue to play despite the lack of electricity https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FXozwCdSLb0
Junior leads the way with the lantern. Polar holds a golf club in both hands as if it were a katana. You are in the middle, staggering, still with foggy thoughts due to your long sleep. The walkways and stairs they traverse have railings with a clear view of the boarded-up main entrance, where white hands and lifeless eyes are ramming from the outside, points illuminated by an spectral blue.

The rooftop door has a sheet of paper on it that reads: SPACE RENTED FOR SPECIAL RITUAL. PLEASE DO NOT DISTURB. Polar kicks it open anyway, they don't have much else to go, they already heard the mournful rumble of the main doors giving way and the rush of ice entering, stepping, tearing. Radiohead is unlikely to be harmed, it's not a biological creature like you.
It's snowing, the flakes weigh like metal shavings. The city is just a jumble of dark needles, among which a white giant stirs with dozens of white shadows running between its plump legs. An army of walkers floods the metropolis.

Polar: I wish we had something to rip our stomachs open with and leave with honor.

The wooden boy lowers his head and looks at himself.

Junior: I don't have a stomach, Mr. Polar.

Polar: My brother can give you some of his. He has plenty to spare.

In the sky, silent lightning shakes the clouds, so high that the colorful ejected lights struggle to illuminate. In one second you glimpse a pair of membranous wings; The next, a man with his arms outstretched as if embracing the world; The next, a colossal eyeball; The next... Nothing clear, it's too much chaos, too blurry.

In the center of the rooftop lies a wicker effigy adorned with Christmas balls, three meters high. Kneeling before the shapeless altar that looks like half a man, is a subject shouting poems at the firmament.

Behold! Death has erected a throne,
in a strange city that rises, solitary,
far away, in the gloomy west, where
the good and the bad, the worst and the best
have gone to eternal peace. There the temples,
the palaces and the towers—towers eaten away
by time, and that never tremble—do
not resemble ours in any way. Around them,
forgotten by the winds that never stir them
ever resigned under the heavens, lie the
melancholy waters.

The man's face is covered by bandages, eyes tattooed on the little skin he shows, and his red and black clothes are those of a carnival vagabond. The bandage is also marked with ink eyes. The wind seems to rumble to the rhythm of his words.

Polar: His name is Wesker, the mad town crier who foretells the end of the world. The radio introduced him to us.

Polar comments as he pulls a crumpled cigarette and a half-empty lighter he got from a dumpster on the way to pick you up out of his pocket. He lights it and smokes.

Polar: ...

Your supposed brother's gaze follows Wesker's activities. It's not like he had another plan, the idea was to come rescue you, but then everything started to go wrong until he ended up kneeling to certain death. Watching Wesker pour gasoline on the effigy and himself seemed better than falling into despair.

Junior: We can drag that thing (The effigy) to the door (Of the rooftop) and buy time... I-I think.

Polar shrugs. He goes to Wesker, touches his back with a finger to get his attention, and shares the boy's idea. The town crier scratches his chin, looks at Polar, looks at Junior, looks at you, then looks at the sky as if waiting for a sign of divine displeasure... Receiving none, he nods.

Polar: Help me move it, Martin. And while you're at it, think of something, see if you can come up with a way out of this, asshole.

The albino rolls up his sleeves.
Palacios Sugilite-1aba04 No.5730 es
>>5729

On top of that, you go and blame someone else, how sneaky, how low of you, what a coward All this time, if I'm in the past, shouldn't you return the 6 points of strength, agility, and stamina you stole from me? >>103010 >>102845

"You come here, act tough, and then you back down. Come on, if you're gonna..."

He gets out of bed, runs a hand over his snout, and tries to act tough, fully intending to fight his clone. A third voice catches his attention, and he finds a half-finished Pinocchio. Nothing to be surprised about, but since neither of them is attacking him anymore, he moves on, seeing that they are more distracted by the moth.

"Hey, you! The one with the radio, are you still there! Do you have what you told me you were going to give me!?"

While they are busy with their own things, he takes care of his business. He looks at the ceiling, puts his hands on his face to create more echo, and starts shouting to the four winds to claim what was promised to him. He's not very hungry now, but a deal is a deal, and he'd rather have plenty than nothing later.

"You were a ninja, weren't you? Let me see, according to you, am I one too?"

Polar's mannerisms and speech gradually bring back memories. He vaguely remembers meeting him and that he spouted nonsense about his ninja brother and who knows how many other stories. At the time, he didn't pay attention, and now he's not going to give it much importance either, knowing he's an only child. But, now that he's thinking about it, there's something that piques his curiosity. If, according to him, they are brothers, who knows if from another dimension or if it's just schizophrenia, then it means he should be able to learn a ninja trick or two if he doesn't already have them and doesn't know it.

"Got a smoke?"

As apocalyptic as the sky looked, it didn't elicit more of a reaction from him than staring at it for a while. He'd say he even prefers this view to the cloudy, snowy sky he was used to. It's not that different from the auroras he saw before when he was wandering around the level of the little houses; the only difference is that now the lights are taking shape. In his mental ranking of skies, he'd put it in the top 3, as long as you ignore the other things down below. While he's distracted by the clouds, he sees his not-brother with a cigarette and asks for one.

"What are you telling me? Wasn't the kid the one who knew how to get around here? You'd better do as he says. Martin Emilios Palacios, by the way, nice to meet you."

Between everything he's messed up and the fact that he's actually been on this level for less than a day, he's the least capable of making plans. Especially if they require knowledge of the place, because he has zero idea about that. Now, if you tell him to invent something to fight, maybe he could come up with a way to do it seeing the people he's with. But again, he just woke up and is unaware of anything that has happened, which could well describe his whole life now that he thinks about it. Anyway, he ends up helping move the effigy and, while he's at it, introduces himself to the two newcomers like a normal person.
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5731 es
0c8957b7ddc4964d14738507ed92eedf2dd42587c0c08303cdd63126a691b7b6.jpg
56 KB 736×898
b67cce71b2fca1f2538b3e2f5a49de2f83eda2f43e06754e68e581ed33a34e12.png
216 KB 459×544
>>5719
>>5720
>>5721
>Marie was only in BNTG for a week
Correct me if I'm wrong. Between level 7's return and the move to level 10, there was an indeterminate amount of time, right? Or am I messing with my own canon? kek.

<Marie Griffin (Day 52, Hour 12)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 66/70
Hunger: 18/21 - Thirst 18/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 10
-Resistance: 16 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Super-Cell (On. Charge 12/16)
Joseph's Charger
Piece of bar filled with moth jelly (4/4)
-Pink backpack 6/10
Pencil
Notebook
Contaminated water bottle (15/15)
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White cat headband

Level 92
Poems. They're too cheesy for modern sensibilities, but your crush doesn't see them badly. For her, they're another sign of affection she can come to appreciate, like songs, hugs, bonsais, etc. Restraints, however, she does not.

Dark, like you, did the unthinkable to have Luz. Even though Moon explained to you that Anti-Luz didn't disappear but merged with Luz because they both possessed the same soul, what you did still bothered you, an itch you were unable to scratch.

Moon (From the past): A black wolf and a white wolf inhabit one being... The one that is better fed wins.

A well-known analogy that your liberal side identified as extremely racist. But you got from it that Luz's goodness is superior to Anti-Luz's evil. With that brunette who drives you crazy, it would be wrong to mistake her gentleness for weakness.

Luz: Yes, 16. She hides her age very well.

Even after what Amity did to her, Luz decided to forgive her and believe that the backrooms had driven her mad. It doesn't change that the event was a delicate experience, an anecdote exclusively for her soulmate and her most trusted person (after Momo). You stroke her hair, trying to calm her down; it works, you feel her settle and relax. With her back to you, her head on your lap and her hands near her heart, she smiles at you.

Luz: I know.

She lifts her head and rubs the tip of her nose against yours.

Luz: I know.

You repeat it to yourself, never to her.

...

Level 37
Alone, but not entirely alone. The origin of the contradiction is your new and loyal sword companion. With your mouth and nose covered by your sleeve, you open the darkness with your phone's light and advance.

Lunita: Did you want...? Did you want her to touch you like that? Really? Ooh... Why?

Among the shadows, you find an unexpected threat: It's called an awkward conversation.

Lunita: But you were crying, and, and, you were out of breath, and, and, you were screaming, and, and, you fainted like twice!

You can almost see her shaking her tentacles in the air.

You don't remember being indiscreet or rolling around the house like wild animals, but Lunita's gaze is different from yours; from the blade, she sees in 360 degrees, so it wouldn't be strange if she glimpsed some flailing from the encounter and mistook it for some kind of aggression.
Lunita: If you say it's okay, I'll believe you, Marie.

Fortunately, she doesn't insist on the topic anymore. Now you only have to worry about what awaits you further ahead. First, a chair attached by its legs to the dirty ceramic ceiling. You imagine a meme for Lunita to see too. She does more than that, she participates and invades your thought bubble, walking in her octopus (or squid) form, taking the place of the fat guy and spinning in the seat until she ends up vomiting too. Lunita's vomit is silver, just like the blade.

The intercom startles you. The bad interference makes the conversation fleeting. The mission: Find Luz and avoid the dark zone. Or so it was until you notice an alarming detail around you.

Lunita: It... It might mean a DARKER part.

You know your sword is just being naive, so you keep going to escape the gloom.

You move through the hallway, the water level rising step by step until it covers your feet. Wet socks and shoes, discomfort +100. The hallway opens up, and with your flashlight, you scan the ceramic arches. You continue until you stop upon seeing a ladder on the ceiling that goes up a circular duct. It's five meters above the ground, too high.

Lunita: Marie, over there, something's shining.

You're not clear on the direction Luna is looking, but a sweep of the area is enough to catch the distant source of the light. You head towards it, and about twenty steps further, you find some gloves floating, ten steps more: a scarf, ten steps more: a sock: ten steps more: a bloody top and shorts, five steps more: a tied belt, three steps more: a flashlight. You might think of grabbing it, but the pale, severed hand attached to it might give you pause. It stinks of decomposition.

Lunita: See the cut marks? They're from teeth... H-human teeth, I mean. Possibly the person did it to themselves. Good news.

What Luna means is that for now, there's no monster.

1/?

>I apologize for writing so much
Don't apologize, I read everything you write with a smile. I hope my approach of avoiding excessive detail in scenes doesn't make you feel the opposite. Also, sorry if I sometimes imply certain actions; I mention this because I saw you weren't convinced when I had Cat grab Hilda's sword.

>more busty
I'm sorry to inform you that Robin is pansexual... Yes, bread turns her on! Kek, no. But if her beloved were made of bread... The point is that Robin would be one of those characters who would be labeled woke today because she could basically fall in love with anyone as long as they were the right person. Even your underage autistic waifu... Or Owen... Or a tentacle beast from the eighth dimension! I guess Robin would say something like it doesn't matter what the mold is, it's the content that counts. Even so, I feel like she'd beat a monster with a stick as soon as she saw it, I don't know.
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5732 es
7cf6d286ab384f4812b68362f70d6ac5df4d86d8712bf6a442976af50b28c527.jpg
21 KB 512×512
f630f988c31a12e990cbf9dba27b9cabf77fb2c0c255f3a6ad9bb6e747fb2719.jpg
3 KB 168×300
c77b130c5f7ad7051eec632ba5d5bf0c980c1df52c4436c6be33ee04ccc7952a.png
904 KB 1366×768
81cf56d660de7013f9ec7ee73d9dd0063f760564b4ba5a47a539f56454ce391b.png
1.89 MB 1366×768
7fffe85073dfefd65db50b5f9d2aac759c30b05d175ba304d9017df555a63fe1.jpg
45 KB 323×314
>>5731
<Marie Griffin (Day 52, Hour 14)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 64/70
Hunger: 16/21 - Thirst 16/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 16 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Super-Cell (On. Charge 10/16)
Joseph's Charger
Piece of Moth Jelly Filled Bar (4/4)
-Pink Backpack 6/10
Pencil
Notebook
Contaminated Water Bottle (15/15)
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White Cat Headband

Level 37
With the help of a metal railing, you get out of the water with soaked calves. Caution is paramount, one wrong step and you could slip face-first onto the ceramic. You bring the cell phone you jealously protected from moisture closer, check the battery level, and try to contact Luz. You only hear static... You're still far away.

You arrive at a new chamber. A checkered pool lies in the middle, a plastic float rests on the surface. The water is crystal clear, the pool has no bottom. You can rest here for a moment, the air is less stale, and there's a light panel on the ceiling. A small space for peace before returning to the gloom.

You reach another area with ceramic arches, but this time you allow yourself to walk on a walkway raised a meter above the water, a victory for your feet. You sweep the scene with your flashlight, catching a white smudge out of the corner of your eye, you could swear it was a face. You look back, managing to see a long silhouette sliding away from you, like the silhouette of a snake. Is it your imagination?

When you were despairing from so much darkness, you turned a corner and found the end of the darkpools, the threshold was a perfect white square against the darkness. The excitement almost made you speed up, but since you hate running by pools, you just walk...

Good decision, slipping would have been a tremendous mistake.

The wind moves your ponytail and the clarity blinds you. Only 10 meters of ground separate you from a long fall into an infinite sea. As the saying goes: "On level 7, life is tastier." You might try to spot a ship with your eyes, but it's too much ocean for your glasses, what you do manage to glimpse are towers that defy the sky, possibly belonging to another level.

Luz (Intercom): "Psztt... Sweetie, can you hear me...? We've recovered the signal. We're getting closer. Keep doing what you're doing, it's working. I'll continue with my part. Muack... Did you hear that? I sent you a kiss. For good luck. Muack, another one in case the first one didn't reach you. Over."

You look to the right: An infinite row of thresholds. To the left: The landscape repeats itself, with the difference that there's an old man on the edge. Short, bald, big-nosed, with abnormally large eyes and feet, wearing a striking golden robe. In one hand he holds a metal bucket and in the other a fishing rod with a very, very long line... So long that you can swear it reaches the sea below.

You can talk to him. Or not, and continue on your own, since testing which path Luz's signal reaches better is a good way to know where to go. At first glance, the old man looks harmless, but if he's capable of coming so calmly to such a high level, you assume he's not normal.

2/2
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5733 es
2afb4ea7eb5fc9d058fd9bdc4ebb91d11ebdf82b4b68f923430bf809c99bcd0d.jpg
406 KB 850×2267
spoiler
51 KB 1920×1080 spoiler
>>5723
<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, Hour 10
HP: 30/80
Energy: 46/100
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 19/21
-Strength: 8 + 7 Leverage
-Agility: 10 - 5 Stellar orange coat - 20 Flametower-18K,
-Resistance: 10 + 5 Stellar orange coat
-Luck: 0
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Trinkets
Trinkets
Trinkets
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
Trying not to make noise, you make your way through the abnormally tall stalks of wheat. More than once Flametower's circuits get caught and you have to pull, but little by little you manage to cover distance.

Voices. Cruel men's voices. Alert and with goosebumps, you study your options. For a moment your gaze clashes with the entrance to the burrow...

A version of you that decided to be selfish, sneaked in there leaving Flame's remains to their fate. That other you crawled through the dirt and worms, scratching your little legs and arms on the buried pebbles, and finally plunged into a darkness that led you to a circle of grass perfectly lit, as if under a spotlight.

You lost consciousness and upon waking you didn't know who you were nor could you form words. You were found by rangers and taken to a white hospital. They healed you, wrapping your bruises with bandages, but when asked who you were or where your parents were, the other you only stammered one letter: "M... M... M..."

With nothing else to do, you were left in the care of an orphanage, a beautiful European-style building where you spent the next year and learned to speak using the language that the rest of the world around you used. One day a couple, a man in a hat and elegant suit, and a woman in a long dress, arrived looking for an adorable girl and became infatuated with her.

They adopted her and took her to their mansion, where she was cared for and pampered, given all the food she wanted, because little Labiata (Her new name) ate as if she feared running out of food in her belly. She also didn't leave her house, because she saw shadows and corners as if they contained monsters waiting for her. Over the years Labiata grew and grew, getting so fat that she was unable to leave her own bed.

One afternoon Labiata closed her eyes for a moment, trying to recall fragments of her cloudy and distant past. When she opened them again, the ceiling was different.

You act...

You throw a few pieces (Trinkets) as far as you can. One of the men says...

"Huh...?"

And looks in the direction of the noise.

This is your moment!
You run in the opposite direction. The beams of the flashlights turn towards you, the light seeping through the wheat stalks.

Troy: Hey!

The bulk of the patrolmen think it was just a scarecrow or a noise, but the leader decides to run after you. You hear the others asking him to come back, but mostly you hear the wheat rustling behind you. Your chest hurts, your little legs burn, Flame pricks your back, and to top it all off... You fall face-first.

Troy: Where did you go, little girl? Show yourself. I won't hurt you.

With your face full of black dirt, you turn your body and look back. You glimpse Troy's silhouette walking to the left, pointing his flashlight resting on his rifle.

Troy: This field is dangerous... There are monsters here. You must be hungry and cold. Come on, I'll take you to town where you'll be safe.

You remain silent and still, taking advantage of the fact that he doesn't seem to notice you. He's moving away, good. You can let out the air you were holding in reflex. You lean back on the frozen ground, the release of tension is such that you could fall asleep.

Alondra (Intercom): "Testing, testing, does anyone receive me?"

A loud buzz replies from Flametower's inert head.

Alondra (Intercom): "The plan to go against the world alone went terribly, I'm in a cell at the police station now. They say the mayor has a plan, but I'm not sure. Anyway, if you hear me, stay calm, everything will be fine."

You hear "everything will be fine" at the same time that Troy parts the stalks and appears three steps away from you, giving you a smile that implies anything but good intentions.

Troy: Wow... You're so cute... I like it.

But your eyes are not on him, but on the silent shadow rising behind him. Arms with hanging folds frame Troy's head with their thick hands. The palms close firmly.

A wet crunch. Bloody spray soaks your front and an eyeball bounces off your forehead. Troy's body falls to his knees, now on his neck is a mess of flesh, bone, and gray matter. The corpse ends up on its side and forms a thick puddle. Finally, you can see that the killer is a shapeless, obese mass dressed as a chef, with folds that make his face look half-melted. A monster.

Unknown hands pull you and separate you from the ground. By instinct, you struggle, no one wants to end up like Troy.

???: Ouch, girl, hold still. Keep your voice down.

You face the assailant's face (Open spoiler). Black, old, with one eye bigger than the other. It seems like everything is going to get worse.
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5734 es
8d97b8bafb6055779b1cc4469102b2b2ce7710b40fd5982e0c8b7a7d5dcf2039.jpg
65 KB 670×1191
>>5726
>>5727
>>5728
<Catherine Hills (Day 17. Hour 17)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 67/70
Hunger: 15/20 - Thirst: 16/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4
-Luck: 3 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Liminal Dictionary
Pencil
Notebook

Level 10
Brush up, brush down. She let you choose the color for the fence...

Hilda: No.

She shakes her sword, the abnormally tall wheat stalks fall to the ground. Grubs -with circular, toothed mouths, 16cm long and 2cm thick- emerge to devour the remains like land piranhas. For some reason you can't grasp, Hilda grabs some, rolls them up, and stuffs them into her pockets...

Hilda: The leader said I have to do everything myself. All you, Hilda (She imitates Charmy's voice).

They wait, sitting on a bale of hay next to the house that sells ice cream. It's a house like any other in the fields of level 10, but the family that lives there got an ice cream machine and started a business. Despite the cold, Hilda swore to you that the dessert is worth it, and tasting it is a good pastime while Doggo finishes his business in the wheat.

Hilda: If she finds out you helped me, I'll have to do everything all over again, and you too!

Meaning, I'd end up in the situation of doing all those chores but together (What's so bad about that?). A happy old lady appears from the house with two ice cream cones, one white (Vanilla) and another light blue (Bubblegum). Hilda waits for you to choose the flavor that appeals to you most, then pays with bullets she got from selling the grubs as bait in town.

Hilda: Licks Licks How's yours...?

Without waiting for an answer, she brings her face closer and desecrates your dessert with a swipe of her tongue. You move your wrist and contemplate the straight line that breaks the creamy spiral folds.

Hilda: Not bad. Try mine.

She offers the cone and waits for you to pass her the microbes.

Doggo is taking too long, Hilda decides to go look for him. They get off the hay, pass about 15 meters of wheat, make their way through until they stop due to strange sounds. Giggles, barks... Hilda squints and gestures for you to stay behind her. They head towards the noises and, parting two stalks, they see it.
Doggo is on top of a girl with lush purple hair, licking her face while she laughs and kicks. The past slobbery licks lessen their cadence, and the stranger casts an affectionate glance at the dog's silly, cross-eyed face. Hilda doesn't quite know what's going on, but this vibe that's brewing isn't normal! She plucks a bunch of wheat stalks and uses them to prod the stranger.

Hilda: Hey! Back! Get out!

The stranger recoils and flees, flailing her arms, terrified. Doggo is safe. You always have to be careful, you never know what kind of vermin you'll find in the backrooms.

...

The world is upside down. It's nothing paranormal, it's the house beams that offer you that different perspective. Hilda continues with what's dictated on the blackboard, she rejects your help for reasons you already know. She takes a step back, moves the chalk between her fingers, and contemplates the lines. Since she didn't study the space well, she kept reducing the size of the letters until they were barely understandable.

Hilda: Monster? Yes, sometimes... Outsiders are idiots. But it doesn't affect me anymore, I discovered that monsters are great, and that I only have to care about the people I love... Like you.

Two people can have the same name, you worry that Hilda doesn't know that. She turns, doesn't find you. She raises her face, discovers you.

Hilda: I know, but I didn't want to risk it. I hate it when they mess with what is...

Her tongue dances between her lips. She decides to rephrase the sentence.

Hilda: With you.

She lowers her face and scratches the back of her neck. There's a doubt growing in Hilda, specifically an unknown about what they are now. Friends, or something more? It's still not clear to her. Like Marie, Hilda is inexperienced in the matter. But there's a difference, Hilda noticed that Marie is succeeding at everything! Almost as if an invisible power were guiding the nerd (Light). What does the redhead know? What's her secret? How can she get it out of her so Catherine can be happy? These are the questions the bully asks herself.

Hilda decides she'll pay Marie a visit these days, and discover the secret formula.

1/?
Rolero Alexandrite-40ccac No.5735 es
30e2b59428e0afcb629335b62936ddfd64f6c3ecaa705abb36ebfdef61e5ece3.webp
128 KB 1200×1000
259b486250aa404dbb9bee325469022b59ba1efffa66dc3c7cc45962a2dd07b3.jpg
163 KB 1278×1816
>>5734
<Catherine Hills (Day 17. Hour 17)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 67/70
Hunger: 15/20 - Thirst: 16/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4
-Luck: 3 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Liminal Dictionary
Pencil
Notebook

Level 10
You didn't need to be taught to tell the truth, you always knew how.

Charmy: So you're a better girl than I was. Why did your father want you to learn to lie?

"Encapricharse," you stick with the word, but Charmy doesn't bother to explain what she meant. It's your turn to look up the concept in the liminal dictionary and discover the following:
To become infatuated
1-To insist on maintaining or achieving one's whim.
2-To have a whim for someone or something.
3-To fall in love.
Syn.: to fall in love, to grow fond of, to become smitten, to fancy, to become passionate about, to become interested in, to become infatuated with.

"Engatusar," that one you don't need to look up, and it annoys you. Charmy doesn't apologize for the comment, maybe she just wanted to see your reaction.

Charmy: Security is the last thing that crosses the duke's mind. He's not like you, or like me, he was born here. He belongs to one of those lineages that managed to flourish in the labyrinths. It's worth keeping in touch with him, but not excessively.

You enjoy the educational demonstration with the device. Charmy uses representations like that for her classes, it's a shame that due to her responsibilities in the village, it was impossible for her to continue with lessons on a daily basis.

Charmy: Bleeding entity? Seriously? I see a dark door. It's like art, it depends greatly on the viewer.

Faced with your doubt about the compasses, Charmy shows you hers made of bronze, hanging from a metallic chain. The compass ends up in your hands, it's cold and heavier than it looks. No matter how much you move it, the needle pointing north seems fixed.

Charmy: Compasses is what we are known as, the official exploration corps accepted by the Ministry... In reality, as a guild we are much older, but over the years the Ministry's hegemony became impossible to ignore and I suppose adventurers found it more comfortable and profitable to affiliate. If you move the safety catch on the side, you can open it.

You follow the instruction. The compass opens, revealing a series of moving mechanisms, arrows, wheels, and gears in motion. It also has two mini-internal containers, one in the center and another slightly smaller one above.

Charmy: The one above is for direction, and the one in the center is for non-clipping. You can go to whatever level you want, as long as you have a fragment of the place.

The leader takes the compass back and clarifies that there is a professional hierarchy of three types: Bronze, Silver, and Gold.
Charmy: Golden compasses usually live above level 200, they are independent, although they sometimes come down if they hear an interesting rumor or someone influential asks them to.

From level 10 to +200 there are unimaginable distances and adversities. Using mathematics is misleading, each of those numbers is a world.

The leader wants to know if you've adapted to the farm. Doubt is normal, you are always elusive and at first your reservations were numerous and notable. Before answering, you want to understand a few things.

Charmy: Doggo? Yes, he usually accompanies me almost all the time... Not always, there are days when I order him to watch a kid on his trips or guard the house. He's a very useful fatty, and yes, I taught him to fight. But Doggo isn't a pet, he's practically a member of my family.

You want to be the Doggo of... A certain person.

Charmy: You're not a dog, Catherine.

You know that, but the mutt is your role model.

Charmy: I understand you're speaking figuratively... Yes, if you try hard you can become an indispensable girl to someone. Just make sure the appreciation is mutual. There are no freeloaders among the kids.

But there's another doubt, more important because it has to do with your little body, physical and mental health. The leader looks at your poker face and with one hand reaches for an orange, pats the desk, looks at it, realizes there are none left and sighs.

Charmy: I asked questions. I found out you're not the only one who had those episodes. There was a subject on level 2... His name was Malory. It took quite a while to find out his real name because he seemed to have some kind of curse... Hmmm...

The name thing makes her thoughtful for a couple of seconds, until she refocuses on you.

Charmy: But he described the same thing. He wouldn't stop talking about how the world froze and tore before his eyes, he even thought it was his superpower and that it was his mission to train it. One day he disappeared.

Disappearing is normal in the backrooms, but in the leader's seriousness there was a hint of something more somber.

Charmy: It was assumed that an entity took him, sometimes hounds sneak into the heat camp and eat babies, maybe it was a very big hound. But I kept asking and it seems there were strange people asking about him a couple of days before he vanished. The strangers didn't show up again either.

There's a way to find out more, but Charmy hesitates to tell you, you might react badly.

Charmy: I don't know if you want to get a check-up, Catherine. I have a contact in the MEG, her name is Julia, she could shed some light. She'll be discreet, she knows how much I care for my children. Maybe today you don't feel like a kid 100%, but that doesn't change anything, you're under my protection.

2/3
Rangato Rose Quartz-c8f892 No.5736 es
75e638ef3894994243d4b9ab0d7d4e3d7fd40184f011227c8cb1d26d048c7ade.jpg
262 KB 832×1248
8e5315d0f6c625b7227fe4d740ccf7265ab1c2fefcd5c1bde7c6bb05699ada91.jpg
46 KB 442×693
>>5717
Ghasto doesn't understand why the young lady regrets her decision to eat people before meeting them, but then he punches his fist into his hand and realizes something obvious... She must be on a diet.

[You don't say, she's on a diet? Then I won't insist any further, I suppose weight is very important to young ladies... Although it depends on how they're cooked...]

He drops the subject and they continue walking while Rando watches them with some caution that quickly passes. He's met big shots with eccentric tastes and peculiar fixations before, which are best left unmentioned... When they ask him to get off, he does so without further ado.

[Hm...]

They look at the path they should have come from, but there's nothing there, and it certainly couldn't be considered a route from point A to point B. Just then, without warning, nature calls Marietta and she has to answer in the middle of the field. Or so I understood

[Don't look, pervert...! And Marietta, dear, warn us before you need to relieve yourself, please...]

Ghasto covers Rando's eyes with his tail, who barely caught a glimpse of the scene thanks to the suddenness of the situation. While he squeezes and punishes her for tarnishing a young lady's honor, Ghasto ponders what just happened... Getting stuck like this so suddenly... but they must go a little further to confirm their suspicions...

For now, Marietta mentions Cocytus...

[I'm not surprised, given her characterization, though I don't know why she'd be looking for opponents here in the middle of nowhere... Nya?]

He parried quickly... Under Ghasto's perception, mere seconds passed, practically the time it takes to say "Dawn breaks, night falls, and dawn breaks again." but looking back, Rando was hugging Marietta while carrying her, following him confused, his eyes went white... He checks the inventory and Rando's status...

[NYAAARRGHH! My mistress was right, I never learn to shut my mouth!]

He let out a very loud groan filled with anger and self-reproach, clearly fused with a meow and, under his breath, a purr after realizing he'd just gotten himself into a lot of trouble.

[What's wrong...?]

[She knows... I'm so sorry, it was my fault...]

[Know what...? Is it that bad...?]

[Terrible... You see, there are beings who, in their infinite boredom, decide to create worlds like this and manage them like a tyrannical God. I come from a similar one, many things happened until they finally left, and it turns out I attracted the attention of the one here.]

[Huh...]

Rando looks at him with a face of complete incomprehension, but you can't see his face because of his mask, so to fix that, he tilts his head slightly to denote this absolute confusion.

[In summary, one of the beings watching us took notice of me, and the other isn't going to intervene, or can't... Flattering, but very annoying if you ask me...]

[I don't understand anything...]

[You don't have to, just know that I'm very sorry and I'll try to make up for it as best I can... For you and for Marietta... .And stop hugging her, for the love of God...! Of God..]

[I don't want to... It's cold... And it reminds me of a stuffed animal I had as a child... But then... you don't know... how to get out of here...?]

Ghasto corrected himself a little late and clicked his tongue, old habits die hard, whether good or bad, and it's only now that his mere expressions have worked against him. As he said before, he can't know exactly where they're going... help me but at least, relatively close by, there's a cabin...

[A cabin, of course... it's really like watching a teenager ask a girl out... Alright then, that's where we'll go...]
They head towards said structure and have to take cover and plan their next move as best they can. Meanwhile, Marietta is hungrier and keeps glancing at Rando, who is already sitting but still holding her. She doesn't quite understand his words but is starting to get used to the uneasy aura she feels from both companions... She didn't even feel this way when being hunted like an animal...

[Do I look f...?]

[I suggest you don't discuss that matter... Despite your words earlier, she wants to eat him, and not in the way you'd like...]

[Is that true...?]

[Here we go again...]

He asked the girl directly, but still didn't let her go, because she reminds him of a purple teddy bear he once had that perished, if it could even be considered alive, very cruelly, if cruelty can even apply to a stuffed toy... Waiting for her answer, he watches Ghasto modify his tail again...

Now, is Rando ugly? He could be, or he might not be, after all, he wears a mask that makes it impossible to judge him beyond his body.

[What are you doing...?]

[Something I "always" could do... I'd appreciate it if you didn't think too much about this and just accepted it, okay?]

Ghasto lets the plush texture of his tail go, seeing that the walls now protect them from the outside cold, and returns to his appearance of a thick black cable... It doesn't take him long to transform the tip into something resembling a nipple from which a drop of liquid, black as tar and thick as milk, emerges. He stretches it to Marietta's mouth height, and it's obvious what he's offering her...

[And you, miss, I'd appreciate it if you'd settle for this. And I implore you not to eat our friend unless it's with harmless kisses, understood?]

If she accepts the nipple, that black liquid would begin to flow from the tail in slow intervals. If Ghasto's assumptions are correct and this girl shares the same nature as her mistress, then these drops should taste as sweet as freshly harvested honey. Living up to his title of "guardian cat," he has many tricks, most of them geared towards the care and well-being of his respective masters. With this, at least Marietta shouldn't have problems with hunger... thanks As for Rando... the butler thinks it's best not to tempt fate too much... yes...

[As for those guys watching us...]

[They're not "guys," but I sense two... Of the bad news, one is favorable to us, the other not so much... I hope they lose power for a week so they get over it...]

[But they are...]

[Let's not talk about it... They don't like being exposed. We can only pray, and not necessarily to Jehovah...]

Ghasto starts searching through the rooms of the new shelter, taking on a much more active role than before, probably driven by guilt, the weight on his conscience, and the mission his mistress gave him to protect Rando until he got out of here... Right now, he is very agitated and on guard, so much so that his appearance has changed a bit as he stopped caring about maintaining it.

Marietta comments that her watch no longer works.

[Of course not, dear... He erased time... You sleep too if you need to, I need your help...]

Rando was already using her as a pillow after the whirlwind of events that came his way while Ghasto explained it to him as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if saying 2 + 2 is 4 was an even bigger obvious truth. Taking a deep breath, Ghasto wonders, looking at the sky for a few seconds... "Should I roll dice? If so, how many?" With those exact words. And if he doesn't need them, he just hopes the objects that should be there from his search will materialize...

Fucking hell, I dreamed I had responded kek
Rolero Kunzite-b98c2e No.5737 es
6d3f00d9561fc90b9a806c05daf0dd830e0f51199d23da2ffdda4f82449de4ff.jpg
48 KB 960×536
spoiler
3.65 MB 800×450 spoiler
>>5735
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 17. Hour 17)
HP: 90/110
Energy: 17/70
Hunger: 15/20 - Thirst: 16/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by CH. Pickles.
Liminal Dictionary
Pencil
Notebook

Level 10
You're staying with the little ones. You trust sharing the decision with your special person, but the outcome is denied to you. A sword, a hilt, it wasn't your intention to take it, but a subconscious force compelled you. Perhaps it's destiny pushing you, it happens sometimes, like when life threw you to level 3 without questioning it. But now the environment that receives you is cold and dry, a desert of Martian colors, followed by the assault of three creatures that only promised to cause you harm.

The stability of the ground is denied to you by the appendages that lift and stretch you. You struggle, pull, fight against the numbness caused by the pressure of the suction cups. One of the tentacles hits your mouth...

You don't hesitate. You open and crush with all the strength of your jaw.

Meanwhile on the other side...

Hilda opens the door and enters the classroom. The person she's looking for is there, Yodel told her she saw her pass by a while ago. Maríe is at the back of the room, sitting at the desk facing the blackboard. The nerd -red as the fruit that gives her nickname- trembles and fights against her own breathing, her hands clawing at the wood. Marie might have caught a fever during the trip, but Hilda doesn't care, she walks and slaps a desk halfway down the aisle, startling the dork and getting her attention.

Hilda: Hey, loser.

Marie turns and swallows. The bully's aggressiveness quickly subsides as she sighs and rolls her eyes.

Hilda: Soooorry. It's old Hilda talking, I'm still struggling with my quirks... Anyway, I wanted to ask you... How do you make things work with Luz? It seems so so easy, but it's actually like rocket science!

With a frown, and her fingers drumming on the table, she waits for Marie to give her a hand. She doesn't plan on leaving without getting any ideas.

Hilda: Is there a trick? A protocol? I thought about learning to dance, but I always fall. It's not my thing.

She swings a wrist while considering options.

Hilda: Maybe if I bring her the head of something, like a trophy. Would that be the right thing to do? I don't know... I have no idea what we even are. Friends? More than friends? To me, she's the most pleasant person in the universe. Only an idiot wouldn't see what I see.

Marie, with clenched teeth, trembles like a jelly, lets out a high-pitched squeak, and arches her back backward, as if threatening to break in half. Hilda clicks her tongue and shakes her head, thinking the dork is an exaggeration.
Hilda: If you want to go to the bathroom, just say so.

The bully rubs her face between her palms, a little frustrated.

Hilda: Messing it up again is not an option. I love her. Alright, I'll say it... The person I'm talking about is... Catherine. Yes, you can be surprised now. And stop panting! What's wrong? Did you come dehydrated?

Whether Marie is helpful or not, Hilda decides she has no more time to waste, Cat is waiting for her. She'll ponder the nerd's words on the way. The bully leaves the classroom and closes the door behind her. Slowly, Luz lifts her head over the desk, like a little frog peeking its eyes from the surface of a lake. Open spoiler if you're in a safe place. I think it was obvious what was happening, kek.

Back on the edge...

One octopus screams, another pants, and the other... Simply makes strangled noises of pain. You grit your teeth and squeeze its head, the skin is rubbery and salty, it grinds. How did it come to this situation? You imagined being a crocodile, but you also imagined slurping spaghetti. Sol Tequila pulls you by the legs, while Sol Rita hits you with all her tentacles, of course, her head is trapped in your big mouth. Sol Presa, being the self-proclaimed smartest sister, brings a bulb to your face and spits a stream of ink in your eyes just as she would with any problematic predator.

You can't see!

Will it work to scare you away?

Let my girl go!

A voice shouts from above. You can't see it, but Hilda plummets with her arms held to her body, a blue meteor. The bully impacts and spins, kicking up a shower of sand. You feel pebbles hitting your back.

In the darkness, you hear the action...

Boom! Pow! Zap!

Sol Tequila: H-Hilda, no. We were just playing!

Bash! Whack! Thwack!

Sol Presa: I was just finishing synthesizing my latest neurotoxin. Prepare to die-ACK! My gonads!

Poof! Bang! Smaaaaaash!

A superior force rips Sol Rita from your mouth. The appendages release you, your mind tells you you'll hit the sand, but instead, you crash directly onto the wooden floor (-10 HP). Your nose is bleeding, but at least you're back on the farm. You check by pulling at the hardened ink and find, not only the hallway, but Hilda kneeling, looking at you with concern. She offers you her hands, in case you need comfort.

The sun sword lies on its side.

Hilda: I should have warned you about those witches... Sorry.

She tilts her head to the side and flashes a small smile that seeks to lighten the situation.

Hilda: Good bite.

3/3
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5738 es
db42ff1f34dd84286d3364b4594c1f5ec9d6aff5a782c01938f05b99261110b8.jpg
571 KB 1219×1157
f31b75589b93bcb4168a4dd3abcd751c624b0b14e70a2dfb6951c3b1cf6cb2ba.jpg
211 KB 1219×969
>>5731
Indeterminate no, the dunkerque ended on the 9th when Marie fainted. After that they stayed 7 days gathering supplies by order of Charmy and on the 8th they went towards level 10, so there are 7 days not rolled there but that was a pretty sad Marie according to memory kek and they stayed in a restaurant, so there were no classrooms and Jane should have already changed by being post-super almond water
>Marie
The above is already good. I left it there.
REALMENTE was a lucky thing to take the little dagger along. Marie would be missing a lot of things right now without her lunar companion. For example, a voice that accompanied her. Although what she says, for the first time, fills her up to the brim with nerves.

<Did you...? Did you want her to touch you like that? Seriously? Uuh... Why?

"U-uh- Why?"

¡¿But what answer to that?! Marie goes into overclock, searching for answers that come rushing out, like nonsense, since her tongue gets tied up and she stutters the same thing several times.

"P-p-porque- porque- por- porque... E-eh-"

Her hair and her face were already the same color.

"N-n-no sé... S-sólo... S-sólo quería."

Don't apologize, everything you write I read with a smile.
Fiu... I'm glad. Sometimes I've even thought that I was getting too dense responding to every little thing, and sometimes going off on tangents and that I could end up boring, that's all.

>I hope my approach of avoiding extending too much with the scenes doesn't make you feel the opposite.
Not at all, OPecito. It's important to know how to cut things short too, I just carry each scene because I enjoy responding to everything you write keksito. But I've also come to stop doing it when I see that the scenes don't need anything more to be added. Like in this post. If you remember. Don't worry.

>Also sorry if sometimes I imply certain actions, I mention this because I saw that it didn't convince you that I made Cat grab Hilda's sword.
There's no need to apologize, that's a triviality OPecito. I said I wasn't sure, but it was a possibility.
The truth is I had an idea of a scene where Cat would grab the sword, just didn't expect it to be like this keksito
But as I say, it was a possibility so, plus I don't mind, I know that sometimes you need to move forward, and that obviously you want to carry out certain scenes. You go ahead, I haven't complained.

>I regret to inform you that Robin is pansexual... Yes, he gets off on bread!
Abby bathed in breadcrumbs: Are you perfect for me now? kek

>Even your little autistic toddler...
Ahem... At that time it was normal, okay? Marriages with 16-year-olds and all. Robin would be okay kek

>Or Owen...
That was more Kei's

>Or of a tentacle beast from the eighth dimension!
Lunita, warm up, you're entering the game.

>Even with those, I feel like he would grab a monster by the horns the moment he saw it, I don't know.
Lunita, go back to the bench kek
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5739 es
01f50ec2181168496dde1264396996c229cdf1b13b49001259c6a0eda4adde8e.png
1.44 MB 2000×1800
05621e3fcf3692399edf958f984dfc1bc276b8e1e97e0eb17151164554fc7f48.png
1.34 MB 1800×1200
c45909b035a30a7cecdaf021efbf8f6191deca6c8477391ac6ab1012fadf8116.jpg
15 KB 236×343
>>5732
>Marie
Later, she finds herself stepping out of the water with a look of disgust. It's not that she hated pools—it's just that this strange water in the middle of darkness didn't inspire confidence. Besides, it's not the same getting into water by choice as getting soaked by circumstance. She really hoped not to get any wetter. When she reaches solid ground again, she sighs.

"This place stinks..."

Sadly, Luz seemed to have been wrong. Or well, maybe the problem is that she's on the dark side of the level. The battery... she still has some left. Marie worries—she has no idea how much farther she'll have to walk...

(Ah, heavens...)

Nerves rise. They'd told her to save battery... the problem is there's really no way to do it. If she turns off the flashlight, she's left blind...

"Uh... how did this go again?" -presses the button on the side- "Hey, Luz! This is Marie reporting in. Do you copy? Uh... Do we really have to talk like this? Over 10:4! Heh... Uh... Always wanted to say that. Over!" -silence- "Luz...? Over." -static- "I love you." -whispered quickly and quietly- "Over." -one last try, same result. Marie sighs- "Still too far..."

(Alright...)

She starts scanning the area with her eyes.

(Let's see, Lunita... which way now?)

She gives you the chance to choose. If one path looks reasonable enough, she'll take it.

...

Eventually, she arrives at a large square room. It almost feels like a checkpoint. On the ceiling, she finally spots a panel that, although weakly, glows and allows Marie to turn off her flashlight for a moment. The girl keeps her hand on the wall as if she needed to lean on it to keep moving, using it to help herself carve out a little spot on the floor. She might get a bit wet, but she can just remove her skirt and walk around in her leggings. She needs to sit for a bit—she's been walking quite a while.

"Little break..."

She'd already turned off the flashlight. She takes out Lunita and sets her beside her, leaning against the wall to keep her company. Then, she places the backpack on that side too, under the sword, which acts like a scalene triangle-shaped roof. Finally, she can take off her vest for a moment, lets out a small sound of relief—shedding the weight was liberating, even if she mainly did it to stash her phone in her sweater pocket and stop holding it. She stretches a little, sighs. Looks at her hand, opens and closes it. Feels something strange, like holding the phone for so long had burned her. No sign of injury, just discomfort.

"Osh..."

Speaking of discomfort... She quickly takes off her shoes and socks, also rolls up her leggings, freeing her skin. She lets out a grunt of relief and wiggles all her toes. They look all wrinkled like raisins—that bothers her.
"Honestly... I hate that..." -It makes her feel even more fragile. And since she already feels quite fragile in pools... it's horrible-

She shakes her head. Decides not to dwell on it. She reaches for her annoying dog socks and bunches them to the side, arms stretched to their limit so the remaining puddle isn't a bother. They won't dry, but maybe they'll be a little less annoying. She leaves the treated socks on her backpack and now, she allows herself to settle in a bit and relax with her back against the wall, looking at the ceiling.

It's not a beautiful place. The light is dim, and that pool is so out of place it gives her a bad feeling, at least the float is cute... but she still doesn't like the place. It doesn't negate, however, that it's much more pleasant than the ones she's been walking through before. She can let go of her hurry and take this breather. She takes the opportunity to eat some of the bar she had with her, now that what it was made of was the last thing she'd think about.

"Mh..."

What to say... She chews, and takes a moment. She turns to her sword.

"Lunita..." Gulp -she swallows the chocolate, notices something, her eyes go to the bar, and then to the steel- "wait, can you eat? What happens if I put this on your blade?" -that wasn't really what she wanted to know in the first place, but her tiktok attention span made her doubt in the middle of something else-

After that, if Marie couldn't, she'd finish eating the bar by herself, what she was going to say returns.

"Ah- Lunita... It's been a while... Since I got you. And... not everything has been easy." -that means one thing hasn't been easy. To carry her again, she had to try to ignore that event-

"But... obviously I don't blame you." -for that event. She doesn't know if Lunita interpreted it that way, but... Charmy did see the weapon as dangerous. Enough to lock it in the attic, so it's a possible thought- "I never did..." -she shakes her head- "oh!" -she remembers something more personal, about them, a memory that does cause her a forgotten discomfort- "yeah... uh... Remember that time I yelled at you...? heh..." -she rubs the back of her neck- "I-I felt... I feel terrible about that... It's... I was wrong. For that time... I... was different... that's all."

And it only got worse after that.

"I... Uh... well..." -she shakes her head- "what I want to get to is that... maybe I won't have many other chances to say this. Many moments you and I, you know? So... well... uh... Now that you're the only one by my side..." -she moves her little hands, searching for words- "well... I just wanted to tell you that... I appreciate you. You know? Uh- I-I love you, even... S-sometimes you seem more like a friend than a weapon... Heh..." -she smiles weakly at her-
After that conversation, Marie would take out her cell phone. She would press the intercom button again and try to call one more time.

"Heyy Luz." -she imitates Peter Griffin's voice- "It's Marie Griffin! This is worse than that time I was sus!"

>cutaway gag (Marie playing among us)
"Uh, yeah. It was definitely red, he's acting sus." -she had just been caught killing another crewmate-

<end of cutaway gag

>Marie
"..." -more static- "I guess not yet..." -she puts away the cell phone again-

Marie sighs. She would take a few more moments before re-equipping everything, putting on her stockings, and getting up with a heavy sigh. She had to continue. Lunita is the last to be picked up, but never the least important.

"Up, Lunita."

She puts the little sword between her back and backpack as always. She walks towards the exit she didn't take, taking a deep breath once more before suffering the suffocating atmosphere of the rest of the level again.

"Well... Here we go."

And she advanced. Soon, she found herself walking through a ceramic forest. This time away from the water, luckily, she was already tired of getting wet like that.

(I hope Luz isn't as lost as I am...)

sigh "well, hmm... I once read a book about a guy and a coat. Huh?"

She can see something bouncing, and as she turns around in a hurry, she finds a white silhouette moving away. Marie's lips form a long downward crescent, and her eyes widen in exaggerated Eddsworld-style horror.

"L-Lunita... D-d-did you... s-see that...?"

Later, Marie was exhausted again despite the rest. She groaned like a lost soul as she continued.

"Uuuugggh I wanna go hoooooome..."

Maybe she was exaggerating, yes. But this place really wasn't pleasant at all. Couldn't she have gotten trapped with Lunita somewhere less annoying for the psyche? Maybe then they could play or something... play with a sword... sounds weird, but she's already tried it when she wanted to show her the wonders of the internet... Hey, wait! Marie startles as she sees natural light overcoming the darkness from that door.

Marie gasps and prepares to dash out. Then a 'NO RUNNING IN THE POOL' echoes in her little head and she better just walk. The exit isn't going anywhere...

(I-I hope! It doesn't go anywhere...)

Yes, that's more accurate. She'd die if it disappeared out of nowhere. Luckily, that doesn't happen. She passes through it, and has to cover her eyes for a moment because of how bright everything is compared to before.

"my eyeeees" -she says it in a funny tone on purpose-
She can feel the wind blowing, and the humid scent of the almond ocean. She stood for a moment until just making a visor with one hand was enough to see without a problem. She then finds herself who knows how many meters above the sea. She didn't count them, but it feels quite high, like being three stories up. If she had a bad fall, even into the water, Marie feels she would have hit pretty hard... from a certain height, water is concrete.

Although it's true that she imagines herself as a normal girl, she's not aware of her extra resilience or anything. It's difficult since she hasn't really hit herself much since she arrived -thanks to the sky-

The ocean didn't have too much to offer, just some mysterious pillars, very far away... Marie doesn't pay too much attention to that either. She'd rather think about where to go now. Luckily, her cell phone activates.

<Psztt... Sweetie, can you hear me...?

"Uh-uh, Luz! Uh- Hi! I hear you. I mean, I heard you before, but... now I hear you well, I mean! Uh- Over."

<We've got the signal back. We're closing in.

"Oh, lucky me..." -she doesn't press the button to say that-

<Keep doing what you're doing, it's working. I'll continue with my part. Muack... Did you hear that? I sent you a kiss. For good luck. Muack, another one in case the first one didn't reach you. Over.

"Haha..." -she presses the button- "Y-yes... I-I heard it the first time... but I'm not complaining about the second one, heh... Mwah." -she imitates, her kiss sound effect is American- "I love you..." -she sounds content- "uh... o-over..."

She lowers the cell phone, takes the opportunity to look around.

"That was easy..." -getting out of the dark side. Luckily. Could Lunita have been right about something?-

To the right, nothing. To the left, the old man and the sea.

(Hey, look. An old man, haha)

Marie is simple sometimes. She presses the button.

"Love... Uh- uh- Marie here.... uh- can you talk to me for a moment? I want to see... w-where to go... Tell me what you see or something... Uh- Over."

She releases the button. And walks, first to the empty side, if it started making her lose signal, she'd turn around and go the other way. Upon reaching the old man, Marie wouldn't know whether to look at him. Closer up, it's noticeable that he might be a little special. But in the end, she decides to, after all, we have to celebrate our differences.

"Ahem... Good morning, excuse me, sir. Uh... How's the fishing...? Uh- I don't like fishing, but..."

Marie shakes her head, one: nobody cares about that. Two: obviously she's stating the obvious, the poor guy doesn't seem to have a single fish... Or maybe he does, but it wasn't noticeable from afar and this is narrated with the current info kek.

"Uh- uh, ignore that. Uh... I wouldn't want to bother you, but... i-if you'd let me pass... i-I would be very grateful."

She speaks with the respect that such an honorable elder as this gentleman deserves. Who knows how many maritime stories he must hold.
2/2
Murcielago y Otaku Phenacite-c8a7f9 No.5740 es
8c764aaec47a2c4a6bc61e154f109da14042b882c7943f2c697fc289e3601e4a.jpg
32 KB 576×432
07263b11376e798b9f6bb953fd9074c80bae3b068a0608c6719e485767dbcd4f.jpg
97 KB 1280×720
b43b8155143fd5b2a797482f094eb0005eb0b9bb347f1d0909b5c58beecb851b.jpg
221 KB 923×1181
127e593ccba69355e48b62b21c7a7cdc81ddccffc11bc560810f25120b214e4e.png
51 KB 728×466
>>5718
"So you're older than Mom was when she disappeared, and you didn't visit for Christmas even once... heh..." His attempt at a joke deflates as quickly as he says it, he asks about the reasons for G.Irene's massacre.

The vivid image of that mountain of bodies of other Irenes makes him pale, he closes his eyes tightly and looks away "Ok, ok, take that away!..." He even blocks his vision with his arms, and when he's done, he opens his eyes again "...that didn't answer my question" he exclaims "But I guess by probability... it's impossible for all of them to have been bad, you're not going to tell me the reason, are you?"

...

The Dawn team makes its appearance, however, Donny wished he could talk to his sister, reason with her for however minimal that possibility might be.

But the group of adventurers had other plans, and before Irena could respond or do anything about it, she is paralyzed by an artifact she was carrying.

"Irene!"

There was no use, nothing he could do about it, he was just a child, a weak child too innocent to survive on his own. That level 49 girl was right.

Donny doesn't respond, he turns a deaf ear to what the others are saying, he just approaches his sister and hugs her.

"I'm sorry..." So many things he could apologize for, but now only that could be let out "Goodbye"

He turns around, and looks again at the adventurers, he was tired, mentally, physically, and spiritually, the Backrooms were taking their toll on him.

"I'll follow you... it's not like I have anything else"

He lost his sister, twice, he lost Claus, he lost his strength, the Backrooms were taking everything from him, only this small fragment of hope remained.
He follows the Dawn group to reunite with his mother.
...
>>5722
>Irene

"Everyone has different stories and cultural contexts" A very discreet way of saying he was a weeb "Your ninjas don't sound as interesting as mine"
Neither Junior nor anything else knew a way to get to level 12, he massages his temples through his hair, apparently he was going to have to find a way to go back the way he did the first time, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

Polar and Junior leave and get lost in the blizzard, there's no time to miss them when the power of evil Christmas wants to snatch children like Yuleman, Irene acts as fast as she can and cuts ribbons, saving Sue from being abducted.

The girl sinks into her chest "Uhh... this one's a girl too, it's okay, don't worry, as long as I'm here I won't let anything happen to you"

>"WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"

"They're attacking us, help!"

The bus accelerates and a horde of frozen children jump on them, Hank lets out his American spirit and enjoys shooting them and blowing them to pieces with his rifle far too much. Irene stays with Sue stuck to her while that happens.

But things couldn't be simple, the road was blocked by spikes and a gingerbread house, they couldn't advance without ruining the wheels, and things got worse with the arrival of the disturbing Santa.

"Ah, damn it, why does everything have to be so complicated?!"

But things get worse with the arrival of the rat king, a multi-headed beast. Irene lets go of Sue, she was fed up, but she wasn't resigned to the backrooms, throwing whatever madness came her way, she was starting to get angry.

Irene lets go of Sue "Stay here girl, and don't go near the windows" She looks at Francine "Look, take this" She hands her the Eye of Argus "Negotiate with him, offer him this to convince him to let us pass, I don't know, I'm not good with words, that's my brother"

Although she also doubted her brother doing a comic imitation would save their skins now, but Irene brandishes her weapon, and goes to help Hank and Leon against the clown, he looked more killable than the rat king.

"I'M DONE WITH THE ICE AND THE DAMN BACKROOMS!"

-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete 1d50 = 18
-Agility: 10 + 1d50 = 10
>>5729
>Blame Irene
What did I do?
>>5737
>Luz's ass in the foreground
fuck, sex
Catherine/Ashley Scapolite-78c6ac No.5741 es
794abeb3ca4ca8d1f133f1f01919f31cc3bba568ba20e71f0ea1eb165e94b530.png
464 KB 583×845
67d04a55c7541ac9fabb187901c0ccfd6804cf0208938de9e8f9169a743cc6b8.png
637 KB 803×857
>>5734
>Ashley (from the fuuuuture)

"White." -color chosen because it's the most typical rather than for any other reason-

Not painting, not transporting. The desire to help doesn't change the fact that the task isn't hers. All Hilda, no Ashley!, insisting was no use. After a hectic day of work that's almost over - only the dog walk was left - they find peace on a bale. The one from the forest was very clingy to Hilda, she revalued her after recent events and wants her contact, so she has her cheek on the blue one's shoulder.

<If she finds out you helped me I'll have to do it all over again, and you too!

"I wouldn't mind helping you again..."

But it was true that more than half the work was already lost, since it wasn't categorically stated, and her desire to join in now that few chores were left wasn't high, as she would only end up adding more work for herself. And the idea was to save herself that... Although if she asked her, she would help anyway.

Then, a lady appears. Catherine separates from Hilda, rising quickly and standing straight like a private. 'No one must know' she repeats in her little head, and the one who receives the selection of ice creams is the same expressionless girl as always, who bobs her little head slightly, waiting to see if Hilda does anything. And... no. Both wait for the other, Catherine makes her lips a circle of curiosity. Then she realizes Hilda is waiting for her to choose... which makes her look forward again and reach out her arm to take the light blue without hesitation.

Now she has two favorite colors... both for how they make her feel. She likes this blue... but holding it, she doesn't know what to do with it. She's never tried ice cream. Likewise, she doesn't want to let go of it. In such simple things there are parallels she couldn't think of. Hilda is a bit smarter, she licks her scoop, that's what it's for, and seeing that, Ashley wants to do the same, replacing her initial idea of biting.
The girl stuck out her little tongue, stretched her neck forward and brought her face to the cone, timidly touching the creamy surface with the tip of her tongue. Her eyes darted sideways, and seeing Hilda licking, she imitated her, circling the blue surface and tasting ice cream for the first time. As she retracted her tongue, she let out a soft "hm," clearly making a good first impression. This doesn't match her experience with the other blue thing in her life.

<How's yours...?

"-"

There was a half-formed reply, but Hilda quickly rushed to taste her own treat. She doesn't mind—she'd share with her without any problem.

"...Did you like it?"

<Not bad.

"I liked mine..." -it could become her favorite flavor. After all, it's her first ice cream-

<Try mine.

"...It's okay..."

She moves a strand of hair aside, tucking it behind her ear so it won't touch the ice cream when she leans in and sticks out her tongue. Her eyes fixed on the little dessert, her face close to the cold air it emits. She extends her tongue and, using only the tip, forms a bridge from the base—where the cone ends—slowly traveling upward along the body until reaching the very top, the spot where you'd place a little fruit, a sweet cherry. Catherine licks that area a couple of times, making eye contact with Hilda. She doesn't know how far she'll be allowed to go. She moves closer, never breaking eye contact, and takes a little suck on her ice cream... discovering that this works too. Then, she pulls back... potential

"Mm..." -finishing her taste test- "It tastes like vanilla." -duh- "I like mine better..."

After finishing even the waffle cones, the question of where the puppy went becomes a shared concern. Together, the girls walk toward the wheat field. Catherine moves like a scalpel—surgically precise—carefully pushing aside the stalks to make her way quietly, barely making a sound, though she still leaves footprints, as lately she couldn't care less about being reckless. The guide raises an arm as a barrier, glancing down before meeting the other's serious expression. No words are needed—she understands. The other steps slightly ahead, and now Hills focuses on stepping only where Hilda has already trodden... she'd fully concentrate on staying unnoticed... but if Hilda needed help, she'd run to assist her. Though she doesn't say that.
Opening the wheat veil, Cat peeks out a little from behind the bluish one to find... the dog in question licking someone's face. For the Oregonian, this isn't THAT strange. She assumes it's a sign of affection... but her dad wouldn't approve of a dog licking a human's face, and neither would Hilda because she'd kick the girl out. There's no resistance, so the one from the forest leaves right after this.

"Who was that?" - she kicked her out with such certainty that maybe it sounded familiar to her - "Jas from Stardew Valley?"

She looks at the dog, looks at Hilda...

(Dogs give kisses like that, right?)

For a second she imagines licking Hilda's face like blue ice cream.

(Hm...)

If Hilda were to turn to look at her, she'd find a pensive albino. With her hand holding her chin as she looked at the sky and everything. Feeling her gaze upon her, the emeralds that are her irises fall to the middle of her eyes as if gaining weight out of nowhere, to abandon the sky and see her personal sky. Catherine approaches out of nowhere and traps her in her little arms, then gives her two licks on the cheek... then she pulls her face away a little, lowering her little nose and looking at Hilda from below like a scolded puppy, awaiting judgment.

(maybe it wasn't a good idea...)

Catherine is weird. Her intrusive thoughts are always there, desires to scare someone, or to commit mischief... this time she let them win. And well... she did something strange.

...

On another occasion, she found her feet towards the ceiling. She likes to do this, hang like a bat. The times she saw them like that, she wondered if they had learned to stay that way just because it was fun, or if they were just born with that ability. Dad told her that everything can be learned, but no matter how much she practiced, Cat didn't seem to be able to stay in that position for too long before her head started to hurt. After many times with the same thing, she gave up on learning, but she didn't abandon the habit of hanging anyway, just because she likes it.

<Monster? Yes, sometimes...

Catherine is offended as if the mockery were directed at her. She frowns for a second.

<Outsiders are idiots.

"Yes." - she agrees, they don't know - "they don't know." - and she says it. What don't they know? - "They don't know anything..." - Catherine feels qualified to decide if someone knows. She has studied -

<But it doesn't affect me anymore, I discovered that monsters are great, and that I only have to care about the people I love... Like you.

"..." - she smiles - "yes... I... I do know..." - What does she know? - "I know what you're like." - Catherine looks at her with good eyes -

Once she turns her head, Hilda finds a long cascade of beautiful white hair. Higher up, a girl with her eyes fixed on her, intrigued by what she was going to answer.

<I know, but I didn't want to risk it. I hate it when they mess with what is...

"..."?

She tilts her head again.

<With you.

"..."

Lowering her head, she clearly could no longer find the other girl. But she could hear, the wood being hit. And nothing else before thin arms wrapped around her with the softness of someone holding a beautiful hummingbird, even though in their hands they held a falcon.

Hilda can see Catherine when she looks up, she smiles at her. She's still clingy towards her.

"They mean nothing to me."

Not just those total strangers, she refers to her original suitors.

"I just... love you."

Saying that still feels so new... but she looked up the word in the dictionary a few days ago, and understood that it was true.

1/3
Catherine/Ashley Scapolite-78c6ac No.5742 es
8088cdd3280259f1747b426f8511770c67ac147b2e3d29ad41be27e2eb181f35.png
111 KB 596×700
spoiler
2.79 MB 1920×1080 spoiler
>>5735
>Ashley
Perhaps she wanted me to learn to lie because I already knew how to tell the truth, and in her life where she had to live hidden, it was better to practice dishonesty. But Charmy doesn't get that answer, they didn't come to talk about that and neither seems to want to talk more. For that reason, she has to clear up her doubts on her own.

<1-To insist on maintaining or achieving one's whim.

(Obviously.)

<2-To have a whim for someone or something.

(Hm...)

<To fall in love.

(Fall in love?)

The synonyms reinforce the last meaning. Catherine hurries to look up this word.

<To become attached to or fall in love with someone lightly.

Already affectedly, she moves towards falling in love.

<To awaken a loving feeling in someone.

Loving.

<That feels love/belonging to or relating to love.

Love... Her facade fell two definitions ago. The speed with which she handles the book betrays her haste.

<A feeling towards another person that naturally attracts us and that, seeking reciprocity in the desire for union, completes us, gladdens us, and gives us energy to coexist, communicate, and create.

Words as a means to evoke sensations have existed for a long time. Literature as a means of entertainment will have touched every topic and invited the reader, and more personally Catherine herself, to experience some feeling or understand it in writing.

She likes literature because, from the perspective of someone capable of writing a book, you found a description of feelings that might seem like fantasy to her. Ironically, love didn't interest her, romantic novels bored her, and the intricate words used to describe it didn't change her mind.

And she never liked dictionaries. While they are useful, the style they use and how they make you go around 20 times until you know what you want, as just happened, displeases her. An encyclopedia would always be better, one that explains everything directly.

These thoughts are things that come back to her mind almost every time she has one in hand. Even this one, which is treasured by the person who gave it to her and who repaired it. Therefore, it is at least noteworthy to say that this time she enjoyed the dilatory journey and the final reward, which finally made her say...

(That was it...)
and understand that feeling better than any literary work. And even feel it, feel it in a way so close that it makes the blood rise to her cheeks, leaving her beautiful, like a little porcelain doll, very white with blush finely outlined by a masterful artist. She closed the book, and again, affectedly, she looked at Charmy cautiously. She tried to look normal, but with those reactions, it was easier than ever to get the idea that... the two of them are 'infatuated'.

(I love Eladia...)

At least, even though you tried to hide it behind the white and red veil of her expressionless little face, Catherine was happy to understand it.

(I love Hilda...)

And she repeats it a couple of times in her head, as if to get used to it. With both names. She likes how it sounds in her head, and now she wants to try how it feels to produce those words with her mouth. But it wasn't the time.

Luckily, things get back on track. The conversation normalizes, and eventually the blush fades.

< Safety is the last thing on the duke's mind.

"That's dangerous..." -obvious- "...for him."

Eventually, if you don't take safety measures, something bad will happen. Maybe not today, not tomorrow. But at some point. Her dad was the type to prevent, and only regret as a last resort. Catherine considers herself the same in that regard. She also considers that if she doesn't care about safety, she could have some problems.

<It belongs to one of those lineages that managed to flourish in the labyrinths. It's worth keeping in touch with him, but not excessively.

"Hm."

She doesn't have much more to say about it. She understands, and that's it.

"I understand." -she replies, just in case a sound of understanding wasn't enough to show it-

The grumpy girl reduces her defensive attitude a bit when presented with a fun toy. Her eyes find images, like portraits that replace her entire panorama. The second is a mysterious creature painted with bloody liquid. This is clear even in grayscale, not for the leader.

<Bleeding entity? Seriously? I see a dark door. It's like art, it depends heavily on the viewer.

"...uh... I think I see it too..." -if she's referring to the mysterious object on the left wall, Cat doesn't recognize it as a door, but as she said... art...- "I really see... something bleeding."

It doesn't matter. The next thing in line is the matter of the compasses, they present her with a bronzed one.

(?)
It strikes him as very strange, he wonders if the subject was literally transformed into a compass, like Jews into soap, but when the compass ends up in his hands and he gives it a short check, he receives the explanation.

<Compasses are what we are known as, the official body of explorers accepted by the Ministry.

"Ah... Like soldiers?" -that's what he knows from his dad-

The rest of the story was just embellishments he didn't care about. What attracts him is opening it, and he does so at the slightest instruction. Inside it's interesting, it's moving and has gears and things he would never imagine from a compass. It looks nothing like the one his dad has used his whole life. It looks more like a clockwork part.

<The one above is for direction, and the one in the center for not clipping. You can go to whatever level you want, as long as you have a fragment of the place.

"Oh..." -she sounds and looks surprised, her little lips pursed in circles give her away-

But then, he has to return it. Finally, they explain what he asked.

<Golden compasses usually live above level 200, they are independent, although they sometimes come down if they hear an interesting rumor or someone influential asks them to.

"He's someone important." -that's what he got from the conversation-

After that, his answer is postponed. The one about staying, on the other hand, is countered by other questions of his own. An extra one this turn, prior to the others.

"...What are the dwellers?"

After that 'stealthy' question, as discreet as a howler monkey with a megaphone, he moved on to another, about doggies and her.

<Doggo?

"Yes." -who she was compared to-

<I taught him to fight. But Doggo is not a pet, he is practically a member of my family.

Catherine nods her head, understanding, finishing her question in a strange way.

<You are not a dog, Catherine.
Oh really? -pic- kek

"I know I'm not. But I imitate them well." -not too well, but well- "but I don't mean that." -she said, looking away-

<I understand you're speaking figuratively...

He looks at her again, nods his head.

<Yes, if you try hard you can become an indispensable girl to someone. (...)

She shakes her head.

"I don't mean that either..."

Another small twist.

"If I can help... by fighting... like your dog helps you."

It's not that she's a quarrelsome girl, but if she had to fight she would, and this strange desire stems from that. From the way Hilda protects her. And from not wanting to leave her alone.
Hilda protected her several times, but her mind now goes to that night when she saw a strange iron wolf, and she jumped in front of her to defend her. She couldn't do anything.

Catherine is a proponent of 'things happen and we move on', nor on Earth was she exempt from pain throughout her life, but there are things she remembers more than others. And strong feelings. Now she remembers that, and the night Hilda might not have returned. Combined, the mix makes her want to be able to protect her too. Maybe, just maybe, if she can be like that little dog... she could help her. And Charmy could teach her to fight in sync with her mistress!

But for now, she's still wild. She needs Charmy's approval, and she also needs to know about that rare condition. Nothing to say about the other subject, she awaits the explanation.

<she even thought it was her superpower and that it was her mission to train it.

Catherine might have thought something similar... if it weren't for the fact that when she begged for it the most, nothing happened. The only memory she has is of suffering a migraine and getting scared by it.

<One day he disappeared.

"...oh."

From the way she says it, the girl can't help but be a little discouraged.

"That... is not good." -she can already guess where this is going-

<it seems there were strange people asking about him a couple of days before he vanished. The strangers didn't show up again either.

"..." -Catherine was already downcast-

<I don't know if you want to get a check-up, Catherine.

She nods without looking up.

"Okay."

She's not against doctors, she remembers that name and everything. It's not that she loves the idea of seeing her again, but she doesn't hate her, nor is she on her 'avoid at all costs' list.

But... something, a doubt hung in the air. Painful as a stab in the heart. A heart she just touched, with barely the tip of her toe, a drop of love.

"Am I going to disappear?"

That was the point of it all, wasn't it? Of telling her that, and saying it like that. Tears almost sprang to her eyes, she wouldn't be able to hold them back later. But for now, she holds back, however cruel it feels to know that your end is near. The girl looks up, the pupils of her eyes were crystalline, soaked in the tears she avoided shedding.

"If I disappear... will you explain to Hilda that I didn't leave...?"

2/3
y un poco de Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5743 es
4cbd274f38b43c8c4a15587561d777ece0fcb92c902cedfa86994b2ff136ed7b.png
544 KB 1890×1431
505fc0163909ba63299d6a88a1fe07b0b60bc9a86b0159ebac4ba03da768eb92.gif
3.56 MB 640×430
6019681866299ebc275590e99eca62de7423f89fee4ac573a81fcd464ca91fc4.png
1.02 MB 1080×1063
1a8b7048e5bb4bf30aa7689c12611fa49e467167c61e6e7bd6c16572a21dfe5d.jpg
45 KB 393×394
>>5737
no need to put the two little names on the item sheet, I'm saying it in case taking it out helps you save characters kekcito
>Marie again
The intensity of the treatment has her crazy, she can't string two thoughts together, the pleasure grows without seeming to reach the limit ever. The way they explore her most sensitive area makes her moan and seek comfort wherever she can, she clutches her chest, and crosses her legs, bringing that mouth she loves closer to her lower lips. She doesn't want it to stop, she doesn't want it to!

"Oh~ oh my God~"

She lets out in a lascivious voice, when...

<Hey, loser.

"AAH-!"

She lets out a choked scream, with difficulty due to the intense treatment down there, while she tenses up. Then she falls back against the desk, looks back. It's Hilda, her legs release Luz, but the stimulation doesn't stop, Marie lowers her upper body.

"Ah-h! W-what-?" gulp -no, she can't even talk, she wants to die, this situation is terrible, Why is Luz so good at this?!-

Ashley
The promise of a premature death takes her to the limit and beyond. She bites with all she has and struggles with even the smallest ounce of strength her small body can apply, they stretch her and she squirms, they hit her, and she tears up, she tears up and they blind her completely. The pain of something falling into her eyes makes her clench her jaw a little tighter involuntarily.

But she doesn't let go. She holds firm, anyway this should be her end, and as was said, if she's going to die, at least she'll do this.

<Let my girl go!

And shortly after, she was falling. She hits the ground, crushing her nose and opening some wound inside, blood gushes out. Catherine turns around, and desperately tears off the ink, while panting. She's back there... she looks at Hilda, unable to regulate her racing heart or her breathing. She used too much energy on that, the eyes with which she sees Hilda are full of fright.

<I should have warned you about those witches... Sorry.
<Good bite.

She ignores her hands, Ashley gets up abruptly and hugs her instead, crying. She thought she was going to die...

"I thought I was going to die."

She confesses between sobs. She separates her face from the embrace, looks at her, holding her cheeks that she likes to hold so much. Giving her a close-up of her tears.

"Hilda... I'll stay... I want to stay with you..."

She finally gives her her decision. She wanted to do it before this, this might make it seem like something said under strong emotions, but no. She gives her a little kiss, a short one, one of the few she knows how to give... "I love you..." -she confirms after reading it- and then, she loosens her grip, her body slumps. She ends up sitting on the floor, panting.

"I-I'm tired..."

Literally. She's tired. She wouldn't say she has no strength left, on the contrary, one could say she has about 24% energy left kek but she spent so much and so suddenly that she still needs a break.

From today on, she will be much closer to Hilda...

Because now she knows that her destiny could be to disappear.

I really liked how this turned out, these turns feel like a circle and that things lead well to the others in the turn. I don't know if I'm explaining myself kek. I liked it so much that I won't even question the timeline kekcito
Rolero Powellite-32dabb No.5744 es
8a4530bb69299bb36375cdfc97b2bf60f578007c6d343567f3e0881d97ff73bb.jpg
140 KB 750×777
>>5730
<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, Hour 9)
HP: 95/100
Energy: 49/50
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 18/20
-Strength: 13x2
-Agility: 12x2
-Stamina: 13x2 + 10 Reinforced Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 3/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Magnum Revolver (2/6. Damage x3, Priority +2)
Kitchen Knife (+3 damage. Corroded)
Skills:
Werewolf (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.

Level 11
Radiohead seems busy. With the station being invaded, broadcasting music is the main priority. Polar says to stop screaming and move your ass before the white-walkers get them.

Polar: You would be, yes. But ever since we left my original world, I've noticed you're slow and dull, like a snail.

After leaving the Commodore 64, you no longer perform acrobatic leaps or weave through trucks dodging missiles. Pixel video game physics are more lenient and different than those of your three-dimensional reality.

Polar: I could teach you something if you lost some weight.

Your current form is too fat and inadequate for Polar's techniques. Even if they say pressure forges diamonds, fleeing from a horde is not the ideal time to learn jutsus.

Polar: Finish it if you want.

He passes you the cigarette. You grab it between your gloved fin, discovering you can't take a puff with the respirator on. You help with the effigy and they block the door. From the other side, a force pushes, tearing the door off its hinges and shaking the wooden idol. Frozen fingers become visible, pressing and tearing.

Wesker: Time for the reset! Of the great transcendence! They called me mad... MAD! He laughs with his arms extended and curved upwards But my suspicions were correct... The stains on the walls, the growing cold, the stealthy movements of The Ministry. They didn't know that time is a flat circle. The fall into the abyss ends at the beginning, but there are always—and I mean always!—remnants left.

The prophet pulls a match and a matchbox from his rags. Polar and Junior's eyes widen, sensing what's coming.

Polar: Hey, hey, are you serious? I'm into seppuku, but this is too much.

The madman plants himself at the base of the wood, slides the match along the side of the box, and strikes it. He extends his arms straight and lets the lit match fall. Polar frowns. Junior takes a step back and covers his face with his hands.
The flame fans the gasoline, it expands, climbs the wood and the flesh like a wave on a blue shore. Wesker waits mutely even when the fire covers his head, transforming into a burning, dark silhouette, his limbs twitching and contracting more and more, until he finally becomes an unmistakable ball of embers. The icy hands that moments ago pushed the door away, recoil from the intense heat. Wisps of smoke rise and cloud the lights in the sky. Burning pieces of the effigy crackle and break off, bursting against the ground.

You instinctively step back a few more paces.

Junior: Can I look now...?

Polar: No.

A dull thud to your left. You look and discover a white body split in two, the legs are mangled, but the upper torso is still crawling with its bright blue eyes fixed on you. Polar senses the danger, grinds his teeth and grips the golf club.

Polar: Up...?! No... Over there!

He points the club towards the snow giant in the background. The walkers climb Olaf's left arm, he shakes them and throws them in a parabola like projectiles or grenades. Some go through the windows of the buildings, others whistle past and shatter on the street pavement, and several... Reach the roof of the radio station, rolling and bouncing, shedding pieces.

Polar: Damn it! Kid, don't separate from me!

--Polar
HP: 140/140
-Strength: 13 + 10 Golf club + 1d50 = 3
-Agility: 14 + 1d50 = 6
-Stamina: 12
Equipment:
-Golf club
Function: +10 damage. The bonus increases to +20 if hitting with the tip when agility is over 40.
Description: For powerful swings.

The albino throws a series of firm blows against the newcomers.

--White-walker Army
HP: 100000/100000
-Strength: 1d100 = 26
Trait:
-Damage is directed at all characters within range.
-Each time a character is defeated, they recover 100 HP.

There are too many! Polar knows it. You know it. Even if they resist with all their might, they will fall sooner rather than later.

You see Junior climb one of the radio towers until he reaches the speakers at the top, he brings his face close to them.

Junior: Mr. Radiohead, please save us! I know you can, Mrs. Gloria said you rescued her!

It seems his tactic is to ask for help from the only responsible adult present. Still, Radiohead hesitates when he replies through the speakers.

Radiohead: "I don't know, Junior-boy. It would be disrespectful to my radio listeners to neglect my responsibilities. Music and listeners are the reason for my existence."
Marisa Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5745 es
>>5733
"It happened again."

It's been so long since he had one of those weird visions that he barely remembers that this was something that used to happen around here. He knows so little about the place that he has no idea if it's something to do with the level, his body, or something he ate.

>Hey!

It's not a good time to be thinking about it either, hours of silent hypothesizing are for long explorations, not for short sprints through wheat fields, much less if he has a very large (relative to his current height) and very wicked guy behind him.

"Ow." Although his stumble undoubtedly makes more noise, he tries not to complain out loud. "At least I didn't twist both my ankles, it would take a real idiot to do that."

Staying quiet turns out to be the right thing to do because the mercenary is as blind and deaf as he is short, the wheat hides his small body even with the android half crushing his back.

>Testing, testing, can anyone hear me?

"Oh, at least Alondra is okay. That's good." It's not good for him and he finds it hard to stay calm after the noise alerts the armed guy who is now returning to his position.

>Wow... You're so pretty... I like it.

"Th-this robot can still self-!" He curls into a fetal position to cover himself even more with the Flametower on his back and tries to shout something to scare off the thug, but he stumbles over his words and the sound of flesh and bones being crushed with great force drowns out any sound he makes.

"This looks like a drug cartel blog..." He prefers to swallow his tongue so that human remains don't get in his mouth. "I want to go home... Even an execution is better than this."

Hands grab him from behind as he continues to stare intently at the butcher of Troy, taking away his shyness and giving him back the air to shout.

"dest-ruct! If you try anything, we'll both blow up!"

>Ouch, girl, hold still. Lower your voice.

Since they don't crack his head immediately but ask him to be quiet, he goes mute again and stops struggling.

"Hey. Are you Tom, the sandwich guy?" In the dim light of the sky, it's hard to tell, but it's difficult to mistake the face of the first man who almost blew his head off with a flying knife the day he arrived at the storage units, much less when Sacha is part of those memories. "Or am I mistaking you for someone else?" Still, it's better to be safe than sorry, it's not the first time someone has looked like someone else to him, and making a mistake with someone he already knows he's not immune to will look worse now that his skin is lighter.
Rolero Powellite-32dabb No.5746 es
f9498295f45099836f483a6ad38065731a873ec7fdfcd71faf4723c7e6a176c2.jpg
133 KB 1920×1080
>>5736
<Rando Roadagain (Day 25, Hour 5)
HP: 98/100
Energy: 6/50
Hunger: 0/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 7 + 6 Ghasto (+1 extra attack)
-Agility: 6 + 5 Ghasto
-Resilience: 6 + 10 Spiked Armor (10 direct contact damage)
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8

Level 10
Exactly, call of the wild... The steaming, wet, wide, brown mass like cow dung, defiling the ground, is proof of it! Perhaps Rando didn't witness the process, but by being a peeping tom, he saw the result. Marietta pats her soft belly and lets out a sigh of relief.

For the cat, days pass in the blink of an eye. But for Rando, hunger and thirst weigh like an anvil. His stomach is pressed, his lips and tongue dry out, his eyelids feel like iron curtains, and the girl in his arms doesn't stop squirming.

Marietta: Your spikes, they hurt me.

She complains, but perhaps it's a tactic to make devouring him easier.

They reach the cabin, the door is ajar, a push of the hand is enough for it to give way with a creak. Immediately the stench reaches them, a deep odor coming directly from the wood, as if the planks contained compressed layers of rotten fish. They don't understand the reason at first, everything on the first floor seems in place: dining room, bathroom, living room, well-condensed to house a homey family. But when Rando opens a door to the basement, a part of the mystery is revealed. The descending stairs end in a bunch of giant guts dissolving in their own putrid juices, black and green bubbles swell that colossal colon in infection. Upon opening the door connecting to the stable, they discover the site occupied by a watery heart incapable of beating, the size of an elephant.

Marietta: I know! I know!

She raises her hand even though no one asked her.

Marietta: We're in a mimic. Poor thing, it died of cold.

Mimic, an entity that disguises itself as a building to surprise unwary wanderers. The Overlook is one of the most famous and intelligent mimics, but this one that shelters them couldn't even survive the bad weather, perhaps because it's younger.

Marietta: Maybe I will... Just a little piece...

She murmurs with a finger near her lips. Ghasto notices that Von Karma is seriously considering eating the remains of the entity, although it's more likely she'll end up in a bad mood due to indigestion, and in her anger, she'll take it out on someone, possibly Rando.

On the second floor, the stench is more tolerable. There are two bedrooms: one for the parents, and another for the children. Obviously without occupants, and when they try to explore the attic, a wall of gray matter blocks their way, cerebrospinal fluid dripping like a layer of oil. Perhaps at this point Rando is grateful to have an empty stomach.
They go back downstairs. Rando sits in one of the dining room chairs and positions Marietta between his legs, the Von Karma's fat ass sinks, molds, and protrudes. She is much wider than him.

Marietta: The cat said it was okay to eat humans... That it was useless to try to be good.

She flutters her eyelashes, lowers her face, and purses her lips into a pout. With that, she means that if she ends up tearing Rando apart and consuming his parts, Ghasto will bear the responsibility.

The cat, foreseeing the terrible fate that looms over the masked man, turns its tail into an alimentary appendage and brings it to the girl. She gives it a spiral glance from the corner of her eye, blinks, opens her mouth, and sticks out her tongue, gives a quick and shy lick up and down, then retracts her tongue and smacks her lips as she savors the substance. She returns her eyes to the cat and contemplates with an expressionless look where it's hard to tell if she liked it. Then she opens her mouth, welcoming more. Ghasto dips his tail into that mouth which adheres like a fleshy lining warmed by the young abomination's breath. Marietta closes her eyes and...

She slurps!

She frowns as she sucks. Ghasto feels the substance and energy being snatched away by an extreme force that also takes chunks of his skin. He has to kick and dig his claws into the planks to avoid being absorbed by that black hole in the shape of Marietta.

Marietta: Burp!

After a burp, Marietta is left with her eyes closed, a satisfied little smile, and her hands resting on her formidable chest, asleep. Rando notices at a glance that Ghasto is now smaller. After putting the Von Karma in one of the beds, the masked man can help the cat look for supplies...

Refrigerator:
x5 Almond water bottle
x5 Almond milk bottle
x2 Gluff legs
x7 Gluff steaks
x2 Neapolitan ice cream

Cupboards:
x2 Almond oil bottle
x3 Fish crackers
x5 Pack of Bimbo bread
x10 Canned tuna
x5 Jar of moth jelly
x1 Kitchen utensil set
x1 Kitchen pan set

There's enough to survive for a while. Perhaps they'll find more in the attic or basement, but they'd have to get rid of the organs before they decompose to have a chance. The mimic's death gases would make the house uninhabitable if something isn't done.

There are only two ways to escape that space: either go confront Cocytus, or have Ghasto disappear since his presence causes the error. The dice would only be useful for random events, sometimes positive, sometimes negative, it will depend on luck.
Rangato Goshenite-d79de4 No.5747 es
594e39dd646108079383d24f91060654248d0731796af5d946f40e2bc4bd9359.jpg
416 KB 1220×1600
c734097ef2dcd410b697052b6bdb403b3c0868162fe6d93c992693109d80c2d6.jpg
113 KB 700×700
682e83eee613965044bc07a6c98a7f694ef0ccd02676fc0a99cfd06513046ff8.jpg
168 KB 928×1216
b48ec7cfef09a2454d0480d632f9a7398f24090542ef071ffe16f4793699cb6b.jpg
269 KB 1094×1600
>>5746
Ghasto could smell it from far before reaching the house; even if it were still alive, he could sense it, but he only lets out a soft purr upon knowing it is dead. Even if the scent isn't the best, the cat can dampen his sense of smell, and this isn't even among the 5 worst things Rando has ever smelled... So they enter and settle in, after which Ghasto explains to Rando, word for word, what a Mimic is and why they are inside one.

[Correct, dear, who's a smart girl? You are, yes, you are! At least that saves me some work...]

Ghasto strokes Marietta's head after her answer as if she were a dog, because positive stimuli for a favorable attitude must be delivered in abundance; he did the same when Nyarla finished her homework and went to play video games... In fact, he never stopped doing it until they "broke up"... On another note, the cat gives Marietta a little tap on the forehead so she doesn't ruin her appetite before dinner.

[No, no, and no. I'll think of something, don't you dare even try...]

They explore and explore but only manage to confirm their suspicions that this one is well and truly dead, nothing more relevant besides Rando taking off his spike armor, leaving only his muscles, and setting it aside because it bothers Marietta... Which is like a giant marshmallow that lets Rando sleep as much as he needs like a baby hugging his favorite teddy bear, what memories, what bliss; if he didn't want to eat it, it would still be pleasant.

[I know what I said, but listen well to what I'm saying now... Not all humans get eaten, only the evil ones, but the one you have under your abundant form isn't evil, is he...? And I have a name, young lady, use it...]

[I'm a friend... not food... treat me well...]

Ghasto is a proponent of everyone following their nature and desires. Knowing himself and Marietta, he concludes that she, just like her mistress, was simply born for evil, and it's harder for her to be "good". The problem is that it's not as simple as just letting go; one must learn to behave. Otherwise, it will create mobs, with torches and pitchforks, and everyone knows there's nothing murkier than a mob.

So, having found a solution, Ghasto gives his tail to Marietta, who, like a baby exploring, decides to trust the feline and try it. As he feared, she liked it, so it's better to let that be her sustenance for now...

[Nya...? NYAAAAAAAAAAH!]

She quickly noticed how she got careless and would have ended up having her tail sucked and ripped off if not for Rando, at the shout of "let go, let go, let go", holding Marietta's face along with her cheeks so she lets go and doesn't leave them both in the middle of nowhere without a trusted feline guide. He feels different, something smaller. He looks "at the ceiling" with an accusatory and disgusted gaze before...
[Are you... okay...?]

[Holy Sheol! I haven't felt this defiled since my mistress forgot to eat while I was gone... What does she have to say in her defense?!]

But Nyarla already fell asleep. Reasonable, except it's not at all. And Rando, after making sure she was okay, does the same and falls asleep hugging her because, according to him, he needed to sleep first or something. When he wakes up is when he sees the cat's appearance again, still annoyed by the roughhousing they gave him without his consent, how dare they, it would be another thing if they had asked...

[You look like a little girl...]

[Not another word about this, understand?]

[And you sound like one...]

[Grrrrrr...]

Rando gets up, feeling as good as new, and lets Marietta sleep as long as she needs. For now, they look for supplies, and boy, do they find them. He supposes that the Mimic, as part of its nature, sought to make its prey feel at home, quite ingenious, but another problem arises, and that is that the corpse itself is annoying...

[I'll handle it... I'm hungry now...]

His voice changed drastically with his last line. And, not insignificantly, Ghasto hadn't eaten anything at all during his entire stay in the Backrooms, he didn't need to, and even now it's hard to say if he needs to, but... he "wants" to eat... Maybe more out of spite than true need or sustenance. So, in that small and adorable way, he extends his snout, torso, and mouth to impossible limits so that upon reaching the basement, he only has to "SLURP." In caps...

It's hard to define or describe what Ghasto is, maybe the matter would be over sooner if we explained what he is not... A dog, for example... Nor is he prey, since, like common cats, he is an apex predator. Of what or whom? Well, who knows, the important thing is that he has plenty of food and, not having a digestive system in the usual sense, everything goes in without hesitation or disgust...

[How disgusting...]

[Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, don't you want some? It tastes like chicken...]

Rando lets him be, he supposes he'll do the same with the brain and heart until he returns to his normal size, because he was growing again. So he moves away from the smell and the guttural sounds, superior to those of a death metal concert, and eats some provisions, enough to fill himself up and not think about being trapped with two mistakes of nature... Then, well, he goes back to Marietta to keep her company or something while the cat chokes, he likes the feeling of his body against hers more than he should or would admit.
Rolero Powellite-32dabb No.5748 es
998ec4f9f57998d1619c0c92d06a0e08fe2ec6dc8fce3e97a154ed17986035b8.jpg
321 KB 1008×1313
spoiler
374 KB 750×485 spoiler
ffe7f674afcf0fa7e16e68b42b940a8ebb77c35c1831fb42c4b1ada5fa39eb44.webp
44 KB 512×512
>>5747
>>5738
>>5739
So let's leave it as it was an extra moment during one of her first classes.

<Marie Griffin (Day 52, 2:00 PM)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 64/70
Hunger: 21/21 - Thirst 16/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 16 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Super-Cell (On. Charge 10/16)
Joseph's Charger
Piece of bar filled with moth jelly (2/4)
-Pink backpack 6/10
Pencil
Notebook
Contaminated water bottle (15/15)
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White cat headband

Level 37
Lunita: That's how it is. It's me. Entering the scene.

When she notices you in your mental bubble, she shakes her tentacles like jelly trying to look funny and lengthens her steps. Your warning comes too late, she's already in the chair and ends up puking. But good news: She recovers easily. She passes a tentacle over her lips, straightens up with a quick shake as if her elastic body were filling with air, and gives a thumbs-up (Club) in your direction.

With a nervous heart and wet socks, you follow the light and the trail of abandoned clothes, and find a flashlight with a creepy decoration: The severed hand makes you hesitate whether to keep the object.

Lunita: I'm just saying... Most likely she went craaaazy.

She traces circles with a tentacle near her ear. She projects an intrusive thought to you, thanks to which you can see her, you also observe when she takes out and puts on a detective fedora and a magnifying glass.

If your thought bubble floats 50 degrees above your head (Marie is a young woman with a lot of imagination), Luna knows she has to point the magnifying glass more or less to the bottom right corner of the cloud to pretend to analyze the remains. From your current perspective, the trick is a bit convincing, but if you lean in, Lunita would be studying a ceramic pillar.

Lunita: Look at the skin tone, yellow? Purple? What color do you think that is?

You surely don't want to look.

Lunita: She was very pale. I bet she'd been lost here for weeks, ran out of supplies and decided to drink this contaminated water, the blackened veins are the key clue.

She turns her face back to you, smiles showing her teeth and moves her eyebrows?. She trusts her deduction, but you sense she's looking for validation.

Lunita: It's not gooooood in the "Oh, super good!" way, but... Yeah, good in the sense of, just stay sane and don't drink this water. Those are two things we can do... A-are you already feeling the-the madness?

Later you ask her to show you the way.

Lunita: What? Who? M-Me?

Yes.

Lunita: Okay, uh, hmmm, let's see... That way! No, wait. Turn around and over there... Stop! Stop! To your left is better, yes, I perceive it 100%, it's the path to victory.

You follow the instruction and...

You run headfirst into Pic Spoiler!

Battle music sounds in your head: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-1EPegIzD2M
Lunita: Aah! Careful!

You gasp, step back, wave your arms and keep your balance, avoiding falling on your butt. You prepare for the worst.

Lunita: Wait... It's not moving. Is it afraid of us?

You shine a second glance. The water has corroded the plastic and muddled the colors, but you remember seeing something like that in a water park. It's a broken animatronic.
Lunita: Fiiiu! Wipes a tentacle across her forehead Better keep going to the right. My blade won't take any more scares.

...

Time for a break. In the new room the floor is icy but dry, you allow yourself to rest your butt, put down your backpack, set aside your sword, and take off your vest. The clothes underneath are sticky with sweat, the price of exploring a damp level. There's incipient irritation where the Hello Kitty kevlar usually pinches. Now free of shoes and socks, you wiggle your wrinkled toes. The soles of your feet hurt from so much walking. You're getting calluses and... A mushroom?

A bright red one with white dots and a cap no bigger than your thumb, it sticks out like a sixth imposter and makes you shudder. It reminds you of a Mario Bros. mushroom. That's not normal, but you'd already felt something bothering you when taking left steps.

Lunita: Great trick for infinite food!

Nothing great about it!

Instinctive disgust makes you lean down and reach out, pinch the fungal invader between your thumb and forefinger and pull... Pop! It comes out with minimal force but hurts a little, like pulling out a deeply embedded splinter. The stem left a reddish, somewhat slimy circle that you can clean off in the pool.

-Red Mushroom
Effect: Eating one fills 10 hunger and 10 HP.
Description: Red-capped mushrooms with white dots, very fleshy. Great for circulation.

You wring out your leggings and settle against the wall. The sweetness of the bar alleviates the emptiness caused by your feeling of fragility, it doesn't cure it, but it's a comfort. Doubts about your sword arise.

Lunita: Nope, but I can cut. It's the closest thing I do to eating. I also like being polished from time to time...

The hint evokes a memory. Hilda sitting with her legs spread in the small farm's field, with a bucket full of water to one side and a couple of rectangular stones laid out on crossed wooden planks. She wets the stones with water before passing, at a firm angle, the blade of the sun sword. She repeated the task for at least a couple of hours.

You make an effort and control your TikTok syndrome. You get to what you wanted to talk about, an apology and acknowledgment chat.

Lunita: Y-Yeah, it's nothing... We got over it... That's what counts... R-Right...?

It doesn't appear in your mental images, she's nervous. Remembering those ugly moments brings her down.

Lunita: It was lucky you found me... You're my best owner. N-No offense! But... Sometimes... I feel like I was made for you...

Her voice gets smaller and smaller until you can barely hear the "for you".

Lunita: Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to make it weird. You know how everything was on the other side, compared to the antis you're so...

She sighs.

Lunita: Ideal. Kind-hearted.

You share Luz's opinion.

Lunita: It was painful what happened... I guess Excalibur also suffered a lot facing evil, right? But I'm ready, I'll endure it, my steel is good... Like you.

She meditates in silence, something is bothering her, you perceive it in her ethereal gaze.

Lunita: Marie... What would have happened if she hadn't come back?

You know very well which girl she's referring to.

1/3
Rolero Powellite-32dabb No.5749 es
d4695a985a2edc9a4fcb94ac85fcb35c39bfa782fc8b114f1003af6e0370fd81.png
2.50 MB 1536×1024
8296d5821684bdd52c6c288aef2205ba2beb3b89bf0b3aa3e457fcf6b8acc365.png
842 KB 741×1080
380bd299cbdedda0b343129a0e24659a9c03b01b62468f2b5868b8fe21c8d81c.webp
51 KB 619×772
dcae165f94000cf3e01ba4346304c2288a02de372b5663af9df006d62d90f9af.jpg
266 KB 794×1428
>>5748
<Marie Griffin (Day 52, Hour 14)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 64/70
Hunger: 21/21 - Thirst 16/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 16 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Super-Cell (On. Charge 10/16)
Joseph's Charger
Piece of Moth Jelly Filled Bar (2/4)
-Pink Backpack 6/10
Pencil
Notebook
Contaminated Water Bottle (15/15)
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White Cat Headband

Level 37
The exit is like a drink of water in the dese- No, you're sick of water. Now you just want a dry environment free of strange presences. You haven't left Level 37 yet, but you've escaped the dark part.

Luz (Intercom): I love you more. Oh, sorry. I'm not supposed to keep talking after I say 'over'. Over.

Now you know they are getting closer to each other. But you want more clues.

Luz (Intercom): I see a place that's very... What's that word you use? Aesthetic, yes! With neon lights and... Statues of Caesar?

At least it's not the dark part.

Luz (Intercom): I also found a Twinkie machine. I saved you a couple.

The signal remains strong towards the old man's side. You opt to speak to him and-

??? (Old Man): Shhhhh. You talk too loud, young lady. You scare the fish. They are shy.

He says without looking at you. His voice is very... Watery, with a wrinkled tongue, like he's chewing water, with gums that are missing all their teeth. In conclusion: Very old, like someone who constantly wants to avoid fatigue.

The fishing rod shakes, the line trembles, and the reel spins for a few tense seconds until it stops abruptly. The old man grabs the handle and begins to reel in quickly. You glance at the bottom, you see something rising at high speed until...

It's here.

The tuna, as tall and thicker than you, thrashes. It's dressed as a Japanese schoolgirl, proving the old man was right, they are shy. With both hands, it shoves the tuna's head into the bucket and starts moving its voluminous feet, turning to leave. But where to...? Perhaps a refuge from the level?

It pulls a rectangle from the wool bag beside its robe. As you are close, you identify it as a small door, with a drawing of an hourglass. It grabs it by the edges with its fingers, and as if it costs it no effort, stretches it. The door grows, achieves standard proportions for Minnesota, and plants it in the middle of the empty path. Giving it a small push, the door doesn't fall completely as you might have expected, but opens, revealing the predictable: The path continues, with the thresholds to the west and the sea to the east.
Lunita: I knew that would happen. Doors don't work like that. Marie, tell her!

Your sword seemed indignant at the demonstration, it already had enough trying to keep up with your computer memes as for that old man to come and confuse it with the most basic matters. But Luna's complaint had to wait, because you saw Luz appearing through one of the thresholds at the back.

Luz turns in your direction, smiles, raises a hand, and runs towards you. You want to hurry, to reunite with your beloved, and so you do... You see yourself coming out from the edge of a frame, literally from off-camera, you run and merge with her, sharing a strong hug that is alien to you.

Lunita: W-Wha?! M-Marie?! Is it Tiffany again?!

As soon as you got out of shock, you surely prepared to intervene, but a voice from the intercom stops you.

Luz (Intercom): Marie, what flavor of Twinkie is your favorite? My bet is on the cream-filled ones, and I'm not just saying that because I only got that flavor, heh... Okay, you got me, I only got those.

Still not understanding, you watch as the image through the door changed and distorted like ripples disturbing water...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SRgAccPcHIU
Beyond the window, the gold of the wheat colors the night, the sky is clear, winter ended long ago. Luz puts an end to some notes in the notebook on the desk, accompanied by a medical book. She looks at the only bed in the room, Marie is lying like a starfish, drooling and with a DS on her chest with Animal Crossing on. Luz pouts, gets up, grabs and turns off the console, covers Marie with the sheets, and leans down to give her a kiss on the forehead.

Black and thick darkness, at first it seems like a total blackout. A point of light breaks through the blackness and approaches, revealing with its proximity jaws like blades and blind eyes of an abyssal fish. The giant entity flutters and moves away from the door, something larger scares it. The steampunk submarine crosses, sounding its horn that mimics the roar of an orca, in one of its circular windows, Marie and Luz can be seen, as well as the disheveled-haired girl you met on level 7.
Luz and Marie walk hand-in-hand on the moon, without suits, with Earth in the background, a pale blue orb. Marie points into the distance after locating the lunar landing module, American flag and all. Luz climbs the ladder, kicks open the hatch, peeks inside to check before turning back to help Marie up. They spend the ?night? there.

Marie, Luz, and Momo run through an endless art gallery. Tall creatures, looking like librarians with glowing eyes, have been relentlessly chasing them since a previous level. All because Marie let out a loud meme in the library. They reach a dead end with a Caravaggio painting, stop, turn around, and Marie doesn't hesitate, draws Lunita and takes cover behind the metal plating to be the first line of defense.

The kids form a line in the hallway. Charmy, balancing on several stacked stools, marks height lines on the wall with a marker, with each kid's name. It's Marie's turn, she stands with her back to the wall and waits for the leader to finish marking. When done, Marie turns around and looks up at the different lines with her name.

A coffin is lowered into a rectangular hole made to measure. Everyone is dressed in black, the kids are crying, Marie too, the leader maintains a somber expression. The pastor prays for the helpless and asks for mercy for those fallen to drugs. Dirt is thrown, and Marie's gaze doesn't leave the tombstone with Seriozha's name. Luz offers her shoulder to cry on.

Marie falls and spins, staining the hallway grass and the roses that line it with her blood. She gets up with gritted teeth, clutching what remains of her left arm, torn to shreds. She faces the threat, the colossal-faced trollge approaches with a smile wider than a Griffin laid horizontally. It seems like the end, but a sudden wave of heat makes the trollge turn. Hilda arrives running with a lit sword, Catherine moves ahead of the bluish girl and throws herself headfirst at the entity's face, sinking her claws and fangs in.
A misty forest, with a night sky of a thousand colors, and a commotion that scares away the fairies and makes the sprites (Ponies) scurry. In the middle of a clearing, the Hex Girls are performing a concert, the crowd waves luminous wands and accompanies the choruses. Marie pushes her way through with two bubbling glasses in her hands, careful not to spill any liquor on her shirt, which was just signed by one of the band members. It took her quite a while to master her prosthesis (a gift from Dora), and it would be bad to lose confidence now. She reaches Luz and shares a glass with her. Both drink the liquor, why not? They are adults now...

Marie looks at herself in the full-length mirror with a trembling smile, a bundle of nerves and happiness. She leaves the dressing room to fulfill her commitment, taking care not to trip on her skirt. She can barely wrap Joe's arm with hers, and although the masked man never got used to moments of peace, he seemed honored to escort her to the altar located on the beach of the eternal sunset, where Luz awaits her with a smile and a white dress.

The couple returns from collecting samples and seeds of different plants from the petrified garden, and they decide to take a break to visit the leader. Marie is in charge of directing the deathmoth, she raised it and fed it until it became her acid-spray winged horse, named Epona 2 in honor of her first mount. They arrive at the farm, but another duo got there before them, a duo that had the little ones running around them. Two girls try to grab Catherine's long hair, while Hilda dazzles a group of brats by showing a bronze compass between her fingers.

The merchant city again, the collapse of the vespids is now a distant memory. In a medicine and botany shop, a dark-haired woman is seen working through the second-floor window, learning about new plants discovered in the backrooms and also organizing the accounts. In the nearby bed sleeps a version of Marie similar to her mother, mouth open, drooling, with a Switch 2 on her chest. Luz, like many other nights before, approaches her, covers her with the sheets, and kisses her on the forehead.

2/3

This turn took a lot of energy out of me, ayyy. I'll see if I can finish the third one today, if not, I owe it to you for tomorrow, my little darkie.
Rolero Powellite-32dabb No.5750 es
7703779d827aca3611a2807ae3d9fba93a95e9c34f87002ebc79fd2d9e483090.webp
179 KB 640×800
0137ddad5ce255799eefb4f71732053844d3ee1ebaf15f18ddadb475662af34a.png
1.05 MB 1920×1080
5282fea867d0129c164dee93f4d58b71d4cd11945e185caa929beea0f2e61b46.jpg
93 KB 1000×752
>>5748
Pic 1 is the level where alternate Marie fought against trollge. I would have liked to go into more detail with nods and details, but the point is that they are glimpses, kek.

<Marie Griffin (Day 52, 15:00)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 63/70
Hunger: 20/21 - Thirst 15/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 10
-Resistance: 16 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Super-Cell (Off. Charge 10/16)
Joseph's Charger
Piece of moth jelly filled bar (2/4)
-Pink backpack 6/10
Pencil
Notebook
Contaminated water bottle (15/15)
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White cat headband

Level 37
BOOM!

The old man pulls the knob and closes the door with the hourglass mark. He squeezes the sides, the door shrinks, and ends up stored where he got it.

Lunita: "Marie, w-what was all that?"

Hermit: Al-alternative futures.

Lunita: "W-uh?! D-do you hear yourself...? I don't think he's a normal old man."

The old man seems more interested in rummaging through his bag than explaining himself. He pulls out another batch of doors, wooden, iron, French, barn, gothic, flush, paneled. He doesn't enlarge them, he opens them in his palm and takes a look before moving to the next. He even pulls out an invisible type...

Hermit: True, it was stolen.

Or rather, non-existent.

He directs his empty hand to his inventory and gets a door so white it hurts to look at. You feel like you've seen a variety of similar thresholds before, but where? The old man holds the door at his height, places it on the ceramic wall, and opens it to a world made of nuclear white. He casts his line, pulls the bucket, and throws the fish inside, a blurry red trail takes the tuna. He's the last to pass, closes behind him, and the door shrinks to a speck of dust and disappears.

Luz (Intercom): "Marie, are you still there...?"

The voice on the other end sounds worried. You haven't responded for a long time, you've frozen, your feet feel like lead. You might need a moment to think and come to your senses. Back to your senses, you follow the plan of guiding yourself by the stability of the line and with that discover which path to follow. You return to the depths of level 37. The water is clear, the walls spotless, the lights blinding.

You go up stairs. You cross bridges. You use duck-shaped boats to cross canals, Lunita is the oar. Not getting wet is easier on the bright side of life. You might even say the level is pleasant. The sound of running water relaxes you, though it also makes you want to pee...

Luz: Marie?

The Colombian woman finds you squatting in a corner. Like a soldier, she turns on her heel and gives you your space. It's not her plan to bother you when you're in a vulnerable position. You finish your business and you reunite. Luz hugs you, then pats you down, you recognize when someone is looking for injuries. Luz opens her mouth to ask how you're doing, maybe she thought of inviting you to swim or slide down the slides, but seeing you makes her reconsider. You look tired. Your body has a lot of energy, but your mind is exhausted from the uncomfortable journey.

Luz: I have a feeling this level didn't become your favorite place.

She thinks they can go down a couple of levels to a warmer place.

Luz: And when you're more cheerful, I'll take you to a place you'll definitely like. This time for sure, I won't fail. Momo assured me you'd go crazy when you find out that place exists! Oh! I almost forgot.

She pulls two cream twinkies from her backpack.

Luz: You can eat one now if you feel like it, but I recommend saving the other one.

You look at the package she extends to you. She smiles.

Luz: It looks like Achilles, doesn't it?

She refers to the mascot.

3/3
Rolero Powellite-32dabb No.5751 es
3d2fce02c5a5e8a78e5497ec8337308314f5dabe018947832c82b679c18645cc.jpg
156 KB 1192×670
c73ecbf3f1a4492e7f42573d437dd6ddc0665bad47e6202307bf2dbca94568cd.jpg
112 KB 850×1190
6a8572b412a501101db408ac3c272d2df40788b20df8f8f90c267cc6cffc96f5.jpg
52 KB 736×503
e22b4897712dd2e91998ef230f278cfcef8a33e5d17142045db2d01cee542a57.jpg
67 KB 500×682
>>5740
<Donatello Lombardi (Day 37, Hour 10)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 70/70
Hunger: 31/31 - Thirst: 40/40
-Strength: 5 + ? Lark's Nutcracker
-Agility: 5
-Endurance: 7 + 5 Hazmat Suit (Anti-radiation. Child-sized)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 1/4
Emma
Techniques:
-Bat-breaker: For one turn, use 1d100 rolls. Sacrifices the wielded bat.

???
She was about to tell you her reasons, but the appearance of Team Dawn interrupted her. Your last gesture is a hug. Dejected, you retreat, join the adventurers, and together you cross the door.

The journey took several days, the adventurers offered you food, drink, and medicine; you can attest that keeping you alive and calm was the priority of those three. Cabal never revealed his benefactor's name, but that seemed to matter little to you. Not even the anomalous wonders of the levels you crossed could free you from your stupor; you always looked defeated, almost like a zombie.

Coach: You're a disgrace! Filthy scum! So pathetic you could be in a modern art museum! I should cut off your dick so you don't contaminate the world, but I'm just a hallucination!

An imaginary spit splashes your face. You don't even bother to wipe it off, what's the point?

Halfway through the journey, the kunoichi named Nomura went ahead to gather information, a mission that took her a whole day. After she returned to the makeshift camp they had set up, she clarified that your mother was no longer on level 26, but had gone down to a high-society meeting on level 5. To a winter ball, no less.

Nomura: Your mother must be someone important.

Cabal takes a sip from his infinite canteen, swallows, looks at them, and announces it's time to continue.

...

Level 7
The market is flooded with a medley of aromas, flowers, fruits, fish, and the scent of the almond sea. Gondolas navigate the canal that divides the sidewalks. You got distracted by your depression and separated from Team Dawn, at which point a hand grabs your arm. It's a woman supported by crutches; she looks you up and down, and her gaze falls when you don't seem to be the person she expected.

Catherine: I'm sorry, little one. I mistook you for someone else.

She lets go of you, moments before a man behind her calls her. A tall, strong subject, with a handsome profile, self-assured, with a silver compass on his waist. Catherine approaches him, allows herself a hug, and together they share a kiss before heading into the rock figurine and ornament shop they both run. The rings on their hands show they are married. Some parishioners dressed in blue were buying them a blue stone statue in honor of their god. It seems that man got everything he wanted...

Everything opposite to you.

Another hand grabs your arm, thicker and rougher. Dick, the mute knight, returns you to the group.

1/2
Rolero Powellite-32dabb No.5752 es
ef25a3752d6258222b477819768e798c1b83c7970b26a63c690e6b5bf4151ecd.webp
182 KB 1200×645
f420aaa2771bd5f06fc54b61f6afcec7b00e61f0516cf07ce23f4e5ba91ed0f1.webp
214 KB 1080×719
a905334792794488933d5ffe69e49f0542c63b4fb27f90445a74106d8a82459a.jpg
37 KB 500×370
9c4d505a115df891713dd56d5e35894f0e40806d9e4867669aeb8f40f789f43c.webp
36 KB 678×900
764fcdb18c81ae01564f9b4b15a1d5f6e9dcaf11f136bf5314d9a88f5b62bdf8.jpg
158 KB 850×392
>>5751
<Donatello Lombardi (Day 37, Hour 12)
HP: 108/110
Energy: 37/70
Hunger: 0/31 - Thirst: 7/40
-Strength: 5 + ? Lark's Nutcracker
-Agility: 5
-Endurance: 7
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 1/4
Emma
Techniques:
-Bat Breaker: For one turn, use 1d100 rolls. Sacrifice the wielded bat.

Level 5
They arrive at the hotel lobby, a wide chandelier illuminates the opulent furniture. Cabal heads to the reception desk and asks the sasquatch butler a couple of questions. The winter ball is being held in the ballroom on the 33rd floor. Cabal returns and clarifies that information for you.

Cabal: Since we don't have an invitation or noble lineage, we'll use the service stairs.

Team Dawn sneaks into the boiler room area, a secluded and private part of the hotel where metal exhales skin-melting vapors, meters of cobwebs hang from the corners, and rust floats like a noxious frost. You move through the shadows, avoiding monkeys and other entities. You cross a door and reach a staircase that ascends in a zigzag, a soot-stained sign on the wall indicates you are on the ground floor.

Cabal: This is as far as we go. You'll have better luck finding your mother if you go alone... Remember, 33rd floor. Try not to draw attention, if anyone asks you, say you came to shine shoes.

Team Dawn leaves the way they came. You are completely alone. With nothing else to do, you begin the ascent of shame.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sXyRAsBp998&t=1s
Sweat soaks your vision, you can't take it, you shed your suit to continue in a t-shirt and boxers... You didn't need any more weight to carry, you had enough with the weariness of your spirit. Every now and then you look at the sign that appears: Floor 10, Floor 11, Floor 12. The suffering seems infinite. You feel like Sisyphus...

And indeed you are.

A giant baseball blocks your path to the stairs, surely an eccentricity or a joke by the rich. You extend your little arms, grunt as you push, the ball rolls, each step is harder than the last. Minutes turn into hours, your liquids and nutrients are devoured by your body searching for strength from any corner. The red thread spins in front of you, the words Major League Baseball repeat like a cursed mantra. Floor 17, Floor 18, Floor 19.
You've been in punishment for three hours, a part of you tells you it's over, that the dance is done and your mother has moved on with her life. But you keep pushing, because you feel like you have nothing left, because your body is now a living dead whose only reason for existence is to reach the correct floor. You push the ball, kick away the skeletons of others who fell before, pause for a moment, and lean your back against the ball to stop it from crushing you. Breathing is hard, everything is difficult. But there's no other way, you gather what breath you can and turn to continue. Floor 17, Floor 18, Floor 19.

Floor 27. You didn't notice on the stairs, but after stopping at the zigzag landing to breathe, you notice the architectural style is different, the door to the hallways is made of glass, and you can see the walls of a silent hospital. A ventilation slit carries a conversation between a man and a woman to you.

"It's not your fault... It's no one's fault. These things... They happen sometimes."

"No, I refuse! Not to us! He's a child! A baby! He doesn't deserve to die because of...! Because of what?! Chance?!"

The man's voice shifts between sorrow and a search for understanding. The woman's is a mix of fury and despair.

"No! I reject this reality! I-I know what I have to do..."

You can't stay there listening to murmurs forever. You place your numb arms against the ball and continue the ascent.

Floor 28...

Floor 29...

Floor 30...

Floor 31...

Floor 32...

Floor 33. You move the ball to a corner where it won't be in your way and stand at the door. Your arms hang at your sides, too tired to move. You push with your body to make way. You cross the hallway, none of the few guests you encounter pay you any attention; to them, you are an insignificant speck of dust.

You cross double doors and reach the ballroom. The monkey butlers are already clearing the tables, and only a handful of guests remain. You're late. It's over.

Lady Goldenstein: Yes, after the tragic disappearance of my dear brother, I had no choice but to accept the inheritance and take charge of the family.

You don't recognize the voice immediately, but it sounds powerfully familiar. But more importantly, when your gaze meets the owner of the voice, you also glimpse the person she's talking to.

The dress couldn't be more unfamiliar, but the rest is her, her kind gaze, her smile, it's your mother, closer than ever.

All that's left is to run to her. No one is watching you, nothing will stop you. It's the finish line.

2/2
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5753 es
452a9495c5f1919949f777173b060163b0f1dca32fe3670aea58d4926b8c2b81.webp
17 KB 250×405
>>5740
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 60, Hour 13)
HP: 140/150
Energy: 45/80
Hunger: 37/40 - Thirst: 37/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 10
-Stamina: 10
-Luck: 2
Inventory:
-Pockets 0/4
Techniques
-Ultra Instinct: Maximum secret of the body's judgment by itself (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it is used).

Level 10
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZAyVA9Uhs4You are frustrated, eager to tear at something with your nails and scream at the sky to stop spitting oddities at you. But the pressure only increases.

Sue: P-Please don't leave me.

You lower your face to the girl with tear-soaked eyes. The first time you've heard her refer to herself without using her name. You ask her to be strong and hold on on the bus. She sniffs, rubs her fists over her eyes, and nods.

Sue: Sue will wait here.

The black girl moves up a seat and hugs Sue from behind, her eyes wide with terror and her voice trembling, she's less accustomed to oddities than you are.

Nadjela: I'll take care of her... I can't do more! I'm just a simple university student, not a warrior. T-Tell me when a monster can be defeated with an essay on racial discrimination in the art world.

A warrior, that's you, an otaku swordswoman. As you leave the bus and feel yourself buffeted by the snow, with two fearsome enemies waiting and the sky black as ink, you could almost feel like a desperate Japanese cartoon protagonist on the edge of the abyss. The machete wasn't a katana, but it would do. You catch up to Francine and hand her the orb so she can negotiate with the rat king.

Francine: What do you want me to do with what?

She blinks, looks at the orb, looks at you, looks at the three-headed rat. She thinks it's madness. You turn your back and line up with Hank and Leon. The three of them glare at the clown who smiles back at them and wiggles his hips.

Art: !...!

The party assistant raises the banner over his head with both hands and runs towards you. You notice Hank's shoulders tense. You grip the machete, move one foot forward, and get into an attack stance. You are no longer Ice Irene, never as strong, but you have the taste of experience, you can return blows and-
León draws the revolver from his pocket and fires. A hole breaks through the clown's forehead, releasing dark blood at high pressure, his neck cracks backward and he falls on his back in the middle of the road. In the snow, the clown looks like the victim of a shootout, almost innocent. León blows on the smoking barrel of the gun. Hank lowers his rifle and faces the gunman.

Hank: That was... Pretty predictable, actually. I don't know what we were expecting.

Knocks on the glass. You turn your face to the bus, at the windows are Nadjela and Rosynini shaking their arms/legs, pointing and shouting warnings that it's still moving. Who? You turn your face back to the road just as the clown sits up as if pushed by a spring. Hank jumps, León drops the cigarette he was smoking. An inverted pentagram with a 9 in the middle glows on the assistant's forehead, the hole the projectile left magically closes...

Dark.

Francine: Careful! He made a deal with nine demons to extend his life!

The woman warns from behind.

Hank: How the hell do you know that?!

An alarmed man from Florida asks, stepping back a few paces and racking the bolt of his rifle.

Francine: I was a Satanist in my youth.

The men incredulously turn their heads towards her. Francine frowns and snorts.

Francine: What? It was the 70s. Didn't you guys burn out stages?

It changes nothing, you came to fight. You let out a cry of fury (?) and throw yourself at the clown who is planting a hand on the ground to get up. You hit his back, he grunts. You continue. One, two, three times, the cuts open folds that reveal bone, each slash is -20 frustration for you. Blood splashes your face and gets in your mouth, it's disgusting!

León: Kid, don't get too close to him.

He warns at the same time as he raises the revolver and decides to shoot three times.

--Art the Christmas clown (8)
HP: 80/100
-Strength: 16 + 18 Firefighter's Axe + 1d50 = 46
-Agility: 16 - 4 Firefighter's Axe + 1d50 = 12
-Endurance: 16

--Hank
HP: 110/110
-Strength: 12 + Winchester Rifle (x2 damage. Add total agility to damage. 9/15) + 1d50 = 41
-Agility: 8 + 1d50 = 6
-Endurance: 13

--León
HP: 150/150
-Strength: 15 + Revolver (x2 damage. 7/8) + 1d50 = 10 + 1d50 = 19 + 1d50 = 36
-Agility: 20 + 1d50 = 25
-Endurance: 15
Palacios Rhodochrosite-c06653 No.5754 es
>>5744

Hold on there, little sir, I know stats need double points past 10, but half of 6 isn't 2, it's 3. You should have 14, 13, 14 instead of what you put Also I know not, but if Wesker got burned, the snow there must have melted. Does that count as an aquatic environment? It doesn't make any difference in this situation, but it would be good to use that before the roleplay ends.

"Moving on then"

He keeps yelling at Radiohead for a while until he has to eat the crap of working for free and has to leave. On the outskirts, they tell him that to be a ninja you need to diet and exercise. Seeing the state his double is in, it's not worth it, because he's pretty sure he could beat him 1v1 as he is.

"HEY! HEY! DUDE, IF YOU'RE GONNA DO THAT, AT LEAST CHARGE AT THE OTHERS!"

He pulls up his mask to smoke in peace, taking his time while contemplating the view from so high up. Only when he finishes it does he decide to lend a hand with the effigy. Shortly after, he's surprised that the tall guy wasn't kidding about immolating himself. Amidst shouts, he tries to convince him to take down a couple of the opposing team before dying. Although in the end, it turns out the fucking idiot ends up dying without having contributed a damn thing.

"Worry less about the big guy and more about the ones here!"

He steps on the head of the first frozen one he sees without hesitation. It doesn't take him long to find out that more are coming. The mass of enemies forces him to retreat to the same spot with the rest. As best he can, he tries to thrust in all directions with the little knife he has in an attempt to take down as many as he can. "Fucked" was an understatement to define the situation he was in, because no matter how much he hit, it didn't seem like it was going to end.

"Nobody's going to hear you if they all die! Stop fucking around and do something! And don't forget to pay me for the earlier stuff!"

1d50 = 25 1d50 = 37
Rolero Powellite-32dabb No.5755 es
91065d801ec5f2700936e8775dd080c53219a4f28755673805be5002bf62934c.webp
11 KB 480×270
>>5741
>>5742
>>5743
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 17. Hour 17)
HP: 90/110
Energy: 17/70
Hunger: 15/20 - Thirst: 16/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Liminal Dictionary
Pencil
Notebook

Level 10
Hilda (from the futuuuure) is going to talk to Marie, yes... Again! Because last time the nerd was useless, she just panted, anyway. Yes, I also noticed the canon-slip when rereading the turn

The ice cream grandma arrives and you jump like a spring, earning a sideways glance from Hilda. She grabs your shoulder and in one calm movement, pulls you back to her, sticking close.

You choose blue. The bully chooses white. Ashley watches, Ashley learns. Hilda licks one side repeatedly and the dessert tilts like a reckless tower threatening to collapse, but she moves the cone and repositions it with repeated licks of her tongue. That doesn't stop her from trying yours, or inviting you to try hers. You follow her example, only you are more restrained, more attentive, suggestive...

Hilda licks the other side almost without paying attention, she's focused on the gluffs floating in the background, you know she secretly uses them as balls to play with, but in secret because it would be animal cruelty (Or entity cruelty?). Coordinated without being so, you touch the top of the ice cream at the same time, caressing each other's tongues. For Hilda, a wet, warm, and unexpected touch that quickly brings her gaze back to you. You pull your mouths away, The bully watches you with wide eyes and a slight blush on her cheeks, while you... You have to decide what's sweeter, vanilla or Hilda.

They save Doggo from the stalker. You ask who it was, and the bully shrugs.

Hilda: Some crazy Marietta.

The scene plants an idea, and since the world is made for the brave, you plan to execute it.

Hilda: Blech! Blech!

She spits red pulp onto the ground and throws the wild tomato she grabbed from the wheat stalks to the floor. Doggo approaches and nibbles at the remains.

Hilda: It tastes like candle wax!

Her lips were left red, the anomalous tomato was full of lipstick. It doesn't matter, you came into this life to do what you had to do. You hold on and lick her cheek twice. As after the accidental brush of your tongues on the ice cream, Hilda's face is bathed in surprise. You feel you made a mistake, and every mistake has consequences. Hilda falls on you...

Don: What happened to her face?
The guy with the bag asks when you reach the lobby of the house, helping move a full-length mirror alongside Achilles.

Hilda: None of your business.

She snaps back sharply, while you take the chance to look yourself in the mirror. Dozens of tiny lip marks cover the girl's face on the other side. Whoever's responsible must really adore her.

...

Four letters, two syllables: Love. If Hilda is near, you can't catch your breath; if Hilda goes far, you can't catch your breath... Love is like an invisible elastic rope tying you together, pulling, tightening, tickling your soul and making you tremble. It makes sense it has so few letters—when you truly feel it, there's no room for doubt.

Charmy: If you want soldiers, go to MEG. Adventurers are free souls, and sometimes cooperative... But there's no chain dragging us by the neck.

The dwarf on the other side of the desk knows things. You take the chance to ask her about the inhabitants. You try to hide your interest, but it's obvious your curiosity centers on Hilda. Charmy leans back in her seat; now, from your position, you can only see what peeks above her nose.

Charmy: They're a tribe living underground on level 15. They survived the hostile environment thanks to a unique, forbidden spice growing there—made them strong, fast... And very wary of outsiders. Any attempt to contact them usually ends in bloody brawls.

The bloody brawls you're interested in come from the hands of a certain blue-haired girl you'd like to support... Like a dog. But the leader's too busy these days to train you.

Charmy: Why don't you ask Hilda to train you? Do you want your improvement to be a surprise or something? If you don't want to tell her, I can think of something. Maybe Don's available—he's been fighting entities his whole life, and Momo can imitate Doggo's moves better than anyone.

Better than you?!

You agree to get checked by Julia, though the fear of disappearing lingers inside you.

Charmy: Maybe she just returned to reality.

Same difference—if you went back home now from this side, it'd seem like you vanished. Your eyes water. Charmy sighs.

Charmy: Hey, listen... For now, nothing's certain, so let's not be negative. Okay? But it's fine—if you do vanish, and I insist I don't think it'll happen—I'll explain to Hilda what happened. She won't be happy, that's for sure.

Before, you longed to leave. Now, your sorrow is exactly that.

1/?

Sorry for the delay. Christmas is always busy. If I get the chance tomorrow, I'll send the rest.
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5756 es
0648161220065b47b886fdac093b955559c7c0b75bc3663c03f524cd26e9f46c.jpg
147 KB 1200×800
>>5748
>Marie
The warning isn't enough and in a moment, the previous comical scenario is reinterpreted by the adorable spirit with expected bad results. At least she's okay, or so it seems. Marie is able to sigh in relief.

"Je..." -and yes, to laugh a little- "what luck..."

If it was a little funny, but don't do it again! She already has enough worries with things that aren't funny at all, like a putrid hand torn off by bites, which almost tore her little heart out of fright too... Although this is a good sign in a way.

<I'm just saying... Most likely she went loooooney.

"I-I wouldn't say that's GOOD."

(Good image by the way, very sharp.)

That's a thought that crosses her mind for a moment but she doesn't finish expressing it. The good control in this new form of communication they found deserves recognition... but the other thing was more important and had her agitated.

<Look at the skin tone, yellow? Purple? What color do you think that is?

"Uhh... I-I'd rather not look, Lunita..."

<She was very pale. I bet she'd been lost here for weeks, ran out of supplies and decided to drink this contaminated water, the blackened veins are the key clue.

"Good heavens..."

That's horrible... As she turns, Lunita can see how Marie can't help but swallow. There's a possibility she'll suffer the same fate... Maybe taking the flashlight doesn't sound like such a bad idea now.

<just stay sane and don't consume this water.

"Yeah..." -meaning, it's not like she wanted to... But it's not bad to be reminded-

<There are two things we can do... A-are you already feeling the-the madness?

"Huh? N-No-! N-no- don't ask me that..." -then with all the visions of that devil she makes her doubt- kek

A while later, she finds herself with options. Marie, true to her long life of following before choosing, passes the responsibility to Lunita. In her mind it seems like a good idea, as well as something her sword would like to do.

<What? Who? M-Me?

(Yes! You. I-I'm sure you'll choose well.)

(Oh... I-I just noticed I stutter in my thoughts too... What a shame...)

<Okay, eeeeh, hmmm, let's see... That way!
(Uhh...) -where is there-

<No, wait. Turn around and over there...

"Through... Here?" -she says, turning and facing the first hallway she finds-

<Stop! Stop!

"I-I'm still!" -she exclaims, raising a small hand to confirm she's following instructions-

<To your left is better, yes, I feel it 100%, it's the path to victory.

"T-to my left. Okay..." -she looks to that side- "over there, then..."

She walks straight towards where they're indicating. Everything is quite normal for a moment.

"Did you kn-know-? AAHH"

She was even planning to drop a fun fact until a horrible, melting-looking creature made her jump. Her phone slips from her fingers, and amidst several exclamations like 'AY' and 'nonono' she catches it.

She hurriedly focuses the flashlight on the trembling monster and prepares with all she has to run at the first opportunity... or have to call Lunita and see how she'd manage to defend herself with one hand...

But she stays there, waiting for something and not committing to anything. Neither makes a move. Is this like Jurassic Park? Marie's hand slowly moved back, and between sweat and nerves, she grabbed the moon sword.

<Wait... It's not moving. Is it afraid of us?

"..." -she blinks a couple of times-

Marie looks better, from top to bottom and bottom to top. The figure turns out to be little more than some broken machine or something similar. Although it looks horrible, Marie's upper body can't help but feel relieved. She sighs in unison with the spirit accompanying her.

<Let's continue to the right. My blade won't withstand any more scares.

"Ahh... I-I feel a little silly..." -she mutters to herself as she catches her breath and straightens up- "ayy..." -she sighs- "yeah.. t-right... Let's go."

...
Once seated, she can momentarily free herself from all extra weight. She's very sweaty... So she ends up taking off her sweater too and setting it aside for a moment. Her phone stays in its pocket anyway. There's some discomfort, like some irritation there, she rubs it over her clothes, telling herself she shouldn't scratch... She'll have to look in the mirror later.
The shoes are the next phase, she hates having wrinkly toes, and more than this not being the least she likes to see on her foot once she frees it. A fungus protrudes, Marie makes a face of disgust and terror.

"O-oh my-"

She had heard of foot fungus, but this was ridiculous! She could hardly believe it. It gives her a horrible feeling to know that something like this is coming out of her own body.

<Great trick for infinite food!

"Huh?!, No! Disgusting- i-it's horrible!"

She sees it again. She looks away and reaches out her hand. She grabs it between her fingers.

"Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew." -she repeats as she touches it and crowns it with a- "aau!" -when she finally pulls it off, that hurt- "ayy..." -sore, she looks at the fungus-

<Red mushroom Function-

"JAH!" -she exclaims and throws it to the other corner with total repulsion- "red mushrooms are not for eating..."

She looks at her foot again. The thing left traces on her skin. Soon Marie finds herself washing the area in the pool with disgust and haste, as if she were a total mysophobe.

"Ew ew ew."

She repeats. This scene would take place with the camera in the distance, a typical anime shot. kek

Now de-fungused and therefore calm, she ends up leaning back calmly against the wall, savoring what was left of the bar. Which brings to light a doubt she had always had about her little sword.

<Nope, but I can cut. It's the closest thing I do to eating.

"Hmm..." -she understands, but supposes it's not quite the same-

<I also like to be polished from time to time...

"Oh..."

She has a fleeting little memory because of that. Hilda sharpening her weapon, Marie feels bad for a second... Maybe she has neglected her little sword a bit. But that would be dealt with later. First, Marie focuses to speak. Maybe it's not the best moment, the most special... no. It's just another moment... but who knows when they'll be able to talk face to face again. So personally...

Even if it's not the ideal moment... maybe it's not always about that. Marie decides to open up. To say all the things she owed Lunita... things she might have even thought, and she had received them as a rebound. But that it wasn't the same as saying it directly, the way she does... or so she supposes.

<Y-Yes, it's nothing... We got over it... That's what counts... Right...?

"Y-yes... I-I think so...
<It was lucky you found me... You're my best owner. N-No offense! But... Sometimes... I feel like I was made for you...

"Huh?" -she looks at her with some curiosity-

<Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to make it weird. You know how everything was on the other side, compared to the antis you're so... Ideal. Kind-hearted.

"Jahh..." -she lets out a puff of air accompanied by a laugh, closes her eyes for a second, smiling. When she opens them, she leaves them half-closed, remembering with some discomfort- "kind-hearted..." -of course she has her reservations about accepting that. But...- "y-yes... that place wasn't nice, huh...? it makes me... it makes me feel a bit sorry..." -even if she finds it a bit hard to accept her kind heart, it's true that they were... bad. When comparing, it's understandable-

"But... Yes." -she says, looking up a little, still not looking at her sword- "It was luck... even if I took you... o-on a silly whim... and justified it so poorly... agh..."

She stole the sword from a corpse just because... because she wanted a sword... from watching too much anime... in a way, it's a bit horrible if she dwells on it. Marie rubs the back of her neck and looks at the ceiling, with a grimace and a groan she does what she always does when something hurts her to think about. She tries to ignore it... although this time only halfway.

"..." -sigh- "s-still... I-I don't regret it, you know...?" -she finally looks, albeit sideways, at Lunita- "I-I mean... it's something else I wanted to tell you..." -she stops touching the back of her neck and looking at the ceiling to face the wall again, her hands resting at the sides of her little butt- "I..." -she tilts her head as she extends that last 'o'- "...actually..." -she raises a little hand and finally looks at the sword completely- "I wouldn't be here without you, Lunita... Y-You saved me... A-and Sezh too. A-and I'll always be grateful for that. I want you to know that..." -now she looks away again, going back to rubbing the back of her neck, was that awkward? she wonders- "ah..."

To lighten the mood, she looks back at her with a slightly calmer smile.

"I... It-it didn't seem weird to me..." -the thing from before- "uh... i-it's nice to feel this way... I hope... I hope you're right... b-because I don't think we'll be separated for a long time..." -it's her way of reciprocating. She'd love to tell her they're made for each other... she's just not sure-

1/3
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5757 es
78dbab02e81e7ac671916887182199d1af720c3dcd4a06c855592138194b9c36.jpg
11 KB 236×236
79d2ec5907d443bf2832dc231d58233f9ccb65e12a74cc77ff19fffe936e9f14.png
56 KB 498×281
298d937c5addfe51e506b69f0badf8bdea020a8b9461eea5f5483edfe23fe0a3.gif
131 KB 498×426
>>5748
>Marie
<What happened was painful...

sighhhh

That does make her let go of some life as she leans back. Painful is an understatement... That day she felt her life ended. That's why she was in a dark place. Darker than this one. She never imagined herself like this... such a violent decline from which she couldn't seem to get up... maybe sooner or later she would have voluntarily gone to beg Sezh for the pills she refused if it weren't for everything that happened before.

<I guess Excalibur also suffered a lot facing evil, right?

"Y-yes..."

There are tons of King Arthur stories. Accompanying him, Excalibur must have witnessed tragedies through the roof. Losses, deceptions, betrayals. The list of the king's pain must seem so small in comparison to Marie's that it's ridiculous.

But anyway, the nerd doesn't believe in pain competitions. She doesn't minimize her feelings or Arthur's... the important thing is that she does. Both Lunita and Excalibur could witness suffering several times.

>125651
>>5750
Light! Finally some light... and with it comes Luz. Through a call that lifts her spirits.

<I love you more. Oh, sorry. I'm not supposed to keep talking after saying "over." Over.

giggle "d-don't worry... but I love you more." -the typical "I love you more" battle by phone had already begun-

The meeting was close. Or so it seemed at least. To be sure which path to take, the nerd decides to keep Luz talking while she tries both paths. The first is the one where there's no one.

<Aesthetic, yes!

"Heh... Aesthetic." -Marie isn't pressing the button yet-

<Statues of Caesar?

"Caesar...?" -what. Now she presses the button- "Caesar?" -she's surprised- "Julius Caesar...?"

(Honestly, I wouldn't know how to recognize a statue of-)

Her eyes widen when she realizes something.

"W-wait. Wait... Neon lights?, Aesthetic...?" -that reminds her of something- "uh- d-doesn't it look more like David...?"

IT'S YOUR MOOOVE. I'VE MADE UP MY MIND. A song plays in her head that seems so distant in time... better times. Vaporwave, big chungus & chill. Marie would have been about 10 years old when she was exposed to that music, and she claimed to be a fan of it because it was the trend at the time. Clearly, in reality, she only knows "Floral Shoppe" from vaporwave and the fan songs from that time made with series like Rick and Morty...

No. Not even that. She knows 'it's your move', she's never heard the whole Floral Shoppe album. She doesn't even know it's a full album. It's good by the way And she also doesn't know that the bust on the cover is Helios, she thinks it's David. And if Luz confirmed such a resemblance, the nerd would say to herself...

(Oof, reference.)

<I saved you a couple.

(Nice.)

Again, she doesn't speak. She's holding her phone out, looking for a signal, apparently the first one makes it fail a bit, so she turns around and rejoins the old man. She lowers her phone... well... she'd have to ask permission to pass, so she does.

<You talk too loud, young lady. You scare the fish. They're shy.

"Oh-" -she covers her mouth- "uh... s-excuse me..." -she says now in a whisper-

(I thought I read online that they only say that so you don't bother them...)

"uh... I..." -now in a low voice, she prepares to ask permission once more before the line is yanked hard, Marie is amazed- "D-did you catch one?!"

She doesn't know if she wants to see. It's always made her a bit sad to see a fish hooked on the line... but at the same time, she can't look away out of curiosity about what the fauna in this sea is like. And it doesn't take long for it to arrive.
Torn from its habitat... it's a huge fish. But that's normal... the weird thing was that... it had... clothes. For some reason. And... it was anime clothes.

(Eh...)

She stares at it, bewildered. She really doesn't know how to react to this.

(...uh... tsunderplane.)

She relates it to something and decides not to dwell on it. She wouldn't have time for it anyway, as the old man packs up the tsundertuna and proceeds to leave without saying goodbye. Marie watches him, curious to see which way he would go. Maybe there's a secret entrance just for pigs? No, the man is carrying a bag with tiny doors.

(Aww!)

It's very endearing. Marie is an ultra mega fan of things that are smaller than they should be. But this wouldn't last long, as the man makes the door grow as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Marie can't help but be perplexed despite knowing about things like artifacts.

(Is he going to...?)

It seems so. He pushes it and it opens... although there's nothing on the other side.

(...bruh)

Honestly, she expected some kind of portal or something like that.

<I knew that would happen. Doors don't work like that. Marie, tell him!

(Eh... Actually there are some doors that-!)

Marie is instantly distracted. A few meters behind the door, her partner appears. The nerd's face lights up completely, the coffee girl waves to her. She responds by exclaiming 'LIGHT!' overflowing with joy. The Colombian doesn't hesitate to run, and she, now ignoring the place or anything that wasn't her heart, also ran to meet her... and...

Did she... split... from herself?

She sees herself, she sees the hug. And she doesn't feel it, she hears the voices of her sword and Luz's next to her. On her communicator... it's like being in two places at once or something. But... more than anything, she was being the third person. For a moment, she allowed herself to look... at herself.

Life smiles at her with images of all kinds. Her chest fills with sensations of all kinds, her tummy is an infinity of knots, of sensations... seeing herself and Luz in wedding dresses is what makes her overflow with emotion. A little kiss closes the montage like a cherry on top, and when the door closes, Marie's face is full of tears. That... it reached her heart in a unique way.
Very cute OP, it gave me feels.

<Marie, w-what was all that?

Marie is stunned. She needs a second. That was... a lot to process.

<Alternat-ve futures.

"Fu...tures...?"

So that's what it was... Marie finally seems to recover. Her eyes lower, as if she just noticed her tears. The girl sniffs and proceeds to wipe her eyes with her wrist hastily.

"Ahh..."

She's out of commission for a moment. She sighs, finishing reorienting herself before looking at the man.

"D-does that mean-...? Ow!"

She has to look away from what he pulls out next, a rectangle that shines like the sun. It hurt her eyes, she tries to look, but she does it like looking at the sun, with her eyes squinted and her hand in the middle as if to reduce the discomfort.

"Agh- what is that...?" -she mutters to herself-

The old man brings in the things he has with him. Marie can't let him leave just like that!

"W-wait! I was going to ask if that means that-"

And he leaves. The door closes behind him and disappears, leaving her eyes to rest, but causing her arms to droop, hanging like a doll's.

"...that I can... reach that..."

She stares at nothing for a moment. Then she lowers her gaze and sighs.

"H-he's gone..."

2/3
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5758 es
8b37fd3477a35480380dac7b8a96dacc4ca0c93a60ca7c4a389033a0954cb2eb.png
63 KB 465×516
7c2cf4ee55fb7e7e23570071ef63e12dc54dc14bde8fd3cfde04057693fb748f.jpg
48 KB 681×450
1b4d1c387207200733f71c866141dd0ba405a7442e69598b13059911b95eef3b.jpg
181 KB 990×1600
>>5749
>Marie
(B-but... Yes, right...? If it's possible, then...)

Doubt is also opportunity. The beginning of that thought sprouts in her little head, the first leaf of a small seedling... but she'd have some other time to think about it later. Her phone rings again, interrupting her.

<Marie, are you still there...?

"..."

Honestly, not entirely. She finds herself somewhat dazed, unable to stop thinking, reliving those terrible moments, and others so beautiful that she now knows and that the future holds for her. Marie forces herself to raise her hand, which until recently held the phone like a string holds a clock. She presses the button to her mouth, and opens it to say nothing for a good moment. The intention to speak was there, but upon reaching it, she found herself blank, or rather, she had so many other things on her mind that this was the last thing she thought of.

She shook her head. She won't stop thinking about it, but she needs to focus for a second.

"Uh- Y-yes... It's just-"

She freezes again. Her tongue is suspended in time once she realizes she's about to reveal too much. A new insecurity appears, not like the small sprout from before, but like the Big Bang. 'Should I tell him that?' She doesn't know... she herself doesn't even know if she would have liked to see all that. Being told the future is something that Marie now discovers is very confusing.

"Uh-..." -she shakes her head- "...sorry... yes. I-I was spacing out... that's all. Change." -she means she was distracted, not literally on the moon, although according to the future, perhaps one day...-

She raises her gaze. She rubs the back of her neck as she contemplates the wide sea view again. Everything is the same as before, peaceful without being exactly that ocean. It's as if nothing has changed, although unlike the water, she herself is now somewhat troubled. She truly wants that future... well... most of it... but it's understandable.

She's worried about taking a wrong step that would make her lose it.

"Oh God..."
She looks away. Her eyes wander around the place as Luz speaks. This reminds her of her plan... she should move. Her future didn't involve staying to live here after all. After a final sigh and an 'ok...' she picks up the phone and presses the button.

"Uh- W-what were you saying today...? Keep telling me... over..."

She's referring to the Twinkies. Now Marie's voice was laden with the almost pathetic nervousness that characterized her in the past. Once Luz answers her, whether interested or not, she would use the sound of her voice as a guide to her owner. As if chasing the red thread.

Stairs, bridges... at one point she has to navigate by pedal boat. A now calmer Marie uses Lunita as a paddle while she cruises the ocean.

(Like in Deltarune...)

She remembers a certain scene from chapter 2. tfw Marie couldn't see the premiere of chapters 3 and 4 then she looks at Lunita.

"H-how are you doing, Lunita? You're not getting dizzy, are you...?"

This couldn't be worse than the spinning chair anyway. While paddling, she looks at the sky, the boat, and the rest... it's not bad... but she wishes she were sharing this moment with Luz.

"Heavens... This reminds me a bit of Venice..." -she's never seen Venice, but she knows of it- "Do you know what Venice is, Lunita?"

Maybe not.

"It's... a place on Earth... It's full of water and... I-it's famous because... because they always show it as the most romantic in the world..."

A sigh, this time of longing, escapes from her heart.

"Ayy... I always wanted to go with someone I love. It's like a dream... and-and now that I'm with Luz... I-I can only imagine going with her..." -she looks at the sky-

A thought bubble floats above her head, something Lunita can now see.

"We'd be together... on a night with many stars in the sky... and-and little lights from the houses that... that are like... dimly lit and..."

https://youtu.be/kme8W5Ocets?si=0V_9v_5vi-EP7BMf
"And... a beautiful song in Italian... b-because they sing to you while they take you... and-and we can't even understand it... b-but it's so pretty i-it doesn't matter..."
Marie had stopped rowing, clutching her little sword and holding the hilt against her chest, hands clasped together as she daydreams.

"A-and by the moonlight... S-she'd look so beautiful... a-and with the music it'd feel so nice... t-that... t-that... we'd move closer and... a-and..."

In her little mental movie, the girls lean in, close their eyes, and finally press their lips together in a sweet, tender kiss—ending the daydream. Marie blushes.

"Aa..."—she straightens up—"b-but... I-I think... that's not gonna happen anymore..."

She says before starting to row again.

"..aysh... W-why now..."

She's peeing herself.

...

Her face is one of irritation as she goes about her business.

(Aggh I can't believe I'm doing this like this, I feel like a freaking animal)

She's overwhelmed with shame just from the act.

<Marie?

"AAH! L-L-!"

She covers her face, deciding as camouflage to match the color of her hair.

"Aaaa godddd"

She's actually embarrassed to the point of a headache, can't believe they crossed paths at such an awkward moment.

(EARTH, SWALLOW MEEEE)

Once finished, Marie—who washed her hands in the nearby water—joins Luz with her hands still covering her face.

"Ayy forget that, please... Ugh!"

Her hands are pulled away from her face by her own surprise when she's suddenly hugged. Her wide, startled eyes soon soften, and her hands lower... but she doesn't return the hug, instead checking Luz's HP. Despite her exhaustion, Marie allows it. When their eyes meet, the nerd gives a weak smile, though clearly her mind is racing.

<I get the feeling this level didn't become your favorite place.

"Ja..."—she rubs the back of her neck—"u-uh... b-but... n-not the least favorite either...?"—meaning... it wasn't that bad. It's just that Marie experienced a lot in such a short time here—

She agrees to heading down to a warmer level. Nods with a 'seh...'

<And when you're feeling better, I'll take you somewhere you'll definitely love.

(A-another...?)

<This time I'm serious, no mistakes. Momo assured me you'd go crazy when you find out that place exists.

"G-gonna go crazy...?"—she finds it odd... but also intriguing—"W-why?"—in a good way, right?—

<Oh! Almost forgot.

"Hm?"

Marie watches curiously as her girlfriend pulls out a couple of sweets.

"A-ah—t-the twinkies..."

<You can eat one now if you want, but I'd recommend saving the other.

"Ja... S-sure..."—she's not actually hungry, but now plans to eat one because it feels like the right thing to do. She takes the first package—"t-thanks..."

<It kind of looks like Achilles, doesn't it?

"Huh?"—she looks at it, Marie blinks a few times, then realizes, snorts with amusement—"i-it's got the face... hahaha"—lets out a little giggle—"wait..."—she looks at Luz—"i-is that... making fun...? Y-you weren't making fun, right...?"—gives a mischievous look, because she's about to play a prank—"I'll tell him! I'll tell him you made that joke, yep!"

Marie exclaims, leaning forward, head tilted, one eyebrow raised, hands on hips. Her face is a perfect imitation of mock seriousness. Is Marie a dirty snitch? Well, she can't quite hide the smile betraying her silly joke.

"Jajaja"

She lets out some giggles from the belly. She's so dumb that even if Luz doesn't react at all to how obvious she was, she'd still be laughing just from having made the joke itself.

"I-it was a joke..."

She gives her a little hug. Luz always knows how to cheer her up.

"U-uh..."—looks away, embarrassed—"u-uhm—eh... O-okay, maybe that was dumb... Uh..."—gives a nervous smile—"e-eh... I-if I give you a gondola ride, you won't get mad...?"

Luz probably isn't mad—she's pretty understanding... but Marie's paranoid.

3/3
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5759 es
ef25a3752d6258222b477819768e798c1b83c7970b26a63c690e6b5bf4151ecd.webp
182 KB 1200×645
f3cc7a009f8042b64b8c4d9a5b7390564aa75f3f2fb42618268af406878606a2.jpg
129 KB 1280×686
e6d818bb862eb9fb349908c32b54196d057df5de5c41271d847c91a7ee1a96fe.jpg
59 KB 717×404
ba137f1d5a174c5baaee89b777ff6c50d4e0fb8ea43ea16fdb563c660797ff2c.jpg
158 KB 900×500
06672f60616cc4ffbfb0d60f8ccedb103346350f8a20e4b74f0e7c25509ad4c7.jpg
71 KB 1280×720
>>5755
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 22. Hour 8)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 50/70
Hunger: 10/20 - Thirst: 10/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Liminal Dictionary
Pencil
Notebook
-Sack 0/5

Level 10
Why didn't she stop? That's the question that crosses Marie's mind for an instant. An unknown that vanishes when the nerd presses her face into her partner's panties, her nose fighting against the annoying fabric. The musky heat moistens her skin and intoxicates her, making it difficult to think, and a strange thirst tortures her throat. Looking up, her eyelids are lowered, sleepy, but her pupils shine with willingness. Luz gives her a smile from above, her hands caress her scarlet hair. She seems calm, but a thread of saliva betrays her, a trace she quickly erases with a lick of her tongue.

Luz: You have to talk to her. Just be yourself isn't the advice a good class mediator would give. And try to stutter less, she'll appreciate it.

Marie guessed Hilda's fixation was about Cat, hooray! With victories like that, anyone gets emboldened, which is why she carefully nibbled and lowered the fabric, earning a pleasant murmur from her girl and sinking her face where the source emanates. Her mouth and the air she breathes are flooded with Luz, Marie barely controls the urge to bring her fingers to her lower parts and risk bursting like a geyser. Isn't she supposed to be returning the favor first?

Luz: And I told you so isn't something a good girlfriend would say to her girl.

Luz pushes her glasses up and places them on the desk. Marie lies on the wood, her brown knees planting themselves on either side of her face. Without her glasses, she can barely see what's above her; transparent drops with a sweet acidity slide down her face. The nerd asks for guidance. Luz gives her a mischievous look over her shoulder.

Luz: Just be yourself.

Brown flesh pushes the nerd's face, covering her mouth and her gaze. Marie was a tomato, now she's a chair. She could run out of air and die, kissing and licking like a desperate person while Luz's contained moans accompany in the background...

A true happy ending.

And so concludes the life and work of Marie Griffin... Kek, no. But this little scene ends here

...

Level 5
You contemplate your reflection between gold and burgundy. A band-aid covers your small nose. It's happened twice now that you got overconfident, ran, or hung upside down, and drenched your face with blood. It was a good hit you took when you came back from the sword. Dora, after examining you, assured you that you would soon heal completely... Or die within 24 hours from a stroke.

You've left those 24 hours behind, but you still had that annoying patch over your nostrils. On the bright side, you improved your ability to breathe through your mouth. It would be bad to stain the carpet; those strange big-headed monkeys that collect dust from the corners would surely be annoyed if it happened.

Hilda... I'll stay...

You lower your gaze. The marks of tentacles and suckers no longer torment your skin, but the memory bothers you, the phantom sensation of being pulled and feeling your bones crack. Your consolation was what happened next.
"I want to stay with you..."

She carried you in her arms and took you to Dora, then to her bed, where she hugged you until you fell asleep (Bad idea to do this after a strong blow to the head, but it turned out fine). You remember her voice in your ear, the soft repetition that you are safe and that she will take care of you forever.

If your future is to disappear, you might as well enjoy those moments.

Hilda: Psst! Catherine, over here.

She beckons you to go to the reception desk. You leave the polished pillar that served as your mirror, move carefully between the expensive furniture, dodge the shadow of the wide chandelier (It's so big you could swear it's going to fall), and reach the counter. Hilda extends her hands in front of her as if presenting a work of art. When you look where Hilda is pointing, that is, behind the counter, you find a very tall ape in a vest and tie, a name tag reveals his name. The ape leans over you.

Sebasquatch: This young lady made me understand that you are known to the sasquatch of the North Cascades, or perhaps to the Mohicans of Ohio. I don't have a special fondness for the rustic side of the family, but blood is thicker than water. I respect that.

You turn your face back to the tough girl. Hilda keeps looking at you with her mouth open in a smile as if to say: "Here it is! Bigfoot! Your friend!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9E6b3swbnWg
Nepotism gets them a table at the restaurant, a golden sign near the door indicates: "Le ciel liminal" ✩✩✩✩✩✩. A piano plays by itself, the bay windows show a winter landscape, the tablecloths are white silk, and the seat cushions are so comfortable your butt could move in there.

The place is the opposite of everything you know, even the salt shakers look like expensive glass ornaments. You in your coat and robe, Hilda in her worn clothes and backpack, are out of place. From behind you, you hear hurtful comments and giggles.

"And that riff-raff? Heavens, they let anyone in now."
"We'll have to fight to regain exclusivity. As my mommy says, cream is only for the born."
"They'll be someone's pet, my uncle has one like it. He uses it to practice with his shotgun."

You turn your big eyes towards the voices. The little girls, as cute as fairy tale princesses, are startled, but that doesn't stop them from hiding their lips with their hands and continuing to gossip.

"Oh! She's looking at us."
"Did you see her eyes? They look like an owl's."
"Such pretty hair wasted on such a veeeeery ugly girl."

You turn your face forward again. Hilda doesn't notice the innatas' comments; instead, she gets lost following the waiters and their trays with her gaze. It's no wonder she's hungry, you both used up all your supplies on the way down, both her backpack and your coat are limp. You hear a tapping under the table, you look and discover it's Hilda kicking her feet.

A monkey arrives. It places two metal bowls and cloth napkins on the table. The bowls are filled with water and lemon slices. Hilda brings one to her mouth and sips it like a pacifier. Her face wrinkles and tears spring to her eyes.

More laughter. You look back. The innatas are using the lemon bowls to dip and wash their little hands. They also ask the monkeys for the dishes they want.

2/2

<little names
If I see that it gives me problems with the character limit, I will delete them. For now, adding them doesn't affect me.
Murcielago de la mala suerte Alexandrite-3bfa7e No.5760 es
085ca33dae0b7d5dee80b8dfdb80beedb0e6f2bcdf154ff3fa6cdcb5639e81a8.jpg
62 KB 1280×720
>>5751>Mark I hate you lie
>Donny

Move on. He could only do that, move on, ignoring everything he left behind, everything he failed at, the path, the journey, everything became a blur as he moved towards the final destination.

Listlessly, he moved at a constant pace but forced his legs with each step, he ate but without tasting any bite, he didn't speak, his gaze was black and without light. He no longer had the strength or spirit to face even his own ramblings.

They change routes, his mother was now on another level.

>"Your mother must be someone important"

"I had never thought about it... but she is to me"

How long had his mother been here? What had she lived through? Could she perhaps endure the punishment that the storage rooms inflicted while he was incapable? He had no answers, and he didn't have the energy to ask more questions, he could only keep moving forward.

...

He gets separated from the group on level 7, the place where it all began... how long had he been in this damned place? He was so sure of himself, he thought he could handle anything, that he could protect his sister, that he could keep his integrity intact... how naive he was, how stupid.

He barely notices the woman speaking to him while he remains lost in his misery, and when he looks up his expression turns to surprise, even if only for a second. Catherine, and she was happy, some people were destined for that, they deserved it, and it made him happy, even if only a little, that one of them was a good person like her.

"No, I'm sorry" She walks away, continuing her life, perhaps they would never see each other again, and now he had to go back with the group, he wanted to say something more, the words struggled to come out "The baseball kid and his sister are grateful!" He tries to shout, to give a final message of thanks, if it hadn't been for her, who knows what would have happened to the Lombardis trapped on this level, it was the least he could do.

The least... yes, that was always it, the only thing he could do.

...
>>5752
They reach level 5, the place where his mother would be, and she was on a high floor, Donny had nothing more to add, he wanted to get there as soon as possible.

They enter the boiler room, the hidden industry of opulent eyes that made everything work, now he would be alone, when wasn't he? He had to go on his own.

"Thanks..." He thanks her and says goodbye, he turns around, seeing the monumental stairs that awaited him, his last ounces of determination were going to be spent on this.

...
In retrospect, going into a hot zone in a rubber suit wasn't a good idea, he takes it off and ties it to his waist as he continues climbing, floor after floor, sweat pouring from his body as the temperature squeezed every last ounce of energy he had left.

Like Sisyphus, the endless task of pushing the rock up the hill, or in this case, the giant baseball up the stairs, this was already a sick joke reaching ridiculous proportions, he would scream, but he didn't have the strength, or the energy. He would scream if he thought it was unfair, but at this point he couldn't.

He abandoned his sister, let another die, abandoned his friend, and abandoned yet another sister. This was his punishment, and he had to face it.

He extended his arms and began his push, continuing mechanically, fighting the pain in his muscles, floor after floor, major league Baseball, what a joke, he would give everything, he would give the baseball just to see his mother, to see his sister again, his father.

But he had nothing left to give, only his body and spirit, and he leaves them on the ground with every torturous step he takes. Floor after floor, dehydrated, hungry, exhausted, but focused, he had to reach his destination.

The echoes of arguments reach his ears, but he becomes deafened, he had to continue, he couldn't stand still, he could never stop.

...

He reaches the final door, and pushes the ball aside, he leans his body against the door and turns the latch to open it, he falls to the ground as a result of using this impractical method while so exhausted.

The party is a ghost town, monkeys are cleaning up while a handful of guests remain, his tired eyes scan the room, looking for that person.

There she was, it was real, he wasn't dreaming, he wasn't hallucinating, it was really her, not in an old photo on the dining table or the fridge, not in the wedding recording his father watched every night on their anniversary.

She was there.

"Mom..."

He placed his hands on the floor to get up, his exhaustion had consumed his body, but he felt motivation feeding him, adrenaline was giving him one last push.

"Mom..."

He took one step, then another, then it turned into a trot.

"Mom!"

Sweat flies from his face, but his tears begin to fall down his cheeks.

"Mom!"

He runs, stumbles, and slides across the floor like a slug because of how wet it was. But he planted one hand, then a knee, and got up, ignoring the blood coming from his nose.

"Mom...mom it's me, Donatello!" He took a couple more steps "It's me... I'm your son" Tears streamed down his face as he made an effort to sound coherent "Mom..."
Otaku con ensoñacion excesiva Danburite-a8c49b No.5761 es
6bfd0484817fa4224712f4202c8371c3874be35aa20f4900484f38a83336ca45.jpg
160 KB 947×1128
>>5753
>Irene

"Anyone can grab a weapon, if something gets close to them, you hit it, that's how everyone starts"

She gives Francine the orb to negotiate.

"What you heard" She argues no more, it was time for action.

The gray sky and white snowfall contrast with her dark hair, she brandishes her weapon whose shine reflects in the snow. She looks at the clown, who exhibits surprising pelvic movements, she was ready to cut him to pieces, axe against Machete, she was ready to advance and--
https://youtu.be/kQKrmDLvijo
"Oh..."

It was to be expected, a dose of lead was faster than a death duel with knives. The body falls cold to the ground like the snow surrounding it.

"...Why do I feel like it can't be that simple?"

She turns her head and sees the black woman and the mare shouting instructions, as they turn around they see the clown reviving by satanic means.

If we kill him, do we get the equivalent in experience x9? kek

Francine looked like an expert on the subject and communicates the data to them through her avid observation, Irene is just as confused as the men.

"WHAT?!" She emphasizes her confusion "You don't happen to know an exorcism to get rid of him, do you?" It would be too easy, she supposes not. "9 Lives, he has 8 left" Meaning they had to split the other 8 kills among three, it was possible.

Irene lunges at him and machetes him in the back, slash after slash opens wounds on him, but the clown is still alive, and blood splashes in her mouth.

"Yuck!" She pulls back a little, giving Hank and Leon space to shoot "I need to get close if I want to dis-arm him" She replies to the Frenchman.

She waits for the shots to stop for a second before lunging again, brandishing the Machete with all her might to cut off the bastard Art's arm and make it difficult or impossible for him to use his axe.

-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete + 1d50 = 47
-Agility: 10 + 1d50 = 27
-Stamina: 10
Rolero Powellite-32dabb No.5762 es
d71da2ced2a6a40a517c54ca4e91f387772df6986a5f0084bd4a2f583422ad23.webp
77 KB 800×343
72a344f1f8d1f4fc0f62e1ec74dd9754c1a73048a88f87dcaf325d6a3a3524fb.webp
133 KB 921×900
075ed1c3169e100e58c2d017fa5711e12767854f7281d06fd893c10f3e922dbc.webp
134 KB 1200×900
943ef4473086e8c22830b184a1274ee388dc746e3eb2f55c377074dec0724edf.webp
30 KB 360×344
>>5745
<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, Hour 10)
HP: 30/80
Energy: 46/100
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 19/21
-Strength: 8 +
-Agility: 10 - 5 Stellar Orange Coat
-Endurance: 10 + 5 Stellar Orange Coat
-Luck: 0
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Junk
Junk
Junk
Crowbar
-Small Quiver 12/12
x12 Typical Arrow
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
Old Tom places you on the ground and with his sausage fingers removes a piece of skull that got tangled in your hair.

Tom: Yes, that's my name. I've never seen you in my restaurant, how do you know who I am?

You are wary, you fear being tricked. Tom asks you to follow him and you hesitate, in that moment of indecision something large crashes and shakes your back. Looking up, you find a second colossal chef leaning over you with his face of wrinkled folds.

Tom: The brothers will carry your things.

Tom says as he pulls a butcher knife from his belt and cuts his way through the wheat. The chef grabs Flametower's head with his chubby hand and lifts it off the ground effortlessly.

Still very sore, and without many options, you follow Tom and in two minutes you find yourself reunited with the group of patrolmen from before, all dead with arrows stuck in their chests and heads.

Tom: Bill's men.

He says without sounding impressed, pulls a Cuban cigar from his pocket, lights it with a lighter, and takes several puffs.

Tom: You surely don't know him personally, and it's better that way. He was the sheriff of the trading town but ended up exiled for corruption. Now he's back, I imagine after hearing about the death of the last sheriff. Bill is a dangerous opportunist.

You continue marching through the field, you struggle to keep up with Tom's pace due to the burning in your little legs. You reach the flattened frames of a circle of wheat and wait a couple of minutes during which Tom asks if you are hungry or thirsty. A group of hooded figures appears, they move silently through the stalks, like ghosts. One pulls back his hood, revealing the graceful angles that chisel his face, plus a pair of long ears that end in points. The woman looks like an elf. Tom speaks.

Tom: We will continue to the town and liberate it. Once order is reestablished, we will discuss how to withstand the worm's attack.
The stranger nods. Tom gestures towards you with his hand and asks if they can take you to a safe place while the offensive ends. The stranger gives you an expressionless look, extends a hand to one of her companions who passes her a miniature bow and quiver. She hands the tools to Tom, and Tom passes them to you; you don't quite know how to hold it, but you manage.

-Small Bow
Function: Shoots arrows (For every 5 agility you gain an extra attack. Requirement +20 total agility to hit. If you roll +40, the total damage is doubled)
Description: Practical, made of light wood, designed for hunting but also for defense in extreme cases.

-Typical Arrow
Function: Basic ammunition for bows. If it hits and is pulled out, it can cause bleeding.
Description: Wooden projectile with a steel tip and feathers at the end.

??? (Archer): Tomorrow for everyone is a hope, not a promise. What we give him is what the false sprout needs.

The archers retreat into the wheat and head towards the village, leaving you alone. Tom covers your small shoulder with his hand.

Tom: So... False sprout, huh?

You lift your face towards Tom, snow falling on your face. It seems they've caught you.

Tom: They say the eyes of archers are special, that they can pierce the essence of things and even shoot their arrows through time. My case is more humble...

He points a finger at his bad eye.

Tom: I have this thing so battered by anomalies that when something doesn't add up, it immediately jumps out at me, and you're carrying something strange, like you were touched by something that usually wears its fingers backward.

He releases your shoulder, looks at the cloudy sky.

Tom: My leg itches below the knee. It shouldn't be, I lost it years ago. And for some reason I can't fathom, for the first time since I arrived, the ground feels shaky.

You don't understand what he's talking about; you're on firm, extremely cold ground. Tom looks at you and adds that you shouldn't worry, that it's normal for an old man to ramble.

Tom: I can leave you here with a chef to look after you until it's all over, or you can come with me to the village and fight. Neither option is safe, but it's all there is.
Marie/Ashley/Catherine Scapolite-78c6ac No.5763 es
a20b4704b051a9baf6568dcb90a40ab522d28dee42cdf5f5286f4f741ada99e0.jpg
1.14 MB 4096×4096
I don't know if it's right to meta when you want to save posts, but since this might be the last Christmas we spend together in this little roleplay, I'm taking the risk. And anyway, if it bothers you, I'll just delete the post.

So that's it. We're on the verge of another year ending in this little roleplay! And as my favorite holiday, I couldn't pass up the chance to wish you a Merry Christmas, little OP. My best wishes for you! I love you very much. And the same to all the other players who have participated, and continue to be here despite the time! Merry Christmas everyone!

I figured it would be nice to commission something with everyone in it. Sadly, the artist's limit was 5 characters so I had to choose. I would have loved to add everyone, and I would have paid for it without hesitation. But oh well... something is better than nothing. Keksito covered Marcos with the little tree. Poor thing, I didn't ask for that kek

I'm taking this opportunity to leave the archive of the last thread. I was waiting to see if little OP would reply to that meta before doing so, but I don't think so
https://archive.is/dneYB
I don't know if I archived it kek maybe not. Thanks to whoever archived this if it was someone else.

A-and that's all. I hope I'm not bothering you.

And if I am bothering you eh... I'll gift you a cunnyge on Steam keksito

>Aldo
I'll try to respond to the Cat thing tomorrow. We're already in a festive mood here wiii
Aldo GET
Rolero Powellite-32dabb No.5764 es
19dcf2d489bcf95567f19cef3939c397d0da4ffd74675bd43a325aff89c18842.png
597 KB 750×500
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL THE WANDERERS!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=reCo_zcWF4Q
Today I'll see if I have a chance to answer one or two turns. I intended to do it yesterday, but it was time to share and make hallacas (They turned out delicious). I hope you enjoyed this time of tradition and rest, whether with friends, family, or yourselves doing what you like. I also noticed that I got very nostalgic longing for people who are no longer here, I didn't realize it could be the burden of the festivities until now that I'm writing this.

>>5763
We have to leave the posts that are important, and these messages are important. Chill, and Merry Christmas to you too!

>it could be the last Christmas we spend together in this little role
Yep. We're moving at a good pace. Olivia's ending will appear soon (you probably don't know her, she participated very little) and possibly Maverick's, but it will be more complicated with him. I also realized something, in the OVA of A Different Future kek Martin meets a character who is affected by a terrible insomnia disease, this was Malory. But then I remembered that there was another NPC who had the habit of sleeping and would have fit better... Missed opportunity.

>commission
It turned out beautiful. Everyone seems to be Marie's age... Except Eiko, but that's because she was born old and bitter and with an office worker's job, kek. That would be the table of the popular kids (Marcos is there for inclusion requirements and so it wouldn't look like the Ku Klux Klan). At another table, the rest are probably there, with a sea elephant (Martin) taking up half the screen.

>that meta
W-What meta? I think I answered everything... D-Didn't I? Were they very important questions?

>999
Checked.
Rolero Powellite-32dabb No.5765 es
c673adce6571e14476bfc81d7129a039fb2d82e4af9e23d481e57d7c38bac643.png
505 KB 1132×999
954302b60a8be667c11901ebff40d116d97ac88a0cce68fb8db3d34d662e63ca.jpg
32 KB 612×408
b611075ab871ce580cd2feb463c93acb4329644a5068b46fee37b67a7577de39.jpg
274 KB 850×1203
3ab17aefd614fddc9308423025337a4d68245440d00f4b98355847b8116cf2c2.jpg
139 KB 873×1000
>>5747
<Rando Roadagain (Day 26, Hour 6)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 50/50
Hunger: 0/20 - Thirst: 0/20
-Strength: 7 + 16 Ghasto (+1 extra attack. Fatness, 6 days remaining)
-Agility: 6 + 15 Ghasto
-Endurance: 6
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8

Level 10
Ghasto opens wide and sucks with all his might. Meters and meters of foul-smelling guts enter and compress into the animal's mouth (+10), the process lasts about five minutes without interruption. Rando has to keep his distance to avoid the wrinkled folds of the intestines splashing and soiling him. With a long burp, the job is done. Ghasto prepares to go for the two remaining delicacies, but then he discovers...

That he can't move!

Now the cat is a ball from which a thick tail, four paws, and a small head protrude. By pushing with his tail, he is able to roll and move, but he is too fat and large to do so comfortably or even use stairs. He will need at least 7 days to resolve his digestion and return to a manageable size. Rando has to push Ghasto against the wall to reach the dining room. Facing the counter and the cupboards, he uses the available can opener to open a can of tuna and prepares himself some sandwiches. The fish oil soaks the bread and whets the appetite of any hungry man.

Cupboards:
x2 Bottle of almond oil
x3 Fish crackers
x4 Pack of Bimbo Bread, 1 Pack of Bimbo Bread (Three-quarters)
x9 Canned tuna
x5 Jar of moth jelly
x1 Set of kitchen utensils
x1 Set of kitchen pans

He takes a seat at the table and begins to eat with Ghasto's grumbling in the background. He feels his eyelids heavy as iron curtains, he has to fight to avoid falling asleep in the chair. He chews the bread, licks the fish oil from his lips. He glances at the empty can, it's the Innsmouth brand and has a cartoon humanoid fish as its mascot. It tastes good. After feeling full, Rando stands up to go to the bedroom. He has to pass near the door to the basement, he has nothing to lose by taking a look. The stench persists, the end of the stairs is a dark mouth (In reality, almost the entire house is, since they haven't turned on the electricity), and there are pale silhouettes writhing like a nest of snakes. Ghasto, who surely has better eyesight, identifies that it's not a hundred snakes, but only one.

Whatever it is, the thing doesn't seem willing to leave the basement. The masked man climbs the stairs and reaches the parents' bedroom. He lies down on the mattress and stretches his arm to wrap around the lump on the other side. He pulls it closer, buries his face in its rustic folds, breathes deeply, absorbing the aroma until his thoughts drift away and he falls asleep, practically drugged by that essence that reminds him of a day in the countryside.

Sunbeams enter through the window and caress him, it's still snowing. Rando feels dazed from having slept for more than a full day. He needed it, his body was on the verge of collapse. He's better, hungry and thirsty, but whole. Although for some reason his face hurts. He opens his eyes expecting to find a purple cow, discovering a taste of dirt on his lips and his arm wrapped around a sack full of stones.
Rando gets out of bed, dizzy after standing up, needing to plant his hand on the wall to wait for the world to stabilize. He goes downstairs towards the bathroom, a song crackling through static from the kitchen https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xLXrJzq_5yk
The man passes the bathroom and looks in the mirror, discovering his chest and face covered in bruises, thanks to using a pile of stones as a pillow. He takes care of his morning business and heads out, passing Ghasto (still in fat mode), and reaches the dining room where he has a direct view of the kitchen. Marietta is with her back to him and facing the counter, shaking her butt in time to the music on the portable radio. Von Karma is holding a knife, her white apron is stained with blood... No, wait. The stains are more fuchsia than red. Looking at the dining room table, Rando discovers the origin: there are two empty, overturned jars of jam and several towers of filled bread.

Cupboards:
x2 Almond oil bottle
x3 Fish crackers
x3 Loaf of bread package
x9 Canned tuna
x3 Jar of moth jelly
x1 Kitchen utensil set
x1 Kitchen pan set

Von Karma turns around with a plate in her hands full of jam sandwiches. Seeing Rando, she gives him a small smile.

Marietta: Good morning. You slept like a log... How did you manage it? In that big, empty bed. I couldn't last five minutes, and after tossing and turning, I decided to move to the other room. There was a sack full of stones on the bed I wanted, so I removed them and put them where they wouldn't be in the way.

She places the plate on the table and sits down. She grabs the first square of sweetness and takes a bite. She chews and swallows before speaking.

Marietta: There's a worm in the basement, someone should do something. If we're going to be stuck here for a while, it would be nice to have electricity.

Rando suspects she's talking about him. Marietta goes for the second sandwich.

Marietta: The water tastes a bit strange. It's probably because of those skeletons in the well. I counted about 7 when I peeked in.

Again, Rando feels implicated. Marietta starts on the third.

Marietta: The soil here is very fertile, I know because I tasted a handful when I went for a walk this morning. Too bad all this accumulating snow is a problem, at this rate we'll end up buried.

The to-do list grows.

Marietta: I knitted something for you... It's a gift, but also something you need. It's behind you, on the back of the chair.

You were very comfortable, and when you grab the sweater, you understand why. It's soft and warm, also purple, with a strong lavender scent. With clothes like these, the cold won't be a problem.

Marietta: I knitted it with my hair.

She clarifies. The detail is strange; her lush hair is still the same length as yesterday. Von Karma finishes her 20th sandwich before saying she's satisfied. She picks up the plates to wash them. Once the entire sink is clean, she removes her apron and uses a hand brush to scrub it in the sink on the counter.

Marietta: Do you have dirty clothes?

She asks you. After finishing, and since she doesn't have a clear place to dry the garment, she climbs onto a stool and hangs it on top of the cupboards.

1/2
Rolero Powellite-32dabb No.5766 es
37ed37212a968af1c47a269a573a93489dfce3b2ddcfcee06381b8ec594b3b8d.webp
13 KB 800×534
9ca0113dacfa3949606345ab7c709b2d2ef25f4f1b35cf9283a72802ddca75c5.webp
36 KB 500×500
b126001ab5504a8d2b070c451a0fcf837a58ba041df6ffdbd537918bf5d59b7a.jpg
74 KB 686×386
4c6c36da88906148db8515ecd7c55b8e227315f9632b2d524bffe683684bceb6.jpg
92 KB 750×1000
>>5747
<Rando Roadagain (Day 26, Hour 12)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 44/50
Hunger: 16/20 - Thirst: 16/20
-Strength: 7 + 16 Ghasto (+1 extra attack. Fatness, 6 days remaining)
-Agility: 6 + 15 Ghasto
-Endurance: 6
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8
-Trainings
Strength: 7 (1/10) - Agility: 6 (1/10) - Endurance: 6 (1/10)

Level 10
After Rando removes the stones from the bed and moves them to a corner, his muscles burn from the effort. He immediately realizes that if he takes a moment, he can use the sack as a weight to train. It's not uniform, but it's better than nothing (Strength training unlocked)

Ghasto vomits a shovel, a gift from the guts he devoured yesterday. Rando grabs the tool, lubricated by gastric fluids, and plants himself at the entrance of the house. Quickly, because the snowfall never stops, he shovels the snow away from the path and the field enclosed by the fence. When the ground is clear, the masked man uses the shovel as a staff and bends over, panting, bathed in sweat (Agility training unlocked)

The masked man stands under the shower and closes the half wooden door that divides the shower area from the toilet area. He observes the handles that turn on the water; there's a metal rectangle above, which he assumes is the heater. He presses the only button in sight, but the heater remains off. Without electricity, there's no choice but to turn on the water at room temperature. He moves the handle, the showerhead shakes as a warning before expelling the liquid. Rando's body instantly stiffens as the cold water jolts his nerves as if it were burning him; he must use all his strength not to flee the shower with a jump (Endurance training unlocked).

You use one of the available towels in the bathroom to dry yourself.
When the sky's brightness is at its peak, it's assumed to be noon, the time of day Marietta serves lunch. She places the tray, occupied by steaming meat, in the center of the table. Despite its size, the gluff thigh is surprisingly light and the meat as soft as a cloud. Von Karma uses a knife and fork to cut a large piece and serves it onto the plate in front of Rando. The piece drips, Rando uses his cutlery to slice off a piece and bring it to his mouth. Pressing the meat with his teeth, his mouth floods with succulent warm fat.

Refrigerator:
x3 Almond water bottle
x5 Almond milk bottle
x1 Gluff leg
x7 Gluff steaks
x2 Neapolitan ice cream

Cupboards:
x1 Almond oil bottle, 1 Almond oil bottle (Three-quarters)
x3 Fish crackers
x3 Bimbo bread pack
x9 Canned tuna
x3 Moth jelly jar
x1 Kitchen utensil set
x1 Kitchen pan set

The good taste almost makes him forget that Von Karma is finishing the supplies as if they were infinite. Marietta serves herself several slices of the thigh and eats, her attention focused on the plate.

Marietta: You know? I was wondering... Why is the refrigerator on while the water heater isn't? That idea kept going around in my head. I decided to look behind the fridge. There's... There's a compartment with very bright batteries inside, I think they're lava batteries.

The table is always a good place for casual conversation. Marietta sips her glass of almond water.

Marietta: Have you checked your room yet? I found that radio in mine.

She tilts her face towards Ghasto.

Marietta: I tried to walk it but it doesn't fit through the door...

She returns her attention to the plate. She cuts another slice of the thigh, revealing the translucent bone beneath the meat. After lunch, Marietta would wash the dishes before going up to her bedroom and coming back down, carrying a 1000-piece puzzle that she begins to assemble calmly at the table.

She's killing time, and Rando should also find an activity to relax his mind and avoid madness. He already trained in the morning, he can't do it again. The rest of the day would be a good time to solve the house's problems.

2/2
Rolero Powellite-32dabb No.5767 es
e7cb05d44c1d2d84bc5389ecdec79022cbf53e3e74601f729018f156e524b54b.jpg
153 KB 736×1308
f551e61fc0daf77fd55438921a5c1105013cda5a9d517c315bb6e65e859786b8.webp
138 KB 1080×1440
>>5754
Okay, I'll buy it. But only because we're in the endgame! I could have pulled out of my ass that Martin brought something else from the future besides Brayan, and that's part of his old man weakness. Also, it's not enough water.

<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, Hour 9)
HP: 77/100
Energy: 48/50
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 18/20
-Strength: 14x2
-Agility: 13x2
-Endurance: 14x2 + 10 Reinforced Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 2/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Magnum Revolver (2/6. Damage x3, Priority +2)
Abilities:
Werewolf (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.

Level 11
Skulls are hard. You apply all your weight and that's when they crack, and pieces fly out, sliding in different directions along the ceiling. But that's not enough, the decapitated body raises its hands and clings to your obese leg, scratching futilely at the hazmat but managing to numb your muscles with the cold. In a panic, you shove it with your belly, sending it over the railing, off the roof, and into the streets.

Olaf lets out a war cry from between the buildings and waves his fat arm. One, two, three, four walkers hit the rooftop. Two of them impact the railing, one slips and disappears, but the other manages to climb over and get through. You back away with your small knife raised, barely visible in your thick, gloved hand. Everywhere you look, icy blue eyes are approaching. You turn your face to Polar, and it occurs to you that desperation is making you see double...

-Shadow Clone Jutsu Technique: Separates your shadow and attacks with it. For 2 turns, it deals half your total damage to the enemy and reduces half the damage you receive.

Polar moves, and his shadow moves in the opposite direction. The metal pole whistles, its tip striking frozen heads and torsos, breaking the ice and tearing them apart, sometimes with enough force to send them against the flaming effigy. On the other hand, the black stain grows, shrinks, or expands, depending on the different light sources that distort it; the shadow uses this to cut when it has sharp shapes or to crush with solid forms. The fire's glow makes it grow so much that it pushes a handful of walkers like a sweeper and throws them over the edge of the roof.

You could say you're winning, but the fact that for every walker you defeat, two appear makes you think otherwise. You fall to the ground when a white-walker lunges at you, the impact is hard, all your folds of fat shift and your brain shuts off for a second. You have the zombie on top of you, it only has half its face, but its fists sinking into your flesh hurt entirely. You bury the knife in its only eye, leaving the corroded blade stuck, but that doesn't stop it. Two more join in, one sinks its teeth into your visor and cracks it as it tries to chew.

Fed up with all of it, you get up with the walkers hanging on. You use your powerful arms to lift them over your head. You bend backward to throw it, but you miscalculate and stumble backward on one leg, threatening to collapse. It's a kick to the back for assistance (and a painful one, a gift from Polar) that straightens you and gives you the momentum to throw the white-walkers off the building.

You look at Junior in the speaker tower and shout your demands to Radiohead. A minute passes as the fight continues, you end up back-to-back with Polar, surrounded by a circle of white zombies.

Polar: Tsk! This isn't working for me anymore.
You look over your shoulder and see what he's referring to. The golf club is twisted like a mix of a branch and an accordion, exceeding the limits of usability. The albino throws the broken club away and puts his hands in his pockets. He's ready for his final battle, but then...

The loudspeakers speak again.

Radiohead: Alright, alright. What a demanding audience. I am a gentleman, I always keep my promises and I am willing to lend a hand to those in need. Whether it's saving them from certain death, or playing a song that will rescue their hearts. With you... Everybody Wants To Rule The World, by Tears For Fears. You can criticize the British for a thousand things, but one of them is not their musical talent.

He plays the song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uJ43Y_thtPI
The radio station shakes, it looks like an expanding earthquake. Junior slides down the structure of the swaying antenna until he's halfway down, where the metal moves less. Polar places a hand on your stomach, as you are the most solid thing he has nearby. Cracks spread across the ground, walkers fall, your fat jiggles like jelly. The cement crumbles, spitting streams of dust and sinking, swallowing a few walkers. But instead of the building collapsing, it rises, and with it new black towers sprout from the subsoil. Also two red arms with black hands, which push aside the surrounding buildings as if they were cardboard, dark palms that then press against the streets.

The sudden ascent pushes you against the cracked ground. When the pressure eases, you can blink and take a moment to recover from the dizziness. Free from disorientation, you plant your hands, the cement is now like pebbles of sand and slips through your fingers revealing a smooth red layer underneath, like hardened leather or taut rubber. Polar and you stand up with the caution of those who don't want to be swept away by the wind, they look around, finding themselves closer to the sky, and over the shoulder of a colossal titan. The light from the giant's loudspeakers blinds them, they need time to adjust to the glare. Junior arrives with you, jumping for joy which stops when a roar of displeasure reaches them from the buildings.

Olaf approaches menacingly, and not only that... Polar elbows you in the side and gestures with his face downwards. The ice walkers are climbing Radiohead. They are far away, they can attack them from a distance.

Radiohead: Alright, gentlemen. I'm here. Who needs me to attack? The fat one or the little ones?

To prevent their eardrums from bursting, Radiohead speaks to them through a single speaker, the lower one located on the tower of his right shoulder. You know which one it is because the mesh covering it vibrates.

--Radiohead
HP: 750/750
-Strength: 40 + 1d100 = 54
-Agility: 40 + 1d100 = 36
-Stamina: 20
Traits:
???
???

--Polar
HP: 125/140
-Strength: 13 + 10 Golf club + 1d50 = 45
-Agility: 14 + 1d50 = 44
-Stamina: 12
Equipment:
???
Techniques:
-Shadow Clone Jutsu: Separates your shadow and attacks with it. For 2 turns, it applies half of your total damage to the enemy again, and reduces half of the damage received.
???
???

-----------------------

--Olaf
HP: 500/500
-Strength: 30 + 1d100 = 79 + 30 Sacrificed White Walkers
-Agility: 10 + 1d100 = 73
-Stamina: 60
Traits:
-Sacrifices White Walkers to increase his attack (Maximum 100)

--White Walker Army
HP: 99837/100000
-Strength: 1d100 = 19
Traits:
-Damage is directed at all characters within range.
-Every time they defeat a character, they recover 100 HP.
Catherine/Ashley Scapolite-78c6ac No.5768 es
a06cf7a95b1f14d67c011e249962895efc1eff07ee339a913b7b486ab19d3e7a.jpg
142 KB 485×677
26d74b4c430547d2bdc8dd00ff20a1c6bfe0a5f5c9f25f406810819412e3641a.gif
1.91 MB 298×280
>>5755
>Ashley (from the futuuu- but you get the idea) kek
Love and stealth. The two parts of her life, which could well be described as her before and after, mix and today secret love is born. Hilda doesn't want them to know, and neither does Cat, so at the slightest danger of being discovered, she pulls away as if the girl she was leaning on were an electric fence. Then trying to appear normal. That is, to maintain her typical impassivity.

But something strange happens, a hand, which she recognizes by touch so well that it doesn't startle her and upon looking only confirms the obvious, falls on her shoulder. Catherine can't help but be curious, and that little face with its open mouth like her little eyes turns to Hilda's face when she brings it closer until contact is re-established.

(...?)

She sees her, she doesn't understand. She wants to lean on her again, but she's not entirely sure if it's a good idea, and maybe it isn't, because then she gets a sphere in a cone, which could well fall and get ruined... that doesn't diminish her curiosity.

(Doesn't it bother her...?)

The time she spends contemplating the dessert, she also spends asking herself questions like these. It's not until she sees Hilda eating that she decides to put that aside for the moment, and demonstrate that learning by imitation works by trying her little ice cream.

(Flavor.)

She classifies it as such. She's not familiar with this, but she doubts it's more food than flavor. Then, she's invited to try the vanilla one.

Ashley does. As stealthy as ever, she takes a long, daring lick, in which as if she had eaten ice cream her whole life she masterfully moves her tongue over every area until she reaches the sweet crown, where she finds the queen. Or her tongue.

It's ephemeral. But it's a powerful sensation. As if despite having a thousand other things to do, the most important thing for her brain were to feel the other. Their tongues touch, like a kiss, and their owners pull them back with a jerk as if on a leash.

Face to face they are. She doesn't quite understand why, but now her chest was beating with an intensity that even she couldn't hide. Her face was bathed in passion, just like Hilda's. And Catherine confirmed right there that she wasn't lying when she said she liked looking at her. Her skin tinted with blush was charming, her chubby cheeks fascinate her and make her want to touch them, her small lips are tender and soft, made for her, her small, upturned nose seems adorable, and those eyes... She could get lost in them. That's exactly what she's doing now.

These are things Catherine has thought over and over again. She has analyzed Hilda's little face meticulously. She likes being able to imagine it clearly in her mind.

But... Again. She doesn't know why she's feeling the way she's feeling now. Her chest betrays her and makes her stare wide-eyed at the other. Her mouth, her only airway, functions on sighs that are almost gasps. She has an uncontrollable urge to kiss her...

But... maybe she should control it. She's very lost, she needs guidance.

...

<A crazy person

Catherine doesn't have an answer. Well, okay. This turns out to be merely anecdotal. I figured, but I wasn't sure with the whole thing about her being in another storyline now and all kek she's more interested in what was happening before...

Puppy... lick... kissy... Cat has one of her classic intrusive thoughts, the difference is that this time, while Hilda paints her smile with carmine, the cat decides to carry it out. She traps her prey between her claws and gives her two surprise licks.
to

wait

for

a

reaction.

Meanwhile,

in

her

head,

she

feels

like

it

wasn't

a

great

idea.

She's

not

regretful,

it's

more

like

when

you

mess

up

an

insignificant

question

in

a

game

and

think

'oh,

maybe

that

wasn't

the

best

choice'.

Only

Hilda's

reaction

remained

to

be

seen,

which

is...

total

surprise.

(Okay...

yeah,

it

was

a

bad

idea.)

Now

she

was

starting

to

regret

it.

Hilda

throws

her

to

the

floor.

...

Ashley

retreats

into

silence.

She

tries

to

look

as

neutral

as

always...

but

when

she

sees

her

reflection...

it

gives

her

a

smile

she

can't

control.

Let's

say

she

did

manage

to

satisfy

her

uncontrollable

desire.

Once

the

witnesses

left,

Cat

would

cling

to

Hilda

again,

resting

her

head

on

her

shoulder.

"-"

(...better

later.)

She

wanted

to

ask

if

this

was

okay.

But...

later

would

do.

...

>Ashley

(from

the

past)

So

that's

what

it

was.

Love...

it's

real.

She

can

feel

it...

but

no

one

must

know.

Catherine

gets

kicked

out

of

the

farm

for

messing

with

the

leader's

favorite

daughter**

kek

>>5759
>Marie
The

heat

between

her

legs

overwhelms

and

enchants

her.

The

feeling

of

her

nose

against

the

thin

fabric

fills

her

with

excitement

and

nerves

at

the

same

time.

She

wants

this

with

her

whole

being—

shouldn't

she

feel

ashamed?

She

wonders,

and

yet

can't

stop

inhaling

through

her

nose

pressed

directly

against

her

underwear,

desperate

to

fill

herself

with

her

partner's

essence.

(Aaaaaaa

I

hate

myself.

I'm

disgusting.)-Marie

has

a

problem-

She

knows,

but

can't

help

it.

Her

nipples

pierce

through

her

t-shirt,

and

with

a

moan

she

releases

the

scent

of

femininity

she

indulged

in,

she

looks

up,

biting

her

lips,

almost

as

if

begging

for

permission

with

her

half-closed

eyes—

more

pleading

than

arousal,

though

arousal

isn't

missing.

<You

have

to

talk

to

her.

Just

be

yourself—

not

exactly

the

advice

a

good

class

mediator

would

give.

And

try

to

stutter

less,

she'll

appreciate

it.

"S-sure,

sweetheart...

You're

right..."

She'd

become

compliant,

that's

what

she

was

supposed

to

be.

Yet,

she

surprises

herself

by

daring

more.

Her

lips

kiss

the

underwear,

cling

to

it—

first

with

lips

alone,

then

with

teeth,

slowly

tugging

the

fabric

down

carefully.

Unwrapping

the

gift

was

almost

as

exciting

as

having

it

before

her.

With

the

same

care,

casting

a

quick

glance

at

her

girl's

face

to

see

those

expressions

she'd

come

to

crave,

she

finally

returns

her

face

where

she

wants

it.

Diving

into

her

secret

garden,

where

she

can

taste

the

sweetest

flower.

"Ahh...

I

love

you...

I

adore

you..."-she

murmurs-

<And

I

told

you—

not

something

a

good

girlfriend

would

say

to

her

girl.

Marie

shrinks

in

place.

She

looks

up

with

a

sad

puppy

face.

"P-pardon..."

She

pouts

her

lips

like

a

duck.

Trying

to

look

pitiful,

again—

in

this

pose

she'd

be

extra

compliant.

But

it

earns

her

a

reward.

After

her

glasses

are

removed,

in

her

blindness,

she's

guided

to

a

seat

for

something

that

almost

makes

her

heart

leap

out

of

her

chest

and

makes

butterflies

swell

in

her

stomach.

Nervous,

she

faces

the

ceiling,

and

in

anticipation,

almost

desperately

asks

for

guidance.

<Just

be

yourself.

"¿E-eh?"

Light

sits

down.

https://youtu.be/-ZGlaAxB7nI?si=VQtAaq7f_B_hrKKT
Kek

**Basadarie

fulfilled

her

dream**

**I

was

going

to

describe

the

last

part

but

opted

for

the

meme

because

Marie,

but

let's

just

say

she

enjoyed

it

a

lot

and

gave

her

best

kek**
Catherine/Ashley Scapolite-78c6ac No.5769 es
328cc475452f848ea839c1b5bf4bccdc6267c23eba04109142624b170d705d53.jpg
38 KB 447×447
7117a31aa64e3df8ec5e994429e7d9964362d8e774c7d8c23ee11cac383ef00d.jpg
17 KB 500×300
>>5759
>Ashley
She meets her reflection. The other her has lived the same thing, for her blood tribute she earned a band-aid. She doesn't like wounds, but it gives her a particular charm. However, she doesn't think that, only about the discomfort. And about how disadvantageous it is to make noise when breathing for someone as stealthy as her.

(...hm...)

It would be terrible to have to hide and be heard breathing through her mouth...

(if only...)

Think...

(Turtles...)

She gets an idea.

(Breathe through their anuses...) -she uses direct terms, those her father uses-

Catherine has an idea. She closes her eyes to attempt her most surreal mimicry yet.

(If I were a turtle... I could breathe through my anus and no longer worry about making noise...)

(I'm not a turtle... but I can try...)

She closes her little mouth and tries to make movements with her butt, tenses her little buttocks, squeezes her rosebud, wiggles her tail a bit... nothing. It doesn't work, she has to open her mouth shortly after and gulp a lot of air. Then she gasps, she held her breath for a while.

(It's impossible...)

Obviously. She can see herself again, now with some sadness... It's impossible to forget how she got here. Her mind takes a quick trip to the situation she got herself into, to how she could have lost her life. The fear she felt...

At least she could tell her. Make it clear to her, after the terror, how much she wanted to be with her. For Catherine, it was closure, the end of an era. The decision she had been avoiding for so long, finally made. Definitely.

(...)

At the moment it almost didn't feel like it. Although it was her ultimatum, it would be a while later, sheltered in her arms, that things would end better.

Clinging to her, she allowed herself to cry, and to be vulnerable as never before. She allowed herself to sob, and whisper fearfully.

"I don't want to die... I don't want to leave..."

And that voice she adores, in a tone as sweet as she rarely hears, lulled her, and left Catherine vulnerable in another way. With her chest full of love, and tears welling up now because of it.

"I love you... Eladia... I love you..."

And she said, and repeated... And she wanted her to know it very clearly. That there be no more doubt about it, and so she repeated it a couple of times, until drowsiness dazed her.

"I... Love... You... Un... Til... Ze... Sky... And... Mo... Re..." -between sleep, she speaks as if her mouth were full of air-

And eventually, her eyelids fell. And her mind went elsewhere, with a last -and painful- sniff from her nose, it is confirmed. She fell asleep.
In the present, she feels like crying again remembering that. It made her so happy... but this time she can hold it back. She will treasure that memory for a long time. The only bad thing is that she couldn't smell Hilda's scent, which she likes so much, because of this stupid bandage. Catherine hates the bandage, although again, it gives her a unique touch.

< Psst! Catherine, over here.

"?"

She turns around, Hilda is calling her. She wants to be with her, so she accompanies her, even though her sense of smell, -a well-developed sense and very important to her as a forest child- was nullified, the rest of her functioned perfectly. She could move with her usual agility... but in this environment, it wasn't necessary.

And in fact, she seems somewhat hindered, her walk is normal, a bit uncertain. She avoids casting uncomfortable glances at a couple of furniture pieces and a dangerous, wobbly shadow. She reaches Hilda looking in other directions with a face of some confusion, and when she sees her, Hilda makes her look away. With continued confusion, eyebrow raised and all, Catherine follows what she's pointed to. And she finds...

(Little monkey.)

That wasn't its name. But it's the first thing she thinks. Catherine loses her confusion and looks intrigued, her eyes slightly wider, but the rest of her face neutral as usual. She betrays her interest when her gigantic iris scans the little monkey with her gaze, finding a name tag and everything. Then she looks back at its face, finding it already leaning over her. Catherine doesn't make the slightest movement, everything normal.

< This lady made me understand that you are acquainted with the sasquatch(...)

"?"

She looks at Hilda, who smiles broadly, and that conveys enough to refresh her memory.

"Oh..." Catherine lets out, without changing her expression at all.

So that was why... Catherine knew she had to clarify it at the time, and in the following moments, but she didn't have the opportunity. The Oregonian approaches her and puts her two hands next to her mouth, with the edge of both hands surrounding her ear to whisper.

"Washawashawasha."

That's what poor Sebasquatch would hear. Hilda, on the other hand, would hear:

"Bigfoot is the nickname of a forest vagabond. Because he's wild and has very big feet. He's not the real Bigfoot..."

If anyone thinks Catherine is wild, it's because they don't know her. She's like an animal, the successor to the wild boy of Aveyron, but without anyone bothering to reintegrate her into society. After that, she separates from Hilda and confronts the real Bigfoot... she looks at him expressionlessly... who knows what thoughts are going through Catherine's mind...

(Little monkey...)

The same as before.

"...I like you."

She extends her slender doll-like arm and pats him on the head twice. He won't be a pet, but he's a little animal, and animals like that... right?

2/3 miscalculation kek
Catherine/Ashley Scapolite-78c6ac No.5770 es
f1074411d8f6c080f3bcd6c290bf1d328709278714eace2eb12c47402189d404.jpg
49 KB 238×252
e3c245ffa205edeafdb6812312fc91e019c9603a7e2e249298520c129ee2d960.jpg
428 KB 1152×2048
e57f1845ccf4e24d69820e4b21dca98ace5857df73b6e815d250aab1bfd97e95.jpg
15 KB 597×335
>>5759
>Ashley
Uncomfortable in comfort. Although her little ass was pampered by the plush cushion, the one from the forest can't help but feel out of place. She looks around, at the sign.

"What do the stars mean?" she asks Hilda, still maintaining her expressionless facade, as they are not alone.

Large windows, tablecloths, ceiling, floor, and the pianola's song. Everything is so far from what she knows that it almost disorients her. She ends up interested in a simple salt shaker, holding it in her hand and looking at it up close as if scrutinizing it. She looks at it from every possible angle, moving both her hand and her head for this exhaustive inspection.

(I like it...)

She is considering... borrowing it at least. It looks very nice... perhaps she would have put it in her bag if not for the voices behind her.

<And that rabble? Heavens, now they let anyone in. They must be someone's pet, my uncle has one like it. He uses it to practice with his shotgun.

Catherine goes from being hunched over looking at the salt to straightening up when she hears them, her eyes widening in surprise. Her first reaction is to look at Hilda with her mouth open in distress to share reactions, but she didn't seem to be listening. What ends up simply puzzling Catherine, who lately decides to face the situation by looking with her big eyes in the direction of the noise. Not in a threatening way, or with a particular expression, just her big eyes and a neutral face that in any case she decides to hide everything under her nose with the chair.

<Ouch! She's looking at us.

(Princesses...?)

Fairy tale stuff. Catherine is clear that she is not one, and has expressed not wanting to be one. But for Hilda, she is. However, it is evident that when comparing one to the other, perhaps the one from the forest comes up short. They dress more beautifully, and take care of every inch of their skin, and of every strand of hair. The masterfully shaped eyebrows compared to Catherine's, so thick, are conclusive proof.

<Did you see her eyes? They look like an owl's.

(...they're more like a cat's.)

That's what she thinks. And it's her weak defense. Catherine liked her eyes. Aren't they cute? She would argue that Hilda's are more precious, but never, until now, would she have been insecure that the emeralds with which she perceives the world were ugly.
<Such pretty hair is wasted on such an ugly girl. Canon?

(...)

She lowers her gaze a little, her eyes dart to the side, and she covers it by turning around completely to sit down, but her head remains tilted for a moment.

(Am I ugly?)

Is she? She tries to deny it, she does it with all her being by shaking her head. Hilda told her she's pretty. She wouldn't lie.

(I'm better than them...)

Yes... they wouldn't know how to make a fire, or tend a garden, they don't know how to climb and they don't know how to sing or imitate a pretty bird. They don't know. She does, and she knows many words, although she doesn't use them, so maybe she'd beat them in a crossword too...

(I'm not a princess...)

She tells herself, but now, even if she doesn't want to, she finds it hard to imagine what she'd look like in one of those dresses. If Eladia would like her more. She doesn't understand these feelings, it's perhaps the first time she's felt envy or something similar. While she was thinking, they had already brought something, a bowl with water and lemon slices. Catherine, who was sitting neutrally, just watches, moving her eyes.

The bowl, then Hilda, who is eating a lemon. Catherine would have stopped her if she hadn't been taken by surprise. She manages to let out a 'wait' and extend her hand, then she can only make a face of horror as she discovers it wasn't a very good idea.

"..."

She lowers her hand, seeing her tear up worries her. And she shows it with her little face.

"Are you okay?"

Tears are still unknown territory for girls, laughter is not. She loses all worry for a moment and turns to look with a frown.

(What are they laughing at?)

It's serious, Hilda just teared up. She doesn't find it funny at all, but they find it very entertaining. Ashley seems to understand that, because they know more, they prefer to laugh instead of helping or guiding.

Offended, unable to really do anything, at least for now... she turns back to the front. She glances at the princesses before focusing on her own bowls. They were little more than something to wash her hands with, apparently.

Ashley seemed willing to guide this time.

"Hilda..."

She placed a small hand on her shoulder and with the other hand, held the lemon slice she had with two fingers.

"Give me that."
She asked, and took it from her, placing it on the table. Then she stepped back.

"Show me your hands."

She requested, examining them closely to make sure there were no wounds or anything that might cause discomfort once their hands were submerged. Once satisfied, she brought over the blue bowl and began removing the lemon slices from it, tossing them into her own.

"I'm going to do something later..."

After finishing, she placed her bowl in front of Hilda.

"Now, we'll wash our hands with this." —in case you're wondering— "that's what they brought this for." —or at least it seems so; she glances sideways and confirms it's only being used for that— "You first."

And that's it. They'll do things properly; just because this is new doesn't mean that rule should be broken. She washes one hand, then the other. Catherine dries her hands on the tablecloth. She moves her companion's bowl aside and brings her own closer.

"We're going to make lemonade."

Catherine is better than those other girls. She's smarter! They see these bowls and only think of hand-washing; she sees the sum of their parts. She sees how things can come together and work in harmony, how objects can be happy fulfilling new roles. These lemon slices wouldn't be wasted—they'd be happy becoming lemonade. Hilda seems to like the taste of lemon, otherwise why would she have tried eating one directly?

Catherine takes the slices one by one and squeezes them over the unused bowl. Once she's finished extracting the juice, she drops the squeezed peels into the bowl they used for washing hands. Eventually she's done, but before Hilda can try anything, she stops her with an open palm.

"Lemonade needs sugar."

It should be noted she's never actually made lemonade before, but she's always wanted to. Her knowledge of it is limited to asking what lemonade was after seeing it on advertisements, and getting an answer from her dad.

A few little voices make her look back again. The girls from earlier, the naturals, seem to be telling the current monkey attendant what they'd like to eat. Catherine, wanting to do things right, quickly turns to Hilda.

"What do you want to eat?"

Hopefully Hilda had some idea, because in this department, Ashley was woefully inexperienced. Not that she couldn't cook, but the meals she made with Dad were pretty basic—meat, stews, soups...
She has never tried a hamburger, or a pizza. If you asked her, she would only say:

"I want meat... Or fish." -she's not picky, but she prefers meat. It's delicious- "and sugar." -for the lemonade-

3/3

Don't worry about taking your time.

>>5764
I had a good time, it was nice. I hope it was the same for you, despite the moments of nostalgia. Never forget those who are gone, that's fine, but never forget to appreciate those who are still with you. That's what holidays are for.

>Chill
Yeepi

>Olivia's ending will appear soon (you probably don't know her, she participated very little)
Me? Not know him? I think you forget who you're talking to kek
I think I remember all the characters from the roleplay. Tlareg Avir, the kid from the first thread, Mallory, Mary, Random Guy, one whose last name was Trabajo, Olivia is the cripple, King, there was another one with green hair who was schizophrenic, there was the guy with glasses (I think his name was Jorge) and that's it. Those are all the lol-dead, I think. Then there are those of us who are still here.

>possibly Maverick's
Let's hope he comes back.

>I also noticed something, in the OVA of A Different Future
Keksito

>But then I remembered that there was another NPC who had a habit of sleeping and would have fit better
Uh... ok, I don't remember that. From what I lurked, I didn't get to that.

>It turned out beautifully.
Yes, right? Ironically, the artist said he didn't like how it turned out. I thought it was fine, but well, at least he said he'll give me a discount on another purchase because of it. We should take advantage of that. Muahaha.

>that's because she was born old and bitter
But why does he say it so bluntly kek

>That would be the table of the popular guys
<Me and those mentioned in the meta kek

>In another one, the rest are probably there, with a sea elephant (Martin) taking up half the screen.
<The other table: Aurora, Catherine, Donny, Martin, Rando

What a group kek. Doesn't look like there will be much chemistry there. At least Cat and Aurora might get along really well.

>W-What meta? I think I answered everything... D-Didn't I?
Almost, only a question Marcos asked was missing.

>Were they very important questions?
He asked about the level 0 messages, but I imagine it's a spoiler, so you didn't say anything.
Rolero Powellite-32dabb No.5771 es
spoiler
2.09 MB 1280×720 spoiler
6eeb9222b2bd6744974006bcc75d8e3c6c981fc2dbfc3668acfca201fab4a415.png
352 KB 842×850
spoiler
81 KB 400×580 spoiler
5599960f26f73b07a15b6e686499c7b4c778b6057483b233444772e366b2847c.jpg
26 KB 640×360
Since they are shorter and there's a fight in between, I'll advance Donny/Irene's turns and then continue with Marie's.

>>5760
<Donny Darko (Day 37, 12:00)
HP: 108/110
Energy: 37/70
Hunger: 31/31 - Thirst: 40/40
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 5
-Stamina: 7
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 1/4
Emma
Techniques:
-Bat-breaker: For one turn, use 1d100 rolls. Sacrifice the wielded bat.

Level 5
In the race towards destiny, you drop Alondra's nutcracker. It was too heavy and you didn't need it anyway, before your eyes was your happy place, your longed-for person. The one for whom you cried and thought lost, only for the labyrinths to present her before you in the end. Beautiful and almost as pale as you, as if blood drained from her at the sight of you and she was contemplating a ghost.

You run towards her, call her name, stumble but that doesn't stop you until you finally bury your face in the skirt of her dress. You close your eyes and hug her, bathing in her warmth and scent, beneath the perfume you recognize her as if she had never been separated from you.

You clench your teeth, you want to hold back the tears of happiness, but it's impossible. For the first time you feel full, very full, so much so that the metallic aftertaste makes you want to vomit and your stomach hurts.

You open your eyes (And the first spoiler).

From above you observe your mother's waist, and only that. Her legs soon buckle and spill their contents. Without understanding, you open your mouth to exclaim, and a hot red liquid slides into your elongated mouth, followed by the other half of her, and a die...

The ivory piece bounces on the stained floor and rolls until it stops on a roll that doesn't belong to you, showing the number 13. The age you were when your mother disappeared.

You murmur a new Mom, but between your monstrous jaws the syllables turn into a guttural babble. You look around, elevated by elongated and amorphous legs. The people present watch, stunned and frozen in horror. You lower your head and contemplate your new appearance in the growing pool of blood (Second spoiler), you tremble, unable to bear what you see.

Insanity buries your sanity. With a bestial roar, Donny is transformed into an entity of pure darkness. You are not dead, but perhaps you wish you were.

And in a corner a white face floats and laughs without anyone hearing it.

End.
Murcielago Insano Purpurite-a32703 No.5772 es
746ee18af45e3067d7b586f2e75c10b0aae00f7a27e0cc0e9dd8e16e09b7cbfe.png
38 KB 250×250
ea283b92eacf3cceb8a728ae8c932ab6b2336f85c36c227d652db33011acbde3.jpg
107 KB 850×850
2d1023d62853d711aedf2a7427fa9ee98342e64fdc7d6e25fbbc5ea2cf2c0aa9.png
55 KB 500×521
bb609af67d5d64cc2a5fed8a0da1304096e89b1ef98e7f756f9b693c4c4484dc.jpg
77 KB 567×668
>>5771
I had a premonition that something bad would happen...but not this. I don't think I have to answer much, but, how???kek did pure depression turn him into a monster or was I ignorant of an insanity mechanic that was filling up without me realizing it all this time?, what does trolling have to do with this?who was the phone?

Could super almond milk cure him?, although I don't think Donny would want to live again after this... he'd surely do the thing with the prune juice or whatever that old man with the shotgun on Marie's campaign ship was called. I also don't think he'll live long, he's in the middle of a populated level, there must be someone capable of killing him, right?
Irene is going to have a mental breakdown if she finds out
>>5763
Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and happy new year too!, it's very nice indeed. I think I was the one who archived the thread
>>5764
Now I ask what Irene Elite's diary said that the imbecile Donny never read, kek

>Were they very important questions?
Momo 2(Firstborn): Mom, where do babies come from?
Momo: A--
Jennifer: You were born from a peach in the backyard
too much retardation
>>126072
I saved it, kekeo
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5773 es
b29bcabc8e49eb5d90ac26f7302d7070a4ac7691ceef1718e69bd0b3b3f422fa.gif
1.07 MB 480×270
1ec1a64386828f030a2e8b14b35b7dc058ac93ba2403c2d0a89b5603ad61f335.jpg
226 KB 700×1044
575953fc8e689c1037d073cc0508e2b96516f4ee34bbf5b427ba32389c22f003.webp
20 KB 737×486
>>5761
I always wanted to change Francine's avatar to her American Dad namesake (another mature blonde, conceptually the same), but I kept forgetting every chance I got... Until now, kek. Better late than never.

<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 60, 13:00)
HP: 103/150
Energy: 44/80
Hunger: 37/40 - Thirst: 37/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 10
-Stamina: 10
-Luck: 2
Inventory:
-Pockets 0/4
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Mastered Ultra Instinct (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it's used).
Effects:
+15 Bleeding

Level 10
The Lazarus of the profane rises and walks. You, with your face and machete stained, step back and turn to Francine, awaiting the key to a possible exorcism. She shrugs, averts her gaze, and offers an awkward smile.

Francine: We were only taught how to bring them from the lower astral. The manual said nothing about returns, and if it did, I didn't notice... It was a pretty hazy time, got it?

She hurries to say the last part, as if excusing herself for a more scatterbrained era.

Leon's revolver roars three times, the lead opening bloody, smoking holes in the clown's chest. With the last shot, the jester falls backward to the ground, only to get up a second later, now with a 7 glowing within the pentagram on his forehead.

Hank: Taste some freedom and democracy, punk.

The man aims his rifle and—as Art gets to his feet—fires. The projectile slams into the clown's sternum with enough force to break it, lift the guy off the ground, and hurl him into the wheat fields.

The Frenchman lowers his revolver and, with a poker face, looks at the guy from Florida.

Leon: What does freedom and democracy have to do with this?

Hank: Nothing, I just thought saying it would sound cool. Was I wrong?

Leon: No idea, monsieur. Ask her (He gestures towards you with his head). My era's vibe isn't today's vibe.
Hank: Speak for yourself. When I visited Baltimore they made me an honorary member of the Rap Society, all for $200! A bargain.

The stalks rustle and brush against each other. Immediately Hank and Leon aim their weapons towards the noise in the wheat field. Art appears, staggering like a drunk at 3 AM. Without hesitation you move towards him, your eyes on his arm. You swing the full weight of the machete at the same time he swings his axe.

Steel cuts flesh. The axe-wielding arm falls to the ground... You do too. The burning sears your mouth, the axe hit you squarely, tilting your face, and now your blood stains the asphalt (+15 Holy), steaming as it hits the cold. You feel the flesh of your jaw hanging and the inner folds tearing as the nature of the pain compels you to groan.

Hands grab your arms and pull you. Leon and Hank combine their strength to drag you about 15 meters away from Art.

Hank: Fuck, fuck! Don't talk, don't move, don't breathe-

Leon: Better keep breathing.

They help you to your feet, blood soaking your clothes. You look at Hank, he's pale and his eyes struggle to stay on you. You look at Leon, he's frowning and his gaze is fixed on your face. You look at Art, he's sitting, holding his severed arm and trying to put it on his stump like a Lego piece, not with much success. He kicks his legs in a childish tantrum before bringing his severed hand to his mouth, separating his fingers with his teeth, retrieving the freed axe and burying the wooden handle deep into his bloody stump. He plants his good hand on the ground for support and stands up, extending his arms and smiling with his black gums as if presenting a sadistic and mocking show. But you don't see that, instead for a moment you are in a dark room lit only by the screen of a television, a couch directly receives the cathode rays, coloring the traces of fatigue on your father's poorly shaved face, who watches the news without seeing it, killing his time. On the screen a reporter with a pretty complexion speaks about the controversy of a failed execution.
The feared serial killer, Bartolomé Hedrick Syngenta, author of 129 confirmed murders, disappeared this afternoon in the middle of his execution in the electric chair. According to witnesses, the dangerous criminal vanished as if by magic before everyone's eyes.

A black and white photo appears of an ordinary guy, a member of the most mundane crowd, a common face superimposed on the clown's face in your current reality. You blink and find yourself back on the road in the middle of the snowfall, with hellish pain in your mouth. You could swear the damn thing dislocated your tongue.

Leon: Girl, get on the bus and get yourself treated... We'll handle this.

The Frenchman gives you the opportunity to abandon the fight.

Someone whistles from the vehicle. Eleanor leans out and throws something at you. The object hits your chest and falls between your feet... It's a pistol (If you decide to continue, you can use one hand to shoot and the other for the machete. But using the machete brings you closer, making you Art's primary target).

--Art the Christmas clown (6)
HP: 49/100
-Strength: 16 + 18 Firefighter's axe stuck + 1d50 = 10
-Agility: 16 - 4 Firefighter's axe stuck + 1d50 = 12
-Stamina: 16

--Hank
HP: 110/110
-Strength: 12 + Winchester Rifle (x2 damage. Add total agility to damage. 9/15) + 1d50 = 15
-Agility: 8 + 1d50 = 42
-Stamina: 13

--Leon
HP: 150/150
-Strength: 15 + Revolver (x2 damage. 4/8) + 1d50 = 11
-Agility: 20 + 1d50 = 39
-Stamina: 15

>>12607
>If we kill him do we get the equivalent experience x9?
The demons are not dying, just leaving their bodies. If you finish him, you will receive the unique experience of killing Art.

>how?
If Donny had stayed with Irene Gold, he would have found out the whole story, and also had a rather incestuous scene, but I'm rambling. Irene still has a chance to find out what happened.

<what does trolling have to do with this?
Law is a salesman. He sells to everyone and asks a lot in return.

<Could the super almond water cure him?
It's more of a curse than a wound. The level 3 electrician's super almond water worked for his girlfriend for a while, until it ran out and she ate him. I guess it would work with Donny too.

>I don't think he'll live much longer either
Roll a 1d50 die. If you get more than 20, Donny Darko will escape. You can spend a reroll, it would be the 1 of luck he has left. Regardless of the outcome, I can't assure you that Donny and Irene will meet again.

>Now is when I ask what Irene Elite's diary said
Data, logs, and above all, the names of the Irenes crossed out. Summarizing without delving too much: in the current backrooms there are so many space-time messes that the labyrinths are having trouble containing them all, there is a system overload. The visions Irene (and other characters) had are a symptom of this. Irene Gold knew about the problem, resolving the paradoxes and leaving only one Irene would increase the chances that the favored one would have a reasonably normal life, and even return home with Donny. A life away from the trail of the Bacteria, or the Ministry, or anything that pays attention to these anomalies.

<Momo 2(Firstborn): Mom, where do babies come from?
>tag: futa, stomach bulge, impregnation, mind break
It has nothing to do with it, but in an alternate universe there was a doujinshi where Jackie transplanted the egg of nomu something and used it. Although considering the behind-the-scenes stories, like how affectionate a drunk Claire is with Lieko, perhaps Jackie's situation wouldn't be so alternate universe.
Palacios Bicolor Fluorite-a1d49e No.5774 es
4d509e4913d90e8d9f4c6983dd00d9bf1cecc98237b0183dabb40fccd1f9e27d.jpg
76 KB 480×870
spoiler
107 KB 982×833 spoiler
>>5767

>>5767
I actually expected you to use that to tell me to fuck off as soon as I started asking kek
I started doing the calculations and it seems to me that if I get +40 on both shots I can one-shot Olaf with all the damage he's already taken. That's assuming he doesn't kill me now or dodges everything because of 100 agility kek. Since that die is usually reserved for whoever attacks first, I trust that at least the latter won't happen. What I don't trust as much are my calculations, maybe some extra effort will be needed, so before rerolling or saying I'll spend all my energy, I'll wait for you to confirm how much I need to roll to achieve it.

The balls on the floor have a more annoying situation than the previous one. Or so I would say if it weren't because of the cold that's making them climb up his neck. I wish that were a metaphor, but with so many people climbing on him, he's about to end up like that at any moment. He hits, kicks, pushes, tries to break through as best as he can to get to a safer place where he can defend himself like a normal person, but it's clear that's not happening.

"Did you see what I was hitting them with before? If that damn little knife is worth it, then so is yours."

He glances at Polar when he ends up leaning against his back. There are so many dead people everywhere, it's not even worth complaining. Whether it's with bare fists or hitting with a piece of wire, anything goes as long as you don't die. And he certainly wasn't going to let himself die, he'd been through too much shit to jump off the building now.

"You say that, but you were acting dumb when-"

He was about to complain again for not answering him before. The ground vibrating makes him shut up, he sees the guy climb up to the antenna and tries to follow him. Whether it's because of the extra kilos he's carrying or because the tremor doesn't let him walk properly, he ends up having to grab onto the floor for dear life to avoid falling. When it's all over, he sees the giant he's standing on; having one of these gives him more security. He thought he could just sit back and do nothing now, but Polar soon brings him the bad news that more are coming.

"The big one? If we take him down, the rest will go to hell. It works like that, right? Just go at him with everything you've got!"

He looks down with the pistol in hand. There aren't enough bullets to take them all down; if he's going to use them, he might as well use them on someone who can feel them more. The Michelin man was the best option, but then he wonders what will happen to the rest once they take him down. Waiting to hear a positive answer, he turns to Polar to confirm that it's that easy. Whether that's the case or not, he'll end up de-transforming, finding a good vantage point, and firing the two bullets he has left in the hope of not dying in the process.

/roll{1d50{ /roll{1d50}

/roll{1d50{ /roll{1d50}

>>5763
Happy holidays to everyone as well!

>>5764
>Somewhere else is probably the rest, with a sea elephant (Martin) taking up half the screen
The other table https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ctA_n7L88ts
>>5770
>I think those are all the lol-dead
You forgot these legends of the backroom and I swear there are one or two tokens lost somewhere.

>But why does he say it so bluntly kek
It's not a lie

>>5771
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uga8aB1x5HA
Palacios Bicolor Fluorite-a1d49e No.5775 cs
1d50 = 39 1d50 = 32
Otaku con ensoñacion excesiva Legrandite-74772f No.5776 es
7ce1b0e09998699bcdcfefc35a7e9f1167f648611843bfb3d2d4ea22d9a62d00.jpg
198 KB 1026×1130
>>5773
>Irene

Francine helps a lot "Ugh, fine... just continue with the negotiations"

Art is filled with bullets, first he falls with his chest full of lead and then he flies out from the rifle shot, pure American power from Hank.

"Yeah, that sounded pretty cool" Says Irene, she agreed with Hank

Now it's her turn, and she lunges at Art, metal clashes against flesh from both sides, Art loses an arm, she almost loses her face, she barely realizes it when the other two drag her out, the nervous system was doing its job well in temporarily inhibiting pain

"?...?is it bad?" She is understood, barely

Her gaze remains fixed on Art, damn clown was cheating, where had this guy come from?

As if it were a repressed memory, her mind wanders to the past, a Friday night where she could stay up late and watch cartoons, Donny had fallen asleep on another sofa from exhaustion from his practices, so it was just Irene watching TV with her dad, past the child protection hours.

She was still young, not long after her mother's disappearance, and with no one to lean on, she fearfully watches the images on television, a subject so normal, an ordinary man, and yet he could commit so many homicides, spread so much pain, it made her feel very sick.

She was back in the backrooms, and she was bleeding out, it would be a good idea to go back... but she didn't want to leave these two to their fate either, one wrong move and she could end up badly, if she was going to leave, she at least wanted to leave them with better opportunities, she could still hold on.

Eleanor throws her a pistol, Irene picks it up, observes it, and removes the safety, a bullet or two would suffice.

"(Too impulsive, you can't fight like a Lucas or a Mar, I need to be more like a Dronne)" The blood loss was affecting her and she was already starting to use her Chinese monkeys as a combat reference.

She was also launching herself very recklessly, but the difference was that now she had a plan, or something similar.

As she approached, Art's axe swings towards her, however, the world began to move in slow motion... and Irene dodges the attack!, sliding on the snow and cutting off Art's leg with the machete.

Whether she died or remained alive, once she could move again she shoots him twice in the chest, after that she creates distance again if she could.

-Strength: 11 + pistol (you didn't tell me the weapon stats) + 1d50 = 38 + 1d50 = 7
11 + 15 Machete + 1d50 = 37 should I roll another agility die when going two-handed?, I'll do it just in case, if it doesn't count, just take the first die
-Agility: 10 + 1d50 = 8
10 + 1d50 = 41
-Stamina: 10
....
>also had a pretty incestuous scene, but I'm rambling
W-What?

>Irene still has a chance to find out what happened.
>The Law is a salesman. He sells to everyone and asks a lot in return.
If it's as I suspect, I don't know if it would be good for Irene to find out... for her own good, by the way, someone should take away her access to the Eye of Argos

>I guess it would also work with Donny
If it's not permanent then it's not worth it, I also think Donny would be related if he becomes conscious again for just a second

>If you get over 20, Donny Darko will escape.
Well, kek 1d50 = 50

meaning I missed the good ending
Can I ask where the idea came from that some characters' parents had to do with some important aspects of the backstory?, God Maverick's father or Marcos's with that white worm thing

>tag
At least Jennifer is well taken care of

>Jackie
I remind you that that did happen in canon, kek
>>5774
Someone add Donny and Eiko to Hisrol's suffering chart
Otaku con ensoñacion excesiva Legrandite-74772f No.5777 pt
>>5776
oh right if you don't make it, of course use ultra instinct to dodge art
Marisa Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5778 es
>>5762
>Yes, that's my name. I never saw you at my restaurant, how do you know who I am?

"I must have read it somewhere..." Telling the kid he rescued that a weirdo turned him into a girl is less complicated than telling the older man who helped him once, it's too sad "Like on a piece of paper or on the internet. Alondra gave me a computer, but it must have exploded with the workshop." He regrets not trying to see if San Andreas ran on it, although with the connection he had he was never going to be able to download it "The computer exploded, not Alondra. Mercenaries kidnapped her."

He quickly goes from kicking and trying to get away from Tom to hugging him tighter out of fear that the chefs who appear will squeeze his head.

"Are there two now?"

>The brothers will carry your things.

"Ok..." They aren't the ugliest or prettiest creatures he's seen in storage rooms, but if they're friendly he'll try to treat them like a mass of legs in an elevator, without even having to take off his hat as a greeting "That's Flametower. Please treat him well. He's my friend." If humans, glittery things, and chefs can get along, then he has no problem pointing to a robot gun and saying it's his friend.

He walks through the wheat a little lighter, though wishing he was still being carried instead of having to walk, his legs are so tired. He's not sure if he should pray for all the bodies he sees lying around or just leave them be since they're surely going to hell anyway.

>Bill's men.

"Who the hell is Bill?"

>You probably don't know him in person, and it's better that way. He was the sheriff of the commercial city but ended up exiled for corruption. Now he's back, I imagine after hearing about the death of the last sheriff. Bill is a careful opportunist.

"I don't know if he was the one with the electric whip I saw when I was falling. He looked like a boss. But I could have imagined it, I haven't been very conscious." He rubs his head and bends down to pray while Tom smokes.

They keep walking until they stop. They ask him if he's hungry or thirsty, but he's more sleepy and sore all over, he doesn't think anything can fix that with a drink of anything other than medicine, or an energy drink.

He stays quiet while the sandwich maker talks to the pointy-eared women, he has nothing to tell them that they don't already know or that would be helpful.

>Tomorrow for everyone is a hope, not a promise. What we give him is what the false sprout needs.

"My name is Marisa now." That's something they don't know, he thinks "Alondra adopted me."

He tries to distract himself by looking at the bow they give him, he can't hold the archer's gaze for too long, he gets chills from the things she says and his new body gets carried away too easily by emotions, like a little girl.

>So... False sprout, huh?

"María..." He says slowly and uneasily "... middle name Isabel... Third Norton... Fourth Cuarto... I V in Roman numerals." He swallows "Marisa for short."
He clutches the bow like a stuffed animal, it transmits even less warmth than Flametower's inert body, but it's what he has to hold onto while he lets Tom talk.

>My leg itches below the knee. It shouldn't be, I lost it years ago. And for some reason I can't fathom, for the first time since I arrived, the ground feels shaky.

"I don't understand. Do you think it's going to rain?" When his grandmother's knee itches, it's because of that, if not when her bones tremble.

He sighs in relief when they drop the subject, although it's not something so bad that he has to hide it with his life or earn unnecessary suspicion by trying, after all, Tom suddenly doesn't remember a guy he spoke to only once and never saw again, he's spent more time meeting people in storage units than he has committing stupidities in the same place.

>I can leave you here with a chef to look after you until it's all over, or you can come with me to town and fight. Neither option is safe, but it's all there is.

"I'll... go." He says with little to no certainty. "The fact that I became a fake sprout by making a deal with a floating face and I feel bad saying it doesn't make me suspicious." But it does make him a worse liar and maybe an idiot, so he'd better not even try to hide it. "Besides." He points to the town with the bow, not even with an arrow or a tip, but just stretching the bow uncomfortably to point. "There are real sprouts like Dora in that town and very disgusting people nearby. Although I'd really prefer to just be calm and safe, like anyone else, if I can help then I'll try..." He shrugs. "And if I can help with something other than fighting, even better, I don't think I'm a man of action." He's more a man of horror or suspense, those don't tend to survive very often nor do they tend to rush into killing. "Um..." He feels uncomfortable after talking so much and ending with something so pathetic, he has to do something to regain his morale. "Charge!"

He raises the bow high above his head with a battle cry and waits for Tom to lead the charge so he can follow suit. He has no idea what he's going to do, but he's going to do it.

>>5763
>>5764
Happy Easter.

Marcos has met 2 of those 4 canonically and has heard things about Irene from Donny, so he has more right to be there than anyone, if the story wants to cover it up. Aldo. Couldn't they have given Eiko another arm as a gift? If they were going to make her celebrate Christmas in an alternate universe, they could have left her arm, it's not like she was born without it. Nice art. There's a character for each one who's still alive lol except Ringo Road. I say that's enough.

>>5764
>But then I remembered there was another NPC who had the habit of sleeping and would have fit better...
I liked Malory I remembered the other character then, I thought you hadn't used him because you said he died of sleep apnea during Eiko's arc and the sublevel and the bats.

>>5771
I guess Don will never introduce me to his sister now, he didn't tell me how old she was either. Rest in peacerooms, even if I'm not dead.
Rolero Bornite-56d5a8 No.5779 es
41ffb79c51ff9d7d2cd2ee373882ba81caa2a7f554da0876e01fdc9000e5e132.jpg
45 KB 591×591
HAPPY NEW YEAR AND PROSPEROUS 2026 TO ALL WANDERERS!

>>5756
>>5757
>>5758
<Marie Griffin (Day 52, Hour 15)
HP: 100/110
Energy: 63/70
Hunger: 20/21 - Thirst 15/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 16 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Super-Phone (Off. Charge 10/16)
Joseph's Charger
Piece of Moth Jelly Filled Bar (2/4)
-Pink Backpack 6/10
Pencil
Notebook
Contaminated Water Bottle (15/15)
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White Cat Headband

Level 37
Exile the little mushroom to the shadow realm (The other corner of the room).

Lunita: Ow...

She lets out a timid whimper of disappointment, she had already expressed a preference for fungi before.

Calm gives way to a conversation that cuts deeper than the dampness. You allow yourselves to be vulnerable, to be in tune. You don't reach the point of saying you're made for each other, but you hold your blade's company and help in high regard. Ever since you met her, she's been watching your back, whether in celebrations... Or in suffering.

Lunita: Y-You don't have to answer that! Silly me, I made you sad. Sorry...

She regrets asking. While you fall into inevitable introspection, the remembrance of your stay in that dark place, shrouded in gloom deeper than the black waters of the darkpools. You look at the message on your arm. Would you have recovered...? Perhaps with time? Maybe your healing process would have been learning to live with something inside you that you would never cure.

You can't get lost in an alternate scenario. Life smiled upon you, you'll stick with that, and Lunita shares the joy, appearing seated beside you in your imagination as you polish the blade, sharing a smile.

...

A bust...? Could it be Caesar? David?

Luz (Intercom): Could it be...?

The possible reference fills you with determination.
The little old man takes his leave, but the memory of the images you witnessed lingers, and the crucible of emotions brings you to tears. You hold on as best you can, knowing it's time to move on and reunite with your beloved.

Lunita: "Marie, promise me you won't be like this when you get wrinkles."

She's referring to the hermit; your blade didn't take a liking to him. It's a long way off before you get gray hairs, but the thought of having good company when it finally happens comforts you.

Luz (Intercom): "Are you sure everything's okay?"

She senses the turbulence in your voice, but she's nowhere near knowing what's causing it.

Luz (Intercom): "Let me guess... did you get a fungus?"

How did she know that? You hear her let out a small laugh.

Luz (Intercom): "It has to do with the humidity of the level. I heard it happens sometimes, though you're the first person I know of that it's happened to. The right thing to do is to remove them as soon as you can."

The Colombian woman falls silent, as if meditating on it, and a strange tension grows in her silence.

Luz (Intercom): "Did you check your hair?"

By reflex, you bring your hand to the back of your neck, not understanding where Luz is getting at, and-

-Red Mushroom x3
Effect: Eating one fills 10 Hunger and 10 HP.
Description: Red-capped mushrooms with white spots, very fleshy. Great for circulation.

...

Lunita is cool underwater; it would be strange otherwise, being a squid and all. What she does fail at is geography, almost like an average American.

Lunita: "I don't know, but I can see it... Eternal pools, giant rubber beasts, chlorine clouds..."

With a romantic explanation, you clear up the misunderstanding, while rowing hard to change pools and avoid going headfirst into one of those aforementioned dangerous clouds.

You think of the canals of love, of your dream date, and of a dark-haired companion with whom to lock lips. The gondolier is replaced by Lunita; she waves her tentacles at the camera. An unexpected urge to urinate pricks your bubble and gives you a tug that forces you to clench your thighs.
When you gotta go, you gotta go. You park the duck-boat on the ceramic shore and look for a private spot to take care of business. Except it wasn't that private, and Luz finds you mid-act. There's nowhere to hide but your hands, the golden puddle beneath you is the tell-tale heart.

Luz: I didn't see anything- I mean, I didn't see anything I haven't seen before. Ahem!

She closes her eyes and coughs into her fist.

Luz: I'll give you your space.

You resolve your distress, your hygiene, and you meet her gaze again. Tiredness, more mental than physical, prevents you from reciprocating with the same energy.

Luz: Crazy in a good way. Like, super-excited.

You receive:
x2 Twinkies (Cream)
Function: Fills appetite (4/4. 4/4)
Description: Double cake filled with cream.

Luz is a bit tired from all the walking, she gladly accepts to get on the boat.

Luz: Oh, you meant this when you said gondola. That makes sense.

She comments before getting on.

With the tip of your sword, you push off the shore to unmoor the duck, and after stirring the water a bit, you steer the boat into a calm current. The duck's body is circular, its floor is ribbed like some portable pool liners, and you take your places in the ship's molds. You sit down, your shoulder pressed against hers, there's no need, there's enough space, but neither of you makes a move to separate. You open the first package she gifted you and eat, the cake is spongy and the cream is fresh. The Colombian woman extends her hand, it might take you a moment to realize she's asking for the wrapper. Upon receiving it, she puts it in her backpack.

Luz: How?

At first, she blinks, not understanding.

Luz: Was I really that inconsiderate to Achilles? It wasn't my intention, I...

She stops as she catches your little smile. On her face, her pout achieves a greater effect of reproach, surely because normally her upper lip protrudes, not the other way around. You hug her, she doesn't move her head or resist, she just peeks at you out of the corner of her eye before looking away again. You move closer to her. Luz closes her eyes, crosses her arms, and lets out a sigh.
Luz: Yeah, it was pretty silly.

So are you forgiven now?

Luz: Mmmh, I didn't say that. I'm just not mad.

She says as she rests her head on your shoulder, or at least she was until she lets out an "Ouch!" and straightens up. Luz brings her hands to her left ear, the side that was resting. Her palm holds the black earring. She turns her face to you, you notice she's looking at your little ears, smooth, unblemished, virgin.

Luz: They'd look cute on you.

Piercings! Your parents warned you about them, and also about the people who wear them. First it's earrings, then piercings, then tattoos, then drugs and teenage pregnancy. But the question remains: Who incited Luz to commit the original piercing?

Luz: My cousins. Mom helped us. I used an ice cube... It hurt a little. Hmm, maybe it's not a good idea, your earlobes are very sensitive.

How does she know...? Oh, right.

The white illumination weaves over their heads, the sound of clear, calm water flowing relaxes them, they glide between a series of ceramic arches, the occasional colorful fish leaps near the boat. There are no Italians singing, but you know the atmosphere is ideal. Now all you have to do is-

Luz: Yawn

Her arm goes around your shoulders. That move is a trope! But it works on you, and for some reason it must have become a cliché in the first place. In silence, they enjoy the scenery and each other's company.

The shadow of a tunnel approaches. In an ideal world, they could savor the intimacy offered by the darkness. But they can't forget where they are, Luz turns on her lamp and places it in the middle of the boat. After a minute of probing the path, they conclude that there is nothing in the tunnel, just them. It is then that Luz throws her face at you. You know, that look that suggests: "You like kissing Latina tomboys, don't you?" Serious question, can Luz be considered a tomboy?

The beautiful Hispanic young woman brings her lips to yours.

1/2
Rolero Bornite-56d5a8 No.5780 es
d32aed4a6682e585d69ac6ee74c81ccc8adf7ec42ab6d563dd0c14bf77244334.webp
140 KB 1024×1024
8fd13c3e4c7db48d906a12d254aa61f524264acae8895cb73f9218bdbb3b8791.webp
68 KB 1080×1439
340222d9290a64a4a0bd92fa6066784c6fc08c8f6514ff8e6347bb17e22db80f.jpg
60 KB 626×472
>>5779
<Marie Griffin (Day 52, Hour 18)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 60/70
Hunger: 21/21 - Thirst 12/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 16 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Super-Cell (Off. Charge 10/16)
Joseph's Charger
Piece of Moth Jelly Filled Bar (2/4)
-Pink Backpack 7/10
Pencil
Notebook
Contaminated Water Bottle (15/15)
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White Cat Headband
Twinkies (Cream. 4/4. 4/4)

Level 34
You gained 1 experience point!

The sunset is stuck in the sky, there's no other way to describe it. Soft blues, strong oranges, warm pinks, a crucible of hues that accentuates the shadows and coats the palm trees on the beach in an intense black. It's a jungle of silhouettes.

You leave footprints as you step, your little toes rejoice under the warmth of the ground, it's restorative. In your left hand, you carry your sneakers, sprinkled with sand. The right holds a slender hand, pleasant to the touch. You glance, and she notices you looking, she smiles at you: "These colors make it beautiful," is the wild thought that jumps into your head. The calm surf, and the pleasant smell of almonds and salt don't help either...

You're in danger of falling in love with the same person twice. Besides, you're sure you saw this level before, recently, through a door...

They find a garden of moai, large, big-headed statues. Some stand whole, others just show their iconic profiles. Luz chooses one and climbs it without a problem, when she reaches the shoulder she leans down and extends her hand for you to climb up with her. They take a selfie with the big head.

Luz: Did you know that most moai look inland? Only 7, the Ahu Akivi, face the sea. They say they are based on 7 kings, as well as the pioneering natives who discovered Easter Island.

She's cheerful telling it, she's quite the nerd.

Luz: I know because at my school they assigned us presentations on the world's Santas. I got Tawanga, the South Seas Santa Claus.

She did a whole performance, she blushes remembering it.

They can't stay with the moai forever, they have to be at the farm by the deadline set by the leader. But instead of continuing down and jumping straight to the level the brunette assured you would adore, she asks:

Luz: Are you tired?

Your body is doing well, you could even say you've recovered 100% from the experiences in the darkpools. But you know that's not the question. Luz wants to know if you want to spend the night on the beach of the eternal sunset. You shouldn't! You know punctuality is essential.

2/2

Backrooms became a dating sim so gradually I didn't notice, kek, I think I made this joke already.
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5781 es
bedbb43fdfba0acc0f489fabc359fdbb62ddddbe38a1eaac0bbceff37e258b8e.jpg
68 KB 655×960
670900fdda5294d4a9f1905ee5949b1d6a1caba32456f6629e29a90ec7b15e20.jpg
41 KB 728×546
8b92fe87010778b199f84661a9e68628e9db02710f261887be88887aae08cf0f.webp
13 KB 240×240
>>5774
<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, Hour 9)
HP: 77/100
Energy: 47/50
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 18/20
-Strength: 14 + Magnum Revolver (0/6. Damage x3, Priority +2)
-Agility: 13 - 5 Watered Hazmat Suit V2
-Resistance: 14 + 10 Watered Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 3
Inventory
-Pockets 2/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Magnum Revolver (2/6. Damage x3, Priority +2)
Abilities:
Werewolf (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.

Level 11
Radiohead: The big one. I see him.

How could you not see him? You think, while struggling not to lose your balance as the stereo titan moves, standing straight on the road facing the snow giant. Polar frowns when you mention the possibility of the horde disappearing after getting rid of Olaf, he doesn't look convinced.

The white-walkers climb Radiohead's body, their frozen arms and legs know no fatigue, they hurl themselves higher and higher. You are very high up, the distance to the ground and the snow obscure the world, but you can count them thanks to the light in their eyes. Your attention is not on them, but on the fat man. You think with all your might about returning to normal, then it's as if a switch flips and your skin is bathed in a shower of static radiation from a CRT monitor. Your muscles and fat shrink, the hazmat hangs like a yellow trash bag.

You move and stretch your wrist, trying to glove your fingers, the material resists and you don't succeed. Between the buildings, Olaf leans towards the streets and picks up a handful of White-walkers. Clasping his cupped palms, he kneads the zombies and shapes them into a ball of skulls and icy limbs that still writhe and bite.

Polar: Hold on!

The ninja predicts what's coming and throws himself to the ground, clinging with his fingernails to the smooth skin of the shoulder. Junior imitates him, rooting himself. You should do the same...

Olaf swings his arm and throws the ball. The solid sphere impacts Radiohead's chest and explodes, the roar deafens you and the hail drums your back. Radiohead recoils from the impact, stomping and shaking the earth as he tries to maintain balance. Polar, Junior, and you are thrown up and down, hitting your chests against the titan's shoulder. Radiohead plants a foot and gains enough footing to straighten up.

One stride. Two. Three. The snowflakes accumulate and blind your suit's visor at the same time as the inertia shakes you. Radiohead is now two steps away from the snow giant. He prepares his fist and throws it, his knuckles crackle against the wind, they collide and sink into Olaf's face, piercing his head and -as he sinks his arm- pulverizing it.

Radiohead's right arm and half of his torso are lodged in Olaf's bulbous body. You, on his left shoulder, watch as the snow expands and crawls up the titan's body as if it were alive, while it bulges and miniature versions of the giant emerge, which, upon opening their mouths, reveal a series of sharp ice floes.
Polar advances and stands before you. He lifts his chin, seeming confident. In unison, he pulls his hands from his pockets, revealing two grenades.

-x2 Grenade
Function: +100 damage.
Description: Oval hand explosive, secured with a pin.

Polar: "I wanted to save these for fucking Negas! But oh well!"

He brings the left grenade to his mouth and pulls the pin with his teeth. He throws it, the projectile tracing a parabola followed by its shadow, falling into the snow between the Olafs, who turn to stare, mouths agape. The device explodes in a dome of fire, shrapnel, and spike-like shadows that impale.

The grenade injures both the enemies and Radiohead, a consequence of fighting on its body.

Radiohead: "Ouch! Watch it there, fellas."

Once again the roar deafens you. The generated wind ruffles the albino's hair and clothes, a shard grazes his face, opening a bleeding scratch on his cheek, but he doesn't flinch.

Junior: "Wow! Mr. Polar is so cool!"

The wooden child looks at you.

Junior: "Are you really his brother?"

The blast causes Radiohead and Olaf to separate, the stereo titan leans its back against a building to regain energy, shattering windows and bending metal supports. Meanwhile, the steaming snow of the other colossus slowly reassembles to build a new head. It's your chance, you pull the sleeve of the suit with your teeth to glove your hand, insert your fingers into one of the hazmat compartments, and draw.

You fire twice, the power of each bullet makes your arm tense. The projectiles hit the snow and make it jump, preventing the head from forming, buying you a respite or two.

Polar: "Fucking hell, Martín! What are you still doing here? Grab the kid and jump to that building now that you can."

He looks at you over his shoulder.

Polar: "This thing we're fighting, I know its type. They remind me too much of where I come from. I sense it holds more power! So grab the kid and get lost now while there's a sliver of a chance."

Radiohead's speakers begin to vibrate. It seems to be preparing for the second round. Polar is right, if you jump you can reach the floor of the building where the titan leaned, and from there figure out how to escape the city.

--Radiohead
HP: 515/750
-Strength: 40 + 1d100 = 53
-Agility: 40 + 1d100 = 63
-Resistance: 20
Traits:
???
???

--Polar
HP: 125/140
-Strength: 13 + 1d50 = 15
-Agility: 14 + 1d50 = 3
-Resistance: 12
Equipment:
-Grenade
Function: +100 damage.
Description: Oval hand explosive, secured with a pin.
Techniques:
-Shadow Clone Jutsu: Separates your shadow and attacks with it. For 2 turns, it reapplies half of your total damage to the enemy, and reduces half of the damage received.
???
???

-----------------------

--Olaf
HP: 223/500
-Strength: 30 + 1d100 = 45 + 100 Sacrificed White Walkers
-Agility: 10 + 1d100 = 36
-Resistance: 60
Traits:
-Sacrifices White Walkers to increase his attack (Maximum 100)

--White Walker Army
HP: 99737/100000
-Strength: 1d100 = 70
Traits:
-Damage is directed at all characters within range.
-Every time a character is defeated, they recover 100 HP.
Rolero Bornite-56d5a8 No.5782 es
31868e602cd66609b8953557c01be584de4f8633f80f97f5b6ccdb20b2b0f5c1.jpg
196 KB 1166×2048
625b35dd7fd94bcdae207815ccecb2bbe00da538a5bab54d6092085093a0e971.png
768 KB 818×1817
c06aafdc21e1365280cf37f390f640585c159f53d34bb5d9393014e6172f191b.jpg
26 KB 506×810
spoiler
118 KB 1280×720 spoiler
>>5776
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 60, Hour 13)
HP: 88/150
Energy: 32/80
Hunger: 27/40 - Thirst: 27/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete + 9mm Pistol (5/7. Damage x2. Safety off)
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 10
-Luck: 2
Inventory:
-Pockets 0/4
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Ultimate Secret of the Body's Self-Judgment (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it's used).
Effects:
+15 Bleeding

Level 10
Trying to speak blurs your vision and tilts your head, it's as if it makes you drunk, and you sense that your brain is plugging the pain as best it can.

Hank: Do you know the story of Travis the chimpanzee?

Hank chokes on his words.

Hank: In comparison... You're not so bad.

You decide to keep fighting. The guy from Florida turns towards the bus, frowning.

Hank: Eleanor! You can't carry firearms! You're not 15 yet!

You ignore the family dispute, pick up the gun, and remove the safety.

-9mm Pistol (Safety off. 7/7)
Function: Damage x2. You can attack up to 3 times per turn.
Description: Short-barreled semi-automatic firearm

The clown runs towards you, swinging his axe like a madman, his smile fixed, as if the situation amuses him. He's four steps away, three, two... The snow slows down under your perception, and so does he. You can make out the individual designs of the snowflakes, and also how Nadjela and Rosynini cover their faces in slow motion.

Hank: Be caaaaaarefuuuuuuul!

Hank's warning stretches out, his voice sounding much deeper than usual. You turn your face back towards Art and step aside, dodging the axe in front of your chest.

The axe is swung at you, but on the tenth attempt, it only cuts a lock of hair and the tail of your scarf. For the eleventh time, he repeats a slash, from the ground upwards, aiming to split your jaw. You step back, you see the steel's edge pass in front of your nose, without touching. It's then that you take advantage and swing the machete at his leg; the cut is dry and clean, it pierces the flesh and the tibia. Art ends up on his back on the ground, spurting blood from his two stumps.
Art shows you his open hand, waiting for you to pause and have a modicum of consideration. He reaches into his saint's coat and pulls out a small white flag, waves it, and immediately... Tries to stab the pole into your foot! But you saw it coming from miles away, you step back and aim your pistol at him.

You shoot and hit him in the forehead, his head and back slam against the asphalt, chunks of brain splatter in the snow. The hexagram lights up and surrounds the hole you made, closing it with profane magic and changing the 6 to a 5.

As soon as Art sits up, you shoot him again, this time you make a hole in his chest through which you can see his heart... It's black as a piece of coal.

Hank and Leon stand at your sides, looking like a trio of gunslingers. They aim their respective weapons, Hank pulls the trigger, but nothing comes out of the barrel, the bullet jams. He curses and pulls his rifle closer to check it.

Leon: Any problem?

Hank: Nothing, nothing, I'll fix it. It's the first time it's happened to me, really... Wait, I'll put in my lucky bullet...

He pulls the bolt, the mechanisms click.

Hank: All set!

Leon nods. They aim again and open fire simultaneously. The Frenchman empties his magazine. The first two bullets hit the axe and shatter it, sending the blade flying, the next pair severs his remaining arm.

Hank fires his lucky bullet...

Upon impact, Art's body explodes into pieces as if it were filled with gunpowder. The bus windows are drenched in blood, you hear the high-pitched screams of Nad, Sue, and company. You too suffer the same fate, covering your arms to prevent entrails from getting in your eyes.

The Frenchman gives Hank a long look and asks what kind of illegal projectile that was.

Hank: Nothing, it's a souvenir from when I went sightseeing in Kosovo.

The puddle of smoking pieces that a second ago was a killer clown remains inert.

Hank: Looks like it's over...

You can breathe a sigh of relief. This means that slowly but surely your pain receptors are threatening to wake up. At least that was the case until Francine peeks her head out, disheveled, from behind the curtains of the gingerbread embassy.

Francine: I forgot to tell you, under no circumstances should you destroy the vessel's body while it still has demons inside. Doing so would be a terrible mistake... That's all.
Go back inside.

You exchange glances between yourselves and the meat-jelly.

Leon: Is there a human capable of reassembling themselves from this?

Hank: No, I know we won. I have faith in Christ the King.

You feel a tingle on the back of your neck and your arms stand on end, an aftertaste of chocolate and garden dirt disturbs your tongue. A portion of space above the road contorts inward, as if preparing to vomit something, and as it reassembles, a young man, a woman in a wheelchair, and a twenty-foot-tall smiler who isn't smiling appear out of nowhere. You recognize at least one of them.

Claus: Did we do it...? Yes, we did it, we survived the no-clipping and-!

He falls silent and his eyes widen as he notices your presence.

Claus: I-Irene...?

The horrific wound in your mouth makes him not recognize you.

Claus: Irene!

He runs towards you and hugs you tightly, almost knocking you over. You stain his hair with your blood.

Claus: You're alive!

He feels you to make sure you're real. He pulls away and gives you a big smile. He looks at the men accompanying you, someone is missing.

Claus: Where's Donny?

A groan of pain makes him look back. The woman in the wheelchair frowns, grits her teeth, and digs her nails into the armrests with such force that she tears the leather, the skin on her face reddens with fury. She writhes and screams as if she had burning coals inside her, her belly begins to swell as if filling with air, tearing her blouse and revealing a growing abdomen with inflamed veins. The suffering dazes her and she tilts her head, her mouth agape and drooling, her glasses slide down and break on the asphalt. A golden, steaming puddle grows beneath her, while her belly continues to grow.

Everyone instinctively steps back a couple of paces. Her belly, which had been crushing her against the back of the chair, achieved inhuman proportions. The woman convulses, tears spring to her eyes, she tries to scream but her voice dries up. With the sound of tearing flesh, the woman explodes, scattering a new rain of blood and viscera.
Art the clown appears from the bloody flower that the girl now is, doing a somersault and standing up with a jump. He waves his hands and smiles, again, as if he had just presented a trick. Seeing that they only give him expressions of absolute horror, he snorts annoyed and slaps his hands on his hips. He tries to take a couple of steps forward, but an umbilical cord on his side pulls him towards the dead weight that Olivia now is. He pulls and detaches himself from the appendage as if it were a pacifier.

Hank: Okay! I'm sick of clowns! Momo never said

Leon puts away the discharged resolver and draws a knife. Now Claus and the smiler are also supporting. Time to murder the serial killer!

--Art the Christmas clown (3)
HP: 100/100
-Strength: 16 + 1d50 = 31
-Agility: 16 + 1d50 = 38
-Stamina: 16

--Hank
HP: 110/110
-Strength: 12 + Winchester rifle (x2 damage. Add total agility to damage. 7/15) + 1d50 = 28
-Agility: 8 + 1d50 = 10
-Stamina: 13

--Leon
HP: 150/150
-Strength: 15 + 6 folding knife + 1d50 = 10
-Agility: 20 + 1d50 = 22
-Stamina: 15
Equipment:
-Folding knife
Function: +6 damage. Causes bleeding if it hits a soft area (-6 HP per turn. Can be accumulated)
Description: Simple bladed weapon to hide. Ideal for surprise stabs.

--Claus (Amnesiac)
HP: 100/100
-Strength: 2 + 1d50 = 46
-Agility: 2 + 1d50 = 32
-Stamina: 2

--Smile the smiler
HP: 150/150
-Strength: 10 + 1d50 = 50
-Agility: 0 + 1d50 = 43
-Stamina: 10
Traits:
-Receives +50 Agility when no one sees him.
-Can attack 2 times in one turn.

...

>Do I have to roll another agility die when going two-handed?
It's not strictly necessary. You can use the same agility die for multiple attacks. The same applies to the strength die, although keep in mind that if you get a low roll, all linked attacks will be affected.

>H-How?
Yep, Pic spoiler is a clue to what might have happened.

>41
Okay, he escaped. Level 19, which always requires having a devourer, attracted him and gave him a home.

>Can I ask where the idea came from that the parents of some characters had something to do with some important aspects of the backstory
You're welcome. It was more of a spontaneous thing.

>Jackie
It's good that Jackie left. I think in the long run she would have had a lot of child support debts, kek.
Rangato Andalusite-b6fbb8 No.5783 es
31ec322ea0281b4f89887c091bec55f723d096b44b507b9b7b6af6c283e99cc3.jpg
65 KB 576×324
>>5765
Sorry for the delay, holidays and all that, in a few days it's an important date followed by another...

He slurps and slurps with guttural sounds, and when he's done, he starts purring.

[Now I understand why Gorefield likes this fruitless activity so much... My compliments...]

[Who?]

[We are very distant relatives, but let's say he's my cousin so you can understand...]

[Uh-huh... And you can't move anymore?]

The question was rather obvious, this cat is quite comfortable on the floor while it digests, or whatever it does, with what it puts in its mouth. In all the darkness and in the middle of its inspections after eating, it notices a snake in the basement... Another problem that it doesn't know if it will be dangerous...

Whatever, it will deal with that tomorrow. It's going to sleep once and for all, and like when it was little, it makes sure its teddy bear is in its field of vision before closing its eyes, since it will warn it of any danger... If it were alive, of course, but since the closest thing it has now is Marietta, it serves the purpose. It lies down and allows tiredness to wash over its body as it hugs its folds and falls asleep.

...

From what I understood Although it made sure to fall asleep next to the dwelling of strange nature, upon waking, all it could find was a sack of stones that for some reason exists and is real. It doesn't question it, it has carried several before, and heavier ones, but it finds it strange. And for some reason, it feels stronger...

But something wasn't right, and that strange feeling doesn't go away until it sees her in the kitchen.

[Hello... Is there a radio... here...?]

It waves its hand in greeting and goes to the radio almost immediately, moves the mechanism and changes the signal to who knows what part of the multiverse, it only knows that the radio does exist here with all the inexplicable things...

https://youtu.be/-gNytr9GNqU
[Ah... Was it you...? Ah... Is it a worm...? Ah... Are there skeletons...?]

And so on, it's not very awake and even if it were, it's still a creature of few words. While eating or watching her eat, it mentions that it has a gift made especially for him. It tenses up, that's not a good sign, gifts are dangerous... But it sees that she only gives it a sweater made of some kind of fur, it's his, it's surprised but accepts it.

It smells it from above and points to itself, incredulous, gifts are supposed to explode after a while but now it doesn't see any mechanism or anything flammable. But Ghasto taught me that when you receive a gift you should say...

[Thank you... It's pretty...]

And it was being sincere. It's not the first gift it has received, but it is one of the few that were not mortal, like Mrs. Buttercup's... So it's not unfamiliar with cohabitation, although inexperienced, it is...
[I think... yes... but... what else... do I wear... underneath...?]

So far he's only been wearing his cloak, his pants, and his spiked armor++. Nobody knows the last time his pants were washed, so they're probably kinda dirty, not to mention worn out. Surely there's more clothing around somewhere if they look hard enough... You help him put on the apron because he's tall and assumes he's supposed to start working, but first...

[Hmmmm...]

He spreads his arms around Marietta, wraps them around her and pulls her into a hug, lifting her slightly and gently shaking her back and forth to restore her motivation, because he just remembered they're trapped... After setting her down, he steps back and gives a thumbs-up, pondering what to do next...

[I'll... handle it... You... watch over me... Yeah...]

He'll do this many more times, even multiple times the same day, just to thank her for being there.

>>5766
Countless classic training routines and ways to pass the time, aside from eating or hugging his new purple teddy bear. Shoveling snow, moving sacks, taking showers... It's hard to describe what kind of life this is, but it reminds him of his days at the bakery, although now the feeling is somehow different and he doesn't know why.

Whatever, lunch is ready... It feels strange eating without fighting first, but since that's how it's been since he arrived, he lets it slide. Eating meat from beneath his mask, he tastes something odd—again, he can't name it, but anyone would say it tastes like home...

[Does... lava? Like... volcanoes? And what... do we... do... with it...?]

He doesn't know what lava is for, but assumes it's hot. The problem is, if they remove it, the fridge will stop working and the food will spoil. Which would be the same as having no food.

[My... room...? Do I... have one...?]

He falls asleep with her and plans to keep sleeping with her, but still isn't exactly sure how many rooms this house has. Pointing at Ghasto, the latter remains completely relaxed and cozy, not worried about anything serious. They mention his name and he says...

[I'm not a dog, sweet Marietta. And even if I were, I can't do much like this—just don't push it and wait...]

He purrs louder, and Marietta leaves only to return shortly after with a strange game in a strange box.

[What... is that...?]

Rando doesn't really know what a puzzle is. He understands the concept of "breaking heads," but that requires blood and muscle. Those little painted pieces don't look very tough either... He doesn't get it... Anyway, the point is, if they start and finish it, he'll then go check what's up with the skeletons in the pond—he just realized they even have them.

...

>didn't turn on the electricity

Was there electricity while the house was dead? I thought it was like Nevercracker Kek

>+10

Plus 10 what, dude?
Otaku con ensoñacion Labradorite-616732 No.5784 es
spoiler
91 KB 767×998 spoiler
a58c8be0723d8957981a26899860aec13e6560d4fd20a19da197d0a453bbecca.gif
389 KB 400×168
spoiler
846 KB 947×2045 spoiler
>>5782
>Irene

"Chimpanzee? (Chimpanzee?)" Talking only makes her head hurt more, it was a better idea to stay quiet and endure the urge to faint from blood loss.

She had to concentrate, if she relaxed for a second she was going to die, if she didn't move, she was going to die. With the gun in hand and the machete in the other, she's going to fight Art again.

They both run at each other, but Irene is faster, faster by a huge margin even if it was only by a single move, a move with which she leaves the clown one-handed, now lame.

"..."

The clown falls, and Irene glances at him out of the corner of her eye while aiming the pistol, but the clown surrenders with a white flag, maybe he was French like Leon, but he attacks her treacherously with the flag! The French are indeed evil beings. Irene dodges by moving her foot and puts a shot between his eyebrows.
The clown gets up again and she shoots him in the chest again.

Hank and Leon join her and fill Art with lead as if they were protagonists of a movie that was a bad adaptation of a biological hazard video game series. Hank delivers the final blow and makes him explode with his ultra-illegal special bullet.

She barely has time to cover herself with her arm, and she can't express her displeasure for obvious reasons either.
It seemed they had won... except for Francine's last-minute info.

"I'm going to kill her"

She looks at the body again, could he get up from that? She doubted he was a Nomu from Boku no Hero to withstand that level of bodily destruction and he surely didn't have a power to fix himself by going backward.

Then space distorts, preparing for the worst and for Art to return, or worse, for it to be a bacteria, although with that she wasn't sure if bullets would work, she still prepares the gun, although space only spits out a girl in a wheelchair and...

"Claus?"

The amnesiac boy throws himself at her in a hug, and she can't help but do the same, a familiar face was welcome.

"B-Be careful, I'm going to get you dirty"

>"Where is Donny?"

The question hits her soul directly, before the disturbing scene, she only manages to ask.

"I was going to ask you the same thing"

Then the unthinkable happens, in a grotesque scene that makes her recoil while holding Claus by the shoulder, the girl in the wheelchair expands like a balloon until she bursts in an explosion of blood and viscera. The clown returns.

Irene gets a nervous tic, she's also sick of clowns something Jennifer would say

She looks at Claus and motions for him to go behind her to be safe, she looks at the little Smiler, says nothing and now all together they go against Art, she starts by shooting him three times and then goes with the machete to try to cut off his hand.

Strength: 11 + 9mm Pistol (5/7. Damage x2) 1d50 = 31 1d50 = 43 1d50 = 19
11 + 15 Machete 1d50 = 24
-Agility: 10 + 1d50 = 20 (Machete)
1d50 = 37 (Pistol)

...

>dice
I see, I see, because of my anxiety I'm rolling several anyway

>spoiler
fuck

>devourer
At least he kept a good title, Donny reminds me of Denji from CSM part 2, he wanted to have everything and make everyone happy and in the end he was left suffering and with nothing, the bad thing is that he is not a protagonist to be able to recover, sad

>debts
Keksito, too many zombie offspring out there would have been a big problem, at least in the continuity of my head post-role, Joy exists to continue the zombie line
Rolero Jeremejevite-81269c No.5785 es
69aabb91f9f236ac3b5c927a8eb697e6a5f1f04c82f2b99ad846db93159342b8.webp
12 KB 300×294
OP here. Because of everything that happened in my country, I couldn't pay attention to the roleplay, but everything is normalizing now, and starting this weekend I expect to catch up.

Thanks for everyone's patience.
Palacios Garnet-47e3c3 No.5786 es
ef5e71e03fc9b6fbb7b14faa628bd8fb3c6b20d99100da7067e352f81840ff29.png
312 KB 640×480
spoiler
91 KB 654×1024 spoiler
spoiler
737 KB 1879×1862 spoiler
>>5781

"The one who wants to latch onto my name is him, ...do you think he looks like he’s named Palacios?

This one, they toss her around every 5 minutes, it costs an egg and half of another to find where to hold on every time the ground slips or gravity tries to do its thing. Let alone standing up straight, with all the problems she manages to have 10 seconds of peace in which she manages to straighten up enough to manage to shoot. Seconds that she almost ends up wasting by starting to make conversation with the kid. I hadn't thought of it until now, but I don't remember her supposed brother giving her his last name.

"And run where, you piece of shit? If you haven't noticed, the whole place is messed up. Besides, do you think I can run much with this belly? You're light, go see if you can find something or someone to lend a hand."

Anyone with two brain cells to rub together would know it was better to take down the big one to get things to calm down, rather than running away. Stubborn as hell, he decides to stick to that idea and wasn't going to let anyone dissuade him from his madness. He wasn't going to leave, but that doesn't mean he was going to leave the little kid trapped here. He grabs him, transforms, and throws him up to see if that way he can find something that contributes to this situation.

"Stop worrying about others and just keep throwing things yourself!"

Following her own advice, she begins to gather all the pieces of rubble, glass, metal. Anything she finds from when the building broke due to the proximity and starts throwing it with malice against the snow giant. She doesn't care if it scratches him, it's damage and however little it does, it's still one step closer to taking him down.

1d100 = 65 1d100 = 83

>>5778
>Couldn't they give Eiko another arm as a gift?
The mecha-arm Alondra was making for him got lost in the mail.

>alternate universe
I was going to make a joke that with so many Eiko variants you could make the Invincible meme, but the algorithm beat me to it and showed me this. Even I don't know where the Eikoverse begins and ends anymore.

>>5776
>Donny and Eiko to the suffering chart
Done, I was going to include more characters from the roleplay, but I feel like they would end up taking already used spots.
Rolero Jeremejevite-81269c No.5787 es
fbaea336cf801177056bbc59e9bb9c8ea13fbd9accbb35c4675052062d05e87c.jpg
381 KB 867×1300
>>5768
>>5769
>>5770
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 22. Hour 8)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 50/70
Hunger: 10/20 - Thirst: 10/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by CH. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Gram of salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 10
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQ-fuFd4GXcPerhaps if you gather enough innocence on your face, Charmy will believe your doubt is sincere.

Charmy: To me, it's white.

You grab your hair in your hands. It looks like snow. Hilda likes to hug it and bury her face in it, and when she inhales, it usually tickles you, besides stealing the occasional kiss. Her lips are small but inexhaustible.

Charmy: You are not the daughter of dwellers, Catherine, nor are you the mix of a dweller and a normal person. Tonight you can sleep peacefully.

You perceive a certain undertone in her tone when she says the last part, as if she knows you sleep soundly like a baby, and therefore you are not sincere with your worry or your question.

Charmy: We have plenty of beds in the attic.

That's another matter you'd rather postpone, you already had a bed, soft, white, good, with footprints on the sheets because Hilda didn't care about wearing shoes inside. A bed so comfortable that every night a pair of arms surrounds you, and a leg crosses over your belly without fail. Closeness and warmth welcome in increasingly cold weather, a temperature that the other kids confronted by adding thicker blankets to their beds. The only problem for you: sometimes idle thoughts made it difficult to sleep.

You want to know if it would be better or worse to keep the improvement from your hypothetical training. Charmy rubs his chin with his hand, you know it doesn't mean it itches or hurts, but that he's thinking.

Charmy: Actually, no. Hilda is a girl with whom subtleties end badly.

You know that. You also know that you don't want to be separated from her. Returning to your home now... It would be a tragedy. Among the strange places there are wonderful places, and even more wonderful people. Tears soak your face as you acknowledge it. Hunched over as you are in your sadness, it's easy for a small hand to pat your back.

Charmy: I've never lost one of my children and I don't plan to start now. Come on, wipe your tears. Your friend will be here to pick you up soon, that much is 100% certain.

She was right. Hilda rescued you from the sword.

One of the following nights, in front of the doors to the dining room where the kids were waiting for their daily dinner, a girl stopped you for a chat (She literally moved sideways like a crab to prevent you from walking past). All of Moon's movements were relaxed, she almost seemed to float. If you saw her in the woods at night, you'd think she was a ghost.

Moon: It's dangerous to go alone, take this.
She extends her hand and waits for you to reciprocate. Moon opens her fingers and drops a handful of sea salt into your palm.

Moon: Volatile sulfur, malleable mercury, and solid salt. They are the three fundamental principles of alchemy.

As she explains, her calm smile seems to be above any material matter, not with petulance, but with solemnity.

Moon: The leader mentioned your feet have been feeling a bit wobbly lately. Carrying a gram of salt in your pockets will safeguard you. I bet you already feel heavier.

...

There was no logical or scientific basis, but there you were, with salt in your pockets and turtle anuses projected by your gray matter. Soon, an important and overwhelming memory, like tolling bells, blurred by tears and exhaustion that assailed you then, also resonates.

You confessed your love...

And you were too consumed to see the reaction of the person who drives you wild. You remember waking up late the next morning, and Hilda brought you breakfast in bed. The tough girl looked so attentive and worried that she felt your forehead to make sure you didn't have a fever. After you reassured her, you spent the whole day together. You visited the forest, played ball with the gluffs (literally), chased butterflies (they were actually male deathmoths), and flew on brooms while catching snowflakes with your tongues.

But hours before that, and while you were murmuring in your sleep, what happened was that Hilda became... speechless.

Hilda: ...

She carefully placed you in bed and moved a lock of your hair with her fingers so it wouldn't disturb your face. She stared at you, tilted her head, and said in a barely audible voice:

Hilda: Why...?

She wanted to know what made you fall in love with her to repeat it over and over, but in your state, you couldn't answer her. In the end, she shrugged and gave a satisfied smile. She got the girl she likes! It was harder than a fistfight, she almost ruined it, but the simple equation is: Cat's Love + Hilda = Happy Hilda.

She pulled the sheets over both of you and snuggled up to you, as she had so many nights before, as she would so many nights after.

1/?

>I think you forget who you're talking to
And here's her ending >>5782 Maybe I went a bit too far.

>I imagine that's a spoiler
Yep. It will be revealed soon.

Also, my apologies for the delay. Now I show up and it's not even a full turn. I'm a scoundrel, I disgust myself Okay, let's not exaggerate. I have no excuses. What happened in the country disrupted my routine and my expectations for the future. I'm still adjusting. I could have written this days ago, and with each passing day, I felt worse for not starting. I decided to reread a book I really like for inspiration. It worked.

Now, I'm back. I just hope you haven't all become lolcows, though I would understand.
Rolero Jeremejevite-81269c No.5788 es
20d96d40d6ed05317268bc1770c9f0677baeac776303394fd40b9da2b7df17d1.jpg
253 KB 1008×1024
96569d26b25e8bd81a4e323063bb7ee4d4ae62e727c3ce7d87005d55a35db6c9.png
247 KB 767×319
4dc064268903b65c6f9db02ec5a3e9aaed15c5038c01a80afbb0ecd1337214ab.webp
107 KB 1000×1000
ee2afec95823efff5a1bcf21cabd63f1ba3f5eb1f7f48737a300a4ed2adb21a4.jpg
83 KB 800×800
59093be85029ded1c24e0e535b7b2ba46bedcbf7a1f76605b818382198f6cd5f.jpg
137 KB 780×438
>>5787
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 22. Hour 8)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 50/70
Hunger: 10/20 - Thirst: 10/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Gram of salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 10
Hilda tilts her head and puts her ear next to your lips. With a Washawashawasha you clear up the misunderstanding. Her eyes are wide with surprise, as is her mouth, which she leaves open. She looks at the big monkey, then back at you, and buries her face in her palms, where she proceeds to growl and mumble that she's made a fool of herself.

Hilda: I should have asked... Why don't I ever ask?

You're just as bad, which is why you reach for Sebasquatch's head, but you can't reach him because he stands tall, his height like five Catherines stacked up. The reward for your effort is brushing his ID badge, it's solid and shiny, made of gold.

Gold...? Nurse, make a note of that. Maybe we can dig up some logic from all this incoherence.

You hear a hoarse, aged voice, accompanied by the ticking of a clock, as clear as if it were right behind your head. You turn to find the source, but the fabrics and chains block your movements and prevent you from stretching your legs beyond the gurney. The gold and burgundy are gone. The gothic windows have dirty, barred glass, framing the rays of a storm. The walls are made of brick as solid as it is hopeless. Cracks exude a frigid wind that shakes the light bulbs and stirs the shadows. You could swear there are pale worms in the fissures.

Is this...? A glimpse of lucidity?

Says the old man with the aquiline nose as he removes his glasses. A nurse with a face and body as thick as a bulldog's, and two orderlies with strong, hairy arms, wait by the doctor while their eyes dart restlessly, clearly alert and cautious of your reaction.

Catherine, listen to me, this is Doctor Kraepelin. You have to come back to us, I repeat, you have to come back to the real world.

Your eyes close in an act of resistance, denying what you see, wanting to return or be consumed. When you reopen your eyes, you are sitting in the dining room with elegant tablecloths.

You have an appointment with the doctor, not the old man whose vision assaulted you, but with Charmy's acquaintance. Your examination will happen soon, and then what? Mystery. But it's not healthy to despair over future delusions. Instead, you take a deep breath with the tranquility that the company of your dreamed-of child brings you.

You turn your big eyes back to Hilda, only to find her kneeling on the seat, with two knives sticking out of her mouth like steel fangs. She claps.

Hilda: AU! AU! AU! What am I?

That's an easy one, you say it.

Hilda: That's right, I'm a meatwalrus!

She spits, the first knife embeds itself in the tablecloth. She spits again, the second knife stands upright next to the nice pepper shaker.

Hilda: And you looked me in the eye. Now you're the meatwalrus!

You understand the reference because you played it with her, and Dora, and Yodel, and any kid who met Hilda and she forced to participate. The game is simple: You have to run from the meatwalrus, and if she sees you and you look back, you become another meatwalrus, forced to help chase the others. The last human left wins. The winner was Joseph, because he claimed he'd removed his eyes before starting. Of course, he didn't actually remove his eyes; he was speaking on an imaginary level.
You change the subject. Stars—when you ask, Hilda flinches and looks up at them.

Hilda: Momo has one that Marie gave her, they're not special.

That doesn't mean the hotel's stars belong to Marie, only that they imply her complete lack of specialness. The princesses might know more about it, but they're too busy making biting remarks and giggling at Hilda's low-class attitude. The laughter intensifies when the tough girl decides to suck on a lemon.

You step closer to correct her manners. She stares at you with narrowed, teary eyes, the lemon still stuck between her lips. You grab the citrus peel and pull it away, breaking the thin threads of saliva. Freed from the lemon, Hilda gulps deeply, coughs, then sticks her tongue out, letting it hang, exhausted from the sourness. Obediently, she shows you her hands—her nails are dirty and broken, but there are no wounds; you know that skin isn't easy to pierce.

Hilda: And why would I want to wash my hands?

She asks, lifting her chin slightly and raising one eyebrow. Now that you think about it, you've never seen her use the washbasin. Regardless, you prepare the bowl for her. Hilda rolls her eyes and, without looking, barely touches the water with her fingertips.

Hilda: There, done.

You must insist. She closes her eyes and huffs.

Hilda: Fine, but I'll only do it because you asked.

She dips her little hands in and scrubs them, then dries them on the tablecloth just like you do. She watches you expectantly as you squeeze lemons into the unused bowl—pulp and juice give it color, but it still lacks sugar, and food too, because no one can live on lemonade alone. What does Hilda want to eat?

Hilda: Hot dogs!

Oh no...

You imagine a roasted turkey—but with Doggo's head sticking out! Well, maybe you imagine that if you don't actually know what a hot dog is. Hilda shouts her demands at the monkey; you add meat and fish. Now that they're close, you can assess the entity more accurately—its body clad in a red page uniform is small, but its head is disproportionately large, making it wobble, with huge eyes and sharp, shark-like teeth in multiple rows, and instead of hands, it has knives, or feather dusters, or spatulas—whatever tool it needs for serving.

Hilda: And make sure it's cooked!

She climbs onto the table and yells the reminder. The princesses at the neighboring table gasp in offense and shoot her hostile glares. Hilda turns her backside toward the seat.

Hilda: Once Dark took me to the freak tunnel and they gave us raw fish, as if we were stupid enough to eat that.

The monkey arrives pushing a cart. Using tongs, it first places on the table a magical lamp of incalculable value—which, when uncovered, turns out to be just a simple sugar dispenser. Next come strange buns with elongated capsules of red meat inside.

Hilda: Hot dogs!

She exclaims with her mouth wide open in a grin. She grabs one and takes a big bite, sending condiments flying and smearing her lips with the colorful streaks of various sauces.

She chews, chews, and chews, her face flushed with satisfaction. Is it really dog meat?

Hilda: Ewstaf rwico.

She speaks with her mouth full. The dark-haired princess brings the back of her hand to her forehead and collapses backward onto her chair. The blonde quickly rushes to hold her hand while the brunette fans her face with a napkin.

2/4
Rolero Scorodite-0adf57 No.5789 es
cc03a1428633c92609d869fa85a98c07751b0a5440af9003574f3b6ccfb8f25b.jpg
1.56 MB 4858×3239
3fed3a847c1b971b04c422b5402dcbc21a7d83fe0895beaebba796fb87fbb7d9.jpg
22 KB 735×363
a11492ba12112a9e3370e6ef8ee245c80c831ba5860efa20167e5f3a20131893.jpg
57 KB 630×430
>>5788
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 22. Hour 9)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 49/70
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Gram of salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 5
Fish and meat. Never has ambiguity brought you so many blessings. Steak, marinated gluff, chicken in sauce, stewed beef, roast lamb, mind-blowing sea bass, salmon en croûte, cod, and even super rare megabite shark ceviche.

There you are, sprawled on the chair with your belly pressed. If you try one more spoonful, you'll explode. As a complaint from your stomach, a small burp escapes your lips. Hilda laughs and lets out her own, more prolonged one, and immediately dips her greasy little mouth back into the dishes.

"It's free!" she assured with her mouth full a few moments ago, and perhaps you could figure out why not more people come here, there's space, food too, and monkeys. Maybe that's the problem, the monkeys, not everyone tolerates them and hostility can be mutual.

Sebasquatch not only let them have lunch, he also gave them a room, and Hilda invited you to take a walk in it, a walk is always good for digestion. They counted the plates on the doors: 6012, 6013, 6014, 6015! It's the number on the keychain of the key Sebasquatch gave them. Hilda, without a second thought, inserts the key and makes her way in.

The room is like entering the layers of a cake where the baker had no consideration for the amount of frosting. Sebasquatch described it as very "rococo," and Hilda replied: "Great! I like rocks!" with a preference not so much geological as for hardness. Hilda feels it's appropriate to like things that endure and cause pain; she identifies with it.

Hilda: This isn't very rocky.

She says, grabbing the pearl-colored curtains with her hands, and looks out the window. Outside, snowflakes drift in the white nothingness, or so you thought, because as you focus your gaze, you swear you see a silhouette in the distance, resembling a tuber of biblical proportions. It's hard to tell how far away it is or how big it is. What could it be?

Hilda: I don't know...

She presses her face against the glass, and even then she can't get an answer. So far, it's the first entity Hilda doesn't recognize. Back to the rococo, the place is large, worth exploring, but you don't know if you'd call that a walk. The first door leads to a bedroom with a huuuuge bed. Hilda runs and jumps on it, starts bouncing, the soles of her shoes marking the sheets. You, meanwhile, probe with your sharp senses. There's a closet, and upon opening it, you are dazzled like a flower because it's overflowing with long, delicate petals: Dresses. Long, flowing, frosty, sequined, ruffled, there's everything.

The memories of the restaurant princesses return to you, and with them, the brief insecurity their impeccable dresses caused you.

3/4
Rolero Scorodite-0adf57 No.5790 es
7b896b442fd59a6068a96f8672a19c504dfa345e9be8a93017ffbf4f611010c2.jpg
217 KB 800×597
a97c110a08553a0d45420d42a1bfd573d5afde9a3e45e6ec8a57a3800aa806a6.jpg
77 KB 1080×608
600 KB
>>5788
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 22. Time 9)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 49/70
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Gram of salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 5
What is there to find? Can they really walk around in a place so small compared to nature? There is a bathroom with a golden tub and a mirror for a ceiling; A dining room with a table larger than the one on the farm; Also a living room with a flat rectangle that Hilda called a television. You pressed the button that turns it on for experimentation, and what was once a smooth opaque crystal now shows the following musical:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sMRcIOjdojUYou press the button that changes the image.
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/SibQx6kzBS4You press the button on the device again.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zmX7K8noikE
... The programming is disconcerting, to say the least. Hilda peeks from the doorway leading to the room and notices you standing a foot away from the television.

Hilda: Hey, what are you doing? Let's go for a walk.

You head for the door leading to the hallway, but she grabs your hand and pulls you back into the bedroom. She pushes aside the canopies, gets on the mattress, and crawls, wiggling her butt, until she reaches the painting that adorns the headboard of the bed. She places her forehead against the oil painting, lets out a grunt of pressure, and... Pop!

At first, you think she went through the wall, but you didn't hear anything tearing or breaking. Hilda keeps pushing herself in, inserts her little arms, her solar plexus, the progress is slow but adequate, until she pauses completely at waist level. The bully wiggles and kicks, she can't tell you anything because her mouth is in another place. That she needs help is obvious.

You get on the bed and crawl to where the blue-haired girl is, and when you get there, you assess the problem. Hilda's butt is still wiggling, she's alive, but the way her shoes slip on the mattress without getting any traction is a clue that she's getting annoyed. One option is to grab her waist and pull, but if you do that, her foot will hit your chest and send you rolling off the bed (-20 HP if that happens). Another option would be to run and ask the monkeys for help, but your sixth sense (OP) tells you that's not what Hilda wants. There's no other way...

It's time to push. You place your hands on her butt, it's round and soft, although it's far from competing with Luz's or Seriozha's rear. But this is not a stress ball for you to distract yourself with, you push with all your might. The oil painting gives way, Hilda goes in, and you go headfirst with her...

...

Level 38.5114
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QxHkLdQy5f0You gained 1 experience point!
As you flutter your eyelashes, the color dazzles you. You sit up and find yourself surrounded by roses, tulips, sunflowers, orchids, and lilies, and that's just to name a few, outlined by a dull sun. It's a silky world, it looks like it was painted with brushstrokes, and when you look to your right, you discover another flower lying on its chest, one that pricks, with long blue hair and its feet swinging peacefully.

Hilda also looks painted. She has a surprise for you, she asks you to look away, and when she gives you permission to look at her again, she extends a flower crown she made right there with the hands God gave her.

Hilda: They're not like the other one, they won't make you feel ugly.

You tilt your head and allow her to crown you. Hand in hand with the bully, you start to frolic with her, you spin around and raise a dance of petals. From one moment to the next, Hilda decided to let go of you, remaining happy, and then amazed, just watching you flow among the painted flowers.

4/4
Rolero Cassiterite-5ac05d No.5791 es
33f0a51fa90bc56d734310f509de86f27ab484b3ee9699b1b284882157eef49c.jpg
86 KB 1024×729
2f8520d51dc49739fe1a36c51f5ff53a3b1e203f685546190cce6283c1f4b554.png
346 KB 512×512
efd583268d5b3593153e015f6d016b952519f70d409647a34598af47a68a68ff.webp
93 KB 570×805
>>5778
<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, hour 10)
HP: 30/80
Energy: 46/100
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 19/21
- Strength: 8 + Small bow
- Agility: 10 - 5 Orange star cloak
- Endurance: 10 + 5 Orange star cloak
- Luck: 0
Inventory:
- Pockets 4/4
Trinket
Trinket
Trinket
Lever
- Small quiver 12/12
x12 Regular arrow
- Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
You ask them to handle the robot infant carefully. The obese giants, with their bulbous faces and tiny eyes, exchange glances before turning to you and nodding in unison. One of them grabs Flame by the head and lifts him up. The automaton remains powered off and doesn't react as they stuff him into a sack to carry him without scattering more parts.

Tom: An electric whip, you say?

He lifts his face and scratches his chin, like you've made him think of something.

The archers withdraw, wrapped in their perpetual veil of mystery. Tom and you head down a dirt path toward the village visible above the wheat fields. The gunfire has stopped echoing through the settlement, though rising smoke trails show the fire still burns.

Tom: It was a good decision coming with me. Even guarded by one of my guys, I couldn't promise you safety out in the fields. Things have gotten worse.

You confess you made a deal with a white face that transformed you into what you are now.

Tom: Doesn't make you suspicious. Makes you an idiot.

He shares the same opinion you had. You look up and catch him watching you with his good eye.

Tom: But even if I don't know your story, I know The Right takes advantage of desperate souls. It took what it wanted, could've taken more and left you with nothing.

You want to try helping, even though doing exactly this brought you so much suffering before.

Tom: Everything adds up toward easing suffering in this world, even a sandwich.

...
They spy from the wheat field. Ahead is the entrance to the village of Malta, surrounded by a wooden palisade. Now the threshold is guarded by four dirty and surly-looking mercenaries, focused on sharing a bottle of rum. You draw an arrow and nock your bow, it takes you a couple of tries to draw it, but just as you're ready Tom extends his arm in front of you and tells you to wait. Whistles sound like steel cutting over your head almost immediately.

The tilted bottle bursts and the arrow buries itself in the throat of one man, who collapses with his lips spewing gurgles. The three remaining are paralyzed by surprise, the one on the right is felled by an arrow to the temple and the one on the right collapses from an arrow that destroys his eye and brain. The fourth reacts and raises a rifle, he has a helmet and vest. An arrow hits the helmet and the projectile falls to the ground, a second hits the same spot and gets stuck without penetrating, a third splits the wood of its predecessor in two and remains anchored in the same place, the next arrow repeats the spot, splits the helmet like a melon and knocks the outlaw down without killing him. Four more arrows fall and pin the sleeves of his shirt and the hem of his pants to the ground.

Hooded shadows emerge from the wheat and immediately one of the figures straddles the guy, wielding a curved dagger and pressing it against the man's neck. You don't hear the words they share, but you do hear the shriek of blood as the blade slashes the mercenary's neck, spraying the snow. The archer stands up, moving quickly and silently she plants herself in front of you, it's the same one as before, her pretty face is splattered with blood, but she doesn't flinch.

??? (Archer): Most are gathered in the center of the village, in a place you humans call the town hall. They are preparing for the executions.

Tom: Executions. They want to make it absolutely clear that power has changed hands.
The archer nods.

??? (Archer): We will help the one-eyed man clean up so he can defeat the traitor.

The archer retreats and joins the other hooded shadows to climb the palisade and disappear to the other side.

Tom: I don't understand why they didn't just use the door.

They leave one of the chefs guarding the village entrance, while you make your way through the deserted alleys towards the center. The fire and smoke rising in the distance give the atmosphere a twilight hue and turn the snow into water. From time to time, you find men and women with arrows lodged in their chests and heads. No enemy alarm is heard; the lethality of the archers keeps the night silent. For now, you haven't had a chance to shoot your bow, your hands stiffen from drawing the string without releasing it.

But the archers are not the only architects of death; you also find farmers and good people shot down, houses burned, windows with shattered glass, and an old dog with its head mashed, possibly by a boot. Your stomach churns; at some point, your feminine sensitivity prevents you from walking any further. Tom stops when he notices you're feeling down, turns back to where you are, kneels, and places a hand on your small shoulder.

Tom: Life is like lentils, you either take it or leave it.

You recognize those words, they resonate within you ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gxTNGs7nhVM )

Tom: I don't like lentils, but sometimes there's no other option but to eat them.

The snow crunches are heard.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=diKcaqRwuss
All three turn their gaze towards the ruins of a burned house. Among the ashes and the miasma of tragedy, a deformed and swollen body appears as if its muscles were filled with pus, with strips of dark skin peeling off its four arms and four legs, and a jaw composed of a pair of large, sharp chelicerae. Both Tom and the chef take a step back, as if understanding by divine providence that this is not their business. As the creature advances a bit, its multiple black pearl-like eyes focus entirely on you; as it growls, it reflects absolute hostility, as if it were impossible for both of you to coexist in this world.
--Marcos the half-spider
HP: 180/180
-Strength: 10
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 12
Traits:
-Attacks 4 times per turn.

Tom: That thing has a resemblance to you, Maria Isabel. Almost as if it were the shadow you need to defeat and incorporate, in order to have the chance to achieve a full life. I know because it happened to me many years ago... Except I couldn't incorporate my shadow and the last I heard, it got two degrees, one in law and another in medicine.

Your old body possesses a monstrosity that distances it from any kind of studies, it's a wreck of frustration and instincts that may never be satisfied. How could you, a little girl, defeat it without help? In fact, you can't and that's precisely what you glimpsed, like the vision in the field, only in this glimpse Marcos's jaws were splitting you in half. In that mirage of a possible future, you were without your coat, you took it off to gain more mobility.

The sack the chef drags shakes, the partygoer lifts it without understanding, and opens his mouth in surprise as he sees the linen tear, dropping a handful of beetroots and also what remains of the shattered body of a robot child that... Moves?

Flame, with his eyes dimly lit thanks to his reserve energy tank, doesn't take too long to scan the environment, but rather extends an arm to the first enemy he detects and fires a destructive stream.

--Marcos the half-spider (Ignited)
HP: 80/180
-Strength: 10 + 1d50 = 37
-Agility: 10 + 1d50 = 8
-Endurance: 12
Traits:
-Attacks 4 times per turn.

The entity lets out a visceral shriek as flames engulf it. But the fire doesn't finish off the half-spider, and with the fire consuming its body, it runs towards you to annihilate you.
Rolero Aventurine-55846e No.5792 es
ff3699072cde71a09e2810f0ed1a807c3fa4c4340cae0ed3ea68bfdd87b7df91.webp
21 KB 480×270
2ca1ea4d62ddb7b097105212b1e56a796c06e2a9f4a8dbd12ac6e06d0092ebb8.jpg
44 KB 686×386
39d82a0053b6e7d4c1be1200e2e5585b16e8545ed217908b388c17673750b1da.jpg
129 KB 850×601
be6bfe52a3135fb81cea5e4a880bb4c56b01ce7daf4985cc40595c9d44f28c5b.webp
30 KB 695×480
978f9ad0caebe1d3e84a6efe1298f0ced337b903e82270b6a52a2fa2fe7b631f.png
0 KB 48×48
>>5783
<Rando Roadagain (Day 36, hour 7)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 50/50
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 8 + 16 Ghasto (+1 extra attack)
-Agility: 7 + 15 Ghasto
-Stamina: 7 + 5 Purple Sweater
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8
-Trainings
Strength: 8 (1/10) - Agility: 7 (1/10) - Stamina: 7 (1/10)

Level 10
Marietta: It's called a puzzle. They're called that because they're really hard, and trying to solve them breaks you...

She looks to the sides.

Marietta: Your head.

She leans forward, hand near her lips as if whispering a secret.

Marietta: Metaphorically speaking.

She straightens her back in the chair, returns her attention to the table, presses a piece with her index finger and slides it into place with another. Joins the connections and gradually forms the flat image of a hallway with lights and yellowish walls. It's not a game that can be finished in a day. Rando heads toward the door; Marietta watches him from the corner of her eye and sees him leave. The girl lets out a sigh before turning her gaze toward the fat cat.

Marietta: You're supposed to be his friend, you should help him improve his speech. Maybe if you weren't so condescending, he'd have more confidence in himself.

Outside, it's cold like every day; the purple sweater Rando wears helps him endure it. He reaches the stone well attached to the farm and peers into its darkness. If he leans in far enough, he could swear the little stones around the edge, protruding just a couple of centimeters above the dimness, are curved teeth like those of humans. Rando uses the pulley rope to lower a wooden bucket into the well and then pulls it back up, brimming with clear, clean water—but with bits of warm flesh floating in it.

He'd need a lamp or a light source to investigate the depths of the well.

Rando returns to the farm. Marietta would be waiting seated in the dining room, the puzzle still half-finished and a children's book in her hands. She claims she found it in the children's room—the place where Marietta has been sleeping alone.
Marietta: I'd like you to read it to me out loud. It would help me fall asleep.

Ten days passed. Ghasto was no longer obese, and supplies continued to dwindle.

Refrigerator:
x2 Almond milk bottle
x1 Gluff leg
x5 Gluff fillets
x1 Neapolitan ice cream

Pantry:
x1 Almond oil bottle
x1 Fish crackers
x1 Pack of Bimbo bread
x2 Canned tuna
x1 Jar of moth jelly
x1 Set of kitchen utensils
x1 Set of cooking pans

The basement remained dark, with white eels writhing inside, while the miasma from the rotting dead heart kept building up in the adjacent stable; meanwhile, the wall of gray matter remained an impenetrable barrier.

Rando felt his body a bit stronger from working the fields, and Marietta asked him if he was ready to try leaving.

One of the many nights they spent there, Rando was woken by the sound of jingling bells. He sat up on the double bed, looked out the window, and swore he heard the hooves of draft animals fading into the distance. Through the glass, he made out the shadow of a cart for a few seconds before it vanished. When he went downstairs and reached the main floor, he found Marietta peering out the exterior door, wearing her light sleepwear, holding an emerald-colored pot in her hands. The girl smiles and lifts the object.

Marietta: A kind merchant came and left. I traded all my water bottles for this pot. Isn't it lovely?

She also got a sack of winter seeds and left it by the door for you. Shame you don't have the necessary farming tools to grow them.

Dawn breaks. Time to decide what to do. The pot of greed now takes up space on the kitchen floor.

...

>Was there electricity while the house was dead?
There is.

>+10
Ghasto's bonus. He gains it by eating bodies.
Ashley/Catherine Scapolite-78c6ac No.5793 es
f87065254fb80bf124058fbbc9f5dc4ea11aa3ed552e485f1e2f940f85b6f5ec.gif
905 KB 800×1000
>>5787
>Ashley
Her main doubt must be satisfied. Nature, which was a large part of what formed Ashley, was not lying. She said it, but she was raised alongside lies, and the innate plays tied with the acquired, to the point where lying feels as natural as ever. With that blank stare, and that monotonous voice... which is not enough to convince today, anyway.

<To me it is white.

"..." -indeed, it is-

White and pure, she is like that from her toes to the highest hair on her crown. Her appearance has advantages; in the snow, she becomes one more snowflake, blending in like an arctic fox... but nowadays, the real advantage was that they enchanted Hilda, like peacock feathers, to court her. Catherine didn't see it that way, but it did make her happy that her hair, a precious inheritance, was to Hilda's liking. The moments when she hugged and kissed her hair made her happy, and made her want to hug and rub against her like a kitten.

Perhaps she was the one who ended up enchanted in those exchanges.

<Tonight you will be able to sleep soundly.

"..." -her eyes separate from her fingers, which were acting as a comb, and find Charmy again, something in her voice sounded out of place, enough for Ashley to be surprised, not enough for her to deduce exactly what-

<We have plenty of beds in the attic.

"!"

A groan. Muffled by her closed lips, but audible enough for someone as close as the leader is. Cat's head snaps up, looking like a startle, as that gesture is loaded with it. She tried to maintain her composure, when her lips opened too quickly, she slowed down to avoid stammering. She let out a bit of air, inaudible, and closed them. And after a breath, she replied.

"I have no interest in that."

She said, believing she hadn't failed entirely in seeming unperturbed. But most likely, someone as astute as Charmy would see through her mask with ease.

She doesn't want to. She doesn't want to lose that warmth, or those arms that embrace her. Her warrior, whom she loves, makes her feel loved and even did so before she knew what love was or how to love. With whom she wants to connect, and help in an almost symbiotic way.
<Actually no. Hilda is a girl with whom subtleties end badly.

And so it was decided.

"Then I'll learn with her."

Again. She has already learned a lot with her. Even if Hilda hasn't studied like her, and maybe even today doesn't value erudite knowledge, walking hand in hand with her left her with learnings she couldn't imagine.

Reasons to carry her mark in her heart pile up. And when they hear together that a goodbye is foretold, the windows of her soul fog up, and her fingers, not belonging to the one she longs for, don't wipe away the tears that threaten to fall.

<I've never lost one of my children and I don't plan on starting now. Come on, wipe your tears. Your friend will be here to pick you up soon, that much is 100% certain.

"...I'm not crying."

She says, and looks up. It was true. Her huge eyes sparkled and reflected everything, a mirrored, undulating world like the one you see in a puddle. Her nose also twitched, slightly but quickly with audible sniffs. Catherine doesn't cry in front of people, even if she was on the verge... she holds back her tears until she says goodbye to Charmy.

Once the door closed...

"Mbha"

She made a sound difficult to describe, releasing the tears she had held back. She sobbed quietly, sniffled, wiped her face with her hands as best she could. She couldn't let herself be seen so weak... She dried her left eye, and that made her notice an artifact of great interest to her right.

Hilda's sword... Which she would end up taking without thinking much after her whimpering.
BOOM. Explained. Kek

Time passed, and one night among many, she found herself facing a human obstacle. Zero interest versus immense interest, playing for the first team she leaned to one side, and the moon followed her like so many nights watching the horizon. She leaned to the other, and found her face shortly after. Catherine took an agile step to the side, and she took several that left her in her path. Again, to one side, the green-eyed one moved as fast as a butterfly, and so they were in a dance, the fairy and the moon. Until the long-haired one cut it short with stillness and a look of annoyance.
"..."

She was about to push her aside. When the other one spoke to her.

<It's dangerous to go alone, take this.

That didn't remove the annoyed look from her face, but it at least postponed the push. An outstretched arm awaited another, and curiosity got the better of her, enough to twist it. She slowly opened her palm, and it was adorned with a small pile of sand. The recipient didn't take long to look slightly confused.

"Salt?" -she considers herself capable of distinguishing salt from sugar-

<They are the three fundamental principles of alchemy.

"And?"

Alchemy, a word with 'A', according to the encyclopedia was a kind of ancient knowledge used to transform things. She remembers that, and it's of little use in connecting the dots here.

<Carrying a gram of salt in your pockets will safeguard you. I bet you already feel heavier.

"..."

So the leader is talking about her. Strange fact, which Catherine doesn't know how to take. She also doesn't understand the wobbly feet thing, she never said anything like that. Anyway... maybe if Charmy said it, she should take it as advice.

"It's not in my pocket yet." -she doesn't feel heavier. She puts the salt in her pocket-

And now?

"...I guess."

She feels salt in her pocket.

...

That's little more than another memory. But she still feels it today. Just as she feels that love she swore, in another memory as golden as the morning sun's rays, where she felt she lost the day by staying in bed a few more hours. Where she didn't find her company in the first moments and felt confused, looking in all directions.

"Hilda?"

She asked into the air. And as if always responding to her voice, she saw her enter with food through eyes of surprise. They left her a tray, which she looked at with a bewildered face.

"Thanks..."

She said, she didn't know what other words to give her, as she left her speechless. She took a glass of orange juice timidly, and brought it to her face with some slowness.

"I slept too much..."

She missed breakfast. It hadn't happened before. She feels like she lost the day. She drinks some of the juice, as it's always ideal to start the day hydrated.

"Hm..."

She can't taste it the same way. After all, it's as if her nose were blocked. She was going to mention it, but her caregiver, worried. She felt her forehead and seemed overly attentive. The albino was a little surprised by her attitude, her eagerness to see her well. She took her wrist and made their eyes meet as she guided that worried hand to her soft cheek.

"I'm fine..."

She clarified, and tilted her head, rubbing her temple against the hand to receive longed-for caresses.

"I'm fine... I didn't die..." -her hand rises, her palm on the back of Hilda's- "I'm here..."

And then she could eat. And without caring about manners, also run. Free in the forest as she likes. She also discovered the fun of sports, despite her marked reservations after the first kick at the little living ball.

"...Doesn't it hurt?"

They ran among a flock of the cutest animal. The butterfly.

(Though I don't know if they're called that.)

Ignoring that it was her less fortunate cousin, and they soared through the sky, playing like lovebirds pecking happily at the icy flakes that embellished the extensive view.

Ashley laughed. Ashley had fun.

And although that morning, just like her Eladia in the first moments, the golden sun rays she mentioned earlier were absent, the memory resembles gold, culminating in a hug and a kiss under the snowfall in the sky.

It's a nice memory.

She's probably better off enjoying these while she can have them, she's thought. Because so far she believes Charmy was only trying to calm her down. And she wasn't as good at it as Hilda that night when she declared her love out loud... and confused Hilda.

'Why?' Ashley didn't manage to hear the question. But if she had... even with all her reasons to love... would she have been able to answer it?

1/3
Ashley/Catherine Scapolite-78c6ac No.5794 es
6f38e0f3edd832a47cb144bf8a85fa4f7d95d97f32457742504af69b5b477338.jpg
25 KB 480×480
63cc49fc15be73168a3eaa65b3fc1ebb58eba2b871f2f88a2b17db0bd3fe5e4a.jpg
344 KB 1866×2257
f3d1adb0e8c5429b1bb23c879ea84d72ea8c6b622881b376751563a58467fc09.jpg
43 KB 325×388
>>5788
>Ashley
You could say the memory closed with a flourish. Now it was time to build new ones, and gold is present here too, surrounding them with ostentatious pillars and candelabras, which hold unfathomable secrets for her, like five-star restaurants, and for the average human, like Bigfoot himself.

This situation is Catherine's fault, she didn't know, literally, Bigfoot. Hilda seems to want to shoot herself upon hearing this.

<I should have asked... Why don't I ever do it?

Catherine takes her hands away from her face, taking her wrists, and looks her in the eyes.

"It's okay... I like seeing new animals..."

Hopefully that wouldn't be offensive, she just wanted her to understand that she appreciated the gesture in her own way. In the presence of other people, she remained as discreet as possible. That doesn't mean she doesn't want to pet the little monkey... barely reaching to brush the gold with her fingers...

Gold... again... gold...

<Gold...?

Yes... Golden memories, golden flourish, pillars, candelabras, and golden name tags...

<Nurse, write that down. Maybe we can dig up some logic from so much incoherence.

"?"

She saw. What, it was clear. A gurney. Where, or why, she had no idea. The dark environment, with a torrential rain that would make one think they were frying something on the roof, and lightning that made her jump, amplified in terror by how disoriented she is. She feels oppressed, and she is to the point of madness. Her struggling is what follows futility, and that is desperate. She feels like she's suffocating. She's trapped between these walls just like those worms, but even though she has more of a mind and wants to escape, only they can writhe.

<Is this... a glimpse of lucidity?

Her eyes see in the dim light an unknown figure that does not calm her at all, she thrashes, her chest accelerates from her heart to her lungs. She breathes fast, faster. Did she change levels? What did she do wrong this time? Horror consumes her.

<Catherine, listen to me, this is Doctor Kraepelin speaking. You must come back with us, I repeat, you have to return to the real world.

She hyperventilates, it's the only way she can breathe a little. What is this?

"No...!"

No... No... Everything is wrong. She doesn't want this. She denies, with no control over anything but her eyes, she closes them, denying with fear and overwhelming anguish. She repeats no, because this is not reality. No. She wants the truth. She wants Hilda.

"No...!"

And when she opens her eyes, she is in that restaurant.

"No..."

She repeats, a ghost of her nightmare. Confused, she blinks a little, looks at her hands. None of that was real...
(Am I... becoming like Dad...?)

>all characters are schizophrenics who only imagine everything
I'm gonna burn

Hilda is making noises. Clapping. She looks at her, still out of it, so she can't wholeheartedly respond to that fun imitation that would have probably amused her if she were in the mood.

<OINK! OINK! OINK! What am I?

"A... Seal? No... a walrus."

She guesses.

<That's right, I'm a meatwalrus!

"Ah... That's right..." -she got quite close- "I almost guessed." -though Hilda accepted it anyway-

<And you looked me in the eye. Now you're the meatwalrus!

"Me?" -then she remembers the game- "ah... Uh... well..."

She faces the table. She picks up the knives and puts them in the space between her lips and fangs. She raises her little hands and shows the knives as if they were her typical teeth.

"I have fangs as sharp as knives."

Literally.

"Heh..." -she lets out a lonely giggle, she's calming down- "I feel like I'm going to get cut."

She takes them away shortly after. She's in the here and now, she could eventually unload her worries onto Julia. Today she could have a good time with Hilda, leaving her simpler doubts to her.

<Momo has one that Marie gave her, they aren't special.

"I see." -she understands- "they're like... an ornament?" -she supposes-

Soon, the pleasant moment is tainted by undesirable diners. The girls in flashy dresses bother her, normally they wouldn't achieve much more, but they hit buttons that affected her in an unexpected way.

But in the end, the annoyance wins, she was going to show them she was better. She starts by helping Hilda, guiding her as she should when one doesn't know. Starting with her little hands, which she inspects carefully, making sure they are free of wounds, and therefore, ready to be washed.

<And why would I want to wash my hands?

"...so you don't get food on them." -she thinks-

Obviously! In reality, in the forest, it was also more of a secondary thing. They didn't always have something to wash with, so she often had to eat like that with Dad. It's a habit she picked up more here, where water isn't scarce, watching the other girls and ending up imitating them. Ironically, Hilda never picked up such a habit. Cat has gone soft kek

Hilda complies. Half-heartedly, her fingers brush the water, and they dart away as if it were boiling.

<Done.

Catherine isn't convinced.

"That's not how you wash them... I can guide you." -She has accepted that role now. She will teach her to do things right-
<Alright, but I'll only do it because you're asking.

"Okay..."

Hilda puts her hands in, Cat's follow, and they take care of her. She cleans and scrubs carefully, taking a good few seconds, not rushing at all, because to teach you have to go slow.

"Like this... See...?"

Hopefully that would work. Then, they take out and dry their little hands with the tablecloth. They are now officially refined. They just need food.

<Hot dogs!

"..." -blinks a little- "Dogs?"

I mean... she's not against it. She's never done it, but she understands that if the situation calls for it, any meat will do. But... to ask for dog with as much longing as you ask for fish? It strikes her as odd.

(Will it be tasty...?)

What she's clear on is that she sees puppies more as friends than as food. They always accompany police officers, or seem friendly even if they're wild...

It makes her wonder, what other animal would Hilda put in the oven. Perhaps a cat? That would be worrying for her. Perhaps these monkeys? That would be worrying for them. Probably, looking at them, even with their giant eyes, it doesn't seem like many thoughts are going on behind them. Just like they don't seem to pack much of a bite despite those sharp teeth.

They seem calm for now at least. Enough to bring fish.

<And make sure it's cooked!

Of course. The albino nods her head, and hears the collective gasp that makes her look up, surprised. This time she doesn't understand the reactions and after a slightly annoyed glance, returns to Hilda, who proceeds to sit down.

<Dark once took me to the geek tunnel and they gave us uncooked fish, as if we were stupid enough to eat that.

"..." -she's surprised, clutches her arm uncomfortably- "Is that stupid...?" -she asks, lowering her gaze slightly- "...what if you have no choice...?" -she sounds sad-

Then, the food arrives. First they leave them a beautiful... object, which has sugar inside.

(Sugar bowl)

And then... Buns with meat. A kind of solid, cylindrical minced meat sandwich.

(Meat...)

She classifies it, doubtfully, but between meat and fish, it was closer to the former.

<Hot dogs!

"Oh?"

Hilda bites, eats like Cat. Voraciously, quickly. Enjoying what little she can with each hurried bite. She looks happy.

<It's de-licious.

"Hm..."

Catherine looks interested. In the background, they look horrified. One fainted or something.

(...weak.)

But perhaps that proves one thing, that Catherine finally asks, looking at the girl she loves.

"Is it made of dog?"

>>5789
Her own was less difficult to recognize. The fish was made of fish, the meat... well, that one had to guess. But it wasn't dog, for that there was Cat, eating like crazy. Manners are forgotten, chewing by hand, inviting Hilda to share from hers like that too.

And somehow, between the two of them, they managed to finish the entire menu.

"Ahh..."

She feels like she's eaten enough that if she tried to fit a chicken leg, it would be blocked by a fillet in her throat. She's full, more than that. Now she would tell Look that she feels a bit heavier.

burp -she lets out a cute, small burp, perhaps due to her stealthy nature-

She looks at Hilda, who laughs. Catherine too, an adorable little giggle, which stops when the blue-haired girl burps. Loudly, like a small roar. The albino looks surprised.

":o..." -Like that-

Then she closes her little eyes and laughs again.

After the meal, there's no bill. Luckily. It's so easy to get food here, there aren't even people. Better for Cat, as having many people would have made everything more awkward, but the doubt of why remains.

Now they had a room to go to. Catherine accompanied her, looking at everything, so new... So big. 6015 is where they are staying. It took something to reach it. But they are already inside.

And inside is... like everything else. Laden with ornaments to the point of being a little disconcerting for the girl from the forest.

<This isn't very rocky.

"No. It's... citified."

Citified: belonging or relating to a city. It's something distant for Catherine. She's from the forest, and if you push her, from the countryside, as she's gotten used to it. City life still seems to be too much for her.

Hilda, more accustomed, goes to see the view. Finding a snowy landscape, the girl accompanies her... at the perfect moment to spot a strange thing on the horizon. Ashley frowns, rubs her eyes... and it's still there.

"What is that...?"

<I don't know...

"..."

She doesn't know if she should worry. Hilda moves away, so maybe not... Catherine moves away too, but gives the creature behind her one last look. When she turns back, Hilda was already wandering, and Cat quickens her pace to look too.

A bed, she'd never seen one so big. Hilda jumps and dives into its softness, and Cat looks at the rest of the place. The closet catches her eye, the girl goes and opens what's closed. Finding a row of dresses.

Catherine's mouth fell open at the variety, the color, the style. And she touched her chest at the sensations that remained from the minutes at that table.

And she was closer than ever to answering... what she would look like in one of those dresses.

2/3
Ashley/Catherine Scapolite-78c6ac No.5795 es
spoiler
147 KB 816×1280 spoiler
>>5790
>Ashley
The place shouldn't have had much to see, but what was there did take some processing. A tub, that's something she'd never seen before, crawling, Catherine peeked inside to find little more than a drain. Slithering like a snake, she dropped inside, to end up on her back looking at the mirror above her.

"What is this...?"

She looks back, there's the faucet she hadn't paid attention to... it looks like some kind of water container. Kneeling, she peeked out and looked to the sides.

"HILDA!"

A rare occasion of Catherine shouting. She calls out, and hides, crouching down. She'd be silent, and use the sound of the blue girl's footsteps... and if it works, the mirror above her to estimate her position. Once she was close enough, she'd show that she hadn't lost her bad habits and would suddenly lunge out with clawed hands.

"ROOAR!"

Growling, to scare her like so many other times.

"Did I scare you?"

She asks... She'd manage it someday.

Then, the table. It's a table, Catherine respects it as such and doesn't use it as a toy, but she silently acknowledges that it's an interesting object for its size. Just like that huge flat screen that was apparently a television.

"Is that a TV...?"

Catherine is confused. TVs for her are a very fat cube displayed in some shop windows, or another, which she's more familiar with, which is much smaller because it's portable. The one that men use at the men's camp, and her father considers a noisy and useless object.

"..."

It can't be. Catherine touches it, experiencing an overload seeing such a psychedelic animated musical, the song stuns her, and the visuals hit her when she can't even lift her arms. She's left open-mouthed, she wags her tail, barely, but she does. Almost by reflex.

"Uh..." -she shakes her head and presses the button, it's too much for her-

(Little monkey...)

She watches for a second, the second program doesn't last long, and it's profane.

(Jesus...)
It's not that the insult alarms her, it just mentions the most well-known human. Her connection to the bible is rather minimal, she has no idea of the lord's history, so this dilemma is indecipherable to her. She changes.

And more monkeys. Cat blinks a couple of times... But this scene is somewhat hypnotic. She grasps the message as it unfolds before her eyes, almost glued to the glass. The first revelation of the world.

(Bone... skull... Kill...)

It sounds creepy, but she's synthesizing what she sees in the same way the little monkey is. Then, Hilda peeks in.

<Hey, what are you doing?

"?" -she turns her head- "...I don't know..." -she gives the TV a glance- "this is weird..."

<Let's go for a walk.

She looks at her. She nods her head.

"Okay."

The girl turns off the television, becoming free. kek Cat isn't Marie to have funny reactions to varied programs and heads for the exit, but Hilda takes her hand.

"Huh? Aren't we going for a walk...?"

She asked as she walked, guided by Hilda's hand, who dragged her to the bedroom. Confused, Ashley watched the other open a path to the bed. She got in without a word, leaving the other outside, and crawled to the picture to touch it.

"...Hilda...?"

She could use some context. But it came naturally once the blue-haired girl went through the wall. Cat jumped and got into bed to see better... but... there didn't seem to be a real problem.

"Hilda...?"

She speaks to her, trying to see if she can hear her. It doesn't seem to be the case. Soon, she's trapped. Catherine almost gets kicked, she has to move away when Hilda kicks. It becomes clear she needs a hand.

"..."

She gets on the bed again, approaches carefully... Crawling until she's on one side, and speaks to the pair of legs..

"Don't hit me."

She asks, and positions herself behind her, praying not to get hit. Her fingers land on the girl's little butt. Soft, yes. But Catherine didn't come to compare asses or take advantage in perverse ways she doesn't even understand anyway. She pushes without thinking much.
"Wah!"

And both of them pass through the frame.

"Uh...?"

Her little eyes slowly opened, and due to the brightness, it was hard to keep them that way. She put her hand in front of her to cast a shadow, and saw a beautiful sky that, at the same time, left her bewildered.

"?!

She sat up, and with a gaze paralyzed in astonishment, looked here and there, and found herself in a dreamlike meadow, where all the beautiful flowers she could imagine or name coexist.

"Woah..."

She murmured, amazed. And with that expression, she looked at the girl who brought her here. Beautiful, like an idealized portrait she herself would paint of Hilda if her hands were capable.

She doesn't even get to say a word before the girl asks her to look elsewhere. She forms half a word before just accepting, and sees the bliss spread in the form of a green so vibrant that it captures her, and invites her to run, and to be herself in a way she perhaps never could. Once again, they call to her with that voice, the only one capable of pulling her out of such a trance to turn and see something more beautiful in her hands.

Unexpected. A precious flower crown that surprises her and leaves her verbally speechless.

"Did you... make it?"

How many hidden talents did Hilda have?

<They aren't like the other one, they won't make you feel bad.

"..."

She smiles and crouches down to her. The flowers are placed on her like the first crown of a forest princess. And although she can't see it... she knows. She raises her gaze, and smiles at her with her heart pounding with joy.

"Thank you... it's... beautiful..."

That's what she feels. And then, they offer her a hand, which despite doing it slowly, she never hesitated to take.

She ran accompanied, smiling in freedom, enjoying the sigh of bliss that took her away from all evil. Happy as in the most beautiful of her dreams, she took Hilda's hands with the fervent desire for union and spun with her amidst laughter with the flowers as witnesses.

"Hahaha..."

She felt fulfilled. They let her go, and she continued as if she belonged. Running, jumping, playfully restless with the grace of a fairy. Because today more than ever she felt like a bird. And with a spin, in which she made her long hair swirl around her like a beautiful rhythmic gymnastics spiral, she laughed like a goldfinch bathing in the sun.
"Haha..."

She laughs a little more... And calms down. She turns, looking for Hilda until she finds her, several meters away. She smiled at her... and looked towards her bag, which she dragged even now.

"Hilda..."

She said, and looked up without losing the small smile that could only be born in the most special moments.

"I want you to... look away too."

She asked. It was her turn to surprise her. She waited for the girl to comply, and then, Catherine let the sun's rays bathe her skin as she undressed -except for her panties- and crouched down to open the bag, which held a single object.

She took it out, and as best she could, she got inside that ostentatious sunflower yellow garment. With gloves and all.

https://youtu.be/TK1Ij_-mank?si=0VqwhCz7ngcFBCs3
It took her a second.

After dressing, she took a deep breath, filling herself with the precious air to gain courage... and sighed.

She walked forward... And tripped. She had to wave her arms and balance well to avoid falling. She sighed quickly in fright, and then, she took the folds of the enormous garment so it wouldn't happen again.

When she was only two meters away, she stopped to adjust the collar of the garment, as it bothered her how suffocating it could be... and, after swallowing saliva... she dared.

"Hilda..." Spoiler alert I guess kek

Once she turned around, Catherine cringed a little from embarrassment. This dress... was so silly... She wasn't a princess... but she was dressed like this... not because she wanted to... but because there was something else on her mind that overcame the discomfort, the embarrassment, the annoyance, or any feeling. Something that made her look up and ask, with some concern on that face that now, next to her, could hide no emotion...

"Am I... pretty?" -Maybe like this?-

In Hilda's hands hangs Catherine's heart. It becomes clear when you know that something like this would have mattered zero to her before her.

3/3
Rangato Powellite-a4d0ba No.5796 es
d014ffcd945c2bf22d29005e17953e0641a018df6fd604d9b5c0d94022f99fdf.jpg
73 KB 640×480
spoiler
18 KB 560×274 spoiler
>>5792
Marietta and Rando spend some quality time racking their brains together to assemble the image that the muscle-bound guy vaguely recognizes but doesn't dwell on. After a few moments of head-tilting, piece-fiddling, and several consecutive "hmmms," Rando goes to see what's up with the skeletons, to which both the cat and the girl look at him...

[Friends? I believe there has been a mistake here, little Marietta. Your esteemed companion is not a "friend" to me, as I am unfamiliar with the concept of friendship...]

It begins, and probably something you don't know about him, apart from the thousands of things about the nature of his being, is that his mentality also differs greatly from the normal and accepted values of humans... Even though he can understand and imitate them...

[Our relationship is one of protected and protector. My only connection to him is the nobility of my mistress, who, in her infinite mercy, asked me to help him get out of here...]

Both could have a very entertaining and fraternal dynamic in his eyes, but Rando is still somewhat similar to a stray animal to him, an animal that his daughter asked him to take to a shelter or something because she felt sorry for it. This doesn't negate the fact that the situation they are in now is his fault, but being so sexy is not something he can control.

[As soon as I get out, or die, I will be free to go wherever I want, which will be to reclaim my place as my mistress's advisor from the hands of that dirty double of mine, like a Spartan warrior...]

Because there can only be one who takes care of Nyarla, even though there hasn't been just one Ghast since they first met, all the others chose to claim that deserved position by her side for which there is only one vacancy... And whoever loses, well... They wouldn't have fulfilled their role properly anyway.

[Oh, what I do for love... In any case, sweet Marietta, I would say that the only being even similar to that concept for him here is... You yourself... You are his only friend...]

The cat says it without shame or guilt. Rando is more of a nuisance to him than a bond, as the only thing that matters to him is being with his mistress, taking care of her, and being useful to her. As for Marietta, well, he knows what she is, and as such, he must also help her, although he does see her as a "person."

Rando, upon returning with the water, realizes that she hasn't finished the puzzle yet; after all, the pieces are very small. But he has something else in his hands... A somewhat suspicious-looking storybook.

[But look what we have here, the Frog Princess... I remember reading it to my mistress on many occasions. If you wish, I can reinvent my skill as a storyteller.]

A nice gesture, considering that Rando barely knows how to read, which is easy to guess since he barely knows how to speak. If they want it to be at least a cozy experience and not get tired of it, they need the round cat... So they settle into the children's room all together because Rando doesn't intend to sleep alone, but with her.

And it begins...

https://youtu.be/ggx2yb_iwSc
''In a village of mist and cold,
where the river sings to the sun,
was born the frog princess,
a flower without a heart.''

''She was born of ancient blood,
hair yellow as wheat,
sky-blue eyes that, in intrigue,
burn red at punishment.''

''They say that when she clenched her fists
she whispered to the wetland,
and they came, as in dreams,
green frogs from the stream.''

''Gamakichi puffed out his chest,
Gamatatsu laughed faithfully,
but her gift, still ill-fated,
was as fragile as her skin.''

''She grew bitter and without tenderness,
for her sister and her home,
mother and father: only shadows;
she, unwilling to accept it.''

''Bread abounds and a full table
of gazes to care for,
she was balm in sorrow,
for the eldest must be called.''

''But one day, without warning,
another radiance arrived in town,
blond faces, smooth gestures,
and covered in resentment.''

''Light in her smile,
Wrath in her heart;
no one knew what deity
dictated their accusation.''

''“Come to me!”, she shouted at the ground
with a tremor in her prayer;
mud leaped from her hand,
the great invocation thundered.''

''But hate is a clumsy sword
when it doesn't yet know how to wound;
against organized fury
nothing could resist.''

''To give them a short wait,
she mocked with a bold gesture,
she offered herself as a lure
with a very tenacious smile''

''It was a bloody mistake,
on a night without help;
they tore away her earth and sky,
extinguishing her whole world.''

''No longer blue nor red fire
inhabited her gaze;
the world was left deaf and blind,
completing her torture.''

''They say that pain, if deep,
splits the soul in half;
one falls to the black abyss,
another evades reality.''

''She awoke without her memory,
without her name or roots;
another story in her story,
another happy mask.''

''She no longer knows of swamps
nor of the red awakening;
she only hears, in her hands,
the ancient echo of croaking.''

''And in the village they murmur
when the wind brings moisture:
that the un-tender girl
died in that darkness.''

''Little sister grows and laments
waiting to grow more,
but that achievement is not possible
without sacrifices to expect.''

''Woe to the unfortunate,
No one knows what will happen,
for in winter, always weary
she doesn't care whom she hurts.''

Ghasto closes the book.

[Moving, as good as I remember. My compliments, look, it even has a page with the sound of her screams...]

https://youtu.be/T4EAjfDcYtA
[Aaaah... It reminds me of the hunt... Anyway, good night...]

Rando will have nightmares about that for a while, but luckily he has his purple teddy bear to hug.

...

Time passed and the cat was ready to help again, but one night Rando doesn't feel Marietta by his side, a very bad sign. Going downstairs he finds her in her usual sleepwear, which he assumes was at the house, and a strange pot... He blinks under the mask upon seeing it and knowing that it wasn't the best of ideas.

[I wanted to see that merchant... Why didn't you call me...? Anyway... I'll worry in the morning...]

With that he takes her by the waist, puts her on his shoulder, and takes her back to bed, he was too tired to bother. But when morning finally arrives he looks at the pot for a while, now curious...

[Do you know what it's for...?]

[If you put two things inside it, it will return the fusion of said objects...]

[Were you there when she changed it...?]

[I don't need to sleep, my dear...]

[You could have stopped her...]

[Yes... I could have...]

But he didn't want to. With a description like that, it's hard to know if it will be useful or not, or if that's even what she'll do and they haven't scammed her. But at worst...

[And what fused...? Marietta... Any ideas...?]

He asks since she was the one who changed it, maybe she knows more details. As for the seeds, he doesn't need tools, he has a mutant cat to whom a bit of snow and dirt is no problem... Now they have a reliable food source at least.

[Would you mind?]

[For Glob, reduced to a mere tool, I will complain with feline resources...]

He says but still does it, with only his tail since he doesn't see the need to ruin his claws for such a mundane reason. When finished, Rando covers the garden with dirt again and waters it...

[Now we just have to wait... And while we wait, I think I'll get rid of the eels in the basement, I felt like having seafood... You and Marietta do as you please...]

And the purple-haired girl knows what that means... Yes, more puzzles with a strange closeness that was better not to question.
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5797 es
3309364c476f5e89d022aabaeccb4691c389db5ad89d659f0613ddb6c9b975fe.jpg
75 KB 900×506
f31844495f5a013e23bbd1ee908c5abdbf32169b507067cbfa44629472c00c45.webp
67 KB 500×278
c86935524ff6a70af801d8da7089fdc6033ead8141431670939edbe5112d2827.jpg
25 KB 375×240
>>5784
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 60, Hour 13)
HP: 73/150
Energy: 31/80
Hunger: 27/40 - Thirst: 27/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete + 9mm Pistol (2/7. Damage x2. Safety off)
-Agility: 10
-Stamina: 10
-Luck: 2
Inventory:
-Pockets 0/4
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Body's ultimate self-judgment secret (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it's used).
Effects:
+15 Bleeding

Level 10
In a flash, Smile the slimer appears behind the bloody clown, like a long shadow that overtakes him. Art blinks twice, a cartoonish beep is heard as he does so, he raises his hand and points behind him with his thumb without turning, as if saying with his gestures... "Is he behind me, right?"

Luminescent teeth open from the dark fur and clamp down on the made-up head. The entity shakes the clown as if he were a rag doll, the flesh connecting the neck to the shoulders stretches and bursts. The decapitated body spins and falls against the bus ceiling, producing hysterical shrieks from the occupants.

Hank: Ha... Women.

The Floridian looks at you with a half-smile that disappears instantly, perhaps realizing you are also a woman, or perhaps because of your appearance.

On top of the bus, Art's headless body stands up, but since he has no eyes to see, he ends up tripping and falling over the edge of the vehicle, producing a crunch as he hits the asphalt. He remains inert, but everyone knows it's a trick.

Claus: This is for Olivia!

The pretty-faced youth, tears blurring his vision, runs towards the clown and repeatedly swings a flexible pale club at him, which you quickly recognize as a spine. Claus surely picked it up from... You glance sideways at the open corpse of the woman in the wheelchair, the bloodstain where she lies is amorphous star-shaped.

Art, headless, gets up despite Claus's blows, but Hank shoots him again with a precise shot to the chest, his back hits the side of the bus before he ends up on his side on the ground.
The smiler coughs and doubles over, gagging, sounding like a cat choking on a hairball, but what it vomits is Art's head. After rolling a few meters and coming to a stop, it opens its eyes and begins to tremble and crouch, growing. A reptilian body emerges from the stump, quickly standing upright, ending up looking like a giant cobra with yellow eyes poisoned with malice. It is the triumph of an evil will over visible reality.

Léon jumps and latches onto Art, the snake writhes furiously trying to shake him off, and the Frenchman responds by burying his knife repeatedly against its scales. You decide you will also act, there are no more hands to cut, but you aim the pistol and fire three times without hesitation. Two hit the curvilinear body...

The third one makes the head explode like a balloon. Colorful confetti, like from children's parties, falls on everyone. Léon leaps off the reptilian body and spins as he lands. Art's remains collapse and turn white, losing all pigment, the black giving way to a dull gray, and finally the wind carries it away like dust. Orbs of light rise from where the clown was a second ago, dozens of them, and several of them take on ethereal child-like forms, with ashen faces bathed in sadness but also relief.

The ghost children float a foot above you.

"Thank you all... Now we will rest in peace..."

You hear them say, or it could have perfectly been the sound of the wind, you're not sure. Small wings appear on the backs of the souls, as well as halos above their heads. The deceased children rise to the sky and disappear among the clouds.

"You received 7 experience points!"

It was all over.

The embassy curtains move and a familiar face peeks out.

Francine: Uh, I, I need a little help over here...

She's sweaty and disheveled, and her shoulders are bare.

Francine: There aren't just three heads... upstairs, ahem.

1/2
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5798 es
09aa77e982680a2d187689d59b211bf48fbc12738e7e264794b41870eab9e45b.jpg
4 KB 275×183
spoiler
42 KB 686×386 spoiler
spoiler
199 KB 850×1190 spoiler
>>5797
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 60, Hour 14)
HP: 80/150
Energy: 30/80
Hunger: 26/40 - Thirst: 26/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete + 9mm Pistol (2/7. Damage x2. Safety off)
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 10
-Luck: 2
Inventory:
-Pockets 0/4
Techniques
-Ultra Instinct: Body's own judgment, ultimate secret (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it's used).

Level 10
The road is no longer asphalt, but dirt. The group makes its way with the bus through wheat fields and snowfall, but you can't look out the window, you must remain with your back straight even though the stabbing pains sometimes make you jump. They are mending you.

Rosynini: Just... Don't move. I'm almost done. Handkerchief!

Sue hands her a handkerchief dampened with almond water, the mare grabs it and wipes her forehead with it.

Within a hand's breadth of you is the glitter-pony's snout, its tongue sticking out to one side in an expression of absolute concentration. You scan the interior of the bus with your eyes, and when your gaze catches Hank's or Claus's, they quickly look away. Only Eleanor is shameless enough to stand behind Rosynini and watch the whole process.

Rosynini: The knight jumps over the dragon, grabs the princess, goes down and crosses through the bridge and...

One last prick, one last small jolt. My mouth hurts like hell, but at least I stopped bleeding like a pig. On the floor, you see the dry stains you left when you got on and headed for one of the free seats.

Rosynini: Not bad for someone who doesn't have fingers.

The mare looks at her hooves with pride. She's the only one who knew enough about medicine to help you, or at least her argument was that she took a veterinary course in college. But the question remains... How did you turn out? You glance at Rosynini and she, while wiping her hooves with the handkerchief Sue gave her, nods, understanding your uncertainty.

Rosynini: Since I'm not human, I find it hard to understand your beauty standards, but in my humble opinion... You turned out great! I wish you had more skin to lengthen your jaw, I don't know how you can breathe with such a shooort snout.
Nadjela peeks from the back seats, she barely makes eye contact before her face contorts.

Nadjela: Y-You look-UGH!

She presses her lips together and her cheeks puff out. She hunches over to empty the contents of her stomach, drenching the floor with a thick, whitish, lumpy puddle. Hank is next to approach.

Hank: Let's see, let's see, I don't think-

His eyes widen completely when you face him.

Hank: Eeeeh, you look more... Uuuuh, thin, yes. You're keeping your figure.

You turn your face to Eleanor, only she with her brutal frankness will be direct with you. She seems indifferent.

Eleanor: They're exaggerating.

A small hand tugs at your sleeve. Looking down, you find Sue, she offers you a broken piece of mirror so you can look at yourself. You carefully take the piece of mirror, take a deep breath to gather your courage, and finally open your eyes to find the mess Art the clown made of you.

(Open spoiler 1)

You gasp when you observe the damage you expected, the fruit of your fears...

The illusion fades as your eyes stop being blinded by your catastrophic expectations, and finally land on reality.

(Open spoiler 2)

The suture accentuates the lines of your lips, in a mouth that can now open wider than naturally possible. You are very pale from blood loss, but knowing you received a direct axe blow to the face, it could be much worse. Hank smiles and scratches the back of his neck.

Hank: Eleanor's right, I was exaggerating... You're still beautiful, kid. Just... Don't sue me for saying that. I know how people are these days with these kinds of comments.

Nadjela: Oh, heavens-!

The African-American woman vomits again. Francine goes over, takes her by the braids, and pats her back.

Francine: You shouldn't have had cereal with milk, banana, and honey for breakfast, they don't call it Agent Orange for nothing. Only Sergeant knows how to resist it, his stomach is made of iron.

It was thanks to Francine that they were able to leave the embassy behind without facing the king of the rats, apparently they reached some kind of deal. The point is that they are now driving to a safe place: the town of Malta, where they hope to take refuge and, with luck, survive the snowstorm. The plan is also to warn the ice army authorities, and thus hand over the tremendous responsibility to the law enforcement forces.

2/2
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5799 es
7bea4c727ba8c7546d501f73e096863ef77267be4e17e0ca8942252e304c2ed3.jpg
37 KB 640×480
dbe804e4032e36fec277edce601078b972290449d6ffd381c76663bafb0a3250.jpg
50 KB 600×450
ece143483264a1ff74c6b629d31c62e8b6e2930fa061d496929ff373deef17e0.jpg
182 KB 736×911
>>5786
<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, Hour 9)
HP: 77/100
Energy: 46/50
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 18/20
-Strength: 14x2
-Agility: 13x2 - 5 Diluted Hazmat Suit V2
-Endurance: 14x2 + 10 Diluted Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 3
Inventory
-Pockets 2/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Magnum Revolver (0/6. Damage x3, Priority +2)
Abilities:
Werewolf (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.

Level 11
The wooden boy's hollow eyes wander between Polar and you, he quickly decides which one looks more like Palacios.

Polar: Actually... You both look identical.

There's no room to respond, Radiohead crashes backward into a building and consequently your reality suffers an earthquake, you feel your organs shift and bounce, getting lodged in spaces that are uncomfortable and itchy, but surely it's just a false impression. Polar urges you to snap out of it and flee with the boy. You refuse to abandon him, and grow larger again to strengthen your argument. Polar clicks his tongue.

Polar: If you want to die here, fine! Welcome to the party, no refunds!

You grab the boy by the waist, he's light as a bundle of twigs, and unceremoniously toss him into the building. Junior bounces between the carpet and overturned office furniture, gets up, and looks outside. He watches them as Radiohead gets up and recovers, with every movement increasing the distances.

The stereo giant faces the snow titan. You gather all the pieces of rubble stuck to Radiohead's rubbery skin, and as you look up to locate where to throw, you discover that Polar is practically on top of you already, the snow golem looms over you with arms raised, as threatening as an avalanche.

Radiohead: Mind your eardrums, gentlemen. I have saved in my archives the last thing Beethoven heard.

But the sound is faster than any blizzard. A growing rumble emanates from the speakers.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FWkJ86JqlPA
-Beethoven's Last: Concentrated sonic wave attack. Converts total damage into decibels and multiplies it by each of Radiohead's speaker towers (5), hits all enemies.
Polar drops to the ground and covers her ears with her hands. You follow suit, only to watch the space 20 meters in front of you literally explode. The sound warps the wind into circles that, as they advance and grow, pulverize glass and concrete as if it were dust. Olaf suffers the same fate, bursting, and a considerable fraction of the horde is swept away by the wave of destruction, along with a string of collapsing buildings.

A kilometer-high curtain of dust rises in the silence. A strange calm, almost like a funeral. You cautiously peek over the edge of Radiohead's body. It's impossible to see through the dusty sea, but you're comforted by the absence of any electric blue eyes. High above, the storm continues, but even that seems calmer.

Someone grabs your arm. It's Polar, she pulls you and helps you to your feet. Her eyes are still serious, but also with a hint of relief. She looks at the debris you're clutching to your chest like a stuffed animal and raises an eyebrow.

Polar: This isn't the time to start building a model.

A series of long, elastic roots shoot out from the buildings and wrap around your torso, compressing the hazmat suit. Using you as leverage, the wooden roots retract, and Junior leaps to where you are, nearly stumbling as he lands. He lets go of you and returns the roots from his hands to their original proportions. He's so excited he's doing little hops.

Junior: I knew you'd do it! The Palacios brothers are invincible! Wait, stay like that, I have to draw you with Mr. Radio in the background. Where did I put my crayons?

Polar: Since when can you do that-? No, wait. What the hell are you doing here?! You were supposed to flee to a safe place!

The wooden boy flinches at the scolding, lowers his head, and lets out a nervous laugh.

Junior: You said real men don't run, and w-well, I'm a man and-

Polar: You'll be a bonfire if you don't do as you're told!

Polar gives Junior a knuckle-rap on the forehead, not with the intent to harm, but strong enough for him to learn. The boy rubs his head and looks away, seeming dejected by the reception, but not regretting staying to return.

1/2
Rolero Aventurine-55846e No.5800 es
064c6b3c9497e417f989eb87f229a704698c99e44e687f81c2f291fcc11556fa.webp
73 KB 1024×573
aded3b0c2835274e5f32fbedca6bce33e7f39bd28166f714077c99c79acd3c5e.webp
37 KB 400×400
d83dd30b703aa7db1a4b264848d2487340e7aa17e85395ea775848b3c65bfce3.jpg
59 KB 526×526
>>5799
<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, Hour 9)
HP: 77/100
Energy: 46/50
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 18/20
-Strength: 14x2
-Agility: 13x2 - 5 Diluted Hazmat Suit V2
-Endurance: 14x2 + 10 Diluted Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 3
Inventory
-Pockets 2/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Magnum Revolver (0/6. Damage x3, Priority +2)
Abilities:
Werewolf (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.

Level 11
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHX-FKTV8Rk
Radiohead: I regret interrupting your moment of togetherness, gentlemen. It seems the show has yet to lower its curtain.

The warning from the loudspeakers makes them look back, and in turn notice the wind lines that draw the snowflakes towards the dust curtain, as if it were devouring them with increasing insistence. Polar's hair moves, as do the folds of your belly. The event goes from a breeze to a blizzard, you have to dig your heels in to avoid losing your balance. Polar grabs Junior's arm before the wind takes him, the boy is left extended in the air.

Snow and building debris float and spin at increasing revolutions. At the end of the avenue, a wall of clouds appears, pushing directly towards you, swallowing cars and structures. 500 meters, 300, 100, 50... The sea of frost gives you a push and detaches you from Radiohead's shoulder. It feels like being shaken by a billion needles. You don't fly far, you hit a Radiohead loudspeaker and land with your belly on his shoulder again.

You can barely keep your eyes open even under the protection of the hazmat visor. Your world is now a horizontal waterfall of fog and snow, isolating your senses and preventing you from locating the others. You look up, a tube of clouds towards the sky is the only clear thing you manage to spot, but at the end there is no paradise, but a center that shines with yellows and scarlets forming an eye of evil that extends into the future.

--Hurricane Olaf
HP: 500/500
-Strength: 0
-Agility: 50
-Endurance: 0
Traits:
-Agility is added to his damage dice
-Sacrifices white-walkers to increase his attack and agility (Maximum 100)

But there is not only the future, through the fog you manage to glimpse -like blurry images- British cities in the industrial era, Spanish cities in the age of maritime discovery, anti-diluvian ones with decapitated pyramids where children are sacrificed to appease the wind, and brilliant metropolises built long after your century, all with flooded streets and hollow, dark windows. Television lights also appear, hundreds of newscasts denouncing the disaster. Katrina, Milton, Jeanne, Pauline, a thousand names and forecasts in a hundred different languages. But in all of them you recognized Olaf's same face.

But beyond the repeated appearances of the apostle/herald, your gaze falls on the reflection of a contemporary city battered by rain. Those buildings, that obelisk... It's Buenos Aires! Just 8 meters to your left, amidst the wind, like a portal waiting for you to jump through. A gut feeling like a dagger makes you understand that -like the other visions- it won't be there for long.

You look ahead. Through the breeze, countless blue gazes are lighting up. You still can't find Polar and Junior anywhere.

--White-walker Army
HP: 99417/100000
-Strength:
Traits:
-Damage is directed at all characters within range.
-Every time a character is defeated, they recover 100 HP.

You have to choose, stay to face an uncertain fate, or finally escape to your well-known Argentina.

2/2
Marisa Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5801 es
>>5791
>It's a good decision that you came with me. Even protected by one of my guys, I'd have a hard time promising you safety in the fields, the situation has worsened.

"It would have been a better decision to go down more levels before the worm arrived, if you knew it was coming." At least he's still alive and well-fed, so he can't complain too much. "So did you receive my message on level 2, or did you just happen to come up alone?" It's more likely that a smiler ate the crow on the way or they didn't take his crayon-written letter seriously and Tom doesn't know there's a worm and other bigger creatures behind the zombie attacks, but he doesn't have much to lose by asking.

>It doesn't make you suspicious, it makes you an idiot.

He shrugs. It seems fair to him, and it also seems fair to have gotten rid of a curse that even God didn't know how to remove. If this turns out worse in the long run, he'll have to find out anyway.

He thinks he's prepared to shoot to kill without hesitation when the moment to act finally arrives, but every time he tries, his fingers are slower than those of the cryptic supermodels who gave him the bow, taking away the opportunity to test himself and saving him from wasting arrows, or even practicing.

"Hey, I'm sure it's as easy as in the movies. At least my eyesight is better than when I was bigger." A product of not damaging it by playing budokai late at night without light while his brothers and cousins slept. "If you liked hoarding the play so much, you could have bought another controller." That little joystick always breaks too quickly when they have to turn it.

>Executions. They want to make it clear without any doubt that the power has changed hands.

"Ah." He sighs in relief. "Good thing Alondra isn't important or involved in politics." He retracts shortly after, realizing how bad that sounds. "B-but too bad for those who are!" But he's still relieved that no matter what happens, they'll surely have time to rescue practically the only person in town he knows well, the one who keeps him going.

And it's good that he's a reborn asocial person and in all the time he's lived in town, he doesn't know a single one of the villagers lying shot everywhere, otherwise he can imagine how much worse he would feel seeing so many massacred like dogs out there. He still feels pretty bad. It reaches a point where his legs stop trembling and moving altogether, and Tom has to turn back so as not to leave him behind.

>Life is a lentil, you either take it or leave it.

His eyes widen like saucers, assuming saucers open.

"I'd rather not think about lentils right now." He can feel how cold his face is without having to touch it, yet he prefers to have a pale face than a green one, and imagining a plate of anything isn't going to help him keep his guts from churning.

>I don't like lentils, but sometimes there's no choice but to eat them.
"Yeah... My grandma always told me you can't be wasting food. It's a waste." You have to eat whatever's there, you can't be picky or starve yourself when there's food to eat.

A few steps later, he sees something else he doesn't know if it's worse or better than what he's been seeing so far, and he also doesn't know if he's really seeing it or hallucinating from sickness, a curse, or some weird thing in the backrooms, until Tom confirms it for him.

"That thing has a resemblance to you, María Isabel. Almost as if it were the shadow you need to defeat and incorporate, in order to have the chance to achieve a full life. I know because it happened to me many years ago... Only I couldn't incorporate my shadow and the last I heard is that it got two degrees, one in law and another in medicine."

"I don't understand when you're speaking literally or figuratively sometimes." He doesn't want to generalize by saying that people from the backrooms have that tendency, but he thinks it.

He hasn't had adrenaline in his body for a while, only exhaustion from all the effort he made trying to survive tonight; the fatigue and the things he's been seeing have him quite discouraged to have a decisive fight for the fate of his soul or whatever is about to happen.

"Is that me stronger than me?! That's not fair!"

He feels like he has enough evidence that he hasn't progressed at all while taking refuge in the town, so his ability to put numbers on how dangerous the thing trying to kill him is, just rubs salt in the wound. What's worse, it turns out that out of the two, he was also the one who kept the spider-sense, only for it to show him a vision of how he's definitely going to die if he does the first thing that comes to mind and tries to be faster than the spider-man.

"Well..."

He loads another arrow with little enthusiasm, wishing that three more would hit this one from the shadows before he finishes aiming at him, taking his time just to be sure. But it's not arrows that rain down on his other self, but fire.

"Flametower-18K..." He laments a little seeing how the little robot is still trying so hard even though it's so wrecked, but seeing it do so much to save him takes away any excuse he could invent for not trying harder to save himself. "I've never felt like killing myself... But if it's about killing the bad part of myself so only the good part remains or something philosophical like that, I have no problem shooting you!"

He loads one arrow and then another to shoot them both in succession at the monster he became or could have become; if someone is responsible for taking him out of this world, he supposes it must be him.

Strength: 8 + 1d50 = 18
Agility: 5 + 1d50 = 29

I think for extra attacks I don't have to roll the dice again but rather use the same ones for all attacks, but if you can confirm or deny that, I would be grateful.
Otaku con ensoñacion excesiva Cancrinite-24a13b No.5802 es
4fb28863dc730a57a06e3a9d992d79ae6cab841f397766c8fe567b31aa681e83.jpg
774 KB 707×1000
spoiler
190 KB 750×1048 spoiler
>>5797
>>5798
5 points to HP, the last two to raise constitution to 11
>Irene

>She's behind me, right?

Irene is drawn by the strong comedic impulse and must nod while keeping her face as serious and stoic as possible with her jaw hanging.

The clown's body is treated like a rag doll and people are scared, by the clown and not so much by Irene's messed-up face. Claus unleashes a form of revenge worthy of a Seinen manga or volume 15 of the BNH manga, but it's incidental due to his innocence. They turn the clown into a sieve again, and waiting for their turn like in an RPG, it's Irene's turn when he transitions to his second serpentine form, and she takes care of giving him more precise shots, maybe it was rage or lack of oxygen to the brain that made her a better shot like when snipers empty their lungs, be that as it may, her bullets finish off the serpentine Art that bathes them in confetti.

"I th-think I hate cl-clowns..." Momo wouldn't like to hear that

https://youtu.be/xWiXBxb8p8UThe body is carried away by the dust, but something remains even if it's for a few more seconds, the poor souls the clown had claimed.

At least everything had had a purpose beyond violence, Irene can only watch with teary eyes when something like that touches her sensitive fibers and the adrenaline subsides, reminding her of the pain.

Francine also had her own problems... Irene covers Claus's eyes before proceeding to the scene not suitable for children.

...

Luckily, the children's schedule causes the programming to skip that content, and they were on their way to a shelter again.

In the seat of the moving vehicle, they were giving her points to put her jaw back in place, and it was being done by someone without fingers. Irene couldn't complain much, it was that or die bleeding out.

"Thanks Rosy..."

They hand her the mirror, she was prepared for the worst, so much so that for a moment she hallucinates it, the downside of an active imagination, however, it was much better than she would have expected.

"Hey... it's not that bad, Thanks Rosynini!, now I look like a yokai!" Weeb "Although it's hard if I want to open my mouth wide" She should eat smaller bites "...Claus, can I talk to you?" She moves closer to sit next to the amnesiac blonde "¿Can you tell me what happened after I left the drag?, what happened to Donny?"

Also after that she asks another question "¿Francine, do you still have that sphere I gave you to negotiate with?"
Rolero Zoisite-4d1099 No.5803 es
0825bb4e201cfa9607f53dd527cfae02a92b2237b7a20b374858ffc404f1a7c8.jpg
324 KB 1050×1200
>>5793
>>5794
>>5795
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 22. Hour 9)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 49/70
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 5
The storm flashing through the barred window still appears as a burn beneath your eyelids, increasingly blurry and distant, until you stop seeing the asylum when you blink.

Hilda: No what?

Asks the tough girl with cutlery still sticking out of her mouth. If she knew what was going through your mind, she'd worry and the situation would muddy the journey. You prefer to keep it to yourself.

Hilda laughs as you show off your dangerous silver fangs, a light laugh born from the depths of her throat, which makes the little ones raise an eyebrow when they hear it, but you're already used to hearing it.

Hilda: And if the food is already dirty, do I still have to wash them?

She asks sincerely. You guide her hands, squeeze her small fingers and rub the skin, she doesn't look at the bowl but in your direction. When you catch her, Hilda quickly turns her face back to the lemon water, her lips are pursed and her cheeks are flushed crimson, her eyelashes flutter.

Hilda: I'm a weirdo.

Where does that come from?

Hilda: It'll sound a bit silly, but sighs Is it normal for another girl to be the most beautiful thing in the whole world to me?

The blue-haired girl doesn't know what the world is, but dealing with her companions left her with a word or two from Earth.

Time to eat. The monkeys bring a feast and you enjoy it, but Hilda is picky about how the fish is cooked, which for some reason makes you sad. She notices your discomfort like someone seeing a flower closing its bud, she places a hand on yours at the table.

Hilda: If you want to eat cooked fish every day, tell me and I'll sort it out. I'll even bring you The Tiny if you wish!

She affirms, standing on her chair and placing her little fist near her heart. Promising The Tiny in the backrooms is like promising the moon, which ironically is easier to get (Level 21).

Hot dogs! Are they made of dog? Hilda freezes, slowly rolls her eyes at the bun with sausage, rolls her eyes at you, and shrugs.
Hilda: I don't know, but I'm sure it's not dog, or the leader would never have let me try it.

It's neither dog nor that hot, but it's delicious, a capsule of meat that, without being the most nutritious thing, they compensate with its sauces and flavor, as well as with crunchy potato chips.

With an exchange of burps, the feast concludes.

...

The room with its elegant furniture is not rocky, it's urban.

Hilda: Dat-!

Next to you, someone lets out the groan of a strangled chicken. A scarlet-faced Hilda looks at you with wide eyes. She shakes her body, turns her face away, and traces small circles on her right cheek with her index finger.

Hilda: I didn't think it would be you the first to admit it... Heh.

The expedition is just an excuse for a date. Charmy already knew that, but Hilda hadn't referred to the truth out loud until now... Nor had you, actually. The bully is left with the words of the Earth, but there are many that escape her, the complicated ones.

The place has so many nooks and crannies and rooms that for little ones like you it can pass for a palace. With a jump, you enter the golden bathtub and sit at the bottom. Looking up, you find a girl with green, curious eyes watching you from the ceiling. You call Hilda and hide. In the mirror, you glimpse the door opening, and the bully entering and surveying the place. When she's close...

You jump and roar!

Hilda sees you without moving a muscle. When you ask if you scared her, she parts her lips, catching on to where you're going, and brings both hands to her chest. With a groan, the bully slowly collapses until she's resting against the ceramic floor. She fainted!

You get out of your barricade and approach cautiously. You touch her arm, it trembles a little, but the rest of her remains inert. You bring your little face closer, Hilda's mouth snaps open and her tongue jumps out as if pushed by a spring, it stays extended for a couple of seconds and then collapses until it hangs at the side of her mouth. Maybe you went too far?

You lean in a little more and...

Small lips assault you. The peck on your nose is soft, but the surprise is immense, causing you to fall onto your backside. When you look at the fake-fainted girl, you see her lying very calmly on the floor with her face resting on her palm and a smug smile.

You failed to scare her again.

1/?
Rolero Zoisite-4d1099 No.5804 es
74664ef4067a19a08bbcb50f6ed94d6c2d5074d2c08ddb58f344c25d6e168206.jpg
179 KB 750×547
10d0f0c1ce8624768c49b91109c66550bd48fe7e05e7ec4ff234914f15899bc6.jpg
412 KB 1704×1856
81e66d3e8ec0e1918006d1a1f20eaad04fcb20879aa340d1a4d02e5867d734c1.jpg
517 KB 1200×1000
>>5803
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 22. Hour 10)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 48/70
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 19/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar + Flower Crown
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by CH. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of Salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 38.5114
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5hTvc3f83Ws&list=RDDJLhNg6RcWw&index=2Upon your head now rests a crown made from Monet's stitches, courtesy of your dream girl. When you ask if she made it herself, she nods repeatedly.

Hilda: I practiced my knots a lot.

To test it, she invites you to a small demonstration. A tree stump serves as your seat. Hilda, with her hand open towards you, asks you to wait, pulls a piece of rope from her backpack, and lets it hang between her fingers like a limp, long worm. With her tongue sticking out to one side of her mouth in a look of concentration, Hilda teaches you from the Cat's Paw to the Clove Hitch. To impress you, she attempts a difficult one with her eyes closed, only to discover upon opening them that the tips of her hands are tied together.

Hilda: Hehe.

She lets out a nervous chuckle between her teeth. She needs more practice.

They flutter among the painted flowers. Hilda takes your hands and spins with you, a beautiful blue sparrow dancing next to her white fairy. She leads you to a pond that reflects the sky, and you jump among the green lily pads to reach the other bank, the lightness of their hearts seeming to transfer to their bodies.

You have a surprise too. Hilda turns her back to you and covers her face with her palms. You dress quickly, or as a maiden from long ago would say: in a jiffy. Grabbing the folds of your dress, you present yourself to the tomboy and await her reaction expectantly. She turns around saying something, but the words get lost on the way, she gasps with shining eyes upon seeing you.

Her gaze pans from your feet to your face. You don't realize it, but from her perspective, you are framed by a background of pastel colors and glitter. She opens and closes her mouth like a fish, Hilda herself realizes she forgot to speak and quickly straightens up and composes herself. She looks at you with her head down, a small smile, and her hands hidden behind her back.

Hilda: I'm not good with words... I don't know if what I say is enough to describe you either.

She lets out a sigh, but decides to try anyway. She approaches and very carefully, as if you were made of glass, takes one of your little hands and - not knowing why, perhaps she saw it in a movie - drops to one knee and gives you a little kiss on the back of your hand, always maintaining eye contact.

Hilda: You are my friend, my treasure, my companion... And my beloved, the person I love most and the most beautiful girl to infinity and beyond.

Her expression is sweetened by the blush of inexperience in courtship, but also by other sweet sensations that give her confidence in what she says. For her, it's a simple description of reality. Hilda stands up and carries you in her arms like the princess you claimed not to be, although you look, sound, and in your current position, seem 100% like one. With you held tightly to her chest, the tomboy carries you to the next sub-level.

2/3
Rolero Zoisite-4d1099 No.5805 es
1c110c4d72c372fdd10bcf34c3a8ce6cf223a535a20936445bf14413f7a1a8c3.jpg
98 KB 500×396
a9e88f398d7f41246cf9c6b6fb98da92d9d33763d2f61eacdd651c21af95f43a.jpg
248 KB 959×1223
2e418c744a6bc850c43ef9b40f865bf3dcd6f3531a04fbd7a892e2c054e23ba8.webp
141 KB 700×453
25b282268b9a3cee5749ec0d4d92dcc1902fed4a4c0fea2aaa863154629e8990.jpg
675 KB 1334×1600
f94b063a249f54f0591c587ce499df8c0f194b0f97cde61c5bd8ca1f9fa55d0e.webp
49 KB 477×521
>>5804
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 22. Hour 11)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 47/70
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 18/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar + Flower Crown
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 38,556
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DJLhNg6RcWw&list=RDDJLhNg6RcWw&index=1You run through the alleys after an oil cat carrying a human ear in its jaws. You get on all fours (x2 agility) and lunge at the little animal, skidding on your chest. You barely graze its tail, but it escapes with a leap and climbs a wooden beam that leads to a bridge. Hilda points upwards with her finger, helps you up from the ground, and together you reach the bridge. From there, you can see the trails of the night with a half-moon and more than full stars, you also manage to spot black cones that perspective makes pass for both dark pines and a magical castle. But to the point, the cat!

Hilda wants the ear as a souvenir. You resume the chase, zig-zagging between patches that look like people, and in a poorly calculated move you collide with someone's legs. You turn to apologize, in response the entity clutches its bald head and screams, stretching space and deforming you as if something were pulling you by the hair and feet at once. Hilda grabs your arm and pulls you away from the thing by force, you have no time to lose!

...

Level 38,9164550
You sail through a sea of geometric shapes and forms that swell and deflate, merging or separating from others. Hilda handles the sail, steering the boat towards a colorful seaside town. On the way, fish that are barely rhombuses with a triangular tail jump to the rhythm of the waves. Your companion is flat and angular like everything else; when she smiles at you, her mouth is just a curved line. You thought about smiling back, but your spirits sank when you saw a drunkard in the port throwing a bottle at the head of who seemed to be his wife.

Hilda, without hesitation, leaped onto the dock and drew her sword to challenge the scoundrel. She ended up throwing him into the sea with a kick to the solar plexus, and since the drunkard didn't resurface, it's safe to assume he drowned. The town celebrated Hilda getting rid of the drunkard by preparing an immense paella, although you two didn't eat much since you were full (And besides, in that artistic style, the food looked unappetizing).

...

Level 38,3535
Hilda: This way!

You turn around and jump, turning the ceiling into the floor, but Hilda had already disappeared through the tunnel in the cornice.

Hilda: No, here!

She calls you from the staircase at the far left, now 40 meters below. Or was it to your right? Since you're on an upside-down balcony, it's hard to tell.

Next time, you'll choose the place to play tag.

You gather your breath and start chasing Hilda, going up a staircase sideways horizontally. You should fall, but at this level, gravity is really a social construct. You accelerate and close the distance between you and the monochromatic bully. Hilda looks over her shoulder, gasps seeing you so close, but instead of jumping to the ceiling (Or floor?) she keeps advancing until she leaps into a white rectangle of light.

...

Level 38
A big-headed painter was very calmly in the extensive hallway of her immaculate gallery, retouching a Caravaggio with her brush, when:

The Painter: ¡...!

The bully emerges from Escher's work, looks around, and without thinking much, jumps into the next closest painting. You are the next invader to arrive. You didn't manage to spot which painting Hilda went into, but you do notice the painter watching you with her big eyes.

The Painter: ...

Without breaking her silence, the painter points with her brush in the direction of the painting where Hilda entered.

3/3
Palacios Lapis Lazuli-7bfb83 No.5806 es
80ddabf07d28360e80ec3be245005a5e04540c6f63d7f44c69f6b347886b8adb.png
244 KB 480×270
42ec6b8534de2f17efa64305918576b00477706b4f9f6ec929fe00cada8ba471.png
302 KB 520×293
>>5799
>>5800

"¡¡Right on time, huh!!"

He complains with a clean shout, hands over his ears. With all the noise, he can't even hear himself, but the indignation that Radiohead is such an asshole for waiting until this moment to decide to contribute is there. If he had known they were such posers, he wouldn't have done them any favors.

"...Is it over?"

He drops the stones he was clinging to and looks around as the rest arrive. As much as he was all-in on the idea of taking him down, he still can't quite believe it actually happened. He scratches his head, then wipes his eyes, and looks around again to make sure there's really nothing else left.

"Leave the kid alone, if it wasn't today, he would have stood up tomorrow or the day after. Well then... what about what you owed me? At least bring something to drink, right?"

He puts his hand on where he hit Polar and pulls it away immediately. With all the junk here, it's weird the doll didn't try to fight something else before. He has no idea what Pinocchio's life has been like until now, and he doesn't plan to ask. However, he does confront Radiohead and asks him about everything he owes him.

"You and your excuses..."

He snorts, annoyed at Radiohead's response, and then bites his lip as he sees something worse is really coming. Although it's not like he had much time to react to that, as the winds start to toss him around. The Santa Rosa storm had arrived, and unlike all the times he had experienced it, he wasn't in the center of the country to avoid the worst. No, right now he was in the middle of it, taking everything it had to offer.

"..."

As he thinks about that and looks at the storm, not knowing what to do, he catches glimpses. He doesn't quite understand where they're coming from or why the hell he's seeing them. What he does realize is that what he's seeing is real, and among those images was that of his country. He clings as hard as he can to where he is and looks down. Beneath his feet was the image of a destroyed city, belonging to a dimension where he had gained nothing but headaches. Above that, his country, not just this one but countless countries where he had no doubt he would be more at peace than stuck here.

The urge to jump is strong, but at the same time, it occurs to him that this is all a huge scam and that he'll get screwed over big time as soon as he lets go. On the other hand, he's been doing that since he got here and doesn't see many possibilities of finding stability or even safety within this place. Whatever he chose, he'd most likely end up dead, and with that idea, all that was left was to take a chance. A do-or-die with a 1% chance and 99% faith that if he lets go, he can get back to a normal life. So, without thinking any further, he loosens his grip, looks into the eye of the storm, and jumps straight into it, hoping to leave this place.

>>5802
That phantom arm, not even as idol Eiko manages to get out with her arm intact and poor Marie doesn't have her own weeb object to pose with kek.
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5807 es
93e7d065ea1590f84c55ec478be881376c1321949cedbf0876d26e087fce413a.jpg
39 KB 480×360
>>5796
<Rando Roadagain (Day 36, hour 9)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 48/50
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 18/20
-Strength: 8 + 16 Ghasto (+1 extra attack)
-Agility: 7 + 15 Ghasto
-Stamina: 7 + 5 Purple Sweater
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8
-Trainings
Strength: 8 (1/10) - Agility: 7 (1/10) - Stamina: 7 (1/10)

Level 10
The puzzle remains on the table, unfinished. Marietta would fit one piece each passing dawn—perhaps that was her peculiar way of marking days with tally lines.

Rando goes to work, and Ghasto insists he's biologically incapable of having friends.

Marietta: Really? That's sad. I thought you were something like Don Quixote and Sancho Panza—always together, traveling and fighting danger.

He replies without looking at her.

Marietta: I don't know him, I don't know what he likes. I only know he insists on sneaking into my bed.

Which happens that very night, during story time—meant to help Rando improve his diction, but which Ghasto ended up hijacking. There wasn't much space on the child-sized bed; Marietta ended up with her back pressed against the wall, barely able to stretch the blanket to cover herself from the cold. Under the sheets, the girl pushes her knees against Rando's side to claim more room. At first, Von Karma kept her spiral eyes wide open, darting glances between the cat and the man beside her. But as the story progressed, her eyelids grew heavier.

Marietta: Don't you know the one about the hunter and the squirrels?

She interrupts drowsily, followed by a soft yawn. Marietta falls asleep before the end, but she won't forget her own question and suggestion. Leading to the next night, when she's the one reading a story—less poetic, but far more traditional and from her homeland. The illustrated book she pulled from the very same threshold of mystery as Ghasto's tale. The book's cover and back are just a poorly stretched photo of a squirrel. Rando listens from bed, and Marietta forces Ghasto to lie down beside him; she won't start until both are together.

Marietta: This is a love story. It's about a handsome but lonely hunter, strong and deeply familiar with his land. His favorite animals were squirrels—if you don't know them, they're like rats, but cuter. They were his little forest friends. Yet even they couldn't soothe the loneliness in a man's heart...

One day, during a trip to the nearby town, the hunter found a young woman at a bus station and took her back to his cabin, believing this would cure his sorrow. But the woman didn't fill the void, no matter how hard the hunter tried to make their bodies fit together.
Marietta: Even after she died a few weeks after arriving at the cabin, the hunter couldn't find a way to make her perfect. Until one day it occurred to him... Squirrels! Of course! The most beautiful animal to create the most beautiful woman.

The hunter went out into the forest, shot squirrels with his rifle, and upon returning home, stapled them, one by one, to what remained of his muse.

Marietta: The act of love caught the attention of a beautiful maiden. A Von Karma, that's right! Who had moved into that forest a few months prior, changing the length of all shadows with her presence and unique beauty. As she was a discreet woman, she secretly asked the hunter in a dream to finish his work within five days. A sweet misunderstanding occurred, because the hunter thought she was speaking to him, God.

The hunter threw himself into the mission, hunting large and small squirrels, vegetarian and carnivorous, squirrels with fur as black as night and giant squirrels made of pulsating flesh.

Marietta: And with the muse complete, the Von Karma presented herself to the hunter and they both consummated their perfect love. The End.

She closes the book and, with a subtle smile, turns her attention to the bed, awaiting opinions.

...

The merchant's surprise appearance brought a new occupant to the house: The Pot of Greed. Ghasto came up with an interesting theory of how it works, and Marietta proceeded to test it by putting in a gluff steak and a plastic cup. Both items disappeared into the container's blackness, but nothing happened.

Marietta: It's a very greedy jug.

Perhaps they need to add more items to activate it. The Von Karma doesn't know the mechanics, she just bought it because she liked the look.

Marietta: Besides, the kind seller assured me that, according to my horoscope, I needed something green for good luck.

As the field ground was frozen, Rando and Ghasto had to put in effort to break their way through. They prepare the soil, sow the winter seeds, and water them with well water, repeating until the area within the farm's boundaries is covered. They have to tend to the planting every day until something edible grows.

Upon returning to the house, Marietta already has breakfast prepared and is setting the table: Glasses of milk and tuna sandwiches. Although Ghasto has other plans for his snack.

Refrigerator:
x2 Almond milk bottle
x1 Gluff leg
x4 Gluff steaks
x1 Neapolitan ice cream

Cupboards:
x1 Almond oil bottle
x1 Fish crackers
x1 Half a package of Bimbo bread
x1 Canned tuna
x1 Jar of moth jelly
x1 Set of kitchen utensils
x1 Set of kitchen pans

1/2
Rolero Paraíba Bicolor-96f260 No.5808 es
f87104902b34b6c16f175a19e604cb867f19bb236ce96beeeb985b64f9b07491.png
868 KB 1965×3449
174 KB
24d3c4f454455709471cc12f9859d29c8399005b409ecdbdd8ebd43b68d4e94d.webp
142 KB 760×1200
>>5807
<Rando Roadagain (Day 40, Hour 12)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 44/50
Hunger: 14/20 - Thirst: 14/20
-Strength: 8 + 16 Ghasto (+1 extra attack)
-Agility: 7 + 15 Ghasto
-Endurance: 7 + 5 Purple Sweater
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8
-Trainings
Strength: 8 (5/10) - Agility: 7 (5/10) - Endurance: 7 (5/10)

Level 10
Ghasto goes down the stairs, his cat-like gaze allowing him to see in the dark. As he approaches, he hears the whipping of an elongated body against the walls of earth and rock. Upon reaching the bottom, he discovers it wasn't a dozen eels, but a single creature, very long and with movements so erratic that they made it seem like many.

The solitary giant, with its thorny crown and four toothy mouths arranged in a row around the bulb of its head, lunges directly at Ghasto. The cat opens its large jaw and receives the intestinal serpent; the thorns on the bulb get stuck inside its mouth, but after a little sucking, the tip passes through, and it's easy for Ghasto to swallow the length of the parasite, growing in size. The rear end of the solitary disappears into the animal's maw, and with a burp, the snack concludes (+5 for Ghasto). He becomes very fat again.

However, just when everything seemed fine, Ghasto's inflated belly growls and shakes as if something is pushing from inside, causing him multiple sharp pains (-1 for Ghasto). Rando descends the stairs, followed by Marietta. The girl lifts the hems of her skirt after noticing that the basement floor is flooded with ten centimeters of intestinal secretion. Von Karma decides to stay on the stairs, while Rando, being the only man in the house, must get his boots wet to reach the rifle case on the wall. After pulling the lever above the icon of a black lightning bolt inside a yellow rhombus, a rumble is heard in the walls. The light bulbs throughout the house flicker and turn on, finally getting electricity.

The light cheers Marietta up, but it also makes her notice that Ghasto looks unwell.

Marietta: Oh, he's sick...

Maybe they should take him upstairs.

Marietta: No, he'll dirty everything. Leave him down here until he gets over it. Maybe the kind merchant has dewormer.

Von Karma urges Rando to look for items of interest. Among the shelves, he finds field tools (Sickle, hoe, pitchfork for hay, also sacks and a wheelbarrow), and hardware and general utility tools (Hammer, wrench, crowbar, pliers, flashlight, a hand saw). Using the crowbar, Rando opens three wooden crates that were sealed with nails, located at the back of the basement.

The first crate is full of canned goods:
-20 Cans of lentils
-20 Cans of preserved beef
-20 Cans of peaches in syrup
-20 Cans of cooked legumes
-20 Cans of instant soup

The second crate contains dirty clothes. Rando might find something he likes or that matches his style.

The third crate contains weapons:
-2 Magnum Revolvers (0/6)
Function: Damage x3, Priority +2 (1 priority equals 10 agility)
Description: Rotary cylinder firearm with an elongated barrel.
-3 Winchester Rifles (0/15)
Function: Damage x2. Add total agility to damage.
Description: Famous as "the gun that won the West," iconic for its lever-action repeating mechanism.
-5 Machetes
-120 revolver ammunition
-150 rifle ammunition

Four days passed and Ghasto kept getting worse (-4). Marietta stayed awake through the night waiting for the merchant, but he still hadn't shown up.

Until, while Marietta and Rando were talking in the dining room about what to do to help Ghasto, the doorbell rang. Thinking it was the merchant, Marietta got up from her chair and went to the entrance. When she opened the door, a shadow covered her and forced her to look up.

It was a tall man, very tall, with dark skin and wearing a white suit. There was the faint trace of a tribal tattoo on his hard face, but that didn't stop him from removing his hat and offering a courteous smile.

???: Excuse me, my lady.

He spoke some words with a strong Spanglish accent.

???: My name is Nick, Nick Tarragona. A boss around these parts, named Bill, hired me to go protect him in the town of Malta. But with all this snow, I lost my way... At least on this side of the level, there's a bit of sun.

Von Karma peeked outside, looked left and right, then pointed toward the dirt path disappearing beyond the farm. The man nodded, thanked her, and walked away calmly.

Hours passed. Rando finished working the fields and returned for lunch. Upon entering the house, he heard laughter from the dining room—the light, springlike one was Marietta's, but the deep, raspy one he didn't recognize. As he passed by, he saw the stranger from earlier sharing a spot at the table. Marietta, cheerful, served him a plate.

Marietta: Seriously? An arrow?

Nick: Two meters long, just like that, it got stuck in my shoulder right after we took the river. I didn't pull it out—that'd be stupid. Instead, I looked at everyone on the boat and asked, with a calm that surprised even myself... Whose gift is this? So I can return it doubled.

Von Karma laughed, rested her elbows on the table and her chin in her interlaced palms, leaning forward.

Marietta: And it didn't hurt?

Nick: Life is constant pain, sweetheart. The captain, one of those sea wolves with bones carved by waves, realized the natives were about to swarm us from the jungle, so he pushed forward until we reached lumber routes—finally, civilized people.

Both notice your presence and turn to look at you. Marietta explains that Nick tried to leave, but the path kept bringing him back to the farm, and apparently, he's trapped here just like them.

Nick: Your girlfriend offered me food and shelter until things get sorted.

He leans all his weight back in the chair and pulls a cigar from his pocket, sniffing it.

Marietta: Oh, actually he's not my boyfriend—we're just coincidentally trapped here together.

The stranger nods, and lights the cigar with a silver lighter.

Nick: Then it seems I've been wasting my time.

Refrigerator:
x1 Almond milk bottle
x1 Gluff leg
x2 Gluff fillets
x1 Neapolitan ice cream

Cabinets:
x1 Almond oil bottle
x1 Fish crackers
x1 Half pack of Bimbo bread
x1 Jar of moth jelly
x1 Set of kitchen utensils
x1 Set of cooking pans

2/2
Rangato Citrine-ad2939 No.5809 es
e18ac74780890b9f103099c447067aaaf1ab9f8e843cd1c311a9f1a780ad5d2f.jpg
61 KB 640×374
0a3e2c07d612b1745d14174596bf385778b44fdb61b0331da76763dc1aa9dd54.webp
33 KB 992×1056
>>5807
>>5808
The puzzle is assembled over time, Rando also places a piece where he sees fit and so on until it was assembled, what image was created in the end? Rando doesn't understand it at first glance, but it's because he had it upside down.

As for the cold and heartless cat.

[It is what it is, little one. Would you have preferred I lied? That muscular barbarian is nice in his own way but, my mistress and I are the only duo I need...]

He stares at the guy, he's practically an individual lacking purpose for him even after all this time. It's not a bad thing in itself, as that happens with almost any entity that is like him...

[And what about you, do you have friends? Hm... Well then, I suppose with your new words it would be better to say that "Rando has no friends"...]

The most interesting thing about him is what's hidden under that mask, maybe he's disfigured or maybe they didn't want to see his face and that's why they put it on him, maybe he's a supermodel or a weird experiment... But seeing him, Ghasto lets out a sigh and looks away...

[Although... why don't you ask her all those things yourself? I don't remember eating your tongue, do I...? But teach her to speak first, of course...]

Marietta doesn't have to fight for the sheets as Rando has her sweater, it's all he needs to be warm while he places her on top of him, posing as a kind of Totoro. Although technically Marietta is on top of herself as the sweater is made of her own hair...

[Squirrels? They are not my favorite animals, no...]

Ghasto comments upon hearing about a slightly less tragic tale than the one he had told him moments before. That night passed and Ghasto himself settled on top of them, leaving a tower made of only dreams.
The next day it was Marietta's turn to read and her choice was seen from afar, although she wouldn't have to force Ghasto into anything since he himself got into his ball position on top of the man, it's not like he was disgusted by his presence or anything.

[Poor girl...]

[Do not interrupt.]

Although it is somewhat disturbing, only Ghasto knows the full context of what he is referring to, Rando stays on the superficial level that a girl he didn't know at all died and turned into a sculpture.

[Boncarma?]

[It's spelled V-o-n, K-a-r-m-a, although it's not something you need to know... Just know that little Marietta is a...]

[Oh...]

[Yes...]

He doesn't know what that implies or what it means, but he still pays attention, he supposes that's why she gave him such a bad feeling before they got to know each other well and shared a house and bed... He reaches the end of the story and it ends abruptly.

[Bravo, bravo! It reminds me of the Brothers Grimm stories, the original and most beautiful ones... Still, does it really end with them having...?] (Pic)

[Are there really so many squirrels? And what did they look like?]

He asks if there are drawings of the characters in the book as it usually is. Other than that, Rando doesn't have much more to say, so he prepares to sleep with the messy-haired girl again, and so on to infinity.

Regarding the pot of pure greed, it seems that the more willing you are to bet your things, the better the reward will be or it will give you a reward at all. Rando looks around and counts his belongings, and apart from food, they have nothing they don't need. And throwing food at it is careless because they don't know how long they will still be there... Maybe when they have things left over or they are useless to them.

As for Ghasto who has just literally eaten a titanic parasite, due to his nature as an apex predator of who knows what species, the solitary one would have no way to feed on him, because he doesn't even have a digestive system, and it would fall sooner or later... Although not without a fight, and of course, receiving a blow from outside by the cat as retaliation...
[Don't worry about me, sweet Marietta, technically I don't even feel pain... Although staying wouldn't be a bad idea, I still have to vacuum the whole floor...]

And by vacuuming... Well, it's not really necessary to say... What is true is that he's tired, like an anaconda after consuming double its weight.

...

Apparently, after a few days, he hasn't managed to get rid of the parasite and informs his allies, he remains calm but this seems like a pretty big problem for him. At least the amount of things they have now somewhat compensates for the setback.

[If that thing doesn't die after this, I'll have to take it out and you'll kill it, in any case, there's already light and you have resources...]

[Thanks, Ghasto...]

[You're welcome, this is my job after all. Although the ecosystem of this place never ceases to surprise me, to resist like that... Although I think there's another option...]

[We'll try to make sure... you don't have to resort... to that...]

Knowing him, Ghasto is capable of exploding. And well, KABOOM, and Ghasto free of tapeworms, although he would be free again as he was before eating it if it has lasted this long. Which is better to avoid if possible.

...

After working the field without Ghasto this time, Rando returns and notices the new guy he doesn't know at all. He wonders if he's the owner of the house or something, which would be bad because they'd be squatting in the middle of nowhere. Marietta explains what she knows and after a brief deliberation, he places his fist on his palm... Now there are extra hands...

[I'm Rando, the man of the house... She's not my girlfriend... She's my wife... Yes...]

Rando doesn't quite know what those words mean, but the situation would probably lend itself to his logic reaching that conclusion. As such, Marietta cooks and takes care of the household chores while he ensures their food and fixes everything that's broken, they sleep in the same bed, they spend time playing games... In that sense, they already live like a married couple, or at least under his limited view.

[Bill? Malta? Uh-huh... You can stay... in exchange for help... Follow me...]

Rando takes Nick to the basement where Ghasto was still contemplating his master solution to all this, although he doesn't really like that option. But it's probably not even what Rando thinks he'll do, after all, Ghasto is a box of surprises...

[Oh... A new face? Here? It's not a shapeshifter, is it? Those are quite treacherous...]

[No... It's Nick, we need extra hands... More strength... Now we can kill the thing inside you...]

[I understand, but who is...?]

[A tough guy apparently, he got lost... Now Marietta will be safe... If the thing comes out...]

His logic is simple. Ghasto can't eat the parasite, so it will have to be killed, which implies that...

[You don't know how... to get rid of a giant tapeworm, do you...?]

He asks the new guy without questioning him much, few words, many actions. If the answer is no, then with enough weapons and the cat's help, it shouldn't be much of a problem.

[I understand. In any case, I inform you, Mr. Nick, that the reason for your capture here is due to a being of ice and great power... If you want to leave, like us, we must kill it, but of course, we lacked training and resources... What do you say?]

[If it gets dangerous, eat it again...]

If you noticed, Rando has improved his sentence formulation and no longer speaks archaically, all thanks to the primary school children's books they have been reading without fail until now... Although those pauses still need to disappear completely.
Rolero Paraíba Bicolor-96f260 No.5810 es
a7482f330a3effe6849de373d980c84d39a1258b6a0f3629d14ef948eb194780.jpg
1.52 MB 1709×1600
>>127965
>>5801
>For the bow's damage to double, does it need to be over 40 agility or is this okay?
This is fine. Also, regarding the 5 points for multi-attack per stat, I mean 5 stat points, not dice. I'm mentioning it just in case.

<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, Hour 10)
HP: 30/80
Energy: 42/100
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 19/21
-Strength: 8 + Small Bow
-Agility: 10 - 5 Star Orange Coat
-Stamina: 10 + 5 Star Orange Coat
-Luck: 0
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Trinkets
Trinkets
Trinkets
Crowbar
-Small Quiver 12/12
x10 Typical Arrow
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
On the way to town...

Tom: And how did you know the worm was coming? Is clairvoyance one of the strange abilities that tiny new body brought you?

Actually, the only special ability it brought you is incontinence; you have a terrible urge to urinate that makes you clench your thighs. Tom waits for you to go and come back from between the wheat fields, feeling lighter. You find him sitting on the ground, rolling up the hem of his pants to check his prosthetic leg.

Tom: We'd have to ask someone who lives on level 2, because I found out about the invasion from a friend in the city. Between you and me, and don't mention it too loudly because the walls have ears... My friend thinks the worm was released.

Who released it?

Tom: Dark people, not in skin color but in their guts.

...

Your shadow appears before you, and unlike conventional shadows which are a mere obstruction of light, the being before you can tear you apart if it feels like it, and that's exactly what it wants. Even with skin eaten away by flames, the creature runs and lunges at you.

With your coat open, you have less protection, but at the same time you are able to move better and shoot more times. You push the arrow against the bowstring and release to shoot, then repeat.
The first projectile lodges in its chest, the second bursts an eye and sticks to the skull. If it were human, it might have dropped dead—but the semi-spider keeps advancing until it clamps its chelicerae around your waist, lifts you off the ground, and makes you drop the bow.

It swings you through the air, and you feel fangs sinking into the coat's fabric, the stench of rotting breath mixing with the acrid smell of burnt hair. In panic, you flail your arms—and in that terror, your chubby hand strikes the arrow, driving it another centimeter forward with a wet crunch, just enough for the tip to pierce the brain.

The semi-spider shudders, then collapses sideways like its legs are made of clay, crashing to the ground with you beneath it.

+6 experience points received!

You open your jaws with your tiny hands and quickly drag yourself away. Fire finally engulfs your former body, blackening and curling it like burning firewood. Half the monster’s face peels off, revealing the melted half of an aged boy—burnt lips part, and from them comes your old voice:

W-Where am I? H-Help, it h-hurts.

Or maybe it was just your imagination playing tricks. The flames grow stronger, making it hard to distinguish any features as the creature creaks and curls into a fetal position. You pick up your bow from the ground and turn your back on the fire. You notice Tom is gone, but the other chef partygoer remains, along with Flametower, his face pressed into the dirt. As he senses your approach, the robot child's body trembles, slowly lifting his head to look at you with dull, lifeless eyes.

Flametower-18k: I took time activating my energy reserves. My apologies.

The glow in his eyes flickers.

Flametower-18k: I detect you are injured. Allow me to carry you—

As he tries to stand, he collapses. Now he realizes he's missing more critical components than initially calculated. The chef grabs him by the neck and lifts him up, then looks at you and gestures with his obese head toward the main street.

Gunshots and collapsing structures can be heard. Seems Tom has pulled back to fight on his own.

1/2
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5811 es
17e3ee2e7f228619ab4f6a517f7bf14397d07097c95b8e9a30fe7e517b8f63e0.jpg
44 KB 640×800
>>5779
>Marie
Mushroom's gone! And please don't come back. Lunita sounds disappointed, Marie rubs the back of her neck, like she's realizing she might've been a bit harsh.

"E-eh... Nothing personal...?" —just in case it wasn't obvious— "Sorry." —she quickly blurts out an apology—

...

After an "uff" reference and emotionally drifting in the aftermath of being suddenly hit with a taste of the future, Marie has to swallow down her feelings and keep going...

<Marie, promise me that when you get old, you won't end up like that.

(...Huh...?)

She's somewhat out of it. Lunita talks about the mysterious old man, Marie responds with a thought that feels almost subconscious, a:

(Huh... Yeah...)

One she doesn't really think about or even feel as it forms in her head, because she's got too much on her mind right now and sorting it all out is hard. At least Luz's call nudges her a little in that direction.

<You sure everything's okay?

"..." —it takes her a moment to prepare a response... But just as she takes a breath and raises her thumb, they speak again—

<Let me guess... Did you grow a mushroom?

Marie freezes for a second in shock. She quickly presses the button.

"Wh-what?! Y-yeah— how did you— yep. Yap."

Her tongue can't form anything coherent. She stops pressing the button mid-stutter, and Luz finds it extremely amusing. Marie's struggling to even begin grasping just how sharp this little woman really is.

<It's related to the moisture level in the area. I heard it sometimes happens, though you're the first person I've met it's actually happened to. You should remove them as soon as possible.

(Y-yeah, that's why I did it, Lunita.) —huge save—

"The first? Of course... Me and my luck, right...? Heh..."

An extended silence follows. Marie starts getting a bit nervous—maybe what she just said was too stupid?

"E-eh... Luz? Over...?"

It takes a few more seconds before she actually receives a reply. The sound of the button being pressed on the other end alerts her pleasantly, and with wide eyes she stares expectantly at her phone.

"Uh?"

<Did you check your hair?

"..." —her eyes widen, along with her mouth, right on the verge of horror—

She says nothing. Her hand slowly rises to the back of her head in what feels like slow motion and...
"¡AAAHH!" -screaming scene where the camera pulls away from the scene- "GET IT OFF ME, GET IT OFF ME!"

... I don't think we need to fiddle with the middle scenes anymore, so I'm going straight to the meeting with Luz

They catch her in the middle of an unpleasant moment. Luz tries to... joke around to lighten the mood? Marie didn't really understand her intention, truth be told.

<I mean, I didn't see anything I haven't seen already. Ahem!

"You're making it wooooorse!" -she says in a sitcom tone, half-joking, half-serious-

In the end, they let her pee in peace with little more than mild embarrassment. Once she reunites with Luz, though, it takes her a moment to regain her spirits. Marie is a battery and Luz is the charger, in the sense that being near her slowly restores her energy... that's a thought she once had.

<Crazy in a good way. Like, super-excited.

"Ah..." -well of course she's a bit paranoid, right?- "Momo said that? I wonder what it could be... Some beet level or something? Heh..."

(Or the UNDERTALE level?!)

(Ah what silly things I'm saying.)

(Well... I'm not actually SAYING them. But...)

(Ah shut up already!)

She's already spacing out. She focuses back on the present, where she receives some delicious twinkies and they can head to the little boat.

<Oh, so by gondola you meant this. That makes sense.

"Jaja... Yeah... I wasn't referring to a bear with no body or arms and just long legs." -...-

(Marie, your power level is showing.)

"Eh..." -raises a finger- "i-it's a meme." -she clarifies-

After that, they set sail. Marie rows for a moment before rejoining her girlfriend, snuggling up close to her. She leaves her sword and backpack parallel to them as she eats one of the sweets.

"Mm~" -shows it's delicious by looking at Luz, so she can see she likes it, nodding her head- "Hm?"

Even with the candy still in her mouth, she looks confused by Luz's little hand gesture. Marie swallows.

"W-what? What's up?"

Luz is asking for something. Marie blinks a couple times, and her eyes drop. First to the most obvious thing—she points at the twinkie she's holding. Does she want a bite? Nope. Not understanding, Marie lifts the wrapper higher, as if to point at it. Once Luz nods, Marie goes "ohh" and hands it over.
"No need... heh..."

She could’ve done the same with her backpack. Though most likely she’d have forgotten the wrapper inside and never thrown it away after all. So Luz did the right thing.

"Thanks..."

Everything was going fine. Maybe too fine... It’s like Marie just can’t hold back from ruining the moment, so she makes some dumb, idiotic joke that doesn’t amuse Luz at all. The clear look of annoyance wipes the smile off Marie’s face in an instant. She tries to hug her, but gets crossed arms instead. She made her mad.

"Oh nooo... Luz... Look at me... Look at me..."

If she manages to get her attention, Luz would find Marie giving her puppy-dog eyes.

"Pwease, donuts?" -she sticks out her lower lip for extra effect-

<Mmmh, no I didn’t say that. I’m just, not upset.

"P-pwea-"

Luz lets her head drop onto the nerd’s shoulder, and Marie relaxes a little with a sigh.

"Yeah, you do seem kinda upset..." -she mutters into the air- "b-but I’ll fix it..." -she’ll think of something to make up for her dumb joke-

<Ouch

gasp -she startles- "What?! What happened?!" -Luz touches her ear, then shows the culprit: an earring- "oh..." -luckily it was just that, she got scared for nothing-

The girls exchange glances. Marie has a blank expression, unsure how she should react to this. She blinks twice while Luz finishes examining her.

<They’d look cute on you.

"Huh? On... on me?" -she touches her ear- "heh... Y-you think? I- uh- not even... I didn’t even think people noticed that much... Heh..."

"Ah... And my parents would’ve never approved..." -she lets out an awkward half-laugh, yeah, they were strict- "seems yours were more lenient, heh. Cool..." -she probably could’ve played way more video games if that were the case-

<My cousins. Mom helped us. I used an ice cube... It hurt a little.

"Ouch..." -she just imagines it and flinches- "a little?"

<maybe it’s not a good idea, your lobes are really sensitive.

"Jaja..." -she gets embarrassed, shrinking in place, she gets the hint- "y-yeah... I-I guess I’m... sensitive in general..."
She scratches her cheek with a fingertip as she blushes... that's true. The lack of physical contact throughout her life had made her this way. Any touch sent shivers through her, but admitting that in this particular conversation was a bit... embarrassing. Especially since Luz probably knew it better than anyone.

"Uh?"

They enter a more relaxed area. The water sounds like it's part of the soundtrack for this level, while the scenery begins to shift.

"Ohh..."

Between pillars, arches, and little fish. Everything starts looking more beautiful... This zone was probably meant for a sweet memory.

(Alright, Marie... this is the moment. Make it special...)

<Yawn

Luz embraces her like a full-on campus casanova. Marie looks at her curiously for a moment, quickly understanding what she did. She smiles happily, relaxes... and leans into her, surrendering to her beloved.

"Did you watch a lot of movies, babe...?" —she asks, eyes gazing upward; that was such a cliché— "heh..." —she lets out a cheerful giggle— "me too..." —she confesses—

Marie sighs like a lovesick teenager because... oh, surprise. That's exactly what she is.

"I don't know how you make me love everything about you, but..." —everything goes dark— "Ah! T-the lights went out!"

(You've gotta be kidding me now?!)

(Damn it!)

Luz turns on the flashlight, watching Marie still rummaging through her pockets looking for her phone.

"Wow... So fast. Lucky me you're so organized... heh..." —she just searches for excuses to give her compliments, while continuing to pat her pockets— "where is it... Aha!"

She pulls out her phone quickly, like drawing a pistol.

"Here it..."

Luz's gaze makes her lower the phone as if it suddenly didn't matter. There are more important things than Undertale, Marie realizes the moment those beautiful chocolate lips begin forming the start of a kiss.

(...maybe it's time to stop fooling around...)

Marie closes her eyes and leans in, joining their lips and then their bodies in an embrace that seeks to be as close as possible to her...

Maybe stopping the silliness was impossible for Marie... but at that moment, at least, she meant it with all her heart.

Don't think so? Luz doesn't have masculine traits as far as I remember. She's more like what normies call a "woman who solves stuff" kek

1/2
Marie Scapolite-78c6ac No.5812 es
29a3d845901f7e29ea9e656a426e631de3ee0a31433bea48946e6810680ce82c.jpg
94 KB 447×669
06a30d95877cc09fe09b354263b3e8bfc50f0affabafefc3d04795b693c959a9.png
1.16 MB 1357×1142
1.58 MB
>>5780
>Marie
Today, I was walking with someone in a paradise made of beautiful brushstrokes. The breeze, and the waves were a dreamlike landscape, highlighted, like the precious girl accompanying her, by the perfect shading of the sunset.

(Beautiful...)

She had been thinking that even before she understood she liked her. Luz is very pretty... that smile makes Marie go dumb...

(A-AH!)

She shakes her head when she realizes she was staring at her, mesmerized, with a silly look on her face and looks away with regret, as if they weren't already girlfriends.

(CALM DOWN, MARIE! THAT'S NOT ATTRACTIVE AT ALL.)

(I know... Just play it cool! Like Miles Morales.)

Marie looks to the side and with a quick head turn, looks at Luz with narrowed eyes and a confident smile, as if imitating Handsome Squidward.

"Hey." -Marie stays like that for a few seconds, then starts to blush-

(Bad idea. BAD IDEA!)

She looks away again. That was stupid.

After that, looking around a bit... she can notice something.

(Hey... This place is familiar...)

(No... not just familiar... I-isn't this the beach f-f-f-f-? Gulp The one from the door?!)

She doesn't dare to say what specific memory in her mind. All that about possible futures is still crazy...

That said, there were no moai in that future, Marie laughs like an idiot and runs just enough to lead the way and point at the statues.

"Haha, look! They're the..." -she squints- "OOOOOOOAAAAAAA."

Marie does her best imitation of the meme. https://youtu.be/2tRIjRVcHcQ?si=wm5Oesnpt5qcRX-i
Then she lets out a little laugh.

"Uh... It sounds familiar, right?"

Luz decides to climb, Marie follows her curiously.

"Oh, are we going up?"

Luz takes her hand. Marie smiles and takes it.

"Let's go!"

With her help, she can climb without problems, Luz suggests a photo. Marie thinks it's a great idea and quickly takes out her phone, puts on the front camera.

"Okay, I'll do... This pose."

She lowers her eyelids, makes a duck face, and raises her elbow, making a diagonal downward V. That means she's cool. She presses the button, the timer runs, they take the photo. Then Marie checks it.

"Haha. It came out great." -she shows it to Luz-

<Did you know that most moai look inland? Only 7, the Ahu Akivi, face the sea. They say they are based on 7 kings, as well as the native pioneers who discovered Easter Island.
"Huh... No, I didn't know... I knew them more for the OOOOAAAA" -laughs with Luz- "now that I think about it..." -makes a surprised face- "Isn't it strange that these are here?" -looks at the moai-

<I know because at my school they assigned us presentations about the Santas of the world. I got Tawanga, the Santa Claus of the South Seas.

"Ha. Cool... I bet it turned out great, right?" -she hasn't revealed the performance part and already imagines it, Luz looks like the type of girl who puts a lot of effort into reports and presentations- "Wait..." -she squints- "there are more Santas?" -she brings her little hand to her chin- "hm... no wonder they can deliver gifts to all the children in one night..."

She seems much calmer now. She just needed some time with Luz to lose her bad mood.

<Are you tired?

So that catches her by surprise.

"Ah?, Me? Uh..."

She looks at herself, looks around. And well... no. The truth is she's much better. But... something tells her that maybe that question has more intentions behind it. Marie looks a bit conflicted...

(D-didn't we need to arrive soon...?)

(Oh... W-what if Charmy gets angry...?)

That's the first thing she thinks and she looks worried... But once she raises her gaze a little and finds Luz expectant... she finds it hard not to smile.

(Well... Maybe...)

Marie lets out a sigh and half-falls towards Luz with her eyes closed, so she'll hug her.

"Now that you mention it... yes... I am a bit tired..." -she opens one eye, smiling at her, then the other- "heh... Are we going to have to make a stop here...? We can catch up."

Catch up? They just separated for a while... Luz might think that, but it's incredible how much Marie managed to gather to tell in such a short time.

(...s-sure... sure she'll understand...)

She thinks about Charmy.

(Right...?)

Anyway... maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to make this a special place for both of them...

2/2

>kek, I think I already made this joke.
Kek. Something like that.
>>5802
Watch out hex girls. There are new idols in town kek saved

>>5806
>poor Marie doesn't have her own weeb object to pose with kek.
Hey... That's true. Where is her weeb object?! Marie will take the same path as Toby Fox and pretend to be Japanese until she believes it kek

Speaking of which, how do you imagine the triple backrooms dynamic? I imagine it like vid related kek

I just saw that I think I have meta things to respond... I'll do it later in Catherine's turn.
Rolero Paraíba Bicolor-96f260 No.5813 es
47cfd0f78625543786fa221b693dbf1e6f3fda6214e028c8e67d78ca703fa544.jpg
33 KB 640×640
15455ae2eb1fa8fea9ba5f8693495ad1f6c37fca9c8b21451a79e12b5ec256d2.webp
59 KB 836×954
319a526045dc65ba203a81a1ff1335130c2bdcaa56a44a826c1ce2dd3fd960b0.jpg
199 KB 1400×1900
>>5810
>>5801
<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, Hour 10)
HP: 30/80
Energy: 42/100
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 19/21
-Strength: 8 + Small bow
-Agility: 10 - 5 Stellar orange coat
-Stamina: 10 + 5 Stellar orange coat
-Luck: 0
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Trinkets
Trinkets
Trinkets
Crowbar
-Small quiver 12/12
x10 Typical arrow
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
You pull the drawstring of your coat to close it and resume walking towards the center of town, towards the sound of gunshots and skirmishes. The partygoer walks a couple of steps ahead of you, with Flametower resting on his palms as if it were the remains of a martyr. Now that the chef recognized the robot as something "alive," he opted to carry it more carefully.

A house explodes to your left, the flames illuminate your face and make you jump. A man covered in ashes runs out, followed by a hooded figure who lunges at him, hitting him from the side and knocking him onto his back. The burning figure crawls until it's on top of the guy and brings a dagger closer, the man grabs the archer's hands and struggles, but starts screaming as the fire spreads up his arms and waist. The dagger enters his heart and both fall still and silent, incinerating.

A bit further ahead, they find a barricade of wheelbarrows, hay bales, and sacks, with arrows stuck in them. A disheveled woman with a metal mask peeks out and attacks them with a shotgun. The blast of the weapon catches you by surprise, but the partygoer gets in the way and takes the pellets to the gut. When the woman takes a few seconds to reload, the partygoer leaps with surprising agility, the shadow crosses the street and grows over the woman, who looks up unable to close her eyes until the chef falls with a weight that lifts the earth and sends blood and guts flying.

A liver lands on your face with a wet thud. It has a slight taste of alcohol, the woman must have been a regular drinker.
Silence dominates the vicinity of the burning town hall. Bodies of archers, farmers, and mercenaries lie scattered. There's a wooden platform with people on it—you see Alondra among them, hands bound and a loose noose around their necks. Only one trapdoor is open, and beneath the platform is a woman with short, messy black hair, kneeling on the ground, the length of her hangman’s knot severed. Someone must have saved her. The one who fared worst is the next in line—a bespectacled woman who had a metal spike driven into her eye. Maybe she said something that annoyed Bill, or perhaps she suffered due to an old grudge.

Speaking of Bill, he stands in the middle of the street, a glowing whip in one hand and a magnum revolver in the other. A couple of arrows are lodged between his ribs, but that didn’t seem to kill him. Tom faces him, unmoving except for one arm—the other lies on the ground, blood dripping from the stump.

Bill: I'll tell you something, Tom. It wasn't supposed to be me who killed you. I had a professional hired so you could waste your time, but in these backrooms these days, a word's worth no more than wet paper.

Tom: Wet paper keeps vegetables fresh in the fridge and softens stale bread.

Bill smiles without laughing.

Bill: Always so clever. I'll tell you something—

Tom: You're already telling me. No need to announce it.

Bill stops smiling.

Bill: Fine... Get lost, Tom, and you'll live another day. Go back to that hole you call a restaurant and waste the years you've got left. Consider it a courtesy, for old times' sake.

Tom: A courtesy for kicking your ass out? For scaring you so badly that you only dared return when, somehow, you got Hank's artifact and took his disappearance as certain? You're the stupidest, most pathetic excuse for a man I've ever known, Bill.

Bill cracks the whip against the ground. Electric trails flash across it for an instant. No more words are exchanged—only glares colliding and a growing tension that knots your stomach, as if the air were compressing tighter and tighter, until it can't be contained any longer and...

It explodes.

Bill and Tom step forward without lifting their feet, shoving the snow aside.

Bill: 1d50 = 41
Tom: 1d50 = 10

2/3
Rolero Paraíba Bicolor-96f260 No.5814 es
f8afa44dddb24a14f2be936d5562af23ab815423fb0f46f005bdb03835f8d3ff.jpg
122 KB 1223×877
b9f5ddd123f215ebd566af80ff7c35ab284faa2c69f303f3314380f8025307a8.jpg
34 KB 600×450
0ddb2ade87050cbe9cde06c5af0b56f38fb2a49c1a81fd3b7ea1ac0649ce8e83.jpg
92 KB 670×495
3c02eca8470fd08952c8969a7686c2911064f26e8f5a985f5d5758af0bb57121.jpg
52 KB 640×411
spoiler
653 KB 3300×3300 spoiler
>>5813
>Hank
<Harry
Fixed.

<Maria Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, Hour 10)
HP: 30/80
Energy: 42/100
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 19/21
-Strength: 8 + Small Bow
-Agility: 10 - 5 Stellar Orange Coat
-Endurance: 10 + 5 Stellar Orange Coat
-Luck: 0
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Junk
Junk
Junk
Crowbar
-Quiver Small 12/12
x10 Typical Arrow
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and 10 thirst.

Level 10
Bill and Tom now occupy the spot where seconds ago their opponent's feet were sinking. They remain with their backs to each other, bent over, motionless, until finally one of them speaks.

Bill: You should have accepted my offer.

Bill straightens up at the same time Tom collapses, a red puddle forming beneath the latter's body.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vhqeinYPqBw
A hoarse, wounded roar echoes. The partygoer lets Flametower fall and charges with arms outstretched towards Bill. The mustachioed man waits, and when the mass of fat is close, he dodges effortlessly.

On the stage, you see the pigtail-haired archer moving among the condemned to cut their bonds and free them. Alondra is one of the first fortunate ones, and in her escape she notices you and runs over. When she's in front of you, you see her work jumpsuit is torn and her face is bruised.

Alondra: What the hell-?! How-?

She swallows hard.

Alondra: N-Never mind.

She picks up the remains of Flametower and has to move aside when a second mass of flesh comes running down the street and continues past where Bill is. The invader keeps the chefs at bay with dodges and whip strikes, but a sheen of sweat is appearing on the man's forehead.

??? (Valiant Voice): Halt there, scoundrel! Release the mayors and these innocent people!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-kRYu4CAN4k
From among the snow and ashes, a tin man appears. It's Brandon Marco Gol, the sentinel of the merchant city! And he doesn't appear alone; a group of burly men (and one woman) accompany him, armed to the teeth. One or two are wounded by bullet holes, but they remain firm enough to keep fighting.

Brutus: Sasha starts with 'S' for Slaughter! And she means it!

Zelanda: I hope the mayor doesn't scold us for being late.

You witness Bill being surrounded by the chefs and the BNTG forces. Bill remains still with his whip raised, only moving his eyes; his hawk-like gaze assesses his situation... It's one against many.

The silence is such that you swear you can hear Bill sigh. The man slowly lowers his whip and head; for a moment, he gives the impression of surrendering. He tilts his face towards Anastasia, who is being attended to by Malta and protected by the muscular woman with pink hair.

Bill: You're not the only one with influential friends, mayor.
The breeze turns colder. With your sharp prepubescent eyes, you catch a white speck descending from the moon, hovering about 40 meters above you (Open spoiler). The young woman, incredibly similar to you, keeps muttering something while waving her ice-shaped wand. So far, you're the only one who notices Charlie.

A body lying in a corner stirs, it's a farmer's. You think maybe he survived his wounds, but when he plants his hands and turns his face in your direction, you discover bright blue eyes and a growing spectral paleness.

A multitude of blue gazes rise from the streets, previously dark and silent in death. The empty roads are now occupied by a wall of the undead. An arm grabs you and lifts you off the ground, it's Alondra carrying you like a sack under her armpit and running for a free alley, only to find more white-walkers appearing and forcing her to retreat.

Alondra: I-I was never a believer, but... Dear God, forgive me for stealing, for lying, for doing it before marriage, and above all for that!

Maybe the guy who was going to rape you came back too, you're not sure. You look up, Charlie looks shocked by something, and when you lower your gaze to where she's looking, you realize Tom's corpse remains lying there.

Brandon: Everyone, group up, this will be the final stand! They will sing odes about our bravery!

Zelanda: I'm too shy to be the subject of a song, no thanks.

Brutus opens his mouth and roars, spins the barrel of his minigun (Sasha), and fires a hundred bullets at Bill. But instead of turning him into ground meat, the projectiles flatten and bounce off a mutable wall as transparent and thin as a nascent layer of ice, but as hard as diamond. Brutus stops firing and raises the smoking barrel to his face, not understanding what happened. Bill gives a half-smile and wipes sweat from his forehead with one hand. Charlie continues to move her lips in an unintelligible prayer.

-The Partychefs
HP: 300/300
-Strength: 30 + 1d50 = 43
-Agility: 30 + 1d50 = 47
-Toughness: 60
Traits:
-If HP is below 50%, stats are halved, but dice rolls become 1d100.

--BNTG Protectors (Brutus - Brandon - Zelanda)
HP: 750/750
-Strength: 1d100 = 83
-Toughness: 1d100 = 30
Traits:
-Damage is directed at all characters within range.
-Grant resistance to allies
-Every time 250 HP is lost, gain +25 on all rolls, including for allies

---------

-Bill the Filthy
HP: 200/280
-Strength: 30 + 20 Pegasus Bond + 1d50 = 1
-Agility: 28 + 20 Pegasus Bond + 1d50 = 17
-Toughness: 30 + 100 Ice Maiden's Veil
Techniques:
-???

-Charlie
HP: 100/100
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 8
-Toughness: 1
Techniques:
-???
-??? (Active)

--White-walker Army
HP: 99417/100000
-Strength: 1d100 = 43
Traits:
-Damage is directed at all characters within range.
-Every time a character is defeated, they recover 100 HP.

3/3
Rolero Paraíba Bicolor-96f260 No.5815 es
3738c97df00ad917b6457e33b15b0bada5abbf01913a65872a4d53a6c8283748.jpg
212 KB 1920×1080
>>5814
I missed the attack with the revolver by Bill.
-Magnum Revolver (5/6)
Function: Damage x3, Priority +2
Two shots: 1d50 = 41
Rolero Paraíba Bicolor-96f260 No.5816 es
88135be0e57aa2cff1997a6c821ac6fe1d1071873a39e07c46bf44997d058763.jpg
148 KB 1741×1500
>>5806
Are you 100% sure of your decision, anon?

>>5802
It would be 4 exp in HP to increase the total by 2 points: 170. 2 to increase Resistance by 1. You would have 1 point left over, I don't remember if you have another one saved somewhere.

<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 60, 3 PM)
HP: 80/170
Energy: 29/80
Hunger: 25/40 - Thirst: 25/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete + 9mm Pistol (2/7. Damage x2. Safety off)
-Agility: 10
-Resistance: 11
-Luck: 2
Inventory:
-Pockets 0/4
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Ultimate secret of the body's self-judgment (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it is used).

Level 10
When you open your mouth wide to thank Rosynini, a sharp pain closes it. A reminder that you must moderate your jaw movements. Another distinct detail is how long your tongue feels, before you couldn't touch the bottom of your chin with it, but now...

Francine: If you make faces, you'll end up crooked.

The blonde scolds you.

There was a reason no one wanted to go near the back seats: A body bag (Given by Leon, who assured he never left home without one) occupied a spot in the seats, upright, holding a content that gives it the silhouette of a person. Claus uses a handkerchief to clean his glasses and places them where the face should be. The boy lets out a tired sigh, it's evident even to him that it's not the same. His shoulders rise slightly as he sees you approach and he gives you a sad smile.

Claus: It was my idea not to clip. It seemed like a quick and safe way to cut through...

He looks at the bag and shakes his head.

Claus: I'm not smart, I'm the opposite of that.

You sit next to him. He looks at you again. You ask what happened to Donny.

Claus: Bad people appeared and a you that isn't you and we escaped and there was a storm with a crazy mummy and then a tunnel and then a man with a head that actually had three heads and he carried swords and-

You have to stop him and ask him to slow down. Claus takes a deep breath and explains more calmly how he got separated from Donatello at the aquarium.

Claus: He said he'd be back but he didn't return. Maybe he found a better friend, a cool one, one with intact memories... I don't blame him. Wherever I go, there's trouble. Look at Olivia how she ended up... She deserved to roll around the world, go down ramps...! Not this.

He buries his head a little deeper with each new word. The smiler lifts its neck from under the seats where it's lying and brings its head closer to Claus, the young man strokes its jet-black fur.

Claus: Thanks, Slime. You always know how to make me feel better.

You turn your attention back to Francine and ask if she still has the Eye of Argos.

Francine: Oh, yeah, the ball. Let's see, where did he put it...?

She startles, and for a reason you can't grasp, blushes until her face turns Marie tomato red.

Francine: We need to make a stop...
León agreed with the idea. He had been driving in a straight line for a while, but not a single farm appeared, making him understand that level 10 was being capricious. He brakes among the wheat field to help camouflage himself, near the road they had been following.

León: It's worth camping and resting a bit, especially after what we went through. We'll continue traveling at dawn.

He says from the driver's seat. He starts debating with Hank about how they will organize the night watches. Three shifts of a few hours each.

Hank: The new kid should do the second shift.

León: He looks like a Mediterranean twink, monsieur. I have reservations about entrusting my safety to someone of his kind.

You can get out of the bus to stretch your legs, without straying too far from the light the vehicle offers. Your stitches hurt from the cold air, but it's better to be outside than to help Hank and Leon scrub the blood that remained stuck to the floor and seats of the bus. Dirty red water spills from under the chassis.

Hether, the mute girl, hands out bottles of almond water to the ladies to clean themselves if they wish. You don't wish it, you need it; you have many pieces of Art stuck to you, although pouring water on yourself in this weather is an idea that frightens you almost as much as continuing to wear a bloody, sadistic clown cape on your skin.

Francine spends a few minutes lost in the wheat before returning to you and handing you the crystal sphere. You receive the Eye of Argos in your hands, your nose detects a rich vanilla scent.

Francine: Th-That?

She smiles nervously and waves her hand as if it were a minor matter.

Francine: I put a little bit of my perfume on it, to set the mood. Vanilla and sandalwood.

Even with new scents, it's still the same Eye of Argos. You decide to use its charges, wanting to see your brother. You concentrate, the energy inside the crystal swirls, but instead of Donny, it shows an intense and deep darkness, like the mouth of a well or a cave.

Pessimism makes you think Donatello is dead. But something deep inside you, called instinct, makes you suspect that if that were the case, the Eye would show you his corpse.

No, Donatello is in a place more somber and isolated than death itself.

Hank: Cuba?

The guy from Florida asks from behind you. You turn around.

Hank: I heard you muttering about a somber and isolated place.

You have to get rid of this inconvenient habit of talking unintentionally.

Hank: We need someone to do the second watch shift. Are you in? León says he'll give you bullets for your pistol.

His eyes dart sideways towards another member of the group: Francine. Without looking away from her, he leans towards you.

Hank: Is it me, or has she gotten much hotter since we left the city?

You don't understand why he's talking about that topic with you. You're a high school teenager, not a middle-aged man who has barbecues and drinks beer on a suburban hill.
Rolero Fluorapatite-b7cb2d No.5817 es
49a7bae2fa2afee507c51e6dab447f1e08293892a37cac1f2d74089171864d39.jpg
27 KB 526×526
>>5816
>Are you 100% sure about your decision, anon?
If I look down I'll fall, you push and I'll go all in
Rolero Paraíba Bicolor-96f260 No.5818 es
6dd8156b962041601f683a34310345e835d16044e0933ae8bbf18d87f0359ec3.jpg
94 KB 736×736
9d2a5be9c353e15387dc4d188b7ebfcdd5201e1f19c44c1e0788f8f24758a0ff.jpg
77 KB 750×1000
b6027509a8cf08a47e1247459af6fa3be9b3be206590fe3bd55b748e723f4e8d.jpg
36 KB 894×260
spoiler
174 KB 1080×810 spoiler
>>5806
<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, Hour 9)
HP: 77/100
Energy: 46/50
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 18/20
-Strength: 14
-Agility: 13 - 5 Soggy Hazmat Suit V2
-Endurance: 14 + 10 Soggy Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 3
Inventory
-Pockets 2/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Magnum Revolver (0/6. Damage x3, Priority +2)
Abilities:
Werewolf (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.

Level 11
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ud5yDjM63IRadiohead extends its colossal arms, from its wrists rise nuclear reactors shaped like cannons that fire atomic power beams, thus combating the hurricane winds. At this point you expected wings to sprout, or a railgun from its chest capable of finishing off the white horde in a jiffy.

The appearance of Buenos Aires amidst the blizzard and snow puts your heart in check, the idea of returning to a normal life is too tempting, a thousand times better than continuing in a lost infinity, being flogged by pseudo-kings and pseudo-gods who are insane. You leap with your arm outstretched towards freedom, the wind and hail shake you, but you don't care. You can almost taste the mate and feel the obelisk...

Junior: Aaaaaah!

You hear the wooden boy scream. You look over your shoulder and see him in the distance, spinning like a top until Polar appears from the frost and rescues him in her arms. However, the wind carries them straight to crash like flies against the facade of a building.

Until...

A winged silhouette takes shape, revealing its dozens of open eyes that help outline its dark figure. The butterfly flies by and rescues both of them, who end up on its back. When the entity makes eye contact with you, instinctively you get it... It's Wesker, the crazy monk from before! He's reborn, like a butterfly.

Polar points at you. The butterfly flutters and approaches with all its eyes fixed on you. They want to rescue you, but the last thing you want is to be saved. You swim in the air, pushing with your feet and hands towards freedom. Polar grabs your ankle. It seems all is lost for you, but a strong gust of wind from Olaf separates them.

You spin in the wind, watching as the butterfly gets further and further away, until it disappears, and above you only Argentina remains.

...

You lose consciousness, the blood in your mouth tastes like 15 to 30 seconds of unconsciousness. You plant your palms, they are not webbed, you are in your human form. You feel the pebbles and stones beyond the suit, and you suspect you might have fallen on Playa Los Acantilados. You slowly open your eyes, you discover that the suit's visor is broken, but that's the least of it, because a couple of meters away you glimpse the sign with the address...

Your expression lights up. It's written in green and white, in capital letters.

Buenos Aires.

You did it. You returned to the real world. You stand up and raise your gaze to contemplate the blue sky, your blurry vision takes a few seconds to define the landscape...

(Open pic spoiler)

What you witness makes your jaw drop. You fall to your knees. The mother of all storms continues to swirl far above.

END...?

You will have to wait for the main story to advance before the epilogue is delivered. I hope you enjoyed the journey, anon.
Otaku Gem Silica-eff3c9 No.5819 es
f25ac592ca3e6aa0b8ce2108671e83cadd06a2c22fa3a47cb6311bdd3f1ef510.jpg
372 KB 1097×1600
d33da2726c01abaac598938c20e796719ba47215829248b3e0b02272723dd723.png
466 KB 750×1048
787980dc711d6862f5bcfb2ed9052afd669ac2abcfce3a8afc06a4504cfba711.png
415 KB 750×1048
9d00da7668c5eabb09dd03b6f831022bb83c81a0dd89ced00ae22ecd30728673.png
587 KB 750×1048
8f72f9e101b2f1e2c64433000f238d14014c16abc10dc8487b0d401fbfa726d1.png
539 KB 750×1048
>>5816so I'll leave it to luck, and I don't think I have anything saved from before
>Irene

Her tongue reaches her chin, then she tries and now reaches her nose "Hehe...Oh, s-sorry" She's scolded, apparently she couldn't stop being a child

"..."

The body bag only reinforced the cautious and evasive atmosphere of the bus, she approaches Claus to talk.

"It's not your fault that happened Claus, no one could have predicted you'd end up here and that the clown would have those...abilities" She asks for explanations and the amnesiac boy goes a bit too fast with his story "Ok ok a little slower! Slower, ok?" Slower "Huh, another me, I wonder how many of those there are...how many are left" The other her had died, and knowing her brother he wouldn't have taken it very well, nor did she know how to take it

>"Maybe he found a better friend (...) I don't blame him"

Irene said nothing and just hugged him, hugged him very tightly, although she couldn't lie and admit that she too was in need of a hug.

"I understand how you feel... I didn't have many friends at school, but you're wrong, Donatello isn't like that, he's too good for his own good, he wouldn't abandon you or anyone, if he didn't come back, it's because something happened to him, I'm sure of it, in fact, I was able to see with an artifact where he was and he was... very changed. But what I want to get at, none of this is your fault, I mean look" The little Smiler approaches "Look at the friend you made, that proves you're not repulsive or anything. Although at this point knowing where Donny is would be good before continuing with my mission..." That's when she asks Francine about the eye, they had to make a stop

...

"I'll be right back Claus, I'm going to clean myself up" The cold water was going to hurt, especially her stitches, but staying with pieces of clown was disgusting "One would think that having become one with the cold would have left me some advantages, but no~~" Gritting her teeth, she moved near a patch of grass and wet her hands to start cleaning off the pieces of flesh, blood, and also whatever little she could from her clothes, a shower could come later.

Upon finishing, she returns in time with Francine, who returns the perfumed eye of Argos, she has a bad feeling "Yes, this, thank you..." With that in hand, she approaches Claus again "Look, with this we can see anyone in the back room, no matter where or when, you just have to think about it very well, let's see..." She thinks hard about her brother, but is only met with intense darkness "This... this didn't happen before, I saw it many times and there was no problem..."
She began to tremble, trying to think what this could be, not wanting to reach one of the more logical conclusions "Is he..." She shook her head too hard for the stitches she had "No, he can't be dead! If this thing is so powerful that it can show people inside and outside the storage room, it shouldn't have any problem showing a corpse... wherever it is, is it worse than being dead?"

>Cuba?

Hank pulled her out of her daze "Uh, no, uh, it doesn't matter" They told her to do the second round of surveillance "Sure, are you coming with me Claus?"

>Am I the only one, or has it gotten way hotter since we left the city?

"Huh?" Did she have a divorced dad aura? "Well, now that you mention it... a little, the temperature seems to have risen a couple of degrees even" If there was anyone you could trust to be a human thermometer, it was a herald or ex-herald of Sahikorth "Although not enough, brrrr" She rubbed her hands together, shivering from the cold "Hank, how is your daughter, and the other girls? That shit clown seemed to have scared everyone a lot"

>>5806
It's just that her lack of something is very important to her identity
>poor Marie who doesn't have her own weeb object to pose with kek
I couldn't change the pose much to add something to her, my bad. Although I don't know what happened that Irene's eyes turned out weird, she looks like a Husky the way she's looking
>>5811
how cute is that Marie
>>5812
>Speaking of which, how do you imagine the triple backrooms dynamic?
Poor Eiko, she has to put up with two idiotic teenagers with their perception of reality completely altered by anime, kek it unlocked a very specific memory where a classmate from high school was so much of an otaku that she called her mother Oka-san, how cringe, god, kek. That's how I imagine them with Eiko
>>5786
I forgot this

>Donny
<Suffering
-Ended up in the storage room
-Fell off a cliff
-Saw 3 versions of his sister die
-Had to deal with gay thoughts
-Was turned into a baby
-Was turned into a child
-Betrayed and locked in the nursery for two days
-Suffered a lot of physical and self-inflicted punishment
-Was captured by the powers of an entity, transformed into a monster, and killed his mother by eating her alive

<Deserved
-Abandoned a boy with amnesia

I think I would move him one square from Deserved

>Eiko
<Suffering
-Is a Japanese office worker, with no friends or family
-Fell into the backrooms
-Lost an arm
-Was wrapped up and forced to participate in stupid situations against her will to survive during a catastrophic event
-Lost her legs and her other arm
-Bit her tongue and committed suicide

<Deserved
I don't know, I don't remember, kek

>I don't even know where the Eikoverse begins and ends anymore
The Eikoverse is as vast and self-sustaining as the Backrooms
Rolero Paraíba Bicolor-96f260 No.5820 es
0096933e83d4af04a0a56140f6eca7eefd281a7cd38f7cac0194c60b6ae07c5e.jpg
270 KB 1920×1080
ad5e8a993da9599fa86f079a15ce64f8d618ea9c236a02b72f9098c60d539627.jpg
273 KB 1236×2000
bae5b8bf931c35ab8dc409bb90bcb6d22b538f959e030ccc232fc3688b846c16.webp
53 KB 304×701
>>5809
<Rando Roadagain (Day 40, Hour 12)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 44/50
Hunger: 14/20 - Thirst: 14/20
-Strength: 8 + 16 Ghasto (+1 extra attack)
-Agility: 7 + 15 Ghasto
-Stamina: 7 + 5 Purple Sweater
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8
-Trainings
Strength: 8 (5/10) - Agility: 7 (5/10) - Stamina: 7 (5/10)

Level 10
The puzzle on the table is complete. No, wait, there's a piece missing in the center, and once you notice it, you can't stop seeing it. It's infuriating, a hole that breaks perfect harmony...

Perhaps the missing piece is somewhere in the house.

Marietta: Of course I have friends.

She replies to Ghasto, crossing her arms and pouting.

Marietta: It's just that none of them are trapped here. I bet if Jimmy knew where I was, he'd come rescue me in a jiffy.

She received the "And why don't you ask him?" with skepticism. Maybe Rando simply doesn't want to share details of his past life, and asking him would end up making things awkward.

One night he tells a story...

Marietta: You did what...?

The purple-clad girl blinks, not understanding where Ghasto is getting at. Rando is curious about squirrels, Marietta shows him an illustration from the book, though it looks more like a low-resolution photo. The muse's red stands out beneath the stapled squirrels.

...

Wife. The word leaves the alluded speechless. Marietta faces Rando, the spirals in her irises slowly turning.

Marietta: W-What are you saying? We're not married, Rando. We barely know each other... In all the days we've been here, I don't even know what your face looks like.

The foreigner, leaning back in his chair, takes a puff of his cigar and blows a ring, which he then points at with a finger. Marietta watches the smoke figure, understands, nods repeatedly, and raises her left hand to show the absence of a ring.

Already in the basement, Nick walks around Ghasto a couple of times, observing the creature from top to bottom.

Nick: Solitary, huh? I'll assume you're talking about a parasite, that would explain... how swollen this thing is, "like a ball."

He nods. Apparently, he does know how to get it out, and immediately identifies the mistake they were making.

Nick: You have to change your perspective, you'll never get it out from this side.

The foreigner walks calmly to position himself behind the cat. He takes off his shirt, revealing his rock-hard pectorals, tribal lines emphasizing the hard angles of each muscle. He straightens his fingers and points, and without hesitation, delivers a straight blow.

Nick's arm sinks up to his shoulder in Ghasto's anus. The foreigner feels around until a glint crosses his eyes (which have no irises or pupils, they are entirely white), when he perceives a strange movement. As he needs a better grip, he puts his other arm inside the cat and then, yes, begins to pull back and tug.

Two meters of worm emerge, then three, then four. Nick grunts, giving a strong tug, the tapeworm is ripped out suddenly, and Nick ends up throwing it, literally, on top of Rando.

-Tapeworm
HP: 300/300
-Strength: 15 + 1d50 = 15
-Agility: 10 + 1d50 = 38
-Stamina: 5

Traits:
-When attached to an enemy, it begins to drain 1 stat each turn.

Nick would stay out of the fight. He considers his job more than fulfilled after removing the parasite from Ghasto. Relaxed, he would go upstairs to wash his arms.
Rolero Clinoclase-2024d6 No.5821 es
48fcbffa4127ed0909dab183cb4677a123bec7c172799d0f1a7ba4eef68af737.jpg
23 KB 499×400
>>5820
Marietta approaches Rando, scandalized by his words, but he just tilts his head and hunches over a bit to be at her height. Placing one of his large hands on her hair...

[But... I want you to be my wife... I like your food... And your games... And when we read stories... You make me feel loved...]

Apparently, relationship ranks are foreign to him; there's a gap between barely knowing each other and his current interpretation of their relationship, but he handles this situation with the same simplicity with which he deals with his problems.

[I like your hair... It's warm... And your body when we sleep together... It's so soft... And your eyes when you're nervous... They're so pretty...]

He moves closer, his breath passing over the mask, but there's still a mask between them. At the same time, he tells her he hasn't seen her face at all... and now that he thinks about it, it's true... But in reality, no one has seen his face since he arrived, so he took it as normal.

[Is... it that important...? I'll show it to you tonight... in bed... It's not a big deal... but my bosses didn't like my face... Nobody... This way I'm scarier...]

He has no problem taking it off, but since there's a stranger who, in his opinion, is superfluous, it's better to wait and see if he dies or not against the solitary creature they intend to extract from Ghasto.

[If you're my wife, I'll always take care of you... Say yes...]

Rando was more than decided; he feels good being with Marietta, so he wants to be with Marietta, there's nothing more to say. He asks as if he were asking his mom for permission to go play outside... and just as enthusiastically.

As for Nick's gesture, Rando is totally ignorant of what he's referring to; he just gives the same pinky-and-thumb salute to look cool. Seeing Marietta repeat it in front of his face, he takes her hand and gives it a little massage.

...

As for the extraction maneuver, there's not much to comment on; at least the cat didn't have to explode. And although technically he doesn't have an anus, nor a digestive system since he doesn't need to eat, forming a hole that resembles one is something he can undoubtedly do thanks to his control over his own body.

With the parasite out, they just have to fight it with the help of... Of no one, apparently, because the man he had brought to help has already left... It's just him and the cat now, plus the weapons.

So he picks up one of the many they had acquired, already fully loaded, and starts shooting like in a B-movie.

Strength: 1d50 = 24
Agility: 1d50 = 38

...

Could you put the spiky armor over Marietta's sweater? It doesn't make sense for her not to put it on for this, kek...

I'll leave you the count, I don't really know what to roll, so I'll assume it's d50
Rangato Clinoclase-2024d6 No.5822 pt
>>5821
I'm having an extra attack or something, right? I'll delete if I'm wrong or you count.

F: 1d50 = 18
A: 1d50 = 25
Rolero Legrandite-2ae373 No.5823 es
3.61 MB
b1b8c1340e8972054d60091551ca54af4cfe1f3000130043bc66287da0305cbe.png
406 KB 520×501
>>5818

It won't be Earth, but until further notice it counts as if I've left the backrooms. So I stand proud knowing I'm the undisputed champion of having conquered the labyrinths. kuek

>>5812
You know what else you're missing besides a weeb object? Losing body parts. I lost my arm, Irene lost her mouth, and they're gonna have to chop off your legs. You can't be a backroom girl without character development! And no, Luz doesn't count—she came back.

>triple backrooms dynamic
Alright, I'm gonna whip up a fanfic real quick

>Timeline where Eiko wins her fight and survives (let's pretend she received the lapis lazuli arm or something)
>The vesp attack was way more severe at the farm than at BNTG, so Marie had to stay behind here
>Irene arrives shortly after, with or without Donny (not important)
>They become friends, being the good weeb girls they are
>Through random conversations, they notice everyone else at BNTG is feeling down
>Combining their two neurons, they come up with the brilliant idea of putting on a musical show to cheer people up
>Being proper weeb girls, they suggest singing animu songs, and amid jokes and banter, the idea of forming an idol group emerges
>Turns out neither has even watched Love Live and they have no clue where to start
>The big dude, a WH40K ultramarine whose name I can't remember, runs into the weeb girls and tells them he knows a Japanese girl who could help
>As it could only happen, he introduces them to Eiko
>Without paying much attention, she sits down and talks to them about superficial idol stuff, simply because it's the most normal conversation she's had in weeks
>She leaves shortly after and proceeds to forget about it, only to find out the next day that this isn't going to fly
>Turns out the guy whose name I don't remember told the mayor and other important people about the musical number idea
>For whatever reason, they thought it was an awesome idea and ended up appointing Eiko and the weeb girls as the main attraction for the show
>With good reason Eiko would complain, saying they should take her out of this stupidity because it's embarrassing to start dancing at her age (almost as embarrassing as it is for me to animate this nonsense) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=78EM4GgJNMM
>They try to convince her by telling her that since she's so short and flat, no one will notice her real age
>While thinking about the gratuitous insult they just threw at her, she realizes something
>If she's busy singing, they won't be able to call her to deal with evil sorcerers or things like that
>Preferring to be embarrassed 1000 times over rather than die again, she accepts
>You can imagine the rest
>They hire a dance teacher for them to learn, super intense sessions, blah blah
>Marie and Irene get super excited and Eiko is like in your video from enduring them so much
>The days pass, the concert moment arrives, and guess what?
>A second invasion of vesps or another entity interrupts mid-show
>In the middle of the stage, the three of them fight without anyone in the audience doing anything because they think it's part of the show
>And when it's over, they all look like the second pic, so dead inside
>The good side is that the audience loved the show
>The bad side is that the audience loved it and they'll have to repeat it another day
>From that day on, they would be known as Triple Backurumu and would tour every habitable level
>In all of them, it always ends up just as bad or worse
Beautiful alternate versions that are Eiko's life in other timelines...

>>5819
>Irene's eyes look weird
Her "carpet of colors" catches my attention more for being so small, Eiko takes up all the floor space

>Abandoned a guy with amnesia
As far as I remember, it wasn't on purpose, I wouldn't mention it for that.

>no friends or family
She has family, whether they want to see her is another matter

>Deserved
As far as I can recall, the most she did was ignore Merlin's ghost and pseudo-worsen the situation by not wanting to participate
Rolero Paraíba Bicolor-96f260 No.5824 es
0ec62a2070535a10ad723ca2083754b60d95b2f8857d3cb3a88c4bf1fa964346.jpg
722 KB 2896×4092
91d84a72a18d82afaacd482ad170aded2cfbcf0f5adfdca8d5407ce284e70d22.jpg
116 KB 638×960
3018ee16e56a15c573f04117436f64807b94ee0164ee6e0c1a708a3f112b5ec3.jpg
34 KB 736×900
>>5811
>>5812
<Marie Griffin (Day 52, Hour 18)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 60/70
Hunger: 21/21 - Thirst 12/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 17 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Super-Cell (Off. Charge 10/16)
Joseph's Charger
Piece of Moth Jelly Filled Bar (2/4)
-Pink Backpack 7/10
Pencil
Notebook
Contaminated Water Bottle (15/15)
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White Cat Headband
Twinkies (Cream. 4/4. 4/4)

Level 37
A teddy bear with no body or arms and long legs. Light flickers a couple of times, you can tell from its concentrated expression that its thoughts are working to draw it without success, then it sees you.

Light: That sounds extremely specific... And terrifying.

If you show it what they are on your phone, it won't seem so bad anymore. They ride in a duck boat, rocked by the canal. After entering the dark (Not the DARK), the lamp's light traces streaks as it contacts the water, and it lights up the environment with peaceful blues and greens accented by the wall tiles.

Under that strange hue, you contemplate your partner's profile, and you rediscover the warm water: She is a very beautiful young woman, her short hair gives her a vaguely masculine charm that you are sure was capable of dazzling male and female companions alike. She notices you looking at her, her lips smile, and her arm makes a maneuver: It goes over your bony shoulders and you accept it, this time when you lean back you are careful not to snag yourself on her earrings. You say "amor," saying it tickles your stomach. She turns on her side towards you, buries her face and breath in the hollow of your neck and shoulder. Her nose caresses you.

Light: Amor (In Spanish), say it again.

She gives you a little kiss near your throat, and raises her gaze from there, spying on you with her hazel eyes. It's so easy to lean in and kiss each other that you do. And again. And again.

...

Level 34
The warmth of the sunset, a sea painted with deep colors, and very dark silhouettes, is the ideal place to gain girlfriend points. With that in mind, you give Luz your most seductive "Hey."

Luz: Hm?

She turns her gaze back with half a Twinkie in her mouth and the other half in the wrapper. Your paralysis gives her time to chew, swallow, and lick the leftover cream from her lips.

Luz: Want some of mine?

She assumes without grasping why you're looking away, and offers you half of her dessert. Whether you take a bite or not, Luz will continue walking with you hand-in-hand, oblivious to your failed attempt at being a charming girl.

"Moais!" You make the noise. Does Luz get the reference?

Luz: D-Should I?

With her hands on her hips, she raises an eyebrow and gives a nervous half-smile. Your mother reacted like that once when you tried to explain a reference to her. Such a disconnect with memes reminded you that Luz and you grew up very differently: She with less computer and much more grass.

The Colombian woman strokes her neck, looking a bit embarrassed.

Luz: Sometimes I feel like an idiot for not getting it right away, almost like I've missed out on a whole world by using social media and the PC too little.

She confesses.

You climb up the Moai, then she takes your hand so you can sit with her. The rock is solid, porous, and offers a good view of the beach. The arc of sand disappears to the right and left, it looks infinite and possibly is. You prepare a photo. Luz repeatedly runs her hand through her hair to neaten it, though she doesn't need to. She hugs you from behind and rests her chin on your shoulder.

"Click."

You show it to her. She nods and says you came out very pretty.

Luz: To be what? The moai?

Yes.

She places a hand under her chin and ponders the question.

Luz: There's no real reason... They just are, like everything. I bet you also encountered random things at level 1, or at 0.

Of the things she saw when she arrived, she tells you about a mini-fridge with PUNCH brand energy drinks, and a mask that spoke to her telepathically.
Lunita: Gasp J-Just like me!

Luz: Obviously I didn't drink anything, and obviously I didn't go near it. I was really scared of that kind of...

She rolls her eyes.

Luz: Weird yellow maze with strange buzzing.

Did your presentation go well?

Luz: I had to repeat it for the Florida student expo. So yeah, the teachers liked it... The only complaint I got was that my tribal outfit showed too much skin.

There's a hint of smugness in her voice and smile. It's an accomplishment she's proud of, and one she rarely gets to boast about. Luz knows those medals in the backrooms don't matter as much anymore, and her spirits dip a little at the thought... Only to rebound because she's sure you'll appreciate it.

Luz: What about you? Anything you want to tell me about your school? I bet as a mediator you had to solve a million problems. You don't need to tell me all of them now... Just the funniest one will do.

A strangely mundane conversation... On top of a moai, on an eternal beach lost between dimensions.

You're exhausted (Energy: 60/70), you slump down and Luz hugs you, and with her sing-song voice she lets out a knowing giggle.

Both of you explore the breakwaters, being very careful where you step among the rocks wet from the crashing tide. Clustered under the boulders, you find pearls of all sizes and a thousand colors. They're too deep, it's too risky to reach out and try to take them, but together they form a crucible, almost a natural stained-glass window that's a pleasure to behold.

Luz: They say sometimes the colors merge and show glimpses of the future... Yeah, I know, sounds crazy.

If only she knew...

Luz climbs a palm tree, so tall that when she reaches the top the shadows cover her and you can't see her, but you can hear her. She asks you to move about ten steps away. Once you confirm you've moved away, some coconuts fall, and upon hitting the ground, they split in half. Both of you sit on a fallen palm tree and enjoy the creamy fruit.
They find a wooden cabin on the edge of the jungle, solitary, lit by tiki-style lanterns. Luz checks her trusty encyclopedia and confirms the place is safe: a natural backroom refuge. The interior decoration is simple: a hammock, a table, and an open balcony facing the ocean. You worry as you spot men swimming and looking towards the shore, the white of their large eyes breaking against their black figures... Luz notices them and reassures you.

Luz: The distance is deceiving. They're seamonks, and if they were close we'd notice, believe me. Besides, they only attack ships, and neither you nor I are one.

With a second look, you'd understand why. The men aren't at a short distance as you thought, they're simply very large, colossal, but it's hard to grasp at first glance with nothing to compare them to. To your relief, their heads dip underwater and they vanish.

They chat, dine, laugh, and also...

It was impossible to say it was a surprise, because your embraces tightened, the caresses left you wanting more, and Luz's gaze ignited like the lantern flames. What started as words of affection and a few short kisses evolved into gasps of longing and prolonged kisses. You don't remember who took the initiative to go to the hammock, whether it was you or Luz. But you were already there, undressing each other. The lanterns highlighted your partner's body like caramel, which this time you could savor with your eyes.

Entwined, you received her, and such was your desire that at the first contact, burning and wet, your inner walls revolted with pleasure and you almost burst. But you managed to hold on, panting and trembling, but whole (+1 Stamina). However, as you continued that gentle sway together, it soon turned into one of desperate passion, where neither wanted to stop, pushing the hammock's fabric, sharing breath, heat, moans, and also, throughout an unending sunset, repeated orgasms.

Insert gap of Marie slipping on a puddle while getting off the hammock

1/3
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5825 es
60e0363aa5ff6ced0b9b5c8e8303902439da5ca0098954c741d4c695c9f16acd.jpg
167 KB 1080×1349
f1b83167d84edd5c07804c43b84014db1c86ae333fbf31911ccb5cc45b613f1a.jpg
52 KB 400×223
112387c2374e77e7af6e8ca6030c1aac12ec97083cb678ffbded1a890811e19b.png
474 KB 600×445
4da447b691d845691e3e79cb998b27114623615c36d5fe2dd179aded084d4e09.png
198 KB 899×387
>>5824
<Marie Griffin (Day 53, 06:00)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 70/70
Hunger: 21/21 - Thirst 21/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 17 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Super-Cell (Off. Charge 10/16)
Joseph's Charger
Piece of Moth Jelly Filled Bar (2/4)
-Pink Backpack 7/10
Pencil
Notebook
Contaminated Water Bottle (15/15)
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White Cat Headband
Twinkies (Cream. 4/4. 4/4)

Level 34
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nF2y31Kt8KETurbulence shakes you and causes you to slap yourself with a wooden plank on the crown of your head. As you sit on the very thin mattress, the center of your face is slapped by a bag of banana bunches. With a sore nose assaulted by a mixture of sweet smells, you grope for your backpack, find it, and open the pocket where you keep your glasses case. Upon putting them on, your vision clears, you recognize the boxes full of pineapples and mangoes, and the buzzing fruit flies. You make your way and, climbing a wooden ladder, reach the deck of the barge. An old engine pushes them down the sun-drenched river, you spot buildings and ancient pointed temple towers among the jungle. The silhouette of a colossal Buddha, and a flag on the roof of the boat, remind you where you are: Thailand.

You see the Sergeant with one foot on the railing, scanning the horizon with his hard profile and sunglasses. You try not to draw his attention and sneak to the stern, but the mosquito repellent you're using has a hint of vanilla that the black man catches.

Doakes: Griffin!

He shouts without turning around. You're sure he has it in for you.

They enter the sea, and pass leafy islands whose only occupants are funny monkeys who look back at them with small, curious eyes. The captain, an American weathered by the sun and the country, tells them they are close to their destination. They spot a coastal town, empty, and a long breakwater that almost encloses it. You dock, and upon disembarking, equipped with your service weapon (Camera), you realize you are the only boat in the port. The captain had already told you that the town is abandoned, and no natives of the country wanted to take them there. Even so, from a house swallowed by darkness, a couple of ragged children emerge who approach you speaking in a strange language, but the gesture of extending a hand is universal: They ask for alms.

Before you can decide whether to give them any, the sergeant calls you...

Doakes: Griffin! You're not on vacation, nor are we an NGO, go take pictures around town, that's what you're paid for.

You obey and fulfill the demand. Apart from vagrants, a couple of orphans, and stray dogs and cats, the place is a ghost town. There are also suspicious shadows waiting in the alleys... Possible thieves or looters. But they only watch, none dare to do anything to you because of the armed man accompanying you. They call him Bobby, he has a strong jaw with incipient beard and likes to smile and chew one straw at a time. He's been hitting on you for a while, and although he knows you're from the other side, he assures: until you try a macho, you won't know what you really like.

He's disgusting, and besides being right-wing, he's MAGA, the worst kind of Republican I'm heavily implying Marie would be progressive and democrat, kek. But he's worth having around for the APC9K he knows how to use.

Bobby: Contradiction.

He suddenly mentions, it's not his usual dirty joke, so it catches your attention.

Bobby: The houses, they're abandoned but very well maintained. Those ceramic repairs on that facade over there are worth a fortune... I thought this was a fishing village lost to God.
Your curiosity is piqued. It's trespassing, but you push open a window and peek into one of the smaller houses, discovering a plasma TV on the wall and, next to it, a gold-plated Buddha.

You share your discoveries and suspicions with the sergeant. He just grunts and turns his back. For a long time, you thought he wasn't listening, but once you glanced at one of his reports, you discovered he does jot down your observations, no matter how silly they are.

A tuk-tuk is unloaded from the boat that brought them. The captain's son drives it and takes them along paved roads, deeper into the jungle. The vehicle bounces with the bumps, stones, and undergrowth that had accumulated despite how recent the pavement seemed. By the time they spot the wall, night had fallen, black and heavy like a thick curtain, with no stars. The tuk-tuk's headlights were enough to illuminate, if only for a moment, the words spray-painted on the brown brick. You don't know Thai, but you have the feeling they were written with frustration and fury.

The gate opens; they were guests, after all. Still, there are men with shotguns guarding the entrance. They get out of the tuk-tuk. The captain's son prefers to turn back and risk the nighttime jungle. When Bobby asks him why, you're close enough to hear the boy whisper: "The island is cursed by the sea."

Beyond the wall, they find a European-style mansion, and in the foyer, they are greeted by the owner of the house. She's the "complainant," someone with enough connections to the U.S. government to get the STU mobilized, or at least to take a look at her particular predicament. The last time they had a similar request, the congresswoman's husband wasn't a vampire who escaped at night to drink blood, but a closeted gay man who escaped to drink... Other fluids.

Businesswoman: It's the usual: bad harvests, a poor fishing season, a worker breaks a bone, or a pregnancy goes wrong, and the blame falls on the usual suspects... The foreigners.

Doakes: Did you contact the local government?

Businesswoman: I did.

Doakes: What?

Businesswoman: I am the local government. I bought the island.

After making a fortune as a YouTuber selling cosmetic lotions and beauty products, she decided to invest in the tourism sector. And what better way to start than big? She bought an island in the third world of Asia with the intention of modernizing it and turning it into Thailand's next boom.

Businesswoman: My venture didn't quite work out, but I discovered this island has... interesting natural resources. Many people made money thanks to me; during the first year, everyone was happy; I was their deity. But in the second year... the natives are extremely ungrateful.

She frowns, raises a hand to her mouth, and bites her thumb, pushing her bangs aside slightly. Doakes tilts his head and narrows his eyes, with severe courtesy, he asks her to show him the hidden side of her face.

Businesswoman: Is it necessary?

Doakes: It might have something to do with your streak of bad luck.

The woman sighs and moves her veil, revealing a crusty layer of necrosis. The dead veins look like roots, though her eye is still healthy. It's not insanity; insanity is alive; this is something else.

Businesswoman: It's less bad than it looks... I just feel a slight itch, and in a few days, a surgeon will come to perform a skin transplant. I was probably bitten by an insect; it's infested with them... I trust you brought insect repellent.

Since all the staff resigned, she personally shows them to their rooms and apologizes for the dust. Doakes clarifies your task, and the woman agrees to give you permission to photograph the mansion in search of clues... You find nothing interesting.

Businesswoman: I'm counting on you. My investments are at risk.

2/3
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5826 es
cb9c5c87cdcd126f451f27cfb4bc4692fcaaacece95043601630fce086ed4238.webp
111 KB 600×600
ede04c29f363ff88c9e40a56aafeb9e6b20c591b510a009cd85d68db46616723.png
893 KB 973×809
5fa939f14edc2dbc53465952cbece10579d5439c8df3a90f894e5e9c9022a43d.jpg
176 KB 587×485
>>5825
<Marie Griffin (Day 53, 06:00)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 70/70
Hunger: 21/21 - Thirst 10/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 17 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Super-Cellular (Off. Charge 10/16)
Joseph's Charger
Piece of bar filled with moth jelly (2/4)
-Pink backpack 7/10
Pencil
Notebook
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White cat headband
Twinkies (Cream. 4/4. 4/4)

Level 34
"Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today," is a phrase Doakes often says, which is why, when you hear five firm, solid knocks on your door, you know immediately who it is. Fortunately, you weren't asleep, but were browsing your phone, perhaps watching a video or some memes, or sending a voice message to your parents, who still worry about you as if you were a child. You were also able to use the government's satellite internet to research the island, and although much information was deleted or manipulated by intelligence agencies, you found a couple of articles that describe the businesswoman as a magnate of high jewelry and organic gems.

You hurry to open. The sergeant is direct.

Doakes: I have a feeling that woman didn't tell us everything. I saw several motorcycles parked in the mansion's parking lot. Remember the lessons on how to hotwire...? You better. Investigate the town and the docks, and don't come back until you find something we can use. Maybe nothing is happening... Or maybe everything is happening right under our noses, and we're too stupid to realize it.

You know that the second possibility irritates the sergeant a lot, even more than wasting time with fantasies and allergic reactions to bites.

You equip yourself with the camera, your high-power flashlight, and the indispensable raincoat. You sneak through the mansion, go down to the dining room, from there to the kitchen, from there to a storage room, and from there to the door that connects to the parking lot. Bobby is waiting for you, sitting on a motorcycle, and asks why you took so long. You move the wires, hotwire it, the motorcycle starts, and Bobby loudly questions who will drive.

Bobby: I don't think you'd like me rubbing my chest on you. I'll drive.

You get on, and Bobby, laughing, gives you permission to hug him. This is sexual harassment! As soon as you get home, you'll talk to Human Resources.

You drive to the entrance, the guards are surprised, but they were paid to make sure no one enters, not that they leave. Besides, as far as they know, you work for the same boss, and it's not like those men feel like deciphering the intricacies of English.

The mansion is left behind. The blackness of the night envelops you, and the driver spits as he hits swarms of mosquitoes. Bobby, after wiping his mouth with his forearm, takes advantage of the trip to ask you more inappropriate questions.

Bobby: Soooo... What kind of women do you like? What's your type, your "kink"? I'd like to know if you have good taste, or some chick that gets you going back in your hometown.

What's your type...? A particular face surfaces from your memories, blurry with distance and time, but her smile and voice still make your stomach clench and burn. They shouldn't, it was too long ago, just a teenage romance.
It's up to you whether to talk about it or not.

You arrive at the town. The captain's ship is no longer at the docks. You explore the streets and unravel the darkness with your lanterns, finding only emptiness and the mournful groans of the wind. The houses are shells, the streets a hollow on the coast, but sometimes a foul stench of death or curse reaches you, as if the entire settlement were an open wound.

Time passes and it's 1 AM. Bobby yawns and suggests returning to the mansion, assuring you that enduring Doakes' scolding is preferable to wandering around looking for ghosts. Perhaps you thought the same, but a glint, barely a flicker, catches your eye from the corner of your vision.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5X5KweDhsaI
You step onto the beach, your ponytail whipped by the salty breeze. You think that glint was the full, gibbous moon deceivingly reflecting on the sea, but again, another flicker redirects your eyes towards the arc of rocks embracing the coast... the breakwater.

Bobby: Hey! Be more careful! This is dangerous, you could break your neck!

You leave Bobby far behind. You notice a pale glow among the rocks, and the crashing of the waves sounds like voices crying for help. You cautiously peek your head out and finally see them among the stones: perfect spheres, pearls of all sizes and a thousand colors, each possessing its own flame, a hypnotic glow that together form a natural stained-glass window, yet it's missing pieces, hinting at a recent harvest, and revealing black roots that disappear into unknown and desolate depths.

You get on the motorcycle. Bobby barely manages to climb on your back. You drive at full speed to inform Sergeant Doakes of your discovery. The speed crushes mosquitoes against your glasses. You slow down as you glimpse the wall...

The gate is wide open, the guards are gone, perhaps they fled like the captain, like the entire town. You tilt the motorcycle and skid to a stop, dismount, and run towards the mansion, pushing the doors with so much force that you burned your palms. In the vestibule, a pale figure awaits you, hunched over with its back to you, hugging itself in silent tremors. When the woman turns her face, you step back a couple of paces. Her jaw trembles in her open mouth, and as she reaches out her fingers to brush away her bangs, her eye falls out, followed by a dozen pearls that bounce on the floor.

...

Once again you wake up trembling and gasping, urgently trying to identify where you are. The sunset is still anchored on the horizon, tiki torches hang from the ceiling. You get off the hammock just as Luz is returning from her walk, she notices your pallor and immediately worries.

The fright dried your throat, you're very thirsty. Without thinking, you look for your backpack, grab the water bottle, remove the cap, and tilt it back. Luz's eyes widen, she lunges towards you, and with an open-handed slap, knocks the container from your fingers, hurting them in the process.

The bottle rolls across the planks...

Spilling black water.

3/4

I got too carried away "with the dream". I'll prepare an extra turn to compensate, as that was the scene that was supposed to be turn 3, but again, I wrote too much.
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5827 es
6cff34e3e12d6edc03e8f573aab234a9bbf8366ec52189d4774a74b777545cab.jpg
445 KB 2560×1920
f61eb358f0aa322e2b683499e319e8b43a88f475e4ecb82c233d62f9458081fc.webp
147 KB 1800×1200
567c9c1ff130bad949ef1708d4b49185b67f915ec26540f326b39b1f4e115a73.png
112 KB 500×500
432bf7440935f83ecc345dd1541b165665fdba16676b3530dd0b5364d5731a04.png
694 KB 1024×1153
>>5826
<Marie Griffin (Day 53, Hour 12)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 64/70
Hunger: 15/21 - Thirst 15/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 17 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 2/4
Super-Cell (Off. Charge 10/16)
Joseph's Charger
-Pink Backpack 6/10
Pencil
Notebook
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White cat headband
Twinkies (Cream. 4/4. 4/4)

Level 20
1 experience point received!

You are blind... that is, more than usual. Luz's hands cover your eyes, she wants to make the place a surprise. But your trained ears already recognized sounds... The waka-waka, the jingle of gold coins, the unmistakable gnawing of a piece of meat freshly fallen from a zombie.

And synthwave.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qa6SiSGGwcw
Luz: Ta-da!

You separate her hands and let the neon dazzle you. The arcade windows play a thousand sounds that are pure dopamine. Galaga, Tekken, a thousand types of pinball, and... Undertale! A drawing of Sans on the side of the window makes you run over, it wasn't the game itself, but a plushie machine.

Luz: Hey! It's Momo again.

She says upon seeing a Frisk plushie. You check the machine, shake the lever but the claw remains inert, you don't know how to activate it. The explanation, as always, is found in Luz's encyclopedia. She lifts her face from the book, looking for something, her expression lights up as she spots it, and she approaches the token machine.

In large letters it asks for Cash, Credit, or "Something". Luz takes a miniature mohai she got during her walk out of her backpack and puts it into the "something" slot. The slot closes, the machine vibrates, lights up, and starts beeping. When it stops, a number appears on the attached screen, and as the number begins a rapid countdown to 0, the device spits out a handful of metal tokens.

-Arcade Token
Function: Entertainment.
Description: A relic from another time.

There are many games, from Donkey Kong, through Laser Tag, to the Love Tester Machine. There are also old consoles/computers in display cases equipped with CRT televisions/monitors. Roll a 1d50 for each game you wish to try!
0-10 You lose terribly.
11-25 You simply lose.
26-40 You win.
41-50 You win fantastically, you shine!

Luz: That one looks fun.

You quickly stop her and pull her away from the Polybius machine.

Luz: Uuuuh, Godzilla for the NES. Wasn't that a movie?

Again, you make sure she doesn't touch anything she'll regret. The Colombian invited you to the place, but this is your territory. According to Luz, there's also a gift shop on the level where they can get cute things, although she clarified they only accept a kind of tickets earned by playing.

4/4
M Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5828 es
>>5810
>And how do you know the worm was coming? Is clairvoyance one of the strange abilities that new, tiny body brought you?

"I was caught by some cannibals on level 15 and they locked me in their ice castle, but a fairy godmother let me escape." He decides to summarize the story to avoid having to explain it all over again, as he believes he has done enough times already.

They take another break so he can urinate, good timing because what he would see in the village could have forced his bladder out if he wasn't careful.

>We'd have to ask someone who lives on level 2, because I found out about the invasion from a friend in the city. Between you and me, and don't mention it too loudly because the walls have ears... My friend thinks the worm was released.

"I passed through a city between this level and 15, I don't know if it was THE city. I didn't notice if this was like Resident Evil 4 and they have a city they call City with a mayor they call Mayor."

Amidst more cryptic details that he has no idea how much they will help him survive, he comes face to face with himself in a duel to the death to decide which of the two is the real him that deserves to continue existing. It turns out his other self is just as stubborn about dying and they end up seeing each other's faces closer than anyone would want when he's about to commit self-cannibalism.

"Let go, damn it!" He shouts at himself as if a street dog were biting him and not a spider's face larger than usual. "Spiders are supposed to die when you burn them! Don't you remember Pokémon?" He tries to reason with himself using his childhood memories and the pirated games he knows they both played, to see if he can beat himself with words since he can't with the strength of his little arms.

After kicking in the insect's mouth, it finally realizes it's dead and lets go. Now he can add 'seeing yourself die burned after turning into a spider and almost eating yourself alive' to his list of traumas. The upside is that he can also add 'I once automated myself, but then I got better' and other similar jokes to his list of totally real anecdotes to tell, surely someone will like to hear them.
Off the jokes, he rolls around in the mud like a gluff to make sure he doesn't catch fire before getting up and grabbing his bow.

"Can't you go back in time too, or can you?" He pokes the corpse a couple times with an arrow to confirm it's dead. "Great, I did it!" He jumps for joy. "The prophecy came true. The bad Marcos is dead and there's no more curse. Surely now my life will be nothing but sunshine and rainbows from here on out." He looks up. It's just as dark as it was before he killed himself. Sighs. "Maybe looking like a little girl isn't enough for the world to treat me with more kindness—maybe I actually have to act like one too..." Thinks about it for a minute, and his pride is disgusted. "No, not even as a joke."

>I took a while to activate my energy reserves. My apologies.

"It's fine, I'm as okay as I was before you passed out, just more tired."

>>5813
All the fires and gunfire around him remind him that the epic battle he had with the worst version of himself was completely irrelevant to the rest of the world, and didn't bring him any closer to saving himself from the bandits and zombies attacking.

>6 experience points received!

"I feel a bit stronger, but barely." He's somehow offended and disappointed. Feels like the world just told him his life is worth fifty bucks. On one hand, he's glad to be fifty bucks less poor, but it doesn't make him happy at all. He shivers, realizes his fly is open, and zips up.

Others around him are suffering far more heat than cold, but it's not something he can help with—he still doesn't know any spells to heat or freeze people, and he'd feel embarrassed trying it with the chef watching. Also feels disrespectful doing such nonsense in front of people who are burning alive.

"Ah!" He doesn't even hear his own scream over the shotgun blast.

He can do no more than the woman who shot him—just stand still and look up as a chef falls on top of her and an organ lands on his face. He still hasn't learned to keep his mouth shut.

The number of corpses of people less politically important that he keeps stumbling upon along the way is worrying.

"Maybe it's not so great that Alondra isn't as important as the mayor..."
His suspicions are confirmed when he sees the mechanic sharing the execution platform with two other women, because apparently they are doing better in politics here in the storage rooms, very curious. Happy Women's Day.

"A...!" The cry gets stuck in his throat along with his breath when he sees how serious the situation unfolding in front of the platform is.

Since the chef who is looking after him and Flametower has the same idea, he decides to stay still and not make a sound until it seems safe to move around without a stray bullet, arrow, or whip hitting him, anyway the fight won't last much longer.

>>5814
>You should have accepted my offer.

"Mmm!" He covers his mouth to avoid screaming and stomps his feet on the floor in rage at not knowing how to react to Tom's death, the one who had the best chance of ending this and getting him out of there alive.

Alondra is freed while he still wishes he could turn invisible. Obviously, wishes don't come true because Alondra finds him quickly.

>What the hell-?! How-?

"Mmm!" He points to where Tom fell, still with his mouth shut "Mmmmm!"

>I-It doesn't matter

"Mhm..." He nods. He feels tears in his eyes but no longer knows for which specific reason among all the ones there are.

To make matters worse, more people arrive to help him blend into the background and disappear from there, he even recognizes one of them.

>Sasha starts with S for Slaughter! And that's what she wants!

"Oh, her submachine gun has the same name as the girl I like" Sometimes he confuses 'ch' with 'sh' "What a coincidence... I hope it's a coincidence." He doesn't think he stands a chance against a Russian of that size as competition, unless Sacha prefers girls.

The dead come back to life before he even thinks to stop gawking and reacting to the others and run away, he's so focused on doing the former that it almost scares him when Alondra suddenly grabs him and pulls him out of there. The girl has quite a bit of strength, to be able to carry him and the robot and run at the same time, although she must not have enough to be able to fight her way through the pile of undead blocking the sidewalk.
From his position in Alondra's arms, it's easier for him to look at the sky, and in his current... messed up situation, it's easier for him to take some time to think about his life, the things that have happened to him, and how familiar that girl flying above Bill seems...

"Could it be...? Nah, I'm imagining things... But what if...?" He squints to see worse, wanting to keep denying the strange premonition he has, but if he does, he might die in denial, and he prefers to live, so maybe he'll try. "I wish I could level up my Intelligence by killing spiders."

> I've never been religious, but... Dear God, forgive me for stealing, for lying, for doing it before marriage, and especially for that!

"Do you want me to get down so you can pray better?" He asks before freeing Alondra's hands and facing the flying girl. "Hey, fairy godmother! You, yes you, the one up there!" He waves at her to get her attention. "Is Charlie okay!? Did he get out!? Didn't you talk to Bob!? I told him to ask you if you could unfreeze a friend!" He takes a moment to catch his breath and check if he has a corpse on him that he needs to protect himself from. "You should get out of there, you're right in the middle, there are people with machine guns and arrows everywhere, and it's super obvious you're the one protecting Bill! And can you please ask the zombies to give permission for me to escape this way in exchange for advice!? Thanks...!" He turns to see if the zombies are paying attention and giving permission. He turns back. "And I'm Marcos, by the way! The same one you helped get out of prison! I'm just saying in case...! To be sure!"

He takes a deep breath and curls into a ball to protect himself from the zombies while the Fairy Godmother answers him.

Resistance: 1d50 = 26
Agility: 1d50 = 28

"Oh, and sorry for not staying longer or thanking you again! I think I would have died too quickly if I did that!"

The walkers don't have agility but it says they attack everything within reach, so I'm assuming I can't dodge them even though technically my Agility is always higher, so I'm going to block assuming my agility is also always higher and I can subtract something from the attack.
And do the BNTG guys use resistance dice instead of Agility?
And why is it that even though I'm also a virgin, I can't conjure an ice veil or turn into a Magical Girl Miko of the Asses?
Rolero Paraíba Bicolor-96f260 No.5829 es
a25de1454bf180cf41766c9bbf5eab4e98c72989278ee33b42a1ae5d7b635ad9.jpg
310 KB 3000×3086
f4404778dea637b92f041def916aee71b45fbc513f6c3d7ff8964a2602e80c0c.jpg
1.44 MB 1900×1415
Irene Di Lombardi (Day 60, 15:00)
HP: 80/170
Energy: 29/80
Hunger: 25/40 - Thirst: 25/40
- Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
- Agility: 10
- Resistance: 11
- Luck: 3
Inventory:
- Pockets 2/4
Bloody Towel
9mm Pistol (2/7. Damage x2. Safety off)
Techniques
- Migatte no Gokui: Supreme secret of self-judgment through the body (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Prevents damage during the turn it's used).

Level 10
Claus is depressed from everything that happened—he lost a friend, another died, clearly not his day. You comfort him with a hug. He lets himself be drawn into your arms and reciprocates, placing his hands on your back and resting his face against your shoulder. After a full minute, the closeness starts to suffocate you. You gently pat him to signal it's enough, and the boy pulls away.

Claus: Thanks. I needed that.

He looks at you with his head down, offering a shy smile.

You asked Francine for a borrowed towel; now you hold it in your hands, soaked with blood from the filth you wiped off. You wring it out and drape it over yourself to keep drying parts of your body. Your chattering teeth from the cold don't help—you feel as if your stitches were filled with thousands of tiny blades conspiring to prick you.

You return to Francine to ask for the orb and return the towel. The woman's eyes widen and she slightly jerks her head back upon seeing what you've done to the cloth.

Francine: Uuuuh... Keep it. You need it more than I do.

-Bloody Towel
Function: Stains more than it dries.
Description: Never forget to carry a towel.

The Eye of Argos shows you pure darkness. You draw your own conclusions.

Claus: Try shaking it...

You shake it. Nothing changes in the image—it remains black.

Claus: Maybe it broke?

He wonders aloud while pulling downward, dragging Olivia's body by the feet down the bus stairs. He tries to haul it into the field, but lacks the strength.

The man from Florida appears with a peculiar idea.

Hank: Scared...? Yeah, I suppose morale's a bit tense after what happened.
the

group:

Nadjela

is

pacing

back

and

forth,

shivering

and

hugging

herself,

jumping

at

the

slightest

rustle

in

the

wheat

field;

Hether

tilts

a

bottle

of

rum

with

one

hand

while

cradling

her

baby

with

the

other;

León

sits

on

the

ground,

rubbing

his

revolver

with

a

handkerchief

and

muttering,

"I'm

the

angel

of

death.

It's

time

for

purification."

The

man

from

Florida

rubs

his

mustache

with

his

index

finger,

thinking.

Hank:

I've

got

an

idea.

I'll

sing

a

song

to

cheer

everyone

up.

Eleanor!

Toss

me

the

guitar!

A

small,

pale

hand

opens

a

window

on

the

bus.

Eleanor

peeks

out

and

says

the

guitar

was

left

behind

during

the

theater

evacuation.

Hank:

Seriously?

I

was

sure

I

brought

it

with

our

luggage...

Bad

luck.

Before

he

can

give

up,

Rosynini

opens

the

window

next

to

Eleanor's

and

shakes

the

guitar,

announcing

she

found

it

in

a

garbage

bag—

someone

must've

tossed

it

by

accident.

Eleanor

facepalms.

They'd

lit

the

campfire

near

the

bus

entrance.

The

crackle

of

flames

blends

with

the

sound

of

Hank's

guitar

as

he

plays

standing

by

the

fire.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EPK9XmadoR0
The

group

begins

to

sit

around

it.

Only

Eleanor

stayed

inside

the

bus,

trying

to

sleep.

Rosynini

joins

in

the

chorus

and

clacks

her

hooves

together—

she

doesn't

understand

the

lyrics,

but

she's

satisfied

with

the

lively

rhythm.

Francine

passes

around

almond

water

cans

and

soda

crackers—

not

much,

but

enough

to

quench

thirst

and

quiet

hunger.

You

take

a

seat

on

the

fallen

log

occupied

by

Claus.

The

boy

nods

his

head

and

pats

his

knees

to

the

beat.

When

your

butt

touches

the

log,

it

wrinkles

and

cracks.

That's

when

you

realize

it's

the

bag

containing

the

glasses-wearing

woman.

Maybe

you

jump

in

shock,

or

maybe

you're

so

fucked

in

the

head

by

now

it

doesn't

bother

you...

Hether,

to

your

left,

passes

you

the

rum

bottle

without

looking.

Given

the

state

of

your

mouth,

drinking

that

would

ignite

hellfire.

You

can

pass

it

to

someone

else

in

the

circle

around

the

fire.

1/2
Rolero Paraíba Bicolor-96f260 No.5830 es
3977c7a15db6adeb9b91edce748270add007eea8972dece38165c6962ec1210c.jpg
49 KB 612×369
930b5ebd8978d0622bdddb5fbd66864fbb12c7eb903deefec59c547417dc8f66.jpg
145 KB 850×596
>>5829
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 60, Hour 22)
HP: 105/170
Energy: 58/80
Hunger: 29/40 - Thirst: 29/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 11
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 2/4
Towel (Bloody)
9mm Pistol (2/7. Damage x2. Safety off)
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Supreme secret of the body judging itself (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it is used).

Level 10
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cBRDt9n5fdcYou closed your eyes and curled up on the seats, using your arms as a pillow, and the bloody towel as a blanket... It took you a while to fall asleep, whether it was the whistling wind, Hank's snoring, or simply the pain in your face. You thought you would have nightmares, but no. You dreamed of a picnic, which for you was the closest you'd felt to the sun's warmth in a long time. You were lying on a checkered blanket, sharing a wicker basket filled with snacks with your brother, your father, and your mother, whose blurry face you couldn't remember. You were small, happy, you wanted to stay forever...

A gloved hand moves you and wakes you. Your groggy vision takes a while to make out the dark figure. It's Leon, who tells you your watch has started.

Leon: The boy said to look for him. He won't be far, he assured.

Leaving the warmth gathered by the presence of people and the running engine, to the outside, where the cold shakes you, was an almost painful experience, it even made you want to scream. But you controlled yourself, it's not the time to lose your temper over something trivial. You look for Claus in the surrounding wheat, and you would have fallen into the hole if you hadn't hit your face on the shovel first (-5 HP).

Delicate fingers grip. Claus manages to sit on the edge of the hole with a jump, then stands up.

Claus: Hi, Irene.

He gives you the same shy smile as before, grabs the shovel, and starts throwing dirt into the hole, covering Olivia's body. It's not a very deep grave, but from how Claus sweats and his arms tremble, you understand it took him a lot of effort.
With the grave covered, the boy sticks the shovel into the ground again and lets out a long sigh, releasing all his exhaustion as he rests his forehead and arms on the handle.

Claus: Are there prayers in your world? Words that let the dead rest in peace? I'd hate for her to come back for revenge, I'd hate for her to hate me.

He asks without looking at you. Whether you know a prayer or not, you head back to the bus. Claus leaves the shovel by the door and climbs up with you onto the roof to keep watch, from where you can see the snow-covered wheat fields vanish into the distance. Claus crouches down; when you sit, you immediately understand why—your ass freezes instantly! But since you're already in it, you figure it'll only take a moment for body heat to work its magic... Right?

A wild memory flashes...

You're with Donny watching a TV show: it's about a survivalist adventurer, one of those guys who drinks his own piss in the desert and sticks his head in crocodile mouths. The guy's telling the story of the time he went to take a shit in the middle of Antarctica. Because the cold numbs everything, he didn't notice ice crystals forming on his ass—tiny icicles like fangs—and when he stood up to pull his pants up, they snapped shut like a Saw trap.

When you snap back from the wild memory, you notice Claus has been silently staring at you for a while.

Claus: I envy you. I can't do that.

Do what?

Claus: Drifting off in thought like that... I bet you were thinking about the past, right?

He decides to sit, pressing close to you to share warmth, arm to arm. Since he's shorter than you, his shoulders end up slightly lower.

Half an hour passes. You yawn. You're supposed to be keeping watch, but your eyes feel heavy. Doesn't help that you didn't ask how long your shift would last, or have anything to mark the passing time. To make matters worse, you left the Eye of Argos on the seats—it's the closest thing you've got to a phone.

Claus: Hey, Irene...

He calls out, after a long silence. When you look, you catch him staring straight at you. Unlike you, Claus is wide awake, completely unaffected by drowsiness.

Claus: We should kiss.

He says it like he's suggesting the most mundane chore in the world.

2/2
Rolero Paraíba Bicolor-96f260 No.5831 es
e67c62cba957b54a37a1fc137683147bfa7d63e154868ba629c0306930ab0859.webp
15 KB 163×142
>>5821
<Rando Roadagain (Day 40, Hour 12)
HP: 58/100
Energy: 44/50
Hunger: 14/20 - Thirst: 14/20
-Strength: 8 + 15 Ghasto (+1 extra attack)
-Agility: 7 + 15 Ghasto
-Endurance: 7 + 5 Purple Sweater
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8
-Trainings
Strength: 8 (5/10) - Agility: 7 (5/10) - Endurance: 7 (5/10)

Level 10
Rando hunches over and extends his hand, but Marietta looks away and steps back without letting him touch her.

Marietta: I don't like being married off like this without warning! Where did the talks, the touches, the romance go? Who do you think I am?

She asks, hugging herself.

Marietta: I bet you don't even know my favorite color... It's purple! But of course, you never ask me anything. I talk to Ghasto more than I talk to you.

The tender compliments make her look back, but she turns her face away, remembering she has to appear angry and firm. Rando's promise to show her his face makes her let out a sad sigh.

Marietta: I'm not supposed to ask you for this... Now it feels like blackmail. If it were up to me... Keep that hideous mask on forever!

The girl turns her back and runs upstairs. A door slams from the parents' room. Throughout the argument, Nick remained calm, leaning back in his chair with a vague smile.

...

Rando should have been prepared and put on his armor... But no, and now he's there, watching everything in slow motion, as the solitary's four toothed mouths approach him. Normal rhythm resumes when Ghasto, now thin, charges like a black bullet at the solitary's side and sends it crashing against the wall.

Rando runs to the weapon box, grabs one of the three rifles with his left hand, and with his right, pulls out a handful of bullets. Several slip through his fingers, and he's left with five that he barely manages to load.

-Winchester Rifle (5/15)
Function: x2 damage. Adds total agility to damage.
Description: Famous as "the gun that conquered the West," it is iconic for its lever-action mechanism.

He turns, aims, and fires at the parasite that was already inches from his face. The barrel rumbles. The creature explodes, and in the inertia, Rando is hit and bathed in a layer of a thick, whitish substance. The impact, and the slipperiness of the goo, makes him fall backward and hit the back of his head against the edge of the box.

He receives a second blow as he ends up on his side on the ground. His vision, blinded by the goo, blurs and fades to black. He stops breathing. Ghasto can see something wriggling in the intestinal mixture.

The solitary didn't die; it was separated into four toothed mouth worms, one worm for each mouth of the original parasite. They are still the same creature, wriggling and synchronizing to attack the man. At that precise moment, Rando lets out a choked gasp, regaining consciousness, but still with goo entering through the mask's holes.

-Solitary
HP: 47/300
-Strength: 15 + 1d50 = 22
-Agility: 10 + 1d50 = 6
-Endurance: 5

Traits:
-When attached to an enemy, it begins to siphon 1 stat per turn.
Rangato Goshenite-bb790e No.5832 es
4ab77997b6ea6add3f3df0b59c0f5db65314d91572509602c359f577d2da70bf.jpg
32 KB 375×469
>>5831
Before Rando could respond or begin to formulate questions, Marietta runs to hide in a room, leaving our muscular and forgetful friend with no idea what he did wrong.

[It's just... I barely learned to talk...]

He scratches his mask and pretends to go up, but remembers that his cat friend is suffering from some nightmare parasite, so he'll have to wait until he finishes his little duel.

...

Unfortunately, Rando didn't know he could put on his armor over his sweater, so he only has the hair of his purple-haired tsundere as protection, which, although it's hair, fulfills the damn role of keeping him from dying.

After an initial burst of bullets, Ghasto quickly takes the lead with a blow that leaves the parasite that caused him so much trouble moribund. This allowed bullets to keep raining down on it until it exploded. The clash left Rando quite injured, but that's the least of it; as long as he can move, he must fight.

Thinking a bit that the cat is better at getting rid of these things, he fires his last burst of bullets from that particular rifle and intends to reload, not before the cat segments its tail into four whips with pointed ends to impale those four vermin to the floor, which it just made shiny and has now dirtied.

Rando
F: 1d50 = 20
A: 1d50 = 10

Ghasto:
F: 1d50 = 40
A: 1d50 = 4
Rolero Paraíba Bicolor-96f260 No.5833 es
287ba3ae3f711b7d4438f3e06cb79e6946477a85b0dfccbcb7936502f702d45f.jpg
223 KB 850×600
dd996a86a187be6155751fd079cad5cbb4ebc2e5bd52a2009013cee7c2c56ec3.png
959 KB 944×820
>>5828
<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, hour 10)
HP: 28/80
Energy: 41/100
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 19/21
- Strength: 9 + Small bow
- Agility: 12 - 5 Orange stellar coat
- Endurance: 10 + 5 Orange stellar coat
- Luck: 1
Inventory:
- Pockets 4/4
Trinkets
Trinkets
Trinkets
Lever
- Small quiver 12/12
x10 Standard arrow
- Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
Tom clarified that there are many cities in the backrooms. But if they're talking about THE CITY, by proximity and fame, it must be level 11. Shame he doesn't have more chances to share pearls of wisdom with you—he's lying on the snow in an ever-growing puddle. Bill killed him.

Alondra’s firm biceps press against your ribs as she scoops you up in one arm to carry you away from danger. With your little feet kicking in the air and your gaze fixed on the sky, you notice the girl among the clouds.

As soon as Alondra sets you down, she quickly pulls a wrench from her jumpsuit. She glares at where you were shouting, and unlike you, looks terrified—then smacks you hard on the head (-2 HP).

Alondra: "W-What are you doing?! Don't scream at things you don't understand! You'll draw its attention!"

She thinks your childish imagination is making you see friends in that obviously anomalous girl clearly conspiring with the icy threat. Charlie gives you a glance, but doesn't react in your favor or stop her silent singing. The distance makes it hard to tell her expression... Surprise? Regret? Coldness?

A white-walker grabs the back of your coat, yanking you off the ground, dragging you from the warmth of crisis into lethal cold. But Alondra, acting like a fierce mother, lunges at it and smacks it in the forehead with the wrench—the metal creaks against its skin. The icy fingers release you, the walker falls, and Alondra has to kick to wrench the tool free. Even with its head cracked open, the white-walker starts turning over, planting its palms to push itself back up. Meanwhile, you curl into a ball, hoping you're out of the horde’s reach...

For now you're safe—stay close to the protectors. If you stray too far, a different tune will play.

Zelanda, the tough woman, didn’t miss your commotion. She squints toward the sky, raises her cannon—resembling a sport bike, but smeared with blood, snow, and ash. The weapon glows, snowflakes swirl and evaporate, she aims, and when she fires, a high-pitched whistling energy beam shoots out.

The energy slams into Charlie right in the chest, interrupting her song and sending her spiraling down uncontrollably, as fast as a leaf swaying.

The veil shielding Bill bursts silently like a fragile bubble...

A chubby chef’s hand clamps onto his neck and lifts him as if a full-grown man weighed no more than a doll. A little tighter, and Bill’s throat would be crushed, shattered, pulp. But a serpentine blue beam flashes—the arm drops, cleanly severed—and Bill leaps free, dodging the second chef who tried to embrace him from behind. The second chef spreads his arms, stares at them, takes a few seconds to realize he failed, while the first raises his severed arm, trying to reattach it to the stump with little success.

You see Bill smile, though a thin trickle of blood escapes from the left corner of his mouth. The grip hurt him, but it doesn’t stop him from raising his revolver and firing twice.
The cannon booms across the entire village, and the first bullet hits the second chef in the back. As it exits, it tears open and pulverizes his chest and apron. The last remaining partygoer catches his brother's body, shakes him, and upon realizing he doesn't respond, looks up at the sky and lets out a roar filled with sorrow and rage.

The second shot heads toward the terrace where Marco Gol is aiming. The sentry manages to fire his weapon a split second before Bill's bullet strikes his helmet and knocks him off the roof into an uncertain fate from your position.

Bill ends up lying on his back atop Tom's corpse, a fresh hole now in his shoulder. Is he defeated?

You glance toward the horde—the protectors are holding them at bay with their batons and riot shields. Maybe there's a slim hope for you after all...

Brutus: I've got a gift for you... DEAAAAATH!

The giant roars as he breaks from the group (-250 HP), charging forward under a hail of bullets. The rotary cannon devours its ammo belts as the man slowly advances toward the horde—not in fear, but wearing a bestial grin.

-Brutus
HP: 200/200
-Strength: 19 + /roll{1d3000} Sasha the M134 Minigun (3000/6000)
-Agility: 10 - 20 Sasha the M134 Minigun - 10 Auxiliary ammo belt + 1d50 = 15
-Stamina: 19
-Sasha the M134 Minigun
Function: Increases die face per bullet spent. Damage is divided among all enemies. If an auxiliary ammo belt is equipped, a successful agility roll above 0 is required to reload and continue attacking.
Description: 6-barrel rotary machine gun in the Gatling style, famous for its extremely high rate of fire. Ideal for helicopter assaults, or starting a revolution in Kosovo.

Alondra compensates for Brutus's departure by joining the protectors herself (+250 HP). Her legs tremble, but she fights with the strength of desperation. Possessed, she plunges her hands into Flame's body, almost like a puppeteer, aiming and pressing or pulling some internal mechanism, then unleashing a jet of fire at the creatures.

-The Partychef
HP: 108/300
-Strength: 15 + 1d100 = 16
-Agility: 15 + 1d100 = 30
-Stamina: 30
Traits:
-If HP falls below 50%, all stats are halved, but dice rolls become 1d100.

--BNTG Protectors (Alondra - Brandon - Zelanda)
HP: 609/750
-Strength: 1d100 = 24
-Stamina: 1d100 = 60
Traits:
-Damage targets all characters within range.
-Grant stamina bonus to nearby allies.
-Each time they lose 250 HP, gain +25 to all rolls, including allies'.

---------

-Bill the Dirty
HP: 129/280
-Strength: 30 + 20 Pegasus Lasso + 1d50 = 46 / Revolver Magnum (3/6) 1d50 = 35
-Agility: 28 + 20 Pegasus Lasso + 1d50 = 11
-Stamina: 30
Techniques:
-???

-Charlie
HP: 25/100
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 8
-Stamina: 1
Techniques:
-???
-Veil of the Ice Virgin (Offline)

--White-walker Army
HP: 99341/100000
-Strength: 1d100 = 56
Traits:
-Damage targets all characters within range.
-Each time they defeat a character, they regain 100 HP.

...

>I'm going to block assuming my agility is always higher and I can subtract something from the attack.
If you get too close, they'll hurt you. If you stay far, they can't touch you unless long-range white-walkers show up.

>Do the BNTG guys use stamina dice instead of Agility?
They work like the bulwark, except they protect each other and nearby allies.

>turning into Magical Girl Miko
Better not. The second-to-last one who did that died from real life, and the last one lol-died from the roleplay. It's a curse.
Otaku con ensoñacion Liroconite-2b0ac5 No.5834 es
9f97028ac0deb92c470d7f96b35cc607b5d3c755ea9cae530e4b6931ac14f090.png
408 KB 1920×1080
d998799ea3d3879861d6c860fa79ec9d3bcd3f05e9babb89d5b6daccbc1f0bf7.png
61 KB 430×430
d364afbc4e38c2e848a21b3aae82f519065190cfc9d18d83d2657da8a18f27d4.jpg
216 KB 850×736
It's International Women's Day and Compliment Day, so all the women in this role are very beautiful kek
>>5829
>>5830
>Irene

"Don't worry, it's okay" The man pats Claus for extra comfort

...

Towel (Bloody) has been acquired! That and the Eye of Argos gives no info, he shakes it as suggested.

"It works!" He shakes it hard, up down, left right, at an angle, nothing "Well... it was cracked when I picked it up, maybe... maybe it just had limited uses" That could be... and he could also try it if he tried again with someone else, but he didn't dare to, not now at least

The group's spirits were a bit low, Hank wants to sing, and although it seems the universe is working against him, he finally finds his guitar.

"You know how to play? You didn't look like it" The song is nothing more than a fight against communists "Hey, I know this one! My dad loves it" Against all odds, he awkwardly joins Hank's chorus, singing was difficult with her stitches so she had to stay quiet.

They had water and cookies, when she takes a sip, she notices the trunk is very soft, when she looks again she frowns at the corpse "Oh... sorry, I didn't notice" She doesn't jump in fright, but she wasn't completely indifferent either, she changes places and sits next to Claus.

They hand her the Rum, she looks at it for a second, and takes a sip too, if she could be a scavenger from the backrooms, she could drink, she'll regret it later.

...

https://youtu.be/I5MW-xF1KecSimpler times, times of the past, that's what she hums once she manages to get comfortable and falls asleep, a summer day, without any worries where the whole family had gone for a walk, they were enjoying some snacks while her father talked about going fishing, Donny was reading one of his old comics and talking about his next Baseball game, and her mother... her mother... wasn't there.

"!'" She wakes up suddenly when they shake her "Oh, Leon... Claus? I'm coming"

She was drowsy, but after waking up with a twisted feeling in her stomach, going from heat to cold served to clear her mind with the pain, or rather distract her with something new to worry about.

Her teeth chatter as she searches in the wheat field until, like Homer Simpson, she steps on the shovel

"Ouch..." Claus appears "Hi..." She says, rubbing her nose "What's going on that you woke me up in the middle of the--" She shuts up again, she was buried up to her neck "Oh... Claus, you should have told me earlier and I would have helped you" She asks him about a prayer "Yes, there are quite a few, I really don't think I'm very religious, much less now... but I remember something my father said a while after my mother disappeared..." She clasped her hands and tried to gather the words from her hazy memories "Eternal and almighty God... for Olivia, you called her from this world, give her happiness and peace, and may she no longer suffer with you in your eternal kingdom, Amen..." She looks at Claus "He won't hate you, it wasn't your fault"
...

They sit on the bus to keep watch; it's colder than a penguin's ass, so she strikes a cool pose for guarding—foot on the hood, then knee up, eyes sharp and ready to leap. In her head, everything runs perfectly, responses ready for any attack. Bear Grylls would envy what she does when facing wild animals; those shows were more Donny's thing, along with MacGyver reruns.

>I envy you

"Huh?... Well, yeah, I was remembering something, but... you don't have to see things so negatively. Not having memories from the past doesn't mean you can't make memories now to remember later. I mean... that month we all spent together on the barge was fun, right?"

They close the distance and share warmth; Irene accepts it. "Memories are something you only realize once you look back. You just have to live your life, and when you notice... you'll have a thousand and one memories to revisit."

Time passes, sleep creeping in as she yawns, but Claus's interruption wipes away every trace of drowsiness, leaving her completely thrown off—like the tactic of saying something crazy to confuse a suicidal person so they forget about killing themselves.

>We should kiss

Irene blinks, her dull-toned eyes locking onto Claus, before slapping a hand over his mouth—not too hard.

"What did you say?!" She lets go. "For your information, that's not how you court a lady like me, hmpf." She turns her head tsundere-style, though she drops the act quickly. "I didn't press too hard, did I?"

"Sorry... but you can't just say something like that out of nowhere to a girl, especially when we don't know each other that well. Besides... look at me, who'd want to kiss me with my face like this?... heh. You're the cute one here, you're like a little prince."

...
>>5828
>If I'm also a virgin, why can't I summon an ice veil or turn into Magical Girl Miko of the Buttocks?
Being a magical girl is outdated—join the idols instead
>>5823
>That video
Kek, canon

>fanfic
Damn, incredible

>"rainbow carpet" being so small—Eiko takes up the entire floor space
It's just that Eiko and her flat ass occupy the whole floor

>As far as I remember, it wasn't intentional; I wouldn't count it for that
I see it as irresponsible even if not malicious

>pseudo making things worse by refusing to participate
Accomplice by inaction, though you can't blame them too much, I guess, since the list goes in tens.
Catherine/Ashley Citrine-45f7d6 No.5835 es
e5b7b4852b736057f9aeb72343cbdb661f58979f173dd5fdbf2e37513caf1fb9.webp
46 KB 545×364
6de1a359b1fdf51b4c510fc1e5bd421ccd6c92a55d1b8baf60c4b27f2bd94f75.jpg
67 KB 668×682
b931544c58ca917aeee38242eff34595a4f2ea41a95bb3a36a4c9fcff5e025e2.jpg
787 KB 1920×1080
f7a76c451567901e33538a30227ee8c64391d3abe6bc6a35d777ac998e4a29de.jpg
27 KB 235×334
>>5803
>Ashley
She runs, as always, from whatever terrifies her. Beneath the small veil covering her eyes, there forms—blurred yet tangible—a prison lit by a powerful beam. She denies; her "no"s are the desperate kicks of a drowning person who doesn't know what else to do when the water's at their neck.

And though she endures it like any other agony, she manages. Just enough to keep herself afloat until someone rescues her, until someone sees her. Sharing the confusion upon realizing the sea that drowned her was a cruel mirage.

<No what?

"..."

And Catherine looked on, mouth half-open, unsure whether to respond after having sworn eternal honesty. Her sadness weighed down the corners of her lips, pulling them—and her gaze—gently downward.

"No..."

She repeated. And in her mind, enough thoughts crossed at once—conflicting and otherwise—to make it seem as if she weren't thinking anything at all. In the end, all that remained was to choose, and though it hurt a little knowing Hilda wanted the truth... she chose a prettier one.

"No... I don't remember the name. Seal...? No... A walrus."

(...forgive me...)

And she did what her dad had taught her so well. What she'd already promised not to do with Hilda. She doesn't know if it was right, and she's not indifferent, but she also doesn't want to dampen the mood on this idyllic outing. She hides her unease behind laughter just long enough to truly rejoin them. To be present, to care, to want to show... and to lead.

<If the food's already dirty, do I still have to wash my hands?

...actually makes Catherine pause, though her expression remains utterly blank. Her lips twitch slightly upward the moment she seems to land on an answer, then settle back into place.

(...hm...)

It takes her a second longer, but she thinks she's got it.

"It depends on the food."—she knows that might leave doubts, so she continues—"If it can be cleaned, then yes. Like an apple."

If your soup gets filled with dirt, there's no point—it's impossible to wash. But if an apple has dirt on it, you just wash it off, and wash your hands too so it doesn't get dirty again.

(It makes sense.)—Catherine is satisfied with her conclusion—
With the theory clear, she would put things into practice. Her guide is that of a very patient teacher, her hands treat those very firm fingers with almost devout care, although they don't need it.

She teaches like this. With affection. And part of that is checking for understanding. The albino's eyes seek out her student, and their gazes meet.

"?? You're not seeing..." -Hilda escapes her eyes, embarrassed, probably- "It's okay. I'll teach you again." -she assures, and gladly, as it didn't let her foresee what came next-

<I'm a weirdo.

"What?" -real confusion- "What weirdo?" -interest-

<It'll sound a bit silly, but sighs I-Is it normal for another girl to seem like the most beautiful thing in the world to me?

"...another girl...?" -her hands grip Hilda's a little tighter, although her expression doesn't change- "..." -her grip loosens, her eyes go to the side, she sees out of the corner of her eye those girls in dresses, who were just making fun of her ugliness- "Who...?"

Perhaps she's naive, or an idiot. Maybe basic logic eludes her due to recent insecurity. But now 'another girl' sounds too much like 'another'. And that, without understanding it, causes her a feeling that bothers her a lot. That angers her, even.

Who would have thought she would feel so much at this table. She goes from her first jealousy to the melancholy of the past. Where food became scarce. She didn't know she was stupid for eating that raw fish without any shame on that occasion.

Hilda comforts her, her hand makes her lift her head and see her oath with her lips in a wondrous circle. However, although she appreciates the gesture, she shakes her head down again.

"It's not that..." -she says without letting go of that hand, more calmly- "I remembered something..." -she explains, looking to the side now as if uncomfortable. She didn't want Hilda to think she was stupid- "I'll tell you if you want." -perhaps the blue one will want to know, she'll ask, and then the albino will face her- "...when we're alone." -she would answer- "ask me when we're alone." -that's what she means, she doesn't want to tell it here-

The fish is cooked, the dogs apparently too. Condensed into a small cylinder made with their meat, which they sandwich with bread. A terrible fate, Catherine must confirm.

<I don't know, but I'm sure it's not dog, or the leader would never have let me try it.

"Hm... I want to try."
Ask, in her own way. If given permission, she would take one of the many hot dogs from the middle. She is surprised by the texture of the bread, she squeezes gently and her fingers sink into the spongy surface.

"Ohh..."

It's clear the bread can be soft, but she's never felt it this soft. The desire to try it grows, but her eyes, fixed on the food so laden with colorful toppings, move up and see what she had unfocused on. Hilda.

"..."

The chair creaks as Cat slides it to get closer and face her warrior. She points the food at her, holding it with both hands. And with a look that says little, she says everything.

"Eat with me..."

She wants to share this new experience with Hilda. To try the hot dog from both ends. If she doesn't want to, that would be fine, and she would do it alone. But if she accepts, the albino would bring her face closer, closing her eyes, and bite carefully.

"Mh..."

She likes it...! It's a combination of flavors and textures so diverse... so new... explosive... real fast food, she chews little, swallows, and goes for another bite.

"Mh!"

The second. She can appreciate it more for being another glimpse than for giving her more space. That creaminess with acidic touches came from the light yellow, the bitterness from the dark yellow, and that almost fruity sweetness from the red. Everything enveloped the thin potato chips with its salty presence, which was the protagonist.

She wants more. She leans in for another taste, but is stopped halfway by another, different wall. That softness she craves, and that fits so well in her mouth, whose shape she would always recognize despite the fleeting touch, and the abundant notes of mayonnaise.

Catherine's eyes snap open. She startles and flees the peck almost as soon as she feels it. Blushing, she looks around with the fright of someone who might be caught doing something they shouldn't. Then at Hilda.

"I'm sorry!"

That wasn't supposed to happen. Maybe no one saw it?

...

Luckily, that went well. Or maybe it didn't even happen you can simply decanonize the scene if you didn't like it that much or whatever. It doesn't matter

Now they could contemplate this very urban place.

<City-!

"?"

Hilda seems to have swallowed a bug as she speaks, Catherine turns to look at her, and finds her well... very red. The one from the forest worries for a moment.
"Eladia...?"

She calls out to check on her. But she seems fine. Though she does look somewhat... uncomfortable.

<I didn't think you'd be the first to admit it... Heh.

"..."

(She doesn't like the city stuff?)

That must be it...

"So you noticed it too... but you didn't want to say anything."

Apparently Hilda already knew this was city-like. She was just pretending to be surprised at not finding something rocky. Catherine understands... she's had to pretend many times herself. She's had to pretend at the meal they shared just moments ago.

(But why?)

What reason could there be for not saying it earlier?

"Did you think I wouldn't like it?"

Misunderstandings aside, the pieces are fitting together too well.

Because Catherine thought differently.

"...I do like it..."

Ironically, more because she's spending time with her than because of what the place is.

If there weren't a language barrier, in the end, the reality would be the same. She enjoys this city date.

...

Cat in the bathtub. There's nothing more dangerous than a cat in the bathtub. She was finally going to prove it by truly scaring Hilda. The door opens, and the little one hides completely.

(Let her come closer...)

Footsteps and reflection are her guide. Hilda glances around here and there. And Catherine emerges from the tub with her best roar. Though to the victim of the white cat, it's just another meow.

(...)

She doesn't seem to have succeeded, but she seeks confirmation anyway. She asks directly if she managed to scare her. Then, the delayed reaction kicks in. Hilda clutches her heart, and the perpetrator tenses up the moment she sees her fall.

She jumps from her hiding spot and rushes to the one who is her bunker at the end of the world.

"Eladia!"

She says, crouching beside her. The little one sticks out her tongue like a dead possum, Catherine startles and moves to listen to her heart. But she's stopped by a swift motion—a sudden kiss that makes her jump and fall on her butt.

"Fff..." -mumbles a complaint, knowing to silence herself-

She lifts her gaze, frowning. She looks annoyed at that overly happy girl. She crawls toward her and pins her underneath without changing her serious expression.

"..."

She hugs her.

"Don't scare me like that."

1/2
Rolero Bismuth-fc5503 No.5836 es
c7e758bc61dfff0ca0c3fc440815a8139eb82c3d07c182902f49833bd2adf21d.jpg
48 KB 768×432
>>5832
<Rando Roadagain (Day 40, Hour 21)
HP: 70/100
Energy: 35/50
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 8 + 15 Ghasto (+1 extra attack)
-Agility: 7 + 15 Ghasto
-Endurance: 7
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8
-Trainings
Strength: 8 (5/10) - Agility: 7 (5/10) - Endurance: 7 (5/10)

Level 10
Rando's fingers, slick and stiff, are incapable of firing the rifle more than once.

-Winchester Rifle (2/15)
Function: x2 damage. Adds total agility to damage.
Description: Famous as "the gun that conquered the West," it is iconic for its lever-action repeating mechanism.

He aims at the first solitary in his line of sight... And misses. The bullet hits the wall and, on the rebound, strikes the worm behind it. Ghasto takes care of the remaining parasites, impaling them on his tail spikes.

Finally, the basement falls silent.

7 experience points received!

Dizzy and with a throbbing head, it's a minor miracle Rando manages to reach the shower, strip off his clothes, and turn on the tap. Cold water falls on him, slowly washing away the drastic juices soaking his body. Just in time, the solitary's acid had already begun to sting his arms and chest. Through the falling curtain of water, he sees the purple sweater lying on the floor, dirty and burned by the slime, useless.

It's dinnertime, the landscape beyond the window darkens. Rando's neck still hurts; a glance from behind would reveal a large, blackened bruise. That doesn't stop him from sitting down to share the table. Marietta served three plates, she took him into account, but she doesn't look at him or speak to him.

Marietta: Someone should bring up the food in the basement... We're running out of supplies here.

She speaks with her eyes closed, and grabs her almond milk glass to take a sip.

Nick: I know what food you're talking about. Leave it to me, girl.

The VK looks at the black man and gives him her best smile.

Marietta: Thank you so much, Mr. Nick! I know I can count on you! Was it hard dealing with the worm? I hope it didn't bite you too much.

Nick: I did my part. The masked cowboy took care of the rest.

Marietta nods but continues to avoid looking at Rando. After dinner, Nick would get up, pick up his jacket from the chair, and go down to the basement to start bringing up the canned food.

-Kitchen
Refrigerator:
x1 Gluff leg
x1 Neapolitan ice cream

Cupboards:
x1 Fish crackers
x1 Jar of moth jelly
x1 Set of kitchen utensils
x1 Set of cooking pans

-Basement
First box:
x20 Cans of lentils
x20 Cans of corned beef
x20 Cans of peaches in syrup
x20 Cans of cooked beans
x20 Cans of instant soup

Second box:
x25 Dirty clothes

Third box:
x2 Magnum Revolver (0/6)
x2 Winchester Rifle (0/15)
x5 Machetes
x120 revolver ammunition
x115 rifle ammunition

Night settles in. Rando, exhausted from the day's work, goes up to the children's room, slides into his usual bed, and hugs the body he finds, immediately noticing something strange, a certain roughness and solidity alien to the masses of the dwelling. Fear sharpens his gaze, and it is then that he finds Nick arching an eyebrow.

Nick: There's another bed in that corner.

He points with his chin to the bed shaped like a Formula 1 car on the other side of the room. When Rando looks for Marietta in the parents' room, intending to show her his face or something, he would find the door firmly closed.

Marietta: If you try to come in, I'll do something you'll regret!

A very annoyed voice warns from the other side.

Meanwhile, Ghasto, who has all his faculties back, senses a trail of anomalous energy in the adjacent stable, a place currently occupied by the rotten heart. He doesn't identify exactly what it is; it could be useful, or dangerous.
Rangato Powellite-a4d0ba No.5837 es
ad8c09dd03257141bb803483df0f0fb7ce9e397824f9eca79d4868299a18f294.gif
33 KB 220×226
fb91ce00c49b138d03eccc52eccba9ecdc298d470ddb4f8a2bcbcce9e53d4b7d.jpg
21 KB 736×718
08116ec384f1e40583c5b65af1bdd5f3ef073068e829f540ca4c9aded5bb26af.gif
17 KB 220×178
f54a8b4254b962ceedd574cf6fc1e0d9f38745b2927394a2e0a1bc1d26327a9b.gif
21 KB 220×220
5b2efd5fafe588f546daeba6c3c55e9ae27d002db79b8dc79a882494f59fa504.webp
8 KB 415×739
>>5836
Ghasto leaves Rando abandoned right after killing the horrible worm. He only looks at the man and notices he is dying... but fine... To which he lets out a notorious sigh of disappointment and then leaves the basement with the grace of any feline. He is... upset... This is technically the first fight they've had, since Rando has managed to stay out of trouble since he arrived... increasing too much the time Ghasto has to spend with him, helping him on his journey. He would be lying if he said that a small spark of hope of returning to his mistress quickly didn't vanish amidst Rando's breathing.

As for the latter. Well, he is strong, he has always been, this is probably not the worst thing that has happened or will happen to him in his life. But the only thing that hurts him emotionally is that Marietta's sweater lies in tatters next to the shower... It was probably for the best, tactically speaking, his spiked armor did not suffer such a fate... but it leaves a taste in his mouth very far from that of a victory.

However... that is fixed with some food to taste... Although not for the taste of the food... And he eats cheerfully, asking for seconds as many times as necessary to ignore the wounds.
During the meal, Ghasto notices and is surprised by Marietta's new attitude towards her protégé. And it's because it doesn't make sense, before the fight they were a happy family of three, now they are four and they don't talk anymore.

He doesn't take long to find her after wanting to sleep exhausted, although not directly because there is still a door separating them.

[Um... I could break the door very easily... But I don't want you to scream "forgive my life" or "idiot bastard", nor "I'll take you to hell with me"... And so...]

And he has several more. The point is, although Marietta doesn't know it, Rando is someone dangerous and of unclear, though evidently shady, origins.

[I... did I say something wrong? If so... Sorry... I guess I still don't know how to use words that well... But I want to sleep with you because I feel safe doing so... Do you... hate me now?]
Ghasto, who doesn't understand much of the situation, and didn't even care to intervene until now, leaves the house to enter through the window of the other room. And in case there wasn't one, well, he turns into liquid and enters under the door. Or gaseous and passes through the cracks in the wooden wall. It doesn't matter how he enters, really, but once inside he asks...

[Can I ask what happened? In the morning you were his teddy bear with pleasure and now you don't even want to look at him directly... Did he really do something so serious?]

Ghasto notices something in the place of the rotten heart that will soon be his lunch, as something or "someone" makes sure he knows it, but he couldn't care less about what whoever has them trapped here has to show him... Right now there are problems in paradise. If it's useful, let it wait, if it's dangerous, let it wait, and if it's neutral, LET IT WAIT. Tell her with the last words in uppercase, if you would be so kind After all, that heart is already rotten, he doubts anyone other than him would want to eat it... And Rando also needs to rest to recover from his wounds...

[It seemed strange to me during dinner. Or that he didn't go to see him after the battle where he almost died alone... Even now his wounds are untreated, so, could you update me?]

There is something contradictory about Ghasto. And that is, if he wants him dead, why would he help him. It's simply because the cosmic cat is someone proud, while his task is to defend him. Therefore, although he wouldn't mind him dying now to leave, doing something halfway is out of the question... Which includes sabotaging him or affecting his emotional state...

[[If you allow me to plead for his soul, I have no doubt he said or did something stupid, considering how dense he is... But I wouldn't believe it was with bad intentions either... I wonder the same thing, do you hate him?]

If you tell him... The cat would look curious. But he wouldn't say anything until he knows why she feels that way from her.
Rolero Powellite-6a0e91 No.5838 es
8b03ba392d566b82b6b5962c4ec23d665b3b5169f509dbdf6cbacd5c31f6a380.jpg
89 KB 636×900
>>5834
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 60, 22:00)
HP: 105/170
Energy: 58/80
Hunger: 29/40 - Thirst: 29/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 10
-Stamina: 11
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 2/4
Towel (Bloody)
9mm Pistol (2/7. Damage x2. Safety off)
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Ultimate secret of self-judgment by the body itself (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it's used).

Level 10
You join Rosynini in singing Hank's song, the same one your father used to sing on road trips, lyrics that would be punishable by death in Level 7's Hive.

You're left thirsty from all the singing, but you don't want to drink almond water like Sue does. Tonight, after surviving a clown, you feel more grown-up and ready to take risks. You accept the bottle of rum and take a swig... only to spit a jet of liquor straight into the campfire and end up writhing on the ground, your entire mouth throbbing and swelling with pain.

Leon explains to you, once the tears finally stopped streaming, that using alcohol to cauterize wounds only happens in movies. In reality, it damages tissue, destroys cells involved in regeneration, delays healing, causes inflammation, and makes things worse.

It doesn't matter if your face gets worse—you're already disfigured for life, you thought.

...

Among the wheat fields, you find Claus burying Olivia. He didn't ask for your help digging the hole because he thought you were tired, and...

Claus: I could've asked, yes. Maybe you would've felt obliged to help me just out of politeness, even though Olivia was just a stranger to you.

He says without looking at you.

You comfort him and offer one of the few prayers you know. Claus imitates your movements, bows his head and presses his hands together, one eye half-open, silently following your words until both of you say "Amen."

Claus: I'm not exactly sure what that final word means, but thank you. Now, Olivia is truly resting. I can feel it right here...

He grabs your hand and places it on his chest. You don't feel any Olivia, but you do feel a calm heartbeat. Maybe what Claus was really trying to bury was the feeling of guilt.
You start to suspect your kindness sent the wrong signals, because when it was their turn to keep watch from the bus, Claus confronted you and calmly explained that you should press your mouths together in a kiss.

You grab his soft peach-like lips, but not to assault them—rather, to scold him for suddenly courting you. He keeps his eyes closed until you release him; his mouth now has a faint crimson tint. Claus rubs his lips with the tips of his fingers and speaks.

Claus: I-I'm fine, I'm okay... So then... I... exchanges glances between the field and you Hmmmm... Do I have to give you something in return first?

Not that either! You're not some courtesan demanding compensation. But Claus looks genuinely lost.

Claus: It's just... With Donny, I took too long asking, and in the end never got the chance. I thought that now, after everything we've been through, it'd be better to be direct.

Out of nowhere, he admits his attraction—not just to your brother...

Claus: I really like both of you, in some way, you're the only constant in my life since I showed up. Now that I've found you again, I feel like I'll reunite with Donatello sooner than I expect.

Claus is a strange boy, not just because of his effeminate, yaoi-manga protagonist look you once checked out purely out of curiosity and nothing more. There's also so much he doesn't understand—not just due to amnesia, he genuinely seems like someone alien to the world as you know it. If you told him the sky in your city was purple with green spots, he'd probably believe you.

Claus: Irene...

He murmurs, and the brush of his warm breath against your cheek is unmistakable in the cold night. When you turn your face, you find his mere centimeters from yours, his golden eyes locked onto you, his hand gripping your chin as his thumb strokes the sutures on your skin.

Claus: What are you talking about...? You're still beautiful, or are you just joking?

Looking straight ahead, you meet his bright, glistening gaze; looking down, you see his slightly parted lips revealing the tip of his tongue; looking to the sides, you're just wasting time and ignoring the situation. You have to do something, because otherwise... the weird, bicurious backrooms boy will kiss you!
Rolero Powellite-6a0e91 No.5839 es
69f0d24de5946e4fc53db7460e4a427af019f860e36cf5b9cbbdd9790a872f85.jpg
77 KB 850×1258
>>5837
<Rando Roadagain (Day 43, hour 11)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 50/50
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 8 + 15 Ghasto (+1 extra attack)
-Agility: 7 + 15 Ghasto
-Stamina: 7
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8
-Trainings
Strength: 8 (8/10) - Agility: 7 (8/10) - Stamina: 7 (8/10)

Level 10
The door remains silent until Rando apologizes, at which point Marietta's voice is heard from the other side.

Marietta: I don't hate you, Rando. But I do consider you someone far too...

She pauses a few seconds searching for the word.

Marietta: Obtuse.

Since she's sure he doesn't understand the word, she defines it.

Marietta: Slow, clumsy, dense... Only someone like that would speak the way you did at the table and expect a reward. No girl gets excited hearing about her so-called marriage as the last piece of news.

She has rigid notions about how a man courts someone, and what Rando did is equivalent to running all the bases without even swinging the bat.

Marietta: You better go... Maybe tomorrow I'll be in a more understanding mood.

She says it without promising anything.

Ghasto sneaks into the room, and Rando can more or less hear Marietta responding to him.

Marietta: ...If only Rando learned from Mr. Nick... He's a truly thoughtful man... We measured our hands... His favorite movie is Titanic...

Rando hasn't measured hands with Marietta, much less shared his favorite movie—if he even has one. These are trivial things, but such details appeal to the Von Karma.

Ghasto stays in VK's bedroom, while Rando has to head to the children's room to sleep in the Formula 1 bed.

Three days pass. Marietta started looking at and speaking to Rando again, but whenever the masked man, with his limited social skills, tried to approach the brunette, Nick would intervene with his extroverted Hispanic charm and steal Von Karma's attention with a joke, a witty comment, or by suggesting an activity to pass the time. It was thanks to Nick that Marietta began exercising to lose her little love handles.
Of the 10 available plots, Rando finished tending the two that had been sown with the winter seed bag. The cold-immune shoots were already peeking through the soil, their growth fueled by the abnormally nutrient-rich soil of the level. Returning to the house, Rando hears panting in the kitchen and quickly finds the source...

Marietta crouched as low as possible, while Nick, hands on her waist, accompanied her from behind, pressing with his palms to keep the girl's posture straight. Marietta, sweating profusely and dressed in a tracksuit she found in the basement—clothes that expose her belly and emphasize the excess flesh on her backside—nods and tries to complete the squat.

Marietta: Uffff... T-t-t-t-ten...

The word turns into a long, trembling groan from the effort. As she stands up, she is so exhausted that she almost collapses, and Nick has to grab her to prevent it. Rando, with his sharp eyesight, notices that Nick grabs and squeezes more than necessary to hold her.

They sit down. Marietta's sweat is strong and sweet; she's aware of it and apologizes as she leans over and serves the can of instant soup into the different bowls.

Marietta: You're absolutely right about the exercise, Nick. I already feel lighter.

She no longer calls him "sir"; their trust has grown.

Nick: If your muscles hurt too much, I know a massage that would be perfect for you. A touch of hands I learned working in Honolulu.

Von Karma takes her place at the table and begins to slurp her soup, though without much enthusiasm.

Marietta: I hope the fruit orchard is ready soon; I'm already a bit tired of canned food.

-Kitchen
Refrigerator:
x1 Fish crackers
x1 Jar of moth jelly

Cupboards:
x9 Cans of lentils
x7 Cans of preserved beef
x10 Cans of peaches in syrup
x7 Cans of cooked legumes
x9 Cans of instant soup
x1 Set of kitchen utensils
x1 Set of kitchen pans

-Basement
First box:
x10 Cans of lentils
x10 Cans of preserved beef
x10 Cans of peaches in syrup
x10 Cans of cooked legumes
x10 Cans of instant soup

Second box:
x22 Dirty clothes

Third box:
x2 Magnum Revolver (0/6)
x2 Winchester Rifle (0/15)
x5 Machetes
x120 Revolver ammunition
x115 Rifle ammunition
Catherine/Ashley Citrine-45f7d6 No.5840 es
5cc7480036f2a4fe0b30c29eca5841eef6ea657f1358c36bab1958b89d3ffa9a.jpg
18 KB 600×751
>>5804
>Ashley
Adorns her little head with the treasures of spring. Beautiful petals hand-picked by someone who loves her to make that crown that suits her so well.

<I practiced my knots a lot.

"That's good... That's very useful..."

She flatters with what she knows, usefulness. Hilda wants to show it, and invites her to see. Hilda's fingers tangle and quickly tie a rope in different ways. Cat watches in impression.

"You're very good..." -and she flatters, she'd be clapping if she had the habit- "Better than Dad..." -she might be exaggerating, her dad was very good at tying knots too, but in her eyes, she's not lying-

But there's more. Hilda promises to do one with her eyes closed.

"Really?"

Her eyes open a little wider at the idea, swallowing the boasting completely, and Hilda, showing that there's nothing one can't do for someone they love, lowers her eyelids and begins to cross, to braid, all without looking. Ashley watches the knot-tying trick with amazement... and ends up extremely curious about the result.

Hilda tied her own fingers together.

"What knot is that?" -she asks, looking at it before looking at Hilda's face-

<Hehe.

"..." -she's catching on-

She smiles at her as only a little girl with flowers in her hair can.

"Hehe..." -she lets out a giggle with her eyes closed, it amused her greatly-

Joyfully, her hands went to Hilda's, to untangle this little mess.

"You're very good..."

But she tied her own hands.

"..." -she smiles at her-

An echo of the words Hilda once gave her.
...
She lives, as another element of this painting. She flows in Eden like the breeze that makes the field sway in a slow dance. She unites Hilda to her moment, sharing that dance to which they belong. And they enjoy themselves, jumping over the pond supported by the golden-green lily pads, like little enamored frogs when spring finally began.

Catherine is happy. Perhaps, in a way she never knew.

Her heart was so content in that moment... that only a tiny rough edge remained to be smoothed. Her first insecurity, which she would now address...

She takes out of the bag she was dragging. An outfit so detached from what she feels she is, but so close to what she is for Hilda.

Thus marches the princess to her most loyal soldier. With the lump in her throat that appears before important moments... and with her angelic voice, which would charm the birds, she calls to that blue sparrow that amazes her.
When she turns, she finds a fragile, pearly iridescence beneath flowers. That with love and shame painted her cheeks rosy. The silence leaves her tense, her small hands clasp in her lap, and her gaze falters, newly discovering a sadness that makes her look even more adorable.

"Uh... Eladia...?"

She speaks to her, in case she didn't hear, not knowing that right now they are admiring the golden figure she had gained. Shortly after, Hilda snaps out of her trance, tensing up, and Ashley thinks to repeat herself... though it's a bit harder now. Lucky for her, it's not necessary; the girl she loves prepares herself, also glancing at the grass to reply.

<I'm not good with words... Nor do I know if what I say will be enough to describe you.

"..."

It's enough to steal more of her attention than she already had. Catherine looks at her, caring, more than anything, about whatever she was going to say. She follows her with her eyes through her sigh, through her short walk to her, and in the instant she takes her little hand, without any resistance.

"..."

She's absorbed, but not understanding. They give a kiss to the back of her hand, and... she doesn't know how to react. It shows on her face, with her mouth slightly open.

<You are my friend, my treasure, my companion... And my beloved, the person I love most and the most beautiful girl to infinity and beyond.

"..."

And... she finally relaxed. Putting on a smile that accompanied her, moved, with slightly closed eyes and a full heart.

(The most beautiful...)

Her warrior stood up, and the princess took her hands for a moment. Looking her in the eyes, her emeralds burnished by joy.

"Many times I wanted to be a bird..." -or a squirrel, or a worm...- "Because if I were a bird, I could fly very, very far... and be free. And happy."

But...

"But I'm not a bird. I'm human. And I have to live with my feet on the ground."

...?

"But... now... I still feel freer and happier than ever." -she leans in, and gives her a little peck on the lips. The first without asking permission, once she turns back from the ephemeral proof of love, she looks... in love- "...I like being your beloved more..." -more than being a bird, or a monkey, a cat, or any other animal-

And then, Hilda lifts her up. She holds her like a little princess, who, even if she doesn't want to, is her best imitation so far. Catherine is surprised for a second by this. But when she looks up and finds the sky and her most beloved star... she allows it.

She seeks the best position she can to embrace and thus enjoy this moment of closeness as best she can.

2/3

I'm not even close to the character limit, but I felt like these scenes should be in their own post. Sorry for wasting keks
Catherine/Ashley Citrine-45f7d6 No.5841 es
aa62fd21d5edd547dd172df5f920a2f98e2b60dcb1301a50674b28a706a803f9.jpg
1.37 MB 1500×3070
>>5805
>Ashley
Even on all fours, moving with the dress is a Herculean task. She jumps, but the animal slips through her fingers, showing what a real cat can do. Catherine watches her leave as she recovers... blows a stray hair out of her face, and then Hilda helps her up, and they chase the little animal across the bridge.

The albino slows down for a moment, walking to admire the beautiful white night sky. But time is pressing, with a jolt she takes off, lifting her skirt so she doesn't fall, going from corner to corner like a dancer without choreography. She could really use a crinoline.

In her semi-dance, she bumps into something, turns around suddenly in fright. She didn't imagine herself so careless, she finds a... person? who screams. Catherine laughs silently for a second, then feels like she's in that box where magicians separate your torso from your legs and head, and she's not laughing anymore. Luckily, she's yanked from the scene like a bad actor with a stage prop.

Soon, they were in a most strange place. Everything was simple, from an unrecognizable fish to her fingers. And even in its simplicity, she could find that most beautiful smile. Art works like that, beauty isn't lost in styles.

And shock art hits hard, like a bottle to the head they witness. The bad moment hits Cat when those who are supposed to love each other end up like this. Evil is cut off at the root by their heroine, no one emerges from the water, and rejoicing is general. Catherine hugs Hilda, and they celebrate without thinking much about having taken a life. After all, it was something like a simple entity, too bad they can't eat too much, it was an exciting experience.

...

"..."

<This way!

Her movement is fast and agile. She spins and jumps almost at the same time, but only grabs air. She looks where she saw Hilda run, but finds nothing. She looks confused... and worse when she hears a distant scream.

<No, here!

She looks in that direction.

"I don't understand..."

This is dizzying... she gets to her feet and runs, as best she can, after her target. Focused, her almost total silence is only broken by a...

"I got you..."

Which doesn't even startle the prey once she jumps and goes through a bright frame. Catherine growls, a child's complaint, knowing that not reaching it was the dress's fault.

She then jumps herself, straight up, closing her eyes for a second... and soon lands, on her knees, hands on the floor. Almost falling.

"Agh..."

She gets to her feet. Looking around, she feels lost... Did Hilda just abandon her?

"..."

She's not sure what to do. Her eyes wander around the place until they fall on the other girl. The pair of eyes meet and maintain contact, and she avoids interaction. They fall silent. Ashley blinks. The painter guides her. Cat looks at the painting. She looks at the girl.

"...*"

She takes a step to the side and approaches the indicated painting. She looks away to face it, looks back to see the girl one more time... and enters. It's not like she has any more clues.

Ok, I didn't have much to add here kek
Rangato Scheelite-00d432 No.5842 es
1674c1ac7ce3a2ffd88f77c7aff75a278d1c8670785fa883b0bd10e975a0f5ad.gif
20 KB 200×200
19c44e42e908d75eb721c639ec65dab69231ba5de0bba63a9e6f48c5c14a8790.webp
34 KB 1120×928
bd2f4f7bb600ee4461bf9b1e0a8c5a6679365419faba8d12b80705b91ab35a88.jpg
377 KB 1024×683
a25b7708f022c95bad1a5028930b4ef040f36ade03996a794f13fc23aa174e01.jpg
74 KB 850×1029
>>5839
Rando doesn't know what he's talking about... Literally, so he asks him.

[I'm not slow, otherwise they would have killed me long ago. But I am clumsy. What is foolish?]

[Adjective describing an ignorant, reckless, or stubborn person who insists on error without listening to reason. Etymologically it comes from the Latin nescius: "he who does not know."]

[A... That too, I guess... But Don always said the same thing and it worked with his Doña... So... What are you passionate about...?]

Ghasto looks at Nyarla. It's a direct question, he arches an eyebrow and waits for her reaction... If this isn't a starting point for both of them, nothing will be.

[Ahem... I agree that he should leave. See you tomorrow.]

Rando, instead of sleeping uncomfortably in a cot, stayed to sleep sitting uncomfortably on the floor by the door to apologize properly... Or as he was taught... He didn't take long to fall asleep because he was as accustomed to it as he was worn out from his recent fight, and something Marietta may or may not know, Rando doesn't make any noise when sleeping alone, not even the softest or briefest.

With Ghasto, things change. He understands more or less the brief scene that gave birth to this strange scenario among the three, he doesn't intend to play devil's advocate, at least not directly. But when he hears that he should be more like the new stranger they barely know...

[I greatly fear you're asking for the moon. Just think about it, that guy Nick was surely born in some Caribbean region where life is beautiful even if it isn't...]

He didn't even know him for a day before realizing it, and that guy is even more irrelevant than the bag of muscles to him.

[But Rando, he didn't even know how to speak well until he met you... What I'm getting at is that humans are what they are because of their context and experiences... Unique and unrepeatable, they say...]

It feels good. Strangely, the cat feels very talkative and comfortable with this problem, even though he shouldn't be. Perhaps due to the nature of it. He is helping someone very similar to his mistress, whom he has to advise so she doesn't get the wrong ideas about her reality... In a way, he feels nostalgic.

[I haven't asked him about his past because who he is isn't relevant to me. But you, who are interested and aren't willing to ask him, I can only call you foolish... You're two of a kind...]
You're starting to sound like a know-it-all old man, even more than usual. Although, there's something in your eyes that shows genuine satisfaction. It's a nice change of pace from all the trouble with humans day in and day out. Ugh... Just thinking about there being one more makes me sick...

[You don't know what a friend is, or a love interest, or a girlfriend, or a fiancée, let alone a wife... you understand, right? You don't know the basics, nor how to play... And yet you blame the player, little Ny... Marietta...]

He fell silent for a moment. Or rather, for a moment long enough to be strange after addressing her so informally. He closes his eyes and sighs because he just wondered what problems Nyarla might be having right now... Knowing her, probably just complaining that her father's imposed exercise routine is too tough or something. Yes, something like that...

[Anyway... Did you ask her favorite movie? Did you try to measure her hands? Because that guy barely reaches and they seem like two peas in a pod... Anyway... I... I'm leaving. Good night...]

Anyway... Ghasto no longer feels like talking... But anyway... He just sees Rando by the door as he leaves and, as usual, ignores him, not in the mood to state the obvious. Hopefully, at least now he'll know what Marietta is passionate about and apologize to her face in the morning.

(...)

In the following days, Ghasto observes the situation and how Rando tries to improve little by little. But the new guy always tries to avoid him, eventually getting fed up with his protégé's passivity towards his apparent wife. And since he is a staunch defender of his protégés, and that Nick is not. He only has one somewhat annoying option left, one he hasn't done since the Heian era... To act as a wingman... Ugh...

[Hey, Rando...]

[Huh...]

[How did you get those muscles?]

[Huh? Why the question?]

[If it bothers you, don't answer. I was just wondering where the only salvageable quality you have came from.]

[Whaaaat? You really want to knooow...? Well, I got them around the time I was named champion of the outskirts...]

Curiously, that activated a small, amused facet in him, covering his mouth with his hand over his mask as if sharing a juicy piece of gossip that only a few would appreciate.

[Uh-huh, yes, uh-huh. And what's that?]

[Oh, oh, it's a small tournament organized by the mafias for entertainment. My Don took me there when I had my growth spurt... You have to defeat several opponents, consecutively, without rest, and you receive the betting money. From them, only the best rookie would be named champion, and the Don would gain fame within the outskirts.]
[Oh wow... Don?]

[Oh, he's the one who bought me. I met him as a child when they released us into the forest to flee, there the Dons and Doñas hunted us with rifles... if they saw you, they shot you. Like that for several days... I dodged bullets like this, look, like this... Ha, ha... It was fun...] (gif)

There's something imperceptible in Ghasto's attitude and it's that he's not listening at all but he makes sure Marietta is, mostly because he's not interested in him as he already said. That's just a fuse that is the first part of his operation. The second came soon.

[Little Nicky, we need your help with the garden and its respective care... As you know, Rando is still recovering from his injuries after you cowardly left him alone with the parasite to do who knows what... You will take care of the field until there are fruits or he recovers... I will personally supervise and guide you if necessary. Rando has already planted it as he should, it's your turn to work it.]

[Now that you mention it... I didn't think it would hurt me so much, but I'm still a bit numb and very sore... How embarrassing...]

[Not at all. You took care of the solitary one yourself and the boxes didn't get on by themselves, did they? It's nothing more than the trophy of a job well done... He earned his rest, our friend on the other hand...]

[That wasn't... Ack! Alright, alright, I'll rest... Sardines...]

Rando didn't do much in those days other than rest and carry boxes here and there, not for nothing but by direct order and scolding from the cat. Which also worsened his condition in a controlled manner so that he would appear worse than those 100/100 HP claimed. The one who took care of the garden and its respective care was this Nick guy, without tools since those are only available by the grace of the kitty. Which only means more time on said task which is taken advantage of by not having him at home.

[Later, we'll go to the stable where the decomposing brain is to find a solution for it, it's only fair, after eating our food and living in our house... right?]

Nick, if he's smart, would quickly understand that he has no other choice, because the cat is much more ruthless than any of his protégés. And he is not one of his protégés. In the following days, Marietta and Rando would find that they have more time for themselves, working on what Marietta is passionate about and with their own stories.
to

the

door.

[Out

with

your

hands!

She's

a

lady,

little

Nicky.

I

turn

my

back

for

one

second

and

look

what

you're

doing...

Back

to

work

and

earn

your

bread,

move

it

or

lose

it!]

**https://youtu.be/R3IUtgDSJRk**

And

if

he

doesn't

like

it,

he

can

always

go

enjoy

the

cozy

snowstorm

all

by

himself...

Rando

comes

through

the

door

because

he

wanted

to

help

and

not

feel

useless,

but

as

soon

as

the

cat

sees

him,

he

grumbles

and

yanks

him

by

the

ear

back

inside.

[Ow...!

You

didn't

have

to

pull

so

hard...

Hey...

What

am

I

supposed

to

do?]

[Fool!

Rest,

or

your

wounds

will

reopen...

If

you're

so

eager,

help

little

Marietta

with

her

exercises.

I

don't

want

to

see

you

outside!

Understood?!]

He'll

drag

Nick

off

by

force

if

needed,

slamming

the

door

behind

him,

leaving

them

alone

once

more.

But

instead

of

an

awkward

silence,

Rando

quickly

asks.

[Could

you

help

me

exercise

a

bit?

I

can't

do

anything

too

heavy

thanks

to

Ghasto...

I

feel

bad

leaving

Nick

to

do

everything...]

He

drops

onto

his

chest

to

do

push-ups,

but

it's

not

nearly

enough

to

count

as

exercise

for

someone

like

him.

[Could

you

sit

on

my

back?

It'd

be

light

work...

And...

I

want

to

ask

you

something...

Where

are

you

from?

Were

you

born

in

the

Backrooms?]

He

probably

got

the

name

from

the

cat,

in

case

nobody

else

told

him

what

this

place

is

called.

[Speaking

of

that...

Could

you

teach

me

how

to

cook?

I

think

I

could

manage

that...

I'd

really

appreciate

it.]

If

she

agrees,

Marietta

would

start

counting

as

high

as

she

can

and

for

as

long

as

their

little

exchange

lasts.

As

for

Nick,

his

spirit

would

slowly

drain

away

until

he's

but

a

shadow,

thanks

to

the

terrifying

entity

in

feline

form

with

noble

pedigree.
Rolero Powellite-6a0e91 No.5843 es
edada84efb0b9ee1dc2d956fc0ee52edcad48a36644dc27dc261bb5857e6cb6f.jpg
163 KB 1502×2048
>>5835
>>5840
>>5841
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 22. Hour 12)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 35/70
Hunger: 17/20 - Thirst: 17/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar + Flower Crown
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of Salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 5
You lie to Hilda to hide your sorrow stemming from the nightmare you experienced. The subterfuge works, Hilda continues eating without suspecting that the slightest lie could come from your mouth towards her.

Hilda: So, apples... Do you like them?

The mention, and your known preferences for natural things, make her think so.

Hilda: I crush them!

She slaps her fist into her palm.

Hilda: And then I make applesauce. Not very often, because I get all messy.

You draw a mental image of Hilda pounding a basket of berries with her fists until they reach the consistency of jam. It's a fairly accurate image, especially if you add a fearful little one watching from behind.

There's no fruit puree under Hilda's fingernails, but there is dirt, dirty snow, the occasional tiny, superficial scratch she doesn't even notice. You wash her hands in lemon water, and Hilda appears nervous and confused about her feelings.

Hilda: There's a girl... who's driving me crazy...

Who? Is your question as you scan the rivals at the other table. Something presses against your hair, Hilda's little nose nudges until it brushes your neck.

Hilda: You smell nice...

She whispers in a very soft voice. She didn't answer which girl she likes. Apparently, that will be a mystery for all eternity.

There's another topic that remains uncertain, but you prefer to leave that for when you're alone, which will happen soon in the suite. But first... you invite her to eat the same hot dog.

Hilda: Sure, why not? That way we'll finish faster.
The blue one isn't good with math. She moves to the other side and begins. First bite: You get a glimpse of her eyes and her flavor-filled cheeks, she chews looking at the ceiling, thinking her own thoughts. Second bite: Now she looks at you as she eats, her nose is closer, but you're distracted by the party on your taste buds: Third bite, a soft wall bumps your lips, a familiar contact between mayonnaise and ketchup... You recoil! You weren't supposed to do that, you look around to see if anyone noticed your transgression, just as hands frame your face and make you look forward.

Hilda: I'm not done yet.

The princesses' eyes widen in shock as the blue one climbs onto the table and reaches for you with her tongue, she cleans the traces of sauce from the corners of your mouth, licks up and down, lingers, traps your lips between hers and applies a slight suction to rid them of the hotdog aftertaste. She holds your head still until she's done, then pulls back as if nothing happened and settles back into her seat to continue enjoying lunch.

Your lips, now pink, no longer taste of meat but of Hilda. You feel a very inconvenient dampness in your underwear.

Did everything really go well...?

...

Date, or city girl? They speak of different things, but the emotions that bring them together are the same.

Hilda: This was supposed to be a trip to learn and meet the sasquatch... Not for that. Also...

Blushing, she brings her hands to her chest and joins the tips of her index fingers, drawing circles.

Hilda: This is my first time doing this... And it makes me more nervous than my first fight.

After exploring the suite, they exchange scares in the bathroom, though the tough one does better. You hug her, she doesn't promise anything and just rubs her face against you. Silence envelops them, perhaps this is the right place to confess the origin of your sadness at the table...

Or not.

They enter and exit through the same frame above the headboard, but they are not the same girls. They fall together, rolling over each other until they are on their sides, face to face, giggling, oblivious to the world, possessing a fairy-like appearance that could only be described as vibrant and radiant. Both want to be themselves, because Hilda loved everything about you.
The bully stretches out her hand and pokes your nose.

Hilda: Boop.

With the same finger she pokes your cheek.

Hilda: You have paint there... And there... And here...

She doesn't notice that she's in the same state, speckled with splotches of various shapes and sizes. Each sublevel left its brushstroke, the skirt of your dress looked like an rainbow palette.

You run towards the bathroom, throwing your clothes into the air along the way. Hilda turns on the faucet and fiddles with both knobs, hot and cold water, so that the golden bathtub fills to the correct temperature. It's up to you to search the cabinets for something to remove the stains, including those from your hair. Among the furniture you find... A giant candy?

Hilda: It's a bath bomb. Only a fool would mistake it for candy.

Luckily, you're no fool, you immediately identified the smell of soap. The story of how Hilda discovered these kinds of objects is curious, she traded a few bullets believing the object would literally be used to EXPLODE bathrooms. When she tried to light it futilely with a lighter, she thought she'd been scammed, but then Charmy found her and explained what it was.

Hilda: Throw it in the water.

Upon taking the sphere out of the plastic and doing so, the ball quickly bubbles and dissolves, releasing trails of pastel colors and foam. At some point, it wasn't dissolving as fast as it did at first, so Hilda helped by squeezing it with her hand.

You bathe together, splash around, Hilda throws water at you and then makes sure no soap gets in your eyes.

Hilda: It's not exactly like a miniature swimming pool.

Under the water and foam, your legs intertwine and caress each other whether you want them to or not, sometimes her little toes tickle your abdomen, stirring an indeterminate feeling that makes it difficult to think.
She washes your arms, your legs, your back. She positions herself behind you—leaning you against her chest and cradling you between her legs—and uses her fingers to gently smooth and wash your hair. The stains fade beneath her long caresses, until your hair is once again immaculately white. This experience lulls you into drowsiness (-10 energy); that's what being pampered does to you.

You had to snap out of it to wash Hilda, a task that proved relatively complicated because unlike you, she didn't stay still—she was active. At one point she lifted her leg out of the water and almost hit you in the face with her foot, just to tell you about the time some entity bit her here or tore her there. Some scars were barely noticeable, but others were clear and deep.

Hilda: This one was from when a the window grabbed me and wouldn't let go—you can still see the tips of its fingers... This one on my back was from a crawler that tried to climb up me to get into my mouth... You won't believe it, but this scratch on my neck was from a skin-stealer that tried to take my skin, but I ended up taking its instead... I was really young, so flaying it came out kinda messy—I ruined it... What? The one near my wrist? I cut myself peeling a potato. It's trickier than it looks.

Hilda had a story for every mark and was eager to tell them all, but at some point her voice trailed off into silence...

You understood why when you followed her gaze.

The blue-haired girl slowly rests her chin on your shoulder, right where she... bit you. A single tear rolls down the corner of her eye. She lowers her face and comforts the scar with a small kiss.

It doesn't hurt you anymore, but it still hurts her.

They pull the plug to let the soapy water drain. The bathtub is equipped with two handheld showers; Hilda grabs one—she already showed you how it works when she washed your hair—but this time she uses it to spray fresh water right into your face. She laughs, not caring that she's starting a new, merciless war: "The First World Rinse."

Now dried off with towels, you search the closet for something to wear. Fortunately, aside from dresses, there are pajamas—and mittens shaped like monkey heads!

1/2
Rolero Powellite-6a0e91 No.5844 es
db87a0ed5a7aaa7f3790df666fc369c5f29b0b37868ec1d6092f9e5b453f9270.webp
57 KB 480×320
8f96382f6548324c144fdf16745735546f9160a085c7b15d4ef3892633dbc11d.jpg
102 KB 693×1024
>>5843
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 22. Hour 13)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 34/70
Hunger: 16/20 - Thirst: 16/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar + Flower Crown
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of Salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 5
They were lying in bed, reveling in the softness of the mattress and pillows, and in the clean, relaxed feeling a good bath offers, getting sleepier and sleepier. When Hilda, sitting on your legs, leans towards you with a mischievous smile.

Hilda: Ashley... I had a sinful idea that might get us into trouble.

She whispers. She waits for you to react, and if you get carried away with words, she'll place a finger on your mouth to silence you.

Hilda: No, Ashley... We have to do it...

She moves without hesitation and picks up the phone receiver on the nightstand.

Hilda: Let's call room service!

She inserts her finger into one of the holes of the metal circle, she only has to move one symbol, the monkey head, to contact reception.

Hilda: Do you want anything in particular...?

She asks you. In case you can't think of anything to order, Hilda would nod.

Hilda: Hello, we have dirty clothes... Yes... Should we leave them folded in front of the door? Okay.

The blue-haired girl asks if you can do her the favor. If you've grown fond of the dress you chose, perhaps it would be a good idea for the monkeys to wash it.

You head towards the door with the clothes in your arms, open it, and place them by the entrance of the suite. You weren't the only person in the hallway, there were a couple of maids, not monkeys, human women in long black dresses and aprons. They barely glance at you, the one in front is carrying a wicker basket on her arm, like a picnic basket. She heads towards what looks like a food elevator at the end of the hallway, embedded in the wall.

The elevator opens its little metal door, a pageboy is occupying it. You can't make out everything the woman says, but you catch one particular phrase:

"...here is the month's tribute. The XXXXX family is grateful for your service..."

She hands the basket to the monkey, and a second before the elevator closes, you manage to glimpse the chubby hand of a baby.

You are enjoying level 5 thanks to the courtesy of Sebasquatch. But a terrible hunch whispers to you that for groups who wish to stay and be respected there, it takes more than just pleasing an ape.

2/2
Rolero Powellite-6a0e91 No.5845 es
ef0df9e6900320de0abce951c2a6b535ed960d5af8ec6cd844196c53d416d7e6.webp
190 KB 1800×1800
409cf65ffd79423bab95d16dc7d0cf34496d3ebf43b7eec373675b412298a8d9.jpg
84 KB 850×680
>>5842
<Rando Roadagain (Day 43, Hour 11)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 50/50
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 8 + 15 Ghasto (+1 extra attack)
-Agility: 7 + 15 Ghasto
-Stamina: 7
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8
-Trainings
Strength: 8 (8/10) - Agility: 7 (8/10) - Stamina: 7 (8/10)

Level 10
Enough conversation for that night, Marietta is sleepy and not in the mood for talking through the door. She leaves the masked man talking to himself with the wood and heads to bed to lie down and bury her face in the pillow. Ghasto looks at Nyarla, but since she's not present, he just stares at a wall. Von Karma glances at the feline from the bed.

Marietta: You're mistaken, Mr. Nick had a difficult life working since he was a child, fighting gangsters and pirates, he even had to gather a million to save the orphanage where he grew up from being demolished... How do I know? He told me, he opened his heart to me in good faith without me asking. Rando, in comparison, keeps everything to himself.

She narrows her eyes.

Marietta: You said so much that you didn't care and now you come and defend him. If you're so interested, why don't you go and teach him how it's done? I'm sure both of you fused will go very far, an exemplary symbiosis.

She tries to be sarcastic with her last words, but it doesn't suit her personality, the syllables bother her tongue. When Ghasto leaves, Marietta is left thinking that perhaps she shouldn't have been so harsh. To make up for it, in the morning she would offer Ghasto a bowl of almond milk, and place under Rando's head -after finding him on the hallway floor- one of the pillows from her bed.

...

Ghasto starts to encourage Rando to talk about his past. The plan was working, the cat sees Von Karma turn her face, curious, towards the masked man showing off his dodging skills. But before she could fully admire him, Nick regains the girl's attention with a question hard to ignore.

Nick: Hey, girl, what's your sign?

Marietta: Huh...? Mine? I'm Gemini.

Nick: How curious. Me too.

Marietta: What? Seriously?!

VK's eyes light up.

Marietta: That's incredible! I mean, what would be the odds of something like that happening?

Nick: It must be destiny.

The black man shows his impeccable smile and Marietta returns it. Ghasto, sensing he's losing ground, tells Nick to go out and take care of the planting, also pointing out that he didn't help much with the parasite.

Nick: I thought the kid had it under control, I guess I overestimated him.

Marietta: Did Rando really get hurt that much...?

She glances at the masked man. To her, he looks quite intact.
Nick: It's okay, sweetie, I'm used to working the fields. Let the kid recover, he looks like he needs it, not everyone can handle the pace of life in the backrooms.

He gives Rando a strong pat on the back, strong enough to cause redness and a future hand-shaped bruise. It looks like Nick is about to head straight outside, but he stops and loudly mentions that he saw tools in the basement. He goes down to get them, and upon returning with a watering can and a hoe, he stops again before leaving through the door, and turns to Marietta.

Nick: Those seeds you planted, I think I recognize the stem of some flowers... Do you want to name one in particular? So that when it grows, it'll be exclusively yours.

With tactics like that, Nick managed to get Marietta to accompany him to work the field. She never let herself be intimidated by Ghasto, and in fact, more than once, she gave him a challenging smile. Something about Nick wasn't entirely normal.

...

Ghasto takes Nick to the stable, where they face the giant black heart, surrounded by a fog of nauseating stench that blooms like burps. The man puts his hands in his pockets and spits on the ground.

Nick: You should open your big mouth and eat it-

He stops, his eyes fixed on a particular glint among the folds of rotten flesh, it was only for a second. He takes his hands out of his pockets, takes off his white jacket, and rolls up his shirt sleeves.

Nick: It's okay, I'll handle it. You better go, I don't need a babysitter.

Whatever Nick saw, it would be impossible for Ghasto to identify without first eating the putrid organ, although doing so would lead to him being obese and unwell for several days.

Back in the kitchen, Rando is on his chest on the floor, waiting for the weight for the push-ups. It arrives when the VK's buttocks plant themselves on the masked man's back, molding to his shoulder blades and moistening the skin with sweat that runs down from the purple.

Marietta: 50 can be good.

(If Rando gets a total strength greater than 50, he gains 1 point in Strength and Endurance training)

As he does the exercises, up and down, the masked man speaks.

Marietta: I'm from England, but I like the backrooms, there's a good atmosphere and a good neighborhood, and no extra costs.

She doesn't seem to be joking. As for teaching her to cook...

Marietta: I can do it, but I'm not really very good at cooking, everything I learned comes from the chef at the mansion, and he was a thousand times better than me. It's not like we can do much with just canned food... It's not the same as fresh ingredients.

She pauses.

Marietta: Sorry, I shouldn't complain. I sound like a spoiled child, especially when Nick and you had complicated lives.

With that, the Von Karma falls silent again.
Marisa Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5846 es
7bc53aed4eef8c15c59cb1e91ef8c83ab847689b8729ff34add893d2bc7b5e82.jpg
332 KB 1920×1080
02bc5ed5b26c03c29736ea2a78d66f5d3421b3a9742ab1f93252a4dd22bc1ea3.gif
536 KB 640×358
>>5833
"Ouch!" He winces from the bump, lucky he had already finished yelling and didn't bite his tongue.

>W-What are you doing?! Don't yell at things you don't understand! You'll attract their attention!

"Children aren't taught with beatings!" He knows paternal absence, maternal neglect, and verbal abuse, but not physical, this new parenting model doesn't please him any more than the old ones.

To be given for the first time what his dad never gave him (a beating) surprises him so much that he doesn't even explain to Alondra that he does know the flying girl, nor does he notice when a walking dead grabs him. For the first time, he feels a bit cold with that straitjacket on. The moment doesn't last long either because his 'legal' guardian acts as a guardian and saves him.

"Hmph." He crosses his arms, still annoyed by the blow "Thanks."

To not seem too ungrateful for being alive, he stays behind until his bad mood passes and watches as the fairy godmother's wings are cut off.

«I told her that was going to happen!» Normally in movies when someone is yelled at 'Watch out!' that person watches out and is saved from being killed, he doesn't understand why it's not like that here and now.

He's not very upset that Bill is no longer invincible, but not very happy that the one who saved him from captivity was beaten up. The war atmosphere isn't very calm either to be happy about something, he's more occupied getting down on the ground and rolling under the gunfire noise as his instincts tell him to remember to smile.

«I don't know what's happening... but I'm going over there.» He starts to crawl, still on the ground, fearing that some projectile or zombie will hit him «That's right... just remember the basic lessons of military education.»

Disobeying Alondra, he goes in the direction of the fallen fairy as fast as he can to check if she's still alive and get her away from danger if possible.

«There isn't too much I can contribute to this anyway... I hope no good person dies... Or anyone else.»

Strength: 1d50 = 23
Agility: 1d50 = 49

>The second to last one who did that died of life, and the last one died of the role.
You just don't want her to discover a third way to die, you're holding back my wit.

>>5834
>Being a magical girl is out of fashion
Magical girls never go out of fashion, take it back.

>join the idols
Being a miko makes me a brown star buster. What benefit does being an idol bring me? Better to blow up stars than to be a star and get blown up.
Rangato Scheelite-00d432 No.5847 es
2a0c04a6c2f363de22f30a18c0c2f6f95ef2d6fb41df04320e2397b7beac8f15.jpg
65 KB 600×800
096d58aeb904f1e4d89bd9834de27bc79865207faee47cb301a28ad2cea96747.webp
157 KB 538×521
2436a27cfae11418827303dbc163a90ae21a6296ad56e501d30c4e1577247c6d.jpg
40 KB 736×648
5a82437e8e90edcc113f800d74820ead100747fcce82f3cf3747224e30cdae18.jpg
139 KB 850×1202
>>5845
Ghasto just closes his eyes and shrugs at the story about this Nick guy—he saw it coming. Probably another Gary Stu with a tragic past and a flawless magnetism for women. He's devoured enough of those types to recognize the flavor. Not his favorite, but it'll do to fill the belly.

[Well... Once again I'll say it... Now that you can speak, maybe you could actually tell her things—if you let you, of course—and without making a fool of yourself...]

Marietta sees right through him, though honestly it's not that hard to tell he was lying. After all, if he's capable of feeling love for his mistress, there's no reason he couldn't develop such feelings for others.

[Wow, caught me... Hm... You know, even if I'll probably feel awful afterward... Can I say something? You look a lot like my mistress. Her name is Nyarla... She looks—and sounds—like this...]

He shifts back into the appearance of the girl who had accompanied them earlier—the one who turned into a child after eating from his tail. Same curves, same hair, even the same eyes. The only difference is a few strange strands he has. Even in the darkness, she can clearly see it's a reflection of Marietta—minus the tail and cat ears, obviously.

[Nyarla Von Karma. She's the sweetest little girl you'll ever meet. Though of course, a little girl doesn't usually have these...]

He points at his chest.

[She's the reason for my entire cosmic existence, literally, and my greatest pride. That's exactly why I accepted the task of guiding Mr. Muscles through this insane labyrinth...]

He glances at the ceiling and smiles, wondering once again what she's doing right now, whether her clone is taking good care of her, if she's gone over her calorie limit, if she's done her homework, if someone confessed to her and consequently vanished... That sort of thing.

[She was born in England with a potential for evil so abominable that I have to devour it very often... But she's not evil, can you believe it? She just wants to play video games and sleep all day...]

Then he looks back into her eyes—and this time, his gaze is sharp, feline.

[That's exactly why, no matter how painful it is, Rando and I will inevitably part ways... Whether by the kiss of death or the sweetness of victory... So... I'd like for her to have a friend when that time comes...]
Marietta doesn't even know him, so telling her is pointless, but even now Ghasto occasionally wonders if that kid with the bag over his head—the only one besides Nyarla who ever gave him a gift—is doing okay. What would Gorefield think if he saw him like this...? Well... he'd probably laugh his ass off...

[I give you my word I'll try to teach her... But Rando has his own pace, don't be so hard on him... Okay?]

The rest is history. Ghasto won't grow attached to Rando because he doesn't belong to his side but to Nyarla's, and that's why he ignores him as much as possible.

(...)

As for the other matter. Ghasto takes it easy—after all, if he crushed his spirit into a zombie, he wouldn't be able to work. What he wants is simpler: divide and pass the torch to the muscular masked guy.

[Do you know what Cancer really looks like, little Marietta? Like this... I know him personally, actually... Though he's not such a little guy anymore.]

And he transforms into a rather cute crustacean that keeps growing.
But anyway, that's just a trivial detail. Moving on to what matters—when Marietta tries to go help Nick in the field, he—still transformed into Nyarla—gently blocks the doorway with his tail and uses a simple yet unbreakable strategy... being right...

[I'm very afraid...! That it's not possible... You already have a very special job. And that's preparing food like you always have, right? You wouldn't want it to taste like dirt or for dear Nicky to eat at the wrong time, would you? That Latino dude can handle everything with me there, don't worry... Okay?]

When Ghasto gives Rando a pat on the shoulder, Rando responds cheerfully and returns the slap with equal force—the kind of thing good friends do—letting Ghasto feel firsthand that he's a machine, even if he's a bit battered. The masked man genuinely has nothing against him, never has, in fact—otherwise he wouldn't even be in the house...

If anyone should get punched, it'd be Ghasto... But if he dares, oh, if he dares...

[Ah, ha, ha... Sorry, sorry. But don't worry about me, man, tomorrow I'll surely be good as new... Hang in there a little longer, okay?]

[Also... Tools? What tools? Well, he wears glasses, no wonder he's nearsighted... There were no such things, never have been. Rando did it all with pure muscle, you should learn from him... Or are yours just for show?]
to

the

side.

If

there

were

tools,

which

were

never

mentioned

before,

Ghasto

ate

them

and

they

were

never

seen

again.

But

of

course,

his

memory

might

be

playing

tricks

on

him

due

to

the

unfamiliar

cold—

not

uncommon

for

a

Caribbean

entity;

it

happens

1

in

1000.

Nobody's

perfect.

[Speaking

of

which...

Rando,

do

you

remember

when

you

first

planted

the

seeds,

our

project?]

[Oooh!

That's

right!

Marietta,

you

gotta

see

this!]

Rando

vanishes

through

the

door

and

is

back

shortly

with

something

strange

in

his

hands—

a

flowerpot

with

a

gelatinous

being

resembling

a

blue

watermelon,

carrying

another

watermelon

on

what

looks

like

a

catapult...

It

has

eyes

and

even

a

mouth,

but

it's

still

a

plant,

or

at

least

it

seems

like

one...

[Isn't

it

adorable?

It

just

bloomed

recently...]

[Rando

thought

you

might

want

to

name

it,

after

all,

it's

a

living

being...]

This

supernatural

outcome

can't

be

achieved

with

ordinary

winter

seeds—

only

through

Ghasto's

and

his...

ahem...

fertilizer

could

this

particular

mutation

be

achieved.

And

if

Nick

tries

to

name

it,

the

little

thing

would

just

reject

him

since

they

asked

Marietta

instead...

who

it

eyes

with

curiosity

and

caution...

(...)

Now

with

Ghyarla

and

Nick

in

the

stable,

watching

the

giant

mountain

of

brain

being

as

disgusting

as

ever.

The

little

charcoal

suggests

the

cat

girl

should

just

eat

it,

and

yes,

she

could,

it'd

be

the

easiest

thing,

but

drawing

from

her

bad

experience

on

excursions...

[Oh,

the

solitary

incident

has

ruled

that

option

out

for

now...

I

know

it's

a

hassle,

but

there's

no

helping

it.]

If

Nick

can

see

a

glint

through

all

that

rot

as

a

human,

then

Ghasto,

being

some

weird

thing,

shouldn't

have

much

trouble

doing

the

same.

Besides,

he

already

knows

something's

there

because

"""someone"""

told

him...

So

this

works

as

bait—

humans

like

Nick

probably

like

shiny

objects,

or

at

least

that's

what

he

assumes.

[Don't

worry,

I'm

insisting...

What

would

you

think

of

me

if

something

happened

to

your

good

friend

after

I

said

I'd

help?

I

can

even

cheer

for

you

if

you'd

like.]

His

clothes,

somewhat

modest,

shift

into

a

cheerleader

outfit

Nyarla

once

wore,

which

caused

her

team

to

lose

18-0

because

they

couldn't

focus

on

the

game

while

watching

her

routine.

A

deadly

weapon.

[Come

on,

come

on,

Nicky.

Go

all

out,

Nicky.

YOOOOOUUUU

CAN

DO

IT!]

And

he

starts

doing

tiny

steps

and

shaking

the

pom-poms.

As

long

as

they're

away

from

the

couple—

and

that

includes

him—

he

doesn't

care

how

he

entertains.

(...)

Finally,

Marietta

decides

she'll

help

him

complete

his

exercises,

which

pleases

him

so

much

it

almost

overshadows

the

gentle

feeling

of

her

on

his

back.

This

time

it's

different

from

carrying

bricks

or

a

fat

guy

as

dead

weight...

He's

more

relaxed.

[Let's

see

then...]

1d100 = 71

[I'm

from

Russia,

I

think...

And

I

say

I

think

because

maybe

I

was

born

in

Germany

and

taken

to

another

country...

Though

Miami

the

Don

never

confirmed

it...

And

how

was

England?

Ghasto

told

me

they

steal

a

lot

there.]

Better

not

say

where

you

get

your

merchandise,

just

in

case

one

day

one

survives

and

is

stupid

enough

to

testify

against

you,

then

commits

suicide

via

five

shotgun

blasts

in

an

accident

that'll

expire

someday.

[A

great

neighborhood

here.

You

must

know

Mrs.

Buttercup,

she's

a

baker.

She's

the

only

mother

I've

ever

had...

And

Ghasto

likes

that

kid

called

Don,

weird,

huh?

People

always

come

first.]

She

says

she

can

teach

him

to

cook,

but

she

doesn't

know

how

to

do

much

with

what

she's

got.

To

which

Rando

recalls

his

reading

days.

[There

was

a

cookbook

among

the

others,

but

since

it

wasn't

a

story,

it

stayed

in

its

box.

What

if

we

learn

together?

We

could

make

watermelon

pie...

Or

try

at

least...]

They

have

their

first

fruit,

which

can

produce

enough

to

try,

if

they

convince

it

to

hand

them

over

for

experiments

that

will

surely

go

wrong

many

times.

Marietta

starts

apologizing,

though

he's

not

sure

why,

but

after

a

moment

of

panting,

he

reconsiders...

[Mine

wasn't

that

bad,

as

long

as

I

didn't

talk,

gave

and

got

beatings,

I

could

eat

three

times

a

day

and

even

sleep

on

a

bed...

I

had

Buzzo

with

me

too,

he

was

a

tough

bone...]

He

doesn't

know

what

became

of

his

friend,

but

hopes

he's

alright,

though

hope

isn't

in

abundance.

And

though

Rando

remembers

those

times

as

good,

it's

only

because

he

knew

nothing

else.

It's

hard

to

desire

something

better

when

you

don't

know

what

"better"

is...

>aldo

I

guess

it's

1d100

otherwise

it

wouldn't

make

sense

kek
Rolero Powellite-6a0e91 No.5848 es
spoiler
202 KB 250×416 spoiler
9caa3d394b10fb8e1283e1f8075774c0203c40db91f949a51ff7310cfa9c77f4.png
105 KB 500×500
9aebe2df100b301176a1c48ee80f9146b3c006076ed18d391627b15a287d0326.png
46 KB 350×350
>>5846
<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, 10:00)
HP: 28/80
Energy: 40/100
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 19/21
- Strength: 9 + Small bow
- Agility: 12 - 5 Star orange jacket
- Resistance: 10 + 5 Star orange jacket
- Luck: 1
Inventory:
- Pockets 4/4
Trinkets
Trinkets
Trinkets
Lever
- Small quiver 12/12
x12 Typical arrow
- Skills:
Déjà Vu: Goes back one or two turns in time. Costs 10 of hunger and thirst.

Level 10
Alondra: "I was taught like that and I came straight!"

She exclaims while -driven by panic and adrenaline- continuing to use Flametower as an improvised flamethrower.

There are many shots, many warning and pain cries, the minigun's firing tearing through the ice and drilling into your ears... You don't want to be part of that pandemonium. Flat chest on the snow, you crawl away. You pass near the mayors, seeing how Malta uses a roll of bandages to wrap the eye of Anastasia with the intention of keeping firm and still the nail embedded, as well as stopping the bleeding. You continue toward the alley where you are safe that the fairy godmother fell. But then...

Something grabs you near the ankle. You turn your face expecting to locate another hand, and you discover that your foot is in the mouth of a zombie. In an act of resistance, you kick, sending the head flying.

Crisis averted.

You turn your little eyes back to the battle. The chef monster charges with his only arm extended toward Bill, but when he is five steps away, Bill suddenly sits down with the revolver in front and shoots. The partygoer comes to a sudden stop, and what jumps out of the open hole in his back is not blood, but confetti paper. The colorful material falls into the dirty snow and stands out with its particular glints.

Bill receives 10x2 points of experience.

The chef collapses at the same time that Bill stands up and continues shooting...

Brutus was focused emptying his rotating cannon into the horde, when a shot opens the space between his shoulder blades and makes him drop the trigger and let out a cry of pain. Almost in slow motion, Brutus tries to keep standing with all his strength but it is impossible not to plant his knees, the minigun slips from his hands, and the chest of the big man thuds against the ground.

You see Marco Polo stumbling out of the alley where you were heading, without the helm (which was broken before), you must admit that he is quite an attractive man... But any beauty fades when Bill removes his head with a shot.

Something wet hits your face and blinds you. As you throw your hands to get rid of it, producing a wet snap, you look and recognize it as a brain.

You hear a metallic groan. You move your face toward the origin by reflex. At a dozen meters away you discover Bill aiming at you with the magnum revolver.

Bill: "Wouldn't kill a kid, would he? Or would he?"

Questioning the air, two seconds later he pulls the trigger. The mechanism sounds, but the barrel remains silent, empty. Bill shrugs and throws the gun into the snow.

1/2
Rolero Powellite-6a0e91 No.5849 es
126f3ac2f7ff64700cd6783c7560f18f04f43a7b6031d171868157dafc73f6af.jpg
80 KB 1440×1080
b60a4abe23d37df46fe6b94fa321c937039058d323d4f5f70814d471f5a72f11.jpg
88 KB 550×860
>>5848
<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, hour 10)
HP: 28/80
Energy: 39/100
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 19/21
-Strength: 9 + Small bow
-Agility: 12 - 5 Orange star cloak
-Endurance: 10 + 5 Orange star cloak
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Trinket
Trinket
Trinket
Lever
-Small quiver 12/12
x12 Standard arrow
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
Five Protectors break from the front line to avenge Brandon's death. Bill swings and crackles his whip, slicing the first one's ankles, steps back and spins the lasso into a circle—a Protector tries jumping through the middle... fails. The lasso snaps shut, and the girl's severed pieces roll across the ground.

The military knife of the third Sentinel grazes the bandit's temple; he reacts by jerking his head back just before the blade breaks skin, and the lasso does its work, splitting the attacker's torso from hips.

During this last exchange, Bill left his right flank exposed—a bat slams into it, snapping his head sideways and knocking him down onto a snow mound. The surviving Protectors start kicking and stomping him, but you don't stay to watch. You crawl forward, passing by Marco Gol's corpse, until you reach the fairy.

The fairy has a bump on her head and her chest scorched, but she's still alive. You grab her shoulders, intending to drag her to cover or something, but notice her features trembling, her eyes opening. As she realizes she's fallen, and sees you clearly, her gaze moistens, tears welling up.

Charlie: M-M-Marko?

She recognizes you despite your new body.

Charlie: It's me, Charly... I-I just wanted... I just wanted to feel good being myself!

She can't hold it anymore—she bursts into tears and hugs you, burying her face in your chest, seeking shelter. Hormones, and everything you've been through, shatter your emotional dam, and you start crying too, sobbing uncontrollably over life.
And there you were, drenched in each other's tears, when a series of claps cuts through the moment. They're slow, heavy claps—the antithesis of celebration. You glance over your shoulder and see a man standing at the entrance of the alley. An old man with a white beard, a pointed hat adorned with astrological symbols, and office worker's clothes. He looks angry, but the strangest thing is that he casts no shadow.

???: So there you are, ungrateful little vermin.

Charlicito trembles and turns pale at the sight of him.

???: I gave you everything of me—literally, you're dust from my rib! And this is how you repay me? Sneaking off and making deals on your own? May thousands of curses and plagues fall upon you!

He fixes his gaze on you, and in his eyes there's also a flicker of recognition toward your secret.

???: Am I, the Great Merlin himself, the only one who didn't get a new body? Were they on sale and nobody told me? Were they doing bulk deals, buy two get one free?! Wait... There's something off about you...

Your teeth are perfect; you don't understand what he's getting at. The supposed Merlin's eyes widen in horror and he rushes toward you, trying to grab your shoulders and shake you, but his fingers pass through you like cold air.

Merlin: What did you offer the Right?! Answer me!

-Brutus
HP: 0/200
-Strength: 19
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 19

--Protectors of the BNTG (Alondra - Zelanda)
HP: 375/750
-Strength: 1d100 = 4 + 25 fury
-Endurance: 1d100 = 31 + 25 fury
Traits:
-Damage affects all characters within range.
-Grant endurance to allies within range.
-Each time they lose 250 HP, gain +25 to all rolls including allies'

---------

-Bill the Dirty
HP: 117/280
-Strength: 31 + 20 Pegasus Lasso + 1d50 = 7
-Agility: 31 + 20 Pegasus Lasso + 1d50 = 2
-Endurance: 33
Techniques:
-???

-Charlie
HP: 25/100
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 8
-Endurance: 1
Techniques:
-???
-Veil of the Ice Virgin (Off)

--White-walker Army
HP: 99076/100000
-Strength: 1d100 = 9
Traits:
-Damage affects all characters within range.
-Each time they defeat a character, they recover 100 HP.

2/2
Rolero Powellite-6a0e91 No.5850 es
a8e4d565a61a72462a524e997d3a54b63e2a5a841b08af2afbc6c252d80aac84.jpg
49 KB 300×400
>>5847
<Rando Roadagain (Day 43, Hour 11)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 50/50
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 8 + 14 Ghasto (+1 extra attack)
-Agility: 7 + 14 Ghasto
-Stamina: 7
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8
-Trainings
Strength: 8 (9/10) - Agility: 7 (8/10) - Stamina: 7 (9/10)

Level 10
Ghasto takes Nyarla's form to make his particular comparison.

Marietta: I don't look like that!

She lets out sharp whimpers and starts kicking on the mattress.

Marietta: My chest isn't that prominent!

A lie.

Marietta: And my butt isn't that fat!

Another lie.

Marietta: What a coincidence, I was also born in England. Maybe we even met...! No, wait, I would remember if we had. Silly me.

Ghasto will leave when Rando dies or finds happiness, whichever comes first. But Nick seems to be an obstacle to the masked man's happiness, which is why Ghasto is plotting to get rid of him.

Nick: Without tools? What are you talking about? I have one right in my hand.

He raises the hoe and smiles. He found the tools among the shelves downstairs, including a wheelbarrow to carry them all. There was no indication that Ghasto ate them. The black man lifts the wheelbarrow, loaded with garden tools including a couple of machetes, and places everything in front of the house.

While Nick takes care of the plots, Ghasto has Rando bring a mutant plant that's half catapult, half watermelon. The VK's face lights up when she sees it.

Marietta: Ooooh, how opportune.

She picks it up and gives it a couple of pets, guides it towards the countertops, and lets go so the watermelon enters the wide glass of the blender. Marietta seals the lid of the glass, turns the knob, and what was once a plant becomes a thick bluish mixture.

Marietta: Now that we have power, we can use all the appliances!

She exclaims so her voice can be heard over the sound of the blender. She turns off the appliance, serves three glasses and a mug. Perhaps Ghasto will be depressed to see that the matter he consumed (-1) to bring the watermelon into the world has now become a mere snack.

Marietta: What's wrong? Did I do something wrong? Don't tell me you're allergic to watermelons.

The purple-haired girl is confused to see them so quiet, but her bewilderment vanishes when she tastes the juice. She licks her lips, it's delicious. Perhaps the duo will have better luck with mutant plants if they let Marietta know in advance that they are not single-use.

...
Nick smokes a cigar, paying no attention to Ghasto's choreography. When the tobacco burns down to the nub, he tosses it on the ground and stomps it out. He walks towards the heart of the rot, submerges himself, but rather than cleaning himself, it seems he's looking for something... He returns ten minutes later, holding a disc covered in a thick layer of coagulated blood, which he scrapes off with a vigorous shake. A plastic farmer is revealed in the center of the disc.

It looks like a toy. Aside from its stench from where it was, it exudes a certain anomalous energy. The disc is divided into animal panels, all normal, except there's a space for humans, and another showing a skull with two crossed tibias. Maybe it's "Pirate Says Aaarg"?

Nick: Here, try it to see if it works.

He hands it to Ghasto.

Nick: I'm going to take a shower.

The Black man retreats without a word, seemingly having lost his initial interest in the object. Ghasto, now with stained hands, can examine the "toy" more closely. The illustrations look dirty and are drawn with harsh lines, but he can identify the animals they attempt to depict:
1-Human
2-Rooster
3-Sheep
4-Dog
5-Cat
6-Horse
7-Cow
8-Pig
9-Abomination
10-Dead Man

The abomination is just a dark smudge. Ghasto could use a 1d10 die and try to see what happens, even spend 1 Rando luck to ensure the farmer points to the space of his preference. The masked man would barely notice the missing point, he's focused on doing push-ups with Marietta on his back.

Marietta: Russia? I'd like to say I'd like to go, but I've had enough of cold climates... Huh? R-robbery? Not at all. England is the safest place in the world, with very polite and very kind people, where there was never a shortage of tea or biscuits. I adored my stepfather, I wanted to marry him... Maybe I would have if I hadn't ended up here.

She lets out a sigh of longing, rests her chin on her palm, and loses herself in her memories.

Marietta: I barely had a chance to meet people from the wheat field, I fell asleep. And now we're trapped apparently forever... It's not so bad, let me explain, there's no need or lack that bothers me... I hope it stays that way, or everything could get worse.

She agrees to consult the cookbook later, but first Rando must finish his push-ups. Marietta counts... 30... 40... 50! Bingo!

1/2

>I imagine it's 1d100 because otherwise it wouldn't make sense
Yeah, I messed up. I should have asked for a minimum of 25 and a 1d50 roll. But I'll count it as good anyway.
Rolero Powellite-6a0e91 No.5851 es
0b2eabdb38349416d624adb79fcdf97db66f6b2eff1038e2eedfde013fa8abb5.jpg
89 KB 1280×720
>>5850
<Rando Roadagain (Day 49, Hour 23)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 50/50
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 9 + 14 Ghasto (+1 extra attack)
-Agility: 8 + 14 Ghasto
-Endurance: 8
-Luck: 4
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8
-Trainings
Strength: 9 (5/10) - Agility: 8 (4/10) - Endurance: 8 (5/10)

Level 10
Six days pass.

The stems of the planting were already tall and bulbous, a few hours away from revealing what type of fruit, vegetable, or flower they belonged to. Who knows? Perhaps one of the ingredients Rando needs to prepare a particular dish from the recipe book will bloom. Time will tell.

-Kitchen
Refrigerator:
x1 Jar of moth jelly

Cupboards:
x4 Cans of lentils
x6 Cans of corned beef
x5 Cans of peaches in syrup
x7 Cans of cooked legumes
x5 Boxes of instant soup
x1 Set of kitchen utensils
x1 Set of frying pans

-Basement
First box:
x10 Cans of lentils
x10 Cans of corned beef
x10 Cans of peaches in syrup
x10 Cans of cooked legumes
x10 Boxes of instant soup

Second box:
x22 Dirty clothes

Third box:
x2 Magnum Revolver (0/6)
x2 Winchester Rifle (0/15)
x3 Machetes
x120 rounds for revolver
x115 rounds for rifle

???: Wake up.

Something moves the masked man. Upon opening his eyes, he discovers it's Nick nudging him with his foot. Rando gets up from the floor of the hallway.

Nick: I heard mule hooves outside, maybe it's that mysterious merchant they told me about, the one who brought you the jug. I'll follow you.

They go down the stairs, follow the path to the front of the house, and continue around the property for a while longer, but there's no sign of the merchant. As Rando turns to go back to sleep, a machete is driven into the snow between his feet, and Nick points at him with another and a smile.

Nick: Pick it up. I won't ask twice.

With his other hand, he grabs Rando's shirt and rips it in a single motion, tearing the fabric, exposing his muscles and tattoos to the cold. The ink seems to move, as if the thick lines were rippling.

Nick: I wanted to wait until you were a bit more seasoned, kid. Like waiting for a mango to ripen to eat it... But that cat wouldn't stop fucking around and getting in my way, so I decided to move my plans forward... I'll kill you now, because only the real man in this ridiculous prison will get the girl.

Without waiting for a response, Nick lunges at Rando.

-Nick Tarragona
HP: 190/190
-Strength: 21 + 15 Machete (+5 blunt force) + 1d50 = 31
-Agility: 19 + 1d50 = 37
-Endurance: 22
Techniques:
???

2/2
Otaku con ensoñacion Andradite-8a0d3d No.5852 es
10519ad5f0d754bd4ca6adad6966327dd80d248659ef410028c0f4231d67d1d6.gif
1.67 MB 640×360
2dd4aecf0693b642fdaec7fb1f81f1c24bcf16684b1418f57c67be9005384bec.jpg
182 KB 540×480
bf65c81636027ec07bdcf29625dd2b40a6a01523f4ee9739da02298c5eb40512.png
1.77 MB 2716×1980
7cdbb67356c3676d478fd697f4e2f7b64fd9cb6197738a47ec08ebe903f3b651.png
275 KB 672×1197
>>5838
>Irene

Drinking to get older was a bad idea, and the elders are reminding her of it, maybe she would pay attention if she wasn't writhing on the floor in pain, this somehow, was all the fault of the storage units and not hers.

...

>Maybe you would have felt obligated to help me just out of courtesy, even though Olivia was just a stranger to you

"Well... I..." She wants to find something to contradict that statement, but she couldn't "...yes, you're not wrong, I would have done it out of courtesy, Donny too... but even if it's just out of courtesy, she was a person, even a stranger, the least respect you can give is to bury her... or at least I think my brother would say, 'damn nerd, he read too many comics'"

They pray for Olivia and close with an Amen.

"It's something like a shorter way of saying 'truly', like you can use it to affirm something, but you know, when you pray and all that" Her religious knowledge was rusty after straying from the hand of god towards anime. She touches Claus's chest, feels his heart "If that's how you feel, it's good to have peace in your heart"

And speaking of hearts, she rejects the courtship attempt.

"Neither, I don't want any gifts. Being kind and considerate is good for winning a girl's heart but that doesn't guarantee she'll accept you"

Claus then confesses his feelings, she's not surprised by the part about liking her brother, she remembers those suspicious moments very well, but that he likes her does surprise her, enough to make her cut cheeks blush.

"Well, if you say so, I, uh, well, hmmm" Now her brain starts to short-circuit and evade the dialogue "If you say so, I won't be winning any beauty contests like this..." What the hell was she saying, not even she knew and to make matters worse he gets even closer to her, tempting her with his soft lips and gentle pretty boy figure.

...

Irene stops him by placing her hands on Claus's shoulders, and leans in... giving him a kiss on the forehead, and pulls away.

"Ok... l-let's go slower, ok?" She wants to steer things better "If you love me and Donny, that's fine, I can't change your feelings, but speaking of me... I don't think I can love you that way. You see, there's a difference between 'loving' and 'liking', you love someone you want to kiss, with whom you want to spend the rest of your life, but you can like many people, I like my parents, and I like Donny a lot, but I couldn't love them in the other way" She explains "But you Claus, we've been together for a while, and you're a very sweet guy, I like you, but I can't love you the way you say you love me... if you really feel that way, I think you should take some time to, you know, properly identify what you feel"

"But we were together in the Draga, and now we're together again here, maybe the storage units want us to be together, so there's nothing to be done about that. If we're going to be together... it's like we're family, don't you think?" She takes the boy's hands, and looks him in the eyes "Do you want to be part of my family, Claus? You can have my last name" She puffs out her chest proudly "And I'll give you permission to call me 'big sister' and all, feel honored"
Rolero Powellite-6a0e91 No.5853 es
2e6b3f94203cd292d836325e8ddbf69787ebcf864b1266508c3991dab276bde0.webp
29 KB 800×449
c06aafdc21e1365280cf37f390f640585c159f53d34bb5d9393014e6172f191b.jpg
26 KB 506×810
>>5852
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 67, Hour 10)
HP: 105/170
Energy: 70/80
Hunger: 40/40 - Thirst: 40/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 11
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 2/4
Towel (Bloody)
9mm Pistol (7/7. Damage x2. Safety off)
Techniques
-Ultra Instinct: Maximum secret of the body's judgment on its own (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it is used).

Level 10
You already suspected Claus had overly affectionate attitudes towards Donny, the Backrooms will know what happened during the days you left them alone... But you didn't expect the boy's feelings to involve you too. Now his lips are cornering you, and the closer they get, the more you blush and blurt out nonsense. It's not normal for situations like these to make you more nervous than fighting a psychopathic clown.

You manage to react, you stop his shoulders and plant a kiss on his forehead before pulling away. Claus's lips form a pout of confusion.

Claus: Did you aim wrong?

You want to go slower.

Claus: I can do it.

He pouts again and approaches, but now at a much slower speed. You stop him again and clarify. He nods with each sentence you utter, trying to understand you.

Claus: So you like me, but you don't like me that way? Hmmmm... You're very complicated, Irene, but I think I understand.

Fortunately, the matter doesn't turn into a drama, and you can propose how you would be happy for the relationship between the two to be: Familial. Now it's Claus's turn to blush like a deflowered maiden, he turns to the side, giving you his back, watches you out of the corner of his eye with a shy smile, and with one hand he plays with his long golden ponytail.

Claus: I-Isn't it a bit hasty...? I never thought you'd be so daring. F-Family? Just like that... A-Are you sure? You can change your mind now if you really don't want to.

In case you confirm it, Claus would assault you, but instead of a kiss, he would trap you in a strong hug. Soon interrupted by loud bangs on the ceiling.

Hank (From the bus): Hey! You better not be fooling around!

...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wh2kwpnQu6cThe radio plays, and in the background, the rumble of the engine. You look out the window next to your seat, the snow has stopped falling from the now clear sky, while the infinite fields flanking the road remain sprinkled with white. From time to time, a cabin or a farm rises from the wheat, and in response, Leon would stop the bus to send an expedition group that most of the time included you. From the abandoned structures, they would get water, sometimes food, and in most cases, nothing.
León: It's just a precaution. We'll reach Malta soon, most likely we won't even need the supplies.

The Frenchman told you.

Continuing with this routine, they spent a week on the road. You couldn't say you wasted your time...

Claus took the opportunity to introduce you to his friend.

Claus: His name is Slime! Olivia and I found him when he was little. He loves to eat human flesh... But only from corpses! So don't worry, hehe.

The creature's big, shiny eyes look at you from above, because it's several heads taller than you. It remained still as a statue, but when you blinked, upon opening your eyes, you found the entity's head at a different angle. Claus hugs him, almost disappearing into the darkness of his fur.

Claus: I don't know why the others are afraid of him.

He says that about León and Hank; the former warned that if Slime got close to him, he'd shoot him, and the latter warned that if Slime got close to Eleanor, he'd shoot him twice. Francine, more open-minded, did interact with the creature, and even set aside a bag of dog food (found in a cabin) for the entity. Claus told you the anecdote, adding how much he likes Francine.

Claus: She's very kind, and very considerate, and very cute. She helped me comb my hair this morning, and also tells me I'm a very handsome boy... Maybe she wants to make me part of her family too?

The mare is another usual stop in your days. She's your trusted doctor, the one who evaluates the progress of your jaw.

Rosynini: Open wide.

Holding a trembling popsicle stick (without ice cream) between her hooves, she puts it in your mouth and accidentally pokes your gums. The pink donkey leans in to get a look inside you.

Rosynini: I knew it! You have cavities. How many times do you brush a day?

You fall silent... How many times have you brushed your teeth since you fell into the backrooms? On level 5, the suite had hygiene products in the cabinets of your private bathroom, but how long has it been since then?

Perhaps the answer is uncomfortable, and archetypal of otakus.

During one of the stops, León summoned you among the wheat to train, him with his knife and you with the machete: 1d50 = 10 (If you beat León's roll, you can add +1 to Strength, Agility, or Endurance)

1/2
Rolero Powellite-6a0e91 No.5854 es
df607e03babf7ea2c6a5d99bc68220fdbffa44ebfa3b164229db055032607e58.png
1.73 MB 3000×3000
>>5853
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 67, Hour 23)
HP: 170/170
Energy: 80/80
Hunger: 40/40 - Thirst: 40/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 11
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 2/4
Towel (Bloody)
Techniques
-Ultra Instinct: Body's utmost self-judgment (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it's used).

Level 10
This time your dreams are not about past desires... You were on the bus, shaking the Eye of Argos and trying to find your brother. A violent snowfall whips the windows, the outskirts ceased to exist. The artifact reacts, conjures a dark fog, but the vision of a whitish anomaly in the blackness startles you. The stain takes shape until it becomes a boy with abnormally white skin, a younger version of Donatello, whose dead-eyed face occupies the sphere and confronts you.

You should have stayed with me, but you left.

He moves his lips, his voice is unmistakable. A thick, tar-like substance slides down his chin, runs down his neck, and stains the fold of his shirt.

Now I'm broken. Lost forever.

He raises his hand to his chin and pulls, his face detaches with a wet snap, and as it slowly slides upwards you hear the growing buzz of a swarm.

Thunder wakes you. Between the darkness and the fog of sleep, you can barely identify what it was... Until it repeats, making you flinch with each new shot. With the one that woke you, that was 4 in total.

Hank: They're attacking us!

The guy from Florida gets up from his seat and grabs his rifle.

Hank: Women and children stay inside! Irene, let's go! It must be the ice brats!

He gets off the bus before you. By reflex, you reach for your pockets, finding them surprisingly empty.

Hank (From outside the bus): Damn it... Leon...? They got Leon!

You have to decide how to act.

2/2
Catherine/Ashley Citrine-45f7d6 No.5855 es
cfe4a12d397e171a7c3aa2022be97e1773e57dafd02402ade1dcd3ae8127be69.jpg
75 KB 900×1126
a571f5d14b4d72587b8341df948212139fd4b58f1727c88fd73966fd35e3492e.jpg
129 KB 1332×749
>>5843
I wanted to respond to this first, in the coming days I'll send Marie's turn
>Ashley
To choose is to lose, and as such it is also to suffer. Cat chose the lie, making herself up tonight with fiberglass, maintaining a good appearance for Hilda despite the pain.

All that was left was to be in the here and now. They probably wouldn't share many more nights together.

<apples

"Yes." -without hesitation- "They taste good. I like the green ones better. They're different." -and that's without going into detail, Catherine could also explain the differences between the red apples themselves, which she feels are different from each other due to certain factors-

<I crush them!

"..." -blinks a little- "Why?" -she can't understand someone who wastes food-

<And then I make applesauce. Not often, because I get all messy.

"Ah."

That made more sense. And it was an appropriate image for her best friend when she imagined her.

"It's a way of eating it." -applesauce is tasty, she accepts- "Don't you like it as fruit?" -but it seems curious to her, for her apples are quite good on their own- "Maybe you'd like it better if it were green." -she thinks- "or yellow..." -that's just speculation now- "...I've never tried a yellow apple." -but she supposes it must be tasty, yellow is one of her two favorite colors along with 'Hilda blue'-

Nor is Catherine aware of the purple apples from Tibet. The world of apples is more fascinating than she imagines.

On the other hand, what Hilda mentions is the opposite of fascinating. It's... irritating. She likes another girl...

<There's a girl... Who's driving me crazy...

"Who."

Cat asked, so seriously it seemed like the question marks were missing! And Hilda took refuge from the question behind her long hair and sweet scent.

<You smell good...

"I know... you always tell me that..."

The whisper returns, respecting the discretion her girl initiated... but leaving her with that ugly feeling in her chest, which she would complain about in any other situation.

(I'm angry...)

(Why am I angry?)

(...I know why. It's because of what she said... I didn't like it... But I don't understand it well...)

(I want to tell her that...)

(But... now I want to be okay...)

The table got between the negativity. And her feelings and memories were put away for later, replaced instead by a popsicle. The first for her, and she wanted to share it, like her first ice cream.

<Why not?

Catherine becomes happy. They share, and it was delicious. It's food capable of delighting an entire stadium, and it shows. The bites go back and forth, like the joys. And it's on the third one that the albino achieves what makes her happiest.

A little kiss. Unexpected, and flavored. Catherine flees, scared. She looks for prying eyes with fright. But she's caught. The girl looks confused, worried, and ready to apologize, but...
<not finish.

Then she was completely confused. She didn't even manage to whisper a word before Hilda was already tasting her lips. Her eyes widened like saucers, not really knowing how else to react, then, her eyelids lowered... the movement of her tongue against the corners of her lips generated a pleasant sensation...

And then they joined their lips, Hilda seemed to be sucking, in a strange, stimulating kiss... Cat closed her little eyes and surrendered. Her fingers slid to her own chest, squeezing the fabric so her heart wouldn't escape... And then, Hilda pulled away as if nothing had happened. The albino opened her eyes as if waking from an intense dream.

Hilda went back to what she was doing as if nothing had happened. Catherine was left with a shocked expression. She looked at the princesses, she looked at Hilda. She felt her hand on her chest, and the wetness in her intimate parts as the only proof of what had happened. She had to cross her legs...

It must have been a most unpleasant scene for any spectator... but she liked it.

She would have to ask her about this later.

...

They are on a city date.

<Not for that. Also...

"For 'that'...?" -that's where they lost her-

<nervous
"Ah..." -she lowers her gaze a bit as she finishes understanding, then looks at her again, with her characteristic calm- "the city can be strange..." -it was for her- "and... new." -also- "but... you don't have to be nervous about that..."

Catherine approaches her, until they are face to face. But she stays like that, really not sure what kind of contact to make with Hilda in that strange posture.

"...I'll accompany you..."

Nerves are something quite difficult for the girl to understand. She has lived most of her life being confident.

But she knows that if she ever felt nervous, it easily vanished with the certainty that someone was accompanying her. Her father, or Hilda herself. Now it's her turn to be the comfort zone for her blue-eyed girl. And later, it would be her turn to feel the nerves too.

...

She hugs Hilda, she rubs her face against hers, and the albino reciprocates by repeating the gesture. They caress each other with their faces, enjoying the closeness that love gives them. And in Cat's case, suffering in silence the deficiencies even in their union. She wishes she could tell her the things she saw, she wishes she could smell her... because Cat also loves Hilda's scent...

But she can't... and even so, she is content with that contact she loves... and that they maintain in a long silence... that wouldn't need anything more.

"Eladia..." -but she ends up breaking it, in a soft whisper only for the ears of the one she names- "Do you think I'm stupid...?" -she asked, her eyes always closed, in the placidity of her arms- "Catonta...?" -she repeats an old offensive nickname Hilda gave her-
sigh -prepares to recount a painful memory- "I ate raw fish."

The story dates back years.

"When I was little..." -as if she weren't still- "Dad told me we couldn't stay in a forest anymore... and we had to move."

"The plan was simple... we'd start walking in the morning... without stopping. And we'd look for provisions the next day. I knew I wouldn't eat... but we didn't know it would be so cold..."

"It was so... cold..." -she shivers just remembering- "the snow... came out of nowhere... I felt like I wasn't wearing any coat."

"At night I fell... I was freezing... Dad hugged me all night... I was so small he could wrap me with his whole body..."

"When I woke up, I was starving. And Dad was freezing. But I was so small, I couldn't even wrap his arm to help him..."

"I covered him with my coat and ran to find something to help him... I found a stream. I could see fish jumping... I went and caught one... the water was so cold I thought my hands would fall off."

"When I had it in my hands I couldn't wait... I killed it and ate it... I didn't think about anything else. It didn't taste that bad..."

"I was so hungry... Am I a fool for that...?" -she asks her innocent question in a soft voice, seeking approval, comfort-

The story remains unfinished once it reaches what mattered to her. Catherine didn't want to be a fool to Hilda.

...

They leave the picture happy as they rarely are. Happy to be together, they roll and fall face to face, Hilda can see the most sincere smile they can give her. Then they touch her nose.

"Ow." -that was still in recovery period-

<Boop.

"Boop?" -they touch her cheek- "heh..." -the fleeting contact makes her let out a unique giggle-

<You too

"You too..." -where?-

Cat brings her face closer like a kitten and affectionately rubs against Hilda, spreading the paint she had with her. "There" she says. Then she pulls away, both of them looking like they've been smeared with lipstick.

"..." -she snorts- "hehe~" -she lets out a giggle in her angelic little voice upon seeing Hilda's clown face, now she's the one who doesn't realize she's sharing the paint-

They run to wash up. Cat is the one with the cleaning products. With what she knows, she chooses soap, as it was the main thing in the forest... and this product... shampoo, which she has started using since arriving at level 10. It seems appropriate.

There are other things. Conditioner? Hair gel? curious things she doesn't know if they are that necessary. She recognizes a loofah, so she takes it too. But she doesn't recognize... that round thing.

"What is that?"

<bath bomb.

"Hm..." -that insult could travel interdimensionally- "And is it like a bomb?"
<Throw it

"Okay."

And she does. With a simple motion, she tosses the sphere, and it quickly dissolves. Catherine marvels at the plethora of colors now flooding the tub.

"It's like a rainbow..."

They bathe in the rainbow. The water is warm and playful. That’s what they think—until a splash makes Cat realize it doesn’t seem quite appropriate for playing... she looks thoughtful for a second, and Hilda, who only realized it two splashes later, flicks water at her face.

"Hey."

She turns away slightly, eyes closed. Hilda looks concerned; Catherine covers her eye with her hand, glancing down gently.

"Ouch..." —she lets out a soft whimper—

If Hilda leaned in worried, Cat would quickly react and steal a little kiss. She was aiming for the nose, to return the joke. But anywhere was fine. A quick peck, then pulling back, she gives the girl an almost teasing smile. Some might say Ashley is vengeful.

<miniature pool.

"I've never been in one of those." —so she can't really say— "uh-"

She was about to explain she knew such things existed but had never actually been inside one, when Hilda’s fingers accidentally brushed the soft skin just below her navel.

A fine, tiny shiver ran through her, silencing her with sensation. The touches, innocent and inevitable, awakened something inside her she didn’t understand. Starting from her belly, right where Hilda touched—like a warmth spreading inward, thick as honey, coating her thighs and even her breasts.

"Ah…" —she let out a soft, strange sigh—

The feeling was intense. Strong enough to feel more than the tub’s hot water. She couldn’t ignore it. Her thighs pressed together, trying to quell whatever was happening to her, but her body wouldn’t cooperate—and even beneath the water, she could feel that same wetness from earlier at the table seeping from her delicate flower.

(What is this...?)

Questions began to rise, along with the subtle crimson on her cheeks and a soft, insistent throb between her legs, which also stirred her chest, breaking the foam’s surface with her hardened pink nipples.

"..."

She’s a bit dazed. Hilda comes to her aid, pulling her into her arms like a child to be protected. Catherine seems a little out of it for a moment as she struggles with all these feelings she doesn’t understand, but she relaxes slightly under the more appropriate caresses. Her eyelids grow heavy, and she lets out a huge, crocodile-like yawn. She could fall asleep right there, if not for needing to switch places. Catherine shakes her head and rubs her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah..."

1/2 got too long
Catherine/Ashley Citrine-45f7d6 No.5856 es
1ba616a04ee2901f77c2390fb0fdebee14f3de6ac1bd9eee568c1f502202b343.jpg
188 KB 803×1200
e57f1845ccf4e24d69820e4b21dca98ace5857df73b6e815d250aab1bfd97e95.jpg
15 KB 597×335
5ce6f9c65f720b8066ad916b89850dd71c7606bf4b0570bc4794272a13845a46.jpg
147 KB 360×623
3c20b7a6918bcffae4afd9446caa2dee71d69596e8b189c2376a5e1ffdedf7ae.jpg
25 KB 252×246
4e6e95287a11333ade2d3c4e4945f19905f21c10a5735f0bbda64df40077f9db.jpg
1.30 MB 2100×2625
>>5843
>>5844
>Ashley
It was her turn. Cat tries to do the same thing Hilda did before, to put her between her arms, but probably her nipples are too pointy to be a comfortable place now, because the blue one wouldn't stay still. Cat dodges a lucky kick, and then tries to clean her while still paying attention to what she's showing.

<Window

"It was an evil entity..."

<crawler

"Did you bite it?" -probably what Catherine would have done-

<skin-stealer

"Yeah, I believe you..." -he always believes her- "I saw one of those..." If I recall correctly Julia told him the name kek, otherwise ignore that

<I ruined it...

"You can do it right next time."

>128364
Well... at least it's not the suburbs kek

>>5819
>Irene's eyes looked weird to me
I don't really notice it.

>that Marie is pretty
She has her moments. But I think between the two, Luz should be the most beautiful canonically.

>Poor Eiko, she has to put up with two teenage brats with their perception of reality completely altered by anime, kek
Marie: well, I'm more of a GAMER than an otaku, but I really like anime blah blah blah

>she called her mother Oka-san
KEK
She probably got saved from some bullying for being a woman, otherwise her life would have been hell.

<Deserved
She didn't give the guy who was hitting on her a chance before falling into the backrooms. Many such cases...

>>5823
>Do you know what else you're missing besides a weeb object? Losing body parts, I lost an arm, Irene lost her mouth, they're going to have to cut off your legs
W-what?, wait, no. Why the legs?, Can I at least keep one? Kek

>Luz doesn't count because she came back.
Tha's righ'

D-does it count if in the visions of the future Marie also lost a little arm? It's the fate of redheads with glasses.

>that video
Ayy... Why did he do it...?

>all the lore
Kek. It would have been epic to roleplay, I won't lie. Let's make it a spin-off in the literature club joke kek but if you want, it's not a joke

>Aldo
Is Eiko crying? KWAB

>>5828
>Magical Girl Miko of The Butts?
The what

>>5834
>Eiko and her flat ass take up the whole floor
GIWTWM

>>5846
>What benefit do I get from being an idol? Better to blow up stars than be a star and get blown up.
They make memes and plushies of you where you look fat
Otaku con ensoñacion Poudretteite-a795f0 No.5857 es
>>5853
>>5854
>Irene

She must make him understand that she wasn't there for kisses, and clarify her emotions.

"Emotions are complicated, especially when it comes to women." Own internal misogyny from the era and from consuming too much anime kek

Nevertheless, she can explain everything in a more or less correct way to make Claus understand the path where they should take this relationship.

"Yes, family, everyone needs one and you look like you need an older sister to instruct you on how the world works." She raises a finger and puffs out her chest proudly like a nerd, she is then met with a powerful hug. "Hehe, okay, okay--" Hank cuts them off. "No sir, no fooling around here!" He repeats exaggeratedly.

She returns Claus's hug and gives him a noogie. "Welcome to the sisterhood~"

...

The following days were spent gathering supplies from wherever they could find them. She didn't complain about going; it was good for keeping her reflexes sharp anyway. Can I include some training in this period? I can't quite figure out how, but something to dodge and work on her reflexes between each stop and supply search.

As well as to continue getting to know Claus better, as she didn't really know much about him.

"Slime..." She tilts her head, looking at the dark creature. It does the same to her between blinks. "And it eats corpses... I can't blame others. Entities can be dangerous, but if you have it tamed and it's friendly, I don't see why you should worry. I trust your judgment." She tries to pet the Slime too, seeing her hand disappear into so much fur. She mentions Francine. "Another lesson about emotions, little brother. Just because someone is kind doesn't necessarily mean they want a deeper or more meaningful relationship... I learned that the hard way."

It was a spring day a year or two ago in the world outside the storage room, and Irene, naive and dreamy, mistook a guy asking to borrow a pencil for a declaration of love. At the end of the day, she confessed behind the school only to be the victim of teasing and to trip over an insect while escaping in shame. That day Donny bought her ice cream to cheer her up; it worked a little.
Her medical progress was with Rosynini, who was her doctor and dentist, and faced with accusations of cavities due to bad Otaku habits, Irene couldn't defend herself.

"Oh well... we didn't have toothpaste, although I did swish with water to keep my mouth clean, after that I was a bit at level 5... I think it's been a month since I last did it" She could only look down in shame "Don't follow my example" She tells Claus "Always brush when you can"

...

It was training time at another stop, machete versus knife, Irene gave her best, and after it concluded, she would ask Leon a question.

"Can I ask you something? You're like, really experienced in fighting, right? Do you have any advice for... ugh I don't know how to explain it without sounding ridiculous, but you saw me fight the clown and how from one moment to another I could move faster with better reflexes?" She was really avoiding using weeb terms "Do you have any advice for improving that?"
1d50 = 23 kek, easy, stamina

...

One night, she's a victim of her dreams, endlessly checking and rechecking the Eye of Argos only to receive a mental blow, with a vision representing her guilt.

She wants to speak, but has no voice, she can only watch in horror until she wakes up.

"What... What?!"

Gunshots, they're being attacked.

"I'm coming!" She searches her pockets, there was nothing "Where are my things?!" I assume I don't have the pistol because it's no longer in the inventory, but the machete is

"Claus, find my pistol! Pass it through a window when you find it"

She wastes no time and goes out with the machete in hand, and tries to assess the situation

"Leon, are you okay?!" If the Frenchman was badly injured, she was going to help him get back inside/take him to any cover possible, or be alert for anything approaching that she could hack at

-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete + 1d50 = 23
-Agility: 10
-Stamina: 11 + 1d50 = 41

>>5846
> retract
What did the magical girls from the back room do besides die?
> What benefit do I get from being an idol? Better to blow up stars than be a star and get blown up.
Fair fair
>>5856
> Ayy... Why did she do it...?
I don't blame Eiko, imagine having to put up with those two autists treating you like a Chinese monkey

> GIWTWM
Same tbh
Otaku con ensoñacion Poudretteite-a795f0 No.5858 es
>>5857
that + resistance was for agility, kek
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5859 es
dc07ba149a300d34488f09e1fa07aa6a2935f7acda5aea6bd12183a0e3b61de6.jpg
60 KB 736×736
>>5855
>>5856
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 22. Hour 13)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 34/70
Hunger: 16/20 - Thirst: 16/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar + Flower Crown
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of Salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 5
You dream you are an apple, swaying on the placidity of a branch, hanging from one of the countless trees in the forest. Peaceful, until a rough hand plucks you and brings you down, leaving you in front of large eyes with small pupils. The proximity and size of your captor allow you to discern the ring of her irises: the color is a cold blue like that of a frozen lake. She licks her lips with the tip of her tongue and opens wide, revealing her teeth and molars. You have no mouth, even if you wanted to scream and identify yourself, you are just a fruit. The maw closes over you.

You wake with a slight start. It was too fast, and too surreal to process as a scare, but it causes you to flail your arms and some foam to spill over the edge of the bathtub. The tips of some fingers trace caresses on your arms, a pleasant reminder of where you are...

In the bathroom of your city suite, where according to Hilda you shouldn't waste time doing "That," leisure and relaxation, "fooling around like Marie and Luz must be doing"... Those were your companion's words. Against all odds in this strange world of labyrinths, you managed to find a space for luxury and enjoyment. Although your father would surely scold you if he saw you letting your guard down so much in a place more unpredictable than a forest.

Hilda: Heh... For a first date, it turned out fun.

She speaks from behind you as she rubs you and generates more foam.

Hilda: There's something I don't understand, what's the difference between what we did today and what we do every day...? Did we eat more? Did we go further and to more places?

Her doubt is sincere. But you didn't just stroll, you also talked. A while ago, you told her about your trauma with raw fish, and reminded her of the malicious nickname she gave you.

Hilda: All the ugly things I said to you before... They weren't true, you know that, right?

She crosses her arms over your torso and you interlace your legs with hers. The water is cool, but her warm skin creates a pleasant contrast as she presses her back against your chest. You are the taller and longer of the two, Hilda can't wrap around you like your dad used to, but she tries.

Hilda: I wanted to annoy you, and push you away, and be hateful... But I don't want that anymore. On the contrary, having you close makes me happy, like you're a piece I didn't know was missing.

In the ceiling mirror, you see her close her eyes and press her face into the hollow of your shoulder.
Hilda: I wanted to act cool about the raw fish thing... The tough one who doesn't take crap from anyone, all to impress you, when in reality I was just a brat complaining about a restaurant. The fool... That was me. You were the truly cool one, the survivor, the best and most beautiful predator of the infinite infinitesimal.

The compliments are accompanied by insistent grooming, it's no longer just a matter of cleanliness, her hands roam your abdomen longing to feel you, and as they climb your ribs, plowing your pale skin, the space between her fingers bumps your erect right nipple. You're too sensitive, the touch is like an electric shock, it forces your back to arch and puts you on edge.

Hilda: Ashley...?

In the mirror, she gives a half-smile upon noticing your blush, the color is your body's involuntary confession.

Hilda: For now... It doesn't matter.

She slowly frees your chest and proceeds to stand in front of you so you can assist her with cleaning. The scars evoke stories and advice, about how you should never let a The Window grab you, and how biting a The Crawler is bad since they are a poisonous fungus.

Once in bed, you sink into the sheets feeling as limp as a flan, your eyelids are heavy and already -clinging to Hilda- you're ready to visit Morpheus. But the tough girl, unlike you, is bursting with energy, sitting up she bounces repeatedly on the mattress while sharing her idea.

Hilda: Sinful, yes! I learned it from movies, like almost all the swear words. I can teach them to you.

A movie, you think to ask for one, if Hilda likes them you will too, right? The tough girl uses the phone to order and now all that's left is to wait. Hilda's kiss on your lips gives you 10000 energy! At least in autotism, because your little body still desires a long and rich rest. As you leave the dirty clothes folded in the hallway, chance leads you to see a baby disappear with a monkey in a wall elevator.

You return to ask Hilda about babies, only to find a surprise...

Hilda: ... ZzzZ...

She's lying in the middle of the mattress, face down in the pillows with her butt raised like a puppy, letting out long snores that hint at a deep state of sleep, also some drool. It seems you were something like the battery that kept her going, because you moved away for a bit and sleep took her.

There's a knock at the door, maybe you should tell the monkey to cancel the order, they won't need it today. After dismissing the entity, you return to the bedroom, climb into bed, and crawl until you fall next to your companion. As soon as she senses your closeness, she turns until she bumps into you, leans over, and fumbles with her hands, trying to pull you closer.

Like a carnivorous trap...

Of love.

1/2

>Will Hilda still love Cat when she grows up and looks like a pic?
I would have to give you more context about that Cat... And I would have to give you more context about the possible grown-up version of Hilda... And that would be major spoilers, I don't know if you want that, painful little kek. I think... I think they can end up well, don't lose hope.
Marisa Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5860 es
a3836e4bd19cd4ca974070b7bec711f5de6d37ddde4656876756f57fc0cc0260.jpg
11 KB 480×360
>>5848
>I was taught that way and I turned out alright!

"That's what they say... child beaters!" Calling them child abusers sounds bad, even though that's literally what they are.

The star sweater suits him well to avoid freezing from touching the cold floor, but not to go unnoticed; that shade of orange stands out so much in the snow that even a dead person could see and bite it.

«Good thing these aren't the kind of zombies that turn you by getting their gums on your skin.»

He doesn't think the dead man's teeth got stuck in his skin before he decapitated him with one touch, but feeling something touch your ankle and then turning to see a zombie baring its fangs at you is a bit worrying. It's also worrying to turn around and see how badly everyone's fight against Bill is going, so it's better not to look too much and keep moving away. The bad thing is that the world wants to force him not to look away and shows him the death of someone else he knew right in front of him.

«Why do they always have to throw organs in my face?»

For a moment he thinks about rubbing snow on his face to see if it helps clean him, but before he can try, someone is pointing a revolver at his face.

>He wouldn't kill a child, would he?

«There are worse things you could do to a child...» He doesn't want any of those things done to him, so he makes a sad face like a puppy being pointed at with a revolver until he hears the trigger and closes his eyes. Luckily, he then hears the revolver fall to the ground and can open his eyes again to see that he is indeed alive and remembers something important.

>>5849
Death must have very cold skin; every time he has a brush with it, it leaves him chilled, so he doesn't get too close or for too long. He doesn't need any more motivation to stay away from it; that's what he's done his whole life, and it's worked out pretty well so far, but he's sure he can put even more distance between them, or better yet, cut off all contact they have. The first step to achieving this is in any direction where the whip-wielding, people-dismembering subject isn't, and coincidentally, that's also the direction the fairy godmother is in.
>M-M-Mark?

"Uh...? Yeah, that's me." He's confused for a second by how she says it, but they don't have time to waste on that—first, they need to get the hell out of here. "Look, I think this—"

Charli hugs him with her little girl's body, and his own little girl's body can't take it anymore, so he starts crying too. He lets himself cry and hugs Charli back to relieve some of the need. It doesn't even feel bad doing it, even if it's not as warm as Flametower-18K.

>It's me, Charli... I-I just wanted... I wanted to feel good being myself!

"And I-I didn't want to turn into a spider!" That's his way of saying neither of them is to blame for ending up in this situation just for wanting that, and of explaining why he now also has a little girl's body. "I guess I should—"

He's interrupted by sarcastic clapping. What he sees when he turns isn't a blood-soaked bandit covered in guts ready to slice him with a whip, but an old man wearing a party hat.

"Thank God... But who the hell is this?"

The only thing he understands is that the man knows Charli and looks a lot like her, except without dwarfism.

"Is this... your dad?" He asks Charli, though he doesn't believe it.

Whoever he is, he's really angry—seems mad at him too, even though he doesn't even know him.

>What did you offer the Right?! Answer me!

"Whoa! What the hell's wrong with you!?" He reacts as the octogenarian lunges at him, but instead of feeling his weight, it's like something's pierced straight through him... "A-a-a-ghost!?" His eyes go wide as saucers, his heart pounding in his throat, but all that comes out are high-pitched shrieks like a schoolgirl. "I knew they existed! Did they always exist?! Why have I never seen one before!?"
This is the most exciting day of his life... until he remembers it could be his last, his excitement dampens a bit and he hugs Charli again.

"Bro... I think we're in pretty deep here and we should leave before we get any worse..." After a few seconds of venting, he's a bit calmer and can talk things through calmly, "But I think things wouldn't be this bad if I had done some things a little better, so I'm sorry."

Charlicito turning into a girl with ice magic on a whim, the white worm granting wishes, and now being surrounded by frozen zombies who might have died due to Charli's direct or indirect actions doesn't paint a good picture... but he still won't blame him or anyone he likes, like himself, for it.

"You wanting to become a girl isn't your fault that a bunch of people died and a bunch of dead people rose up. And if that worm forced you to do something because you made a deal without knowing the consequences, then screw him, he's not my friend, you are." He hits his chest with his fist as if to say he's speaking from the heart or to convey confidence, but what he really wants is to go back in time. "We're going to get out of here, we're going to survive, and we're going to go to that tropical level for vacation or look for a university that offers mineralogy or geology." He hugs Charli by the shoulder while with his other arm he keeps hitting his chest until that time travel activates or the death flags he's raising kill him first. "Because we'd still be friends even if I shot you with an arrow to save you, right?"

After asking one last very important question, he believes he's ready to go back to the moment the fight technically began (>>5814) and do what he asked if he could, although going back a little before that to acclimatize to the jump might be better, as long as he returns to a point where he can still do something.

"So I'm going to get behind Alondra to make sure no zombie grabs me, I'm going to yell 'Charli, it's Marcos, thanks for getting me out of prison, sorry for not seeing you again and for doing this,' shoot a single arrow as gently as I can so as not to hurt her too much, I'll ask her to 'Please hide where they can't shoot you, you're too in the center and everyone here has guns!' and then... I think after that I have to pray that things go well and see what I do." He mentally prepares his plan. "Maybe I should tell her that a certain Merlin is also looking for him... Although if I go back too far in time I can also try to prevent them from dirtying my face more or see if that spider had the die it took from me, or..."

Strength: 1d50 = 37 Can I subtract from the damage if I say I'm holding back?
Agility: 1d50 = 36
First I use deja vu and then I roll these dice when it has already happened, I don't know if I should wait for deja vu to happen to respond to the turn I want to return to, so the resistance dice below are for before deja vu just in case.
Resilience: 1d50 = 6

>>5856
>The whats
The Backrooms. That's what they call the Backrooms in Spanish, the back rooms. If eikokoro called them bakurumus like a Chinese person, I should call them traseros like a Latin American.

>They make memes and plushies of you looking fat
Better to be well-fed in real life, and if I wanted that so much I'd go back to go through that rabbit hole and become a labiata.
Rolero Cassiterite-166fd2 No.5861 es
e3aa8ec070871c46e620c33b350c31d34c70a348f574b8a7b75bf12b3084395e.jpg
132 KB 850×983
a813a72a1f8715f4b5913431c08b6a371a3088ed343c91e6951d7e90a9488e61.jpg
84 KB 850×987
399c9a96b14bfa2b27e70d6f463a03fe589d7804c5f92e6c5ec3373c3bdf22c2.jpg
65 KB 850×563
aced6f96336adbaf56da673ccf6d464bcd17c36d9a9e1940d4e06c91ba280b6d.jpg
163 KB 800×600
f7ae278d5d8bdfdaf9a72031e6b6cf9f2e66c713901ad38910066a225299e960.jpg
251 KB 850×1124
>>5859
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 23. Hour 7)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 70/70
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar + Flower Crown (Melting)
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 5
Sweetie... Honey... Cat... Cat... Ash-leey~'''

Restless murmurs in your ear. You woke up before her and anchored to her, a leg and an arm, both on your torso, prevented you from moving unless you pushed hard enough. You found her muttering in her sleep, saying your name in her particular way, and letting out pet names that tried to supplant the offensive pseudonym from when she met you.

A muffled "pomp" on the glass panel pulls you from the morning memory. Looking, you see the most dangerous of creatures attached with its multiple fuzzy legs, an entity capable of reducing an adult man's flesh with its mere spit. Its compound eyes lack pupils to know where its attention is directed, but you instinctively sense it on you.

Hilda smiles with her mouth open, pointing at the moth with one hand and at you with the other, then waggles her eyebrows up and down. You understand she's trying to point out the resemblance, only you're not as... Hairy. Although you do wear white naturally. You had to leave the dress behind, today would be a demanding workday.

For the first activity, Hilda took you to the hotel's greenhouse, a series of domed rooms with an opaque glass ceiling through which heat enters. Guests stroll with leashes and groom their trained moths with brushes, each with more hair than the last, as if the sponginess of the insects were a matter of status.
You spot the restaurant princesses, their pampered and perfumed asses on the edge of a pond. They chat about their own things, resting open parasols on their delicate shoulders even though it isn't raining. Since you have to pass by, the princesses also spot you and give you a disdainful look, then turn their faces away as if you were an offensive sight, one of them covering her nose with her fingers as if you smelled bad. Hilda pays them no mind, more interested in the water lilies and flowers filling the pond, shadows of fish and turtles visible beneath the surface. The bully glances at you out of the corner of her eye, or more specifically, sees your crown.

Hilda: When are you going to get rid of that thing?

She asks somewhat brusquely.

Hilda: You'll get your hair dirty now. I'm terrible at giving gifts.

She's right, first the harmful flower, then those paint flowers that started melting from the greenhouse heat, the bite was another of her gifts. So far the only decent present has been the rock you wear as a necklace, and you still haven't gotten rid of your stiff neck.

Hilda: But you won't be able to criticize me for that anymore, because today I'm not your girlfriend...

...?! Bad Ending...?!

Hilda: I'm your instructor!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fMcsgSxC25o
She leaps over a bush, the bush rustles, and less than a minute later she leaps back in front of you. She's wearing knee pads, a vest, but most importantly... a shotgun! Now you understand why her backpack looked heavy.

Hilda: The backrooms have a second name! D-A-N-G-E-R! Danger!

She missed a letter, but it might be rude to point it out when she's motivated.

Hilda: And danger, when confronted, doesn't understand diplomacy and that other gay crap. You have to speak its language, you have to be dangerous. Sometimes escaping isn't enough.

She spins the shotgun in one hand and extends it, pointing to her right.

Hilda: Since I didn't want it to be too easy for me, I brought this instead of my sword.

By chance, the barrel ends up pointing towards the princesses. Two of them turn pale with fright, the third keeps her face quite composed and gives the impression she held back her fear... Slowly the princess's body leans backward, until, with a splash, she face-plants into the pond. Her companions shriek, Hilda looks at them with narrowed eyes, not understanding what all the fuss is about.

2/3
Rolero Cassiterite-166fd2 No.5863 es
5269bcfbbd1b463583790280865b213d1b1ef9e6711ad02de881e987f6f306dc.jpg
274 KB 899×600
888f04206e07fb752bfb5a0aef272e98a6c923978e147037bafcea4068901f43.jpg
327 KB 1280×720
3ad78519e4ae8b109e88b757865d8819ea53944ad0bc0b41916311c1ccd4f623.jpg
122 KB 982×2048
8e0479ebcdab4df7a8f69b08dfe0fe6adf5823695e7ab207c799d9a8c523dbf4.webp
86 KB 698×507
>>5861
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 23. Hour 8)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 69/70
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 19/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar + Flower Crown (Melting)
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of Salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 5
The bully wields a broom in one hand and a steel key in the other, old and rusty, which she claims Sebasquatch gave her to clean the most secluded corners of the greenhouse. A golden opportunity.

They cross a narrow glass corridor, Hilda leading the way. The glass is dirty and yellowish, barely letting light through. The whispering of the nobles is long behind them; now they are surrounded by the muffled singing of birds and crickets, and a barely discernible sound of falling water. Perhaps an open garden faucet. Hilda glances over her shoulder every 50 steps, both to make sure you're still with her and to watch out for anything following them. You know she's counting steps because she keeps moving her lips.

A thick metal grate door with a "WARNING" sign in the center blocks their path. Hilda extends the key to you... A signal for you to take it. As soon as you grab it, she shows you her open palm... A signal to wait. She unscrews the brush from the broom and puts it away, saying it might be useful. Using a rope, she ties a knife to the tip of the broom, and hands it to you.

-Hilda's Spear
Function: +10 damage. +5 damage for each "Hilda" item equipped. If thrown, add your total agility to the damage.
Description: Improvised spear made from a broom and a double-edged knife.

Hilda smiles at you. She opens the door, the old metal creaking as if resisting. She holds the door open for you to pass first, and squats down to place the broom brush as a stopper for the door. Still crouched, she looks at you, smiles again, and wiggles her eyebrows up and down. You understand what she means as if it were telepathy: "Aren't I a clever girl?"
The corridor curves and opens into a grove capped by beams and glass, from which vines hang down. Weeds and wild plants grow in a disordered green, with a bunch of leaves peeking out from every hole and cracked face. Dry foliage and rotten foliage carpet the ground, forming a soft surface. You imitate Hilda, she doesn't come out completely, but rather pokes her head out first and surveys the surroundings. She pulls a handful of bacon left over from breakfast from her backpack, and throws it onto the mossy stone floor... Hilda keeps counting, moving her lips, and when 60 seconds are up, she allows herself to come out.

Hilda: Only step where I step.

She tells you before moving to the small porch that frames the entrance. With the shotgun held out in front, Hilda advances with long, deliberate strides. You notice she makes sure to plant her sole on clear parts, and on those that aren't, she first tests them with the tip of her boot. Most of the bluish girl's attention is on the ceiling and the tangled undergrowth.

The place isn't like a forest, it's confined, nature grows twisted by force by the skeleton of stone and metal, forming curves and walkways. Near some mossy stone benches, Hilda sees something that catches her eye. A fuchsia, thick puddle, like jelly... Hilda leans down, runs her finger through it, swirls the substance so it coils, and puts her finger in her mouth. When she pulls her finger out, it's clean, and Hilda chews, savoring.

Hilda: Moth jelly.

She looks around.

Hilda: There's a fence.

They find it leaning against a half-crumbling wall. It's bigger than Hilda, bigger than you, even bigger than your father. Underneath it are piled half-digested skeletons, stuck together by that strange jelly Hilda tasted. There's no white fluffiness like that of tamed creatures, its fur is brown and dark, and its stained wings have patterns resembling screaming faces.

-Deathmoth (Female)
HP: 80/80
-Strength: 8
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4

Traits:
-Spits acid that destroys armor and corrodes skin (-10 HP per turn)
-Very attracted to light

Around the entity buzz moths of more normal wingspans. They look like mother and babies, but in reality, the babies are the males.

Hilda (Whispering): It's quite big...

You murmur. You are both on all fours, using a thicket for cover.

Hilda (Whispering): But it's still an insect, it's fragile. If you push yourself, and give it a good surprise blow, you'll kill it.

3/3
Rolero Cassiterite-166fd2 No.5864 es
172320b75f13cd62ca976215534e32da0ed5226ab745b16338adb14e96695fb6.jpg
74 KB 500×565
>>5857
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 67, Hour 23)
HP: 170/170
Energy: 75/80
Hunger: 40/40 - Thirst: 40/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 12
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 2/4
Towel (Bloody)
Almond water bottle with salt (13/15)
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Maximum secret of the body's judgment on its own (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it is used).

Level 10
You remembered the last YouTube video you watched before falling into the backrooms with your brother. It was about self-motivation, the mistake of procrastinating, the urgency of productivity, the Just do it!, and as you recalled it, you got up from your seat with your fist raised, filled with the spirit of action. The others looked at you as if you were a weirdo.

You wanted to improve your dodging and reflexes, you asked the bus nomads for advice.

Eleanor: If you give me back the gun, I could shoot you and we'd both find out if you're capable of dodging bullets.

You couldn't, Hank made you promise not to give the gun back to his daughter for any reason in the world.

Hank (From the past): "Swear it... Swear it on Martin Luther King!"

The Florida man clarified that to be allowed to carry weapons, Eleanor would have to be fifteen, and she's still too young. With that in mind, you sought help from others, and Claus came up with an idea.

Claus: Why don't you train with Slime? It might not look like it, but he's veeery fast.

You reach out your hand to the entity, its fur is darker than black 3.0, it has a smooth and soft texture, and the skin underneath is warm and firm. It's hard to tell if it likes your caress, it doesn't smile or react in any way.

Claus: He likes you.

Judging by Claus's smile, he seems quite convinced of your affinity.

Claus: So, nothing's going on with Francine? Okay, I'll listen to you, Irene. You're my older sister and I have to obey you.

You walk between the snow and the wheat. To improve your agility, you'll have to dodge Slime at least 10 times.

Claus: It'll be easy if you know the trick.

The young blonde steps aside. You face Slime, the entity stands upright 20 steps away from you, looking back at you with its bright eyes. Beat its roll! 10d50 = 358 Use a 10d50 roll, but beware, there's a trick.

-Almond water bottle with salt
Function: Doesn't exactly quench thirst (13/15)
Description: A concoction mixed by Rosynini, a makeshift mouthwash.

You tilt the bottles, gargle, swish the salty liquid between your cheeks, and spit into the snow. It stings a little from the sutures, but you can bear it. Hopefully, the next time you look for supplies, you'll find proper toothpaste.

Later, you have a quiet chat with Leon...

Leon: Oui, chérie?

He deflects your machete swing with his knife and extends a kick to your chest, which you evade by jumping backward. Leon lowers his leg to the ground and nods at your question.

Leon: There's a long path and a short path, the first way is safer than the other...
You run at him, twist the knife, trapping the handle between your fingers and leaving the blade below your fist, plant your feet, sweep the snow with the soles of your boots, and from your chest, move the dagger in your direction. You tilt your body, getting out of its path, and swing your leg at the mercenary's ankle. With the impact, Leon loses his balance and falls to the side, but as soon as his shoulder brushes the snow, he starts to turn towards you. You retreat in a hurry, dodging the knife that repeatedly embeds itself, grazing your feet by mere centimeters.

You step on his wrist. He grunts, hunches over, and when you apply pressure, you force him to drop the knife. He looks at you from the ground.

Leon: Y-You can... You can do what we're doing now, practice...

He extends his other hand to you.

Leon: Or you can simply... Kill.

Now standing, he brushes the snow off his coat with pats.

Leon: You surely sensed it after killing the jester, chérie. An unexpected revitalization easily mistaken for relief. But it's something else, I can't say if it's a gift or a curse.

He pulls a cigarette butt from his coat pocket and a lighter. He lights the butt and takes a drag while looking at the gray sky.

Leon: The only advice I can give you is to never give in to that feeling, or you'll end up like the clown. I was lucky, by the time I got here, murder had already lost its charm.

In the afternoon, they gather around another campfire to share snacks, words, and liquor... In your case, grape soda. Hank, taking advantage of the early darkness and the shadows cast by the fire, tells a horror story that he claims happened to a friend 100% for real.

Hank: After the girl disappeared from the car, my friend went to the house and knocked on the door. A lady opened it, and he asked her if she had a daughter. The lady started crying and said that her daughter... Had died on the curve of the road where he picked her up!

Claus and Rosynini: Aaaah!

Those two jump in their seats... As if they hadn't seen more horrific things in the backrooms. Claus seems particularly sensitive, trembling and hugging himself. Fortunately or unfortunately, Leon kills the mood by playing music from the bus.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ahdH8eTydWY
It's the signal for a blushing Francine, bottle of liquor in hand, to stand up and move from the bus. Swaying her hips, the blonde approaches your bewildered little brother, who laughs naively as the woman takes his hands and pulls him to dance. Claus doesn't know how, but it doesn't matter because Francine leads him and she's too drunk to care about having style.

Hank dances like in Pulp Fiction, making a V with his fingers in front of his eyes. Rosynini does Michael Jackson's moonwalk, sliding his hooves backward. Nadjela remains seated but moves her shoulders and feet to the rhythm. Only Hether is still, warming her palms near the fire.

When the dances and sharing are over, and the first yawns signaling the desire for rest begin, you're ready to go to sleep. Until something catches your attention, you see Francine whispering something in Claus's ear, the boy looking confused, and the blonde leading him towards the intimacy of the wheat...

Perhaps, as you told him, it's nothing.

1/2
Rolero Cassiterite-166fd2 No.5865 es
7130c216443c5dd1ef69f76165ad4cd69774212ca35aebe5604d2227b1f97ccb.jpg
35 KB 390×210
>>5864
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 68, Hour 1)
HP: 170/170
Energy: 73/80
Hunger: 38/40 - Thirst: 38/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 12
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 2/4
Towel (Bloody)
Salted Almond Water Bottle (13/15)
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Body's ultimate self-judgment (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it's used).

Level 10
You ask Claus to look for your pistol, grab the machete, and run out of the bus to face the danger. You peer into the darkness beyond the vehicle's headlights, nothing moves among the wheat. You turn your attention to where Hank is on his knees, holding a fallen Leon. You hurry to assist them, and as you approach, you continue scanning the surroundings for the source of the attack, focused on having the machete ready to strike the enemy. You reach Hank and Leon, and realize the gravity of the situation. A reddish stain is growing from the exit wounds. Leon coughs, his chin stained with blood, and weakly places his hand on his open chest.

Hank: Leon, tell me! What happened? Who did this to you?

The Frenchman tries to speak, but the blood and coughing choke his throat and make it difficult, yet he manages to utter a sentence.

Leon: I-it's... Fine. I... I deserved it...

He stops coughing, stops blinking, stops moving. He lies inert, and soon a palpable coldness emanates from his skin. There was nothing to be done, it was four direct shots. Hank gives you a pained expression and shakes his head. Behind you, the others arrive: Francine, Claus, Rosynini, Nadjela, Hether...

Francine: Oh my God! Leon!

The blonde covers her mouth in horror.

A hand presses your shoulder, it's a dejected Claus.

Claus: I searched everywhere on the bus, but I couldn't find your pistol...

Hank leaps into the wheat to search the surroundings for the culprit or culprits of the ambush, cursing what kind of coward would attack a man from behind. Claus picks up the shovel again and begins to dig a hole in silence. Francine sits by Leon's corpse, her eyes red, talking to the dead about stories unrelated to you. Nadjela, for some reason you can't fathom, is exploring the area around the bus as if looking for something.

Inside the vehicle, Sue is crying and Rosynini is trying to console her.

Sue: E-everyone sniff is g-going to d-die!

Rosynini: O-of course not...! Well, yes, none of us are immortal nor will we live forever, but-

Sue: WAAAAAAAAAH!

Eleanor looks outside from her window, observing Claus digging, the mercenary's corpse, her dad looking for ghosts. Hether is already sitting in her seat, cradling her baby and trying to get it to sleep. You return to your seat... If you look under the seat, you would find the following:

-9mm Pistol (Safety off. 3/7)
Function: Damage x2. Can attack up to 3 times per turn.
Description: Short-barreled semi-automatic firearm

2/2
Rolero Cassiterite-166fd2 No.5866 es
9cf4b627aca881d8fd44b2e411b440e5640c3d54f7d097d58066263fb85e9b72.webp
417 KB 1800×2546
15e8f939d10e5603baac2a61250540ec8ecd187d8fd4f046d55bc5f29b1fa6fd.jpg
653 KB 3300×3300
>>5860
<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, Hour 10)
HP: 28/80
Energy: 38/100
Hunger: 8/20 - Thirst: 9/21
-Strength: 9 + Small bow
-Agility: 12 - 5 Stellar orange coat
-Endurance: 10 + 5 Stellar orange coat
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Junk
Junk
Junk
Crowbar
-Small quiver 12/12
x12 Typical arrow
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
Merlin: HA! If I had a son as cowardly as you, I'd kill myself!

The specter answers and confronts you, squatting down to grab you by the shoulders. The touch of his ethereal fingers sends shivers down your spine, but what truly makes your skin crawl is confirming his ghostly nature.

Merlin: You want to know what a ghost is? You really want to know?! Well, your wish will come true, because seeing me only means you're ready to meet death!

You step away from Merlin, it's easy because you pass through him like air. Clinging to Charlie's body, you face his tearful, snotty expression.

Charlie: D-Do you still accept me? After so many people are suffering because of my selfish wish?

From his tone and his watery eyes, it's clear he can't believe it. He takes a deep breath to snort his sentimental phlegm.

Charlie: If you made a deal with The Right just to be a girl, I-I understand. Sometimes even a kidney can mistake cramps for electrolytes... Nobody's perfect.

You leave your last question unanswered, he just buries his face in your chest and wets your coat with his tears. This is when your power activates...

The world contracts to fit into your right eye, and as it expands again, leaving your eyeball irritated and dirty as if you'd been hit with dirt, the ground beneath your feet is different. You no longer feel Charlie's embrace, and your stomach clenches from being emptier.

Tom collapses into a growing pool of his own blood. Bill dodges the charge of one of the partygoers. On the platform with the gallows, the green-braided archer frees the bound, Alondra being one of the first to be let go, and she barely notices you before running towards you.

Alondra: What the hell-?! How-?

She swallows hard.

Alondra: N-Never mind. Uh... Y-You... Your eyeball fell out.

You were already noticing something wet swinging against your cheek. You carefully grab it, without squeezing, and return it to your socket. You blink, regain your depth perception, and see Alondra collecting the remains of Flametower. She has to move aside as Brutus comes running down the street. Marco Gol appears on the roof, and the BNTG sentinels also emerge from the alleys.
Bill: You're not the only one with influential friends, mayor.

The breeze turns colder. You look up beforehand and catch Charlie descending from the clouds, hovering about 40 meters above you.

A body lying in a corner stirs... And another pushes up with their palms... And another stands. A crowd of blue eyes rise from the previously dark streets, the empty roads now occupied by a wall of white walkers.

Brandon Marco Gol: Everyone, group up, this will be the final stand! They will sing odes about our bravery!

Zelanda: I'm too shy to be the subject of a song, no thanks.

Brutus fires a hundred bullets from his minigun at Bill. The projectiles flatten and bounce off a mutable wall as transparent and thin as a nascent ice sheet, but as hard as diamond. You already knew the reason, and had your bow ready...

Your unintelligible screams make him look in your direction. You shoot, the arrow ascends and pierces his knee, with the tip sticking out. Charlie shrieks and falls tumbling through the air towards an alley.

Alondra: S-Stay behind me!

Instead of obeying, you crawl away in the direction of the alley. Upon arriving, you find Charlie sitting, tearful, and with her little hands holding the leg where the arrow is lodged. Noticing you, she trembles with fright.

Charlie: Ah!

Her eyes, wide as saucers, fix on your bow. She quickly waves her wand in your direction, the ambient temperature drops even further. You have to be quick and stop her at all costs!

-The Partychefs
HP: 300/300
-Strength: 30 + 1d50 = 36
-Agility: 30 + 1d50 = 37
-Toughness: 60
Traits:
-If their HP is below 50%, their stats are halved, but their dice become 1d100.

--BNTG Protectors (Brutus - Brandon - Zelanda)
HP: 750/750
-Strength: 1d100 = 35
-Toughness: 1d100 = 24
Traits:
-Damage is directed at all characters within range.
-They add resistance to allies
-Every time they lose 250 HP, they gain +25 in all rolls, including for allies

---------

-Bill the Filthy
HP: 200/280
-Strength: 30 + 20 Pegasus Lasso + 1d50 = 32 / Magnum Revolver (x3. +2 Priority. 5/6) 1d50 = 29
-Agility: 28 + 20 Pegasus Lasso + 1d50 = 43
-Toughness: 30
Techniques:
-???

-Charlie
HP: 84/100
-Strength: 5 + 1d50 = 24
-Agility: 8 + 1d50 = 48
-Toughness: 1
Techniques:
-???
-Veil of the Ice Virgin (Off)

--White-walker Army
HP: 99417/100000
-Strength: 1d100 = 16
Traits:
-Damage is directed at all characters within range.
-Every time a character is defeated, they recover 100 HP.

>Can I subtract from the damage if I say I'm holding back?
One way to do that is to attack with base stats, meaning without rolling damage dice.
Marie Citrine-45f7d6 No.5867 es
2.44 MB
0cc5c6d60721a4ddc45ac719ba5998585558f3c555e1b08d316a2bc2bd65b5fd.jpg
34 KB 640×736
340ed4617d4e97e4027f66f4a0945e5097e7b1d6a9d237c478ebd91ab1998b0c.jpg
48 KB 478×479
0e2c5fe1cefb33dcbc0f30d7e208e8de7a0a563ccf7e3e10d660f76e8f2fdcae.jpg
152 KB 1620×1620
d192c6fe892bd4241a7db126ae8fd402adb72355beffb849f65ec1320fd1aa67.png
220 KB 500×282
>>5824
>Marie
Gondola. The little boat, not the armless teddy bears. Luz has a little trouble processing that idea.

<That sounds extremely specific... And terrifying.

"Oh- w-well, specific yes, but hm ackshually there's nothing terrifying about them in fact... Uh- Do you want to see?"

Probably. If so, Marie turns on her phone, Luz already knows her password, her lock screen wallpaper is from Undertale, and the main wallpaper, a view exclusive to those who can get past the password -which has now become an L for Luz's initial and because the previous one felt too insecure after discovering Sezh guessed it- is a photo of them kissing.

She goes to the gallery, videos, scrolls through Reddit memes and finds one.

"Aha!"

She taps with her thumb and plays the video. A soft, acoustic song starts, where the strumming of guitars and banjos mimics the warmth of the campfire that the gondola enjoys on a night session of roasting marshmallows. The simplicity of the drawing and the static image, beyond limiting the video, convey the cozy feeling of simplicity and make Marie smile.

"Ahh... I-I think it's very comfy... Don't you think?" -she winces- "Ah! Of course uh-" -she didn't even point it out, she points to the gondola- "t-that's the gondola. And... Uh... These videos are like this, they're like... an image, a song... I-it's comfy, like I said... Right?"

...

They are at the mercy of the lazy movement of the water. The ride is relaxing, or it would be if not for the silly joke that caused tension until they joined in a hug.

Marie swears she's seen many movies. Maybe that statement isn't so true for a cinephile, but she's seen enough to dream of this ideal moment and be able to cherish it. Luz clings to her more, until she feels the warm scent of skin that only she knows. Marie trembles at the contact. Worse after the kiss.

"Ahh... haha... y-you make me tremble... I-in a good way..."

<Love...

"Uh-?" -she sounds both curious and surprised-

<say it again.

"...a-... Ahmoour..." -the 'a' soft, the 'r' barely pronounced, an anglo-speaking attempt that makes Marie let out a giggle- "D-does it sound like that...?" -not quite, but...- "i-it sounds prettier in Spanish..."

And they were filled with kisses. Muack. Muack. Marie stopped in the middle of the affection to smile at her.

"So you forgive me?" -muack- "I love you..."

...

Marie has a terrible idea.

<Hm?

"N-nothing." -she said, her gaze already elsewhere, trying to save herself-

<Want some of mine?

"Th-thanks, thanks..." -she's really full, she just wants to forget this-

OOOOOOAAAAAAAA

<S-should I?

"Uh... Well, you shouldn't say SHOULD, but-" -she scratches the back of her neck- "haha... uh... It's an internet thing I guess..."

(Bruh, Marie. That answer sucks.)

They both get embarrassed at opposite poles. One for eating too much computer, the other for not even knowing that the keyboard starts with QWERTY.
<Sometimes I feel like an idiot for not getting it right away, almost as if I'd missed out on a whole world by using social media and PC too little.

"Uh-?, N-no, no!" -She exclaims, waving her little hands in hasty denial- "You're not an idiot... F-far from it for that reason..." -she explains, tilting her head slightly- "m-maybe you missed out on a world..." -her eyes drift to the side- "but it's not necessarily a good one..." -she lets out a nervous laugh- "it is cool that someone gets it... But all in all..." -she clutches her arm- "i-it's usually me who feels stupid when I explain and realize how... Weird... O-or stupid what I liked is... heh..."

They get on the moai. On top of the statue, Marie strikes a cool pose and Luz hugs her, the cool girl can't help but let her eyes drift to the side, then she hurries to look at the camera again.

<Click

They look at it. Marie laughs a little.

"I look gangsta." -Is that an instance of micro-racism?-

Luz says she came out pretty.

"Oww... I wanted to be cool... I think YOU came out pretty." -she points at her, it might be rude but she's an idiot- "New wallpaper?"

In other news: the moai. They're there... But why are they there?

<What are they? The moai?

"Well... yeah, aren't they?" -it's at least a little weird-

<There's no real reason... They just are, like everything. I bet you also found random things in level 1, or 0.

"Ehh... Maybe? Wait. Define random in this case."

<mini-fridge with PUNCH energy drinks

"Eh, me too..."

<and a mask that spoke to me through my mind.

"T-through your mind?" To this day it burns me that Marie was the only one who didn't find it. I think she took it and had a buddy from the start

<L-Like me!'

(Ah- right... maybe it's not that weird, is it?)

<Obviously I didn't drink anything, and obviously I didn't go near it. I was very afraid of that kind of... Really weird yellow labyrinth with strange buzzing sounds.

"Haha... Oh, yeah... what kind of idiot would drink...? Haha... obviously... Haha." -she laughs excessively for obvious reasons- "i-it was scary..." -she says, looking down slightly- "it was a very... ugly place..."

...Marie stays like that for a moment. She suddenly straightens up, kicking bad feelings away, rambling.

"W-w-w-well!" -...perhaps too hastily- "uh- eh... I was thinking... Haha... D-didn't they move these with ropes slowly?, W-wouldn't it be funny if..." -she raises her hand and moves it slowly in the air to represent- "they were moving the moai and then whoosh..." -she lowers her hand, imitating a fall- "it disappears? Haha and them like" -she makes crab claw hands at her tummy and makes a serious face- "'oh no, again'" -she says, in a raspy voice- "haha, You know? I-eh-..." -she loses energy, rubs the back of her neck blushing- "it would be... funny... right? Hehe..."
(Great... I really just wanted to cheer her up and I did something stupid...)

You remember the past. When presentations and grades meant something. Even though they're not supposed to define you... that doesn't mean good grades aren't great!

<I had to repeat it for the Florida student expo. So yeah, the teachers liked it...

"W-wow... State level... That... Wow, Luz." -she looks genuinely impressed- "congratulations... t-that's no small feat... your parents must have been proud..."

<The only complaint I got was that my tribal outfit left too much skin showing.

"A-" -she freezes, now by a different kind of shock-

(Don't say anything weird, don't say anything stupid, don't say anything jealous or out of line, don't say no no no)

"...that's... uh... Interesting. And... It says more about the people who s-see weird things than about you..." -she explains with a finger raised- "y-yes..."

(I-I don't care... Obviously not, what she did with her past is her business!) Marie, half-sarcastic, half-toxic

Luz looks disheartened. Noticing this, Marie's thought bubble bursts and she startles.

"Uh- L-Luz...?"

She calls out to her, concerned. But soon Luz looks up, regaining some spirit, even if just a little. Marie keeps the same expression, waiting for some kind of response, and doesn't relax until she sees that hint of a smile and that calmer question.

<What about you?

"Uh?" -okay, she's still a bit confused, what does she mean?-

<Anything you want to tell me about your school? I bet as a mediator you had to solve a million and one problems. You don't need to tell me all of them now... Just the funniest one will do.

"Haha... Ugh... don't think so..." -she sighs, shrugging- "let's just say... I-I trained more than I practiced...?" -she lowers her arms- "o-okay, not 'let's just say...' it was like that..." -she straightens up- "I-I honestly was the only one interested in the idea... b-but it was fun learning about key phrases and stuff..." -she says, tilting her palms and head as if remembering- "...b-but well..." -she looks at Luz with an awkward half-smile- "uh... actually using them was a bit hard... I-I mediated between two guys who wanted a desk once... and uh... and that's it." -she shrugs- "i-it's not like it was amazing, it was just like 'you can take turns by day'... or things like that." -she sighs and makes a tired face- "...in the end they decided on their own so I would stop talking..." -she puffs out her cheek, that moment was a bit embarrassing back then- "uh... i-it wasn't a total loss... uh... heh... a-at least I think it counts as funny, right?"

A somewhat disappointing story. At the end of the day, the guys didn't like listening to a little nerd trying to advise them. Maybe if Marie had been prettier, she would have had more success... but life built her for bright screens and science, not for being sexy.
Marie was a sedentary child. At least in the past. And apparently, those years are catching up to her today, because she's already tired... or so she says.

They walk around the place, Marie sees some rainbow pearls and looks interested.

"Woh! I didn't know they came in more colors! Those must be worth... uh... a lot." -oh, come on, can't one be interested in money once in a while?-

And they are also pretty, and unreachable due to the danger of reaching out and touching. It's like a work of art, but natural... Or unnatural because it's from the Backrooms? Either way, look but don't touch.

<They say sometimes the colors merge and show glimpses of the future... Yeah, I know, sounds crazy.

"Ha... Yeah... uh... crazy..."

Marie stares at the pearls, almost lost in this sea of thoughts.

(But for the Joker... Insanity is normal...)

(...d-don't believe it fully, Lunita. I said that half-jokingly...)

(But... heavens... if she knew, right...?)

(But how do I tell her...? Th-that would scare her, right...?)

She can now put those thoughts into words. She doesn't know what to do with all this knowledge. Knowledge is power. And power sometimes goes hand in hand with torture.

(Damn...)

Luz climbs up! She looked like a monkey up there, Marie clearly doesn't think that! She looks at the tree with her hand as a visor and her nose wrinkled, trying to see despite the sun and Luz's position. She gets nothing but an exclamation that she acknowledges.

"I'm heeeere!" -she replies with her hands by her mouth-

A couple of coconuts fall.

"Woh, coconuts!"

(The coconut but is a big big nut. If you eat too much you'll get VERY FAT.)

Marie approaches, Luz does too, they sit down. And they try.

"Haha! I've never tried a coconut. I'm in loove with the coco~" -she looks at Luz- "it's a song." -she looks at the coconut- "Did you know that falling coconuts kill at least 150 people a year?" -fun fact that Marie doesn't know is a myth-

Sigh of preparation

"Uf! ok... Here I go." -she closes her eyes and...- Siiip "..." -she opens her eyes. She lowers the fruit, puts on a serious face- "...it looked tastier on TV..." -she looks at Luz for a second- "...ha..." -she finds the disappointment amusing- "haha." -she laughs a little-

They end up in a cabin. Marie can't help but look outside and see... Silhouettes swimming? She finds herself somewhat worried.

"Uh... And... About that...?"

<They're seamonks

"Huh?" -she sees them, on closer inspection, they look giant. Marie's eyes widen, and she's glad she's not a ship- "o-oh my..." -but these are sinking- "...." -she wouldn't dare say she feels safe, but... something better at least-

1/? I stretched
Otaku con ensoñacion Musgravite-cada2a No.5868 es
268d928c9d89b00dcfb7fa8688f6afb3851f84576c0aa05742cba625d61f28e2.gif
375 KB 640×360
>>5864
>Irene

"I can already dodge bullets, and no, your father wouldn't let me" She must resort to her new brother and his weird dog to help her train her speed

"I'm not saying no, just don't rush to assume things, wait a bit before concluding people's intentions"

The training was to dodge the smiler slime "What trick?" She asks

10d50 = 302

She looks at him directly, flexes her knees, she's ready and signals him to 'advance', whatever the manga gods willed.

...

Later she has a very fruitful training session with Leon, apparently Irene had become fast enough to put an experienced assassin in check, life really was an anime and she was living it as the protagonist.

"Yes...I was waiting for that" She looks at the machete "Yes, I felt it, I had felt it before...it's like when you drink an energy drink and feel the caffeine giving you energy" So her options were either to fall prey to homicidal rage or train "Heh...a training arc, I should train Claus too"

In the afternoon they tell ghost stories.

"I have one, let's see...Once upon a time there was a hunter who had gone too deep into the forest...by the time he wanted to go back, he was very tired and lost, until he found a cabin at dusk, it was an abandoned cabin, but he was so tired that he decided to spend the night there, something that made him feel uneasy upon entering the cabin, it was that it was full of disturbing portraits of strange, deformed, mutilated people, eventually, exhaustion got the better of him and he fell asleep, and the next morning when he woke up, he realized that the portraits were not portraits, but...windows"

Ghost story told, just in time when Leon kills the mood, he also takes the opportunity to startle Claus by suddenly touching his shoulder.

Irene encourages Claus to join Francine before she herself unleashes her forbidden moves https://youtu.be/x2iKC0C32-g?t=34s after finishing, Claus is taken to the wheat, from afar she raises an eyebrow and gives him a thumbs up for reaching second base.

...

Tragedy strikes the group when Leon is shot in the back.
"Come on Leon, hold on, Rosy can treat you, go!" But no matter how much she shouted, she couldn't change reality, 4 shots to the chest would do that to a person. "Shit..." The rest get off the bus, Claus speaks to her, "It doesn't matter anymore..."

Each person deals with grief differently. Irene can only stare at the Frenchman's body with a knot in her stomach. She didn't know him too well, damn it, she couldn't say she liked him much after what happened on the bus when they left Marco behind... and yet this ex-assassin had shared his wisdom, they shared a roof, and he surely would have been dead if he hadn't received help from her.

"DAMMIT!" She punches the side of the bus with her fist before getting back on.

Dejectedly, she climbs the stairs onto the bus and returns to her seat, only to find her pistol.
https://youtu.be/ZyK4eJmoV8I
"..."

Her nerves fray, and quickly turn to rage when she notices the missing bullets. She puts the gun away and goes outside... and before anything else, she wanted to confirm something with Leon's body before he was buried, whether with Hank or someone who knew more about guns.

"Can you tell me what weapon they shot him with? You know, caliber and all that."

Whether the answer confirmed her suspicions or not, she was going to speak up anyway.

"EVERYONE, INSIDE, COME ON, INSIDE!" She calls everyone inside, and insists quite a bit, she would even drag someone if necessary. Upon entering, she slams the bus door shut with force, takes out her gun and removes the magazine, leaving it on the floor.

"There's something fishy going on here, and nobody leaves until we figure it out." She sounds serious and crosses her arms, standing in the middle of the aisle, blocking the path to the door. "Let's recap, Leon was outside when he was shot, Hank wakes me up, I look for my gun and it's gone, I go outside and we see Leon wounded, Claus looks for my gun, he doesn't find it either, and now I've come back inside and suddenly it's back in my seat, with 4 bullets missing. Am I missing something?" She says this and tucks her hair out of sight. "So unless my pistol came to life and shot Leon 4 times, for the four bullets that are missing, there's something strange here. And we're not leaving until we figure it out, does anyone object to that?" She looks around. "Was anyone else awake before hearing the shots? Did you see anything strange?"

She had to rule out possibilities.
Otaku con ensoñacion Musgravite-cada2a No.5869 pt
>>5868
10d50 = 250 Can I spend 1 luck for this?, I really want to see what happens, kek
Marie Citrine-45f7d6 No.5870 es
a970d0e911ef78c7f45b370cac41810907585573e80afa0911dfdc3d3a3c0807.png
155 KB 512×768
74647deef865f56d4ce9495ec8e0d7bde7a54f52ed632764185fb67c5a4551e1.jpg
108 KB 861×646
6eed3317a9e8037cfce672447e991bf0dee182dc4e90f3eadbd8d0e807c84ad6.jpg
18 KB 320×240
dba2819adca52a8d947b765575965b57622ffd0055c44298c441e69d1a3e496d.jpg
67 KB 640×640
6cba8c4dec781c2534acc650544e86fc70e541de2308d9d615b14ac5a8fa677a.jpg
607 KB 1220×2168
>>5824
>Marie
Do you want to know what happened? You already know what happened... the caresses and closeness ignited that fire that is felt on the skin and cannot be quenched except with more contact. That night, Marie practiced her kisses until she ran out of breath.

Cornered under her partner, she desired the deepest contact possible, and her tongue intertwined in a lascivious dance with her girlfriend's. The caresses soon devolved into wildness, fumbling at the most desired places between kisses until their mouths and breaths no longer satisfied the fervent desire for contact. They needed skin.

Hands slipped under clothes, fingers tasting every inch of her abdomen and tanned skin, tracing a slow path upwards, discovering more and more of the curves that had her in the same trance worthy of a statue.

Marie buried her head, kissed that ideal shape with need as the tip of her nose traced down to the cleavage, she couldn't help but fill herself with its chocolate fragrance. Soon she joined Luz, letting herself be undressed. Naked, and without the shadows as a veil, she lay down with her face painted with sadness. She covered one of her breasts with a hand, and part of the other with her forearm. She paused the moment with some sadness, with the tacit understanding that she felt like the least attractive of the pair.

"D-do... do I please you...?"

Perhaps she didn't need an answer, or at least not a verbal one, for Luz to manage to make her lower her arms. Surrendering again, letting the last clothes fall.

They felt themselves without barriers, and joined legs. The unstable and uncomfortable hammock became secondary once their other lips rubbed against each other, making pleasure the only thing on their minds. Intense, pleasure that took her to the limit every second. Time was lost in the movements, and the night passed in repeated climaxes.

...

Marie was left like Mexico's 'real alien', dry. Her partner has too much energy.

"U-uh..."

She raised a trembling little finger.

"I-I need... w-water..."

She crawls as best she can to the edge of the hammock. She lowers a leg, feels for the ground with her thumb, and then plants her foot to get down. She walks two steps, exhausted, her tongue hanging out from thirst... and then...

Sliiip

"!"

Her eyes flew open wide as her foot went up and her back went down as if she were doing Ibrahimović's bicycle kick.

"Waaa-"

She exclaims, it felt like slow motion. She then understood how clowns who slip on banana peels feel. There was no escape... She wanted water and found a puddle.

"OWW!"

She falls with the upper part of her back and a bit of the back of her head first. It sounds like slapping a cymbal, and it's fitting, because she feels as silly as a cartoon.
...blame... the hammock..." -somehow-

...
>>5825
>Marie
And then, she woke up abruptly.

"Ah, ouuu!" -then she faceplants into bananas- "agh..."

She turns over, puts on her glasses, and moves away a bit, muttering complaints.

"Mrmrmr stupid... wood and... s-stupid bananas and... s-stupid everything..."

As she gets down, she clutches her head.

"Ou..." -she rubs the bump- "nfff... Aaahhh..." -she groans like Peter. Griffin- "That hurt like hell..." -she looks around, sees herself in some kind of storage, with pineapples... mangoes...-

(Did you see that?)

Mango.

(MANGO. MANGO. MANGO.)

(tu tu tutútututu)

https://youtu.be/5yXdpVCmTGc?si=a6FFX_3mZM6l6ULn
(...no, Marie. Seriousness.)

(...?)

She looks at the place again, squinting and inspecting. She feels somewhat out of sorts, her mind is a limbo, she doesn't know if she remembers or not the reason she's standing there, and it hardly matters to dwell on it because something stronger than her tells her she wants to move forward. She doesn't question it, as if being halfway there was the most normal thing in the world, and she leaves because she thinks she feels that's what she wants.

She reaches the outside with her little hand on her head, discovering the where and the when... Well no, just the where. They travel on a relic across an extensive body of water inhabited by giant statue bodies, and temples that rise high enough to bother airplanes. Marie's mouth hangs open looking at it all, the flag confirms it. This is... Thailand, apparently.

(Wow... And I thought comics exaggerated when they put so many ethnic monuments on a single page...)

Apparently, it wasn't micro-racism, they just... well... do that.

But, among so many statues, there was a real person. Doakes, Marie doesn't feel like running into him for some reason today, so she takes advantage of him trying to farm aura to turn and take a loooong, slow step, barely planting the tip of her foot on the ground to make as little noise as possible. With velociraptor hands and all, being as comically elusive as possible. But nonetheless.

<Griffin!

"Damn it!" -she shouts in a low voice, closing her eyes and shaking her head while contracting her body, like Homer in a d'oh- sigh

She puts on a brave face with her nerves pulling at the corners of her lips to avoid complete composure, turns with a drop of sweat on her forehead and extends her arms.

"O-oh, sergeant! I- uh- I- I didn't s-see you... Ha...hahaha..." -she laughs nervously- "D-do you need something...?"

...

Land ahoy! A coastal town, probably a fishing village, or something. It looks quite empty from the outside, but 'from the outside' is sometimes deceiving. The barge stops, they disembark one by one, the lady doesn't want to go first. She gets off second, with a little hop that lands her on the dock, next to nothing but the sea.

"...hm..."
The lack of boats does strike her, but she doesn't know how much it should, so not enough to point out that it seems odd. But a memory crosses her mind, the knowledge that this is nothing more and nothing less than a ghost town.

(Ok... that... that could be a bit creepy...)

(I don't like ghost towns...)

(I mean. I'm not an expert on ghost towns, but-)

However, some children come out of nowhere. Marie startles, blinking a bit as she sees them coming with outstretched hands.

(W-huh?, Wasn't it empty?)

"H-uh, h-hello- uh- I don't understand what-"

Her tongue falters, the language barrier matters little when universal gestures are involved. Parasites, probably if you gave her a penny, 20 more would come out from under a rock. That's what someone less fainthearted than Marie would think, but she, on the other hand.

"Oh-! Yes- I uh, let me-"

Her hand hurries to find some money. But as she pats her pocket, a scream makes her jump.

<Griffin!

"AH!" -Marie literally jumps from the sudden shout, she turns quickly- "W-WHAT?!" -she exclaims with the fright still on her- "I-I mean- What... S-Sir?"

<You're not on vacation and we're not an NGO, go take pictures around town, that's what you're paid for.

"O-oh... Heavens..." -a bit cruel, isn't it?- "Uh- I uh- I'm g-going!"

She turns and heads for the town. Reality had to be documented, her camera was the device that would capture life, or death, on its film. Or so Doakes would think, because here Marie doesn't see much worth wasting camera film on. Although she can't help but feel a bit paranoid precisely because of that emptiness... although perhaps more because of those suspicious glances in the corners of the alley that she can't help but return with some consternation.

(I don't really like this place...)

(It feels... Like... wrong, somehow... I-I don't know if that's the word... b-but like something is wrong...)

<Contradiction.

"?" -she looks at him confused- "Huh?"

<The houses, they're abandoned but very well maintained. Those ceramic decorations on that facade over there are worth a fortune... I thought this was a fishing village lost to the ends of the earth.

"Uh..." -he has a point- "Huh... Well, for starters, there was supposed to be no one here, but we've already seen several people... and..."

She can't help it. It's something stronger than her! Because this is a dream or something and free will is in doubt, she ends up opening a window finding a bizarre sight at best with the XX-inch TV and its own Buddha.

"But what..." -her hands rise slowly and...-

snap
"And they had a TV!, Huge!" -she spread her arms- "Bigger than me!" -waves her outstretched arms- "and a personal Buddha... Who has that? I-I mean- there are people- but I mean, life-sized!, Gold!, And inside the house?! I don't know... A bit weird. And... uh-" -she brings her hand to her chin thoughtfully- "...I don't understand why vagrants don't take those houses if they're empty..."

Doakes grunts, and turns his back to her.

"Uh... S-Sergeant...?" -that conversation was over- sigh

...

They board an icon of the third world. Marie looks out with her cheek on her hand, imitating Leon Kennedy at the beginning of Resident Evil 4. They navigate a jungle, and as night falls, with Marie already looking half-asleep even though she doesn't get sleepy in cars... they reach a wall that wakes her up. Not suddenly, her interest makes her lift her face from her hand, and look with slightly wider eyes, at those walls scrawled with what almost looks like desperation. She can't help but raise an eyebrow before they stop.

Marie gets out. She stretches a bit, and in the background there are goodbyes, with explanations that are at least a little worrying.

<The island is cursed by the sea

(Sh-shut up, I believe you!)

(Damn...)

(M-my fault for eavesdropping...)

They end up at a mansion, to see who had hired them, so to speak. A businesswoman, Marie couldn't say her name, does she not know it, or not remember it? She couldn't say either. But what mattered was the present.

<Me.

"?" -Marie looks confused-

<I am the local government. I bought the island.

Meaning, she could have said that from the beginning. She made it confusing before on purpose...

Regardless, the situation is summarized. YouTuber, millionaire, problems with the natives... Marie isn't really sure what she's doing in this room, of course, the information doesn't bother her, but she feels like she's not contributing anything and the whole story makes her uncomfortable.

<Is it necessary?
<It might have to do with your streak of bad luck.

"...? Oh my-"

She covers her mouth to stifle the horror. The sight was horrifying, it was like seeing two faces, the uncensored version where it looks like her face could fall apart at any moment.

<It's less bad than it looks...

(X!) -she presses X to doubt-

<I was probably bitten by an insect, it's infested with them... I trust you brought insecticide.

(...God... Can an insect really do that...?)

She'd like to believe her...

They leave. The inspection of the mansion is a failure. Although they are entrusted, later, Marie has a small moment of lucidity.

(What... what was I doing...?)

It's strange. It's like she knows she's looking for something, but at the same time there's something missing. She shakes off that thought. She simply goes to her room for the rest of the day.

2/? Maybe 3. In the worst case, well 4 kek
Rolero Bicolor Zoisite-4175ef No.5871 es
fdafee795fd5a589546afe88533e8c3bb49de49eccf310bd0782bb3187125588.webp
102 KB 2362×2362
f23103cf329c1f20f8956c6be135192584d366b63fec1fe0dbf8cd60f4e7c2d0.jpg
186 KB 790×1200
>>5868
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 68, Hour 1)
HP: 170/170
Energy: 73/80
Hunger: 38/40 - Thirst: 38/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 11
-Stamina: 12
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 2/4
Towel (Bloody)
Almond water bottle with salt (13/15)
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Maximum secret of the body's judgment on its own (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it is used).

Level 10
What trick?

Claus: If I tell you, it wouldn't be a trick anymore.

He says with a calm smile as he moves aside, leaving the space free for you to focus on the entity. Your eyes fixed on The Smiler, the creature approaches by leaping in arcs, its dark fur looks like a blurry streak, and when it reaches your side, it knocks you down with a blow from its flank!

You fall into the snow and roll before getting back up. Slime tries again, this time you manage to dodge it, and the next one too, but the one after that hits your back and you're knocked down with your face in the snow.

Success rate: 65.74%! You dodged more than half the attacks. Now your feet feel lighter (+1 Agility). Claus runs and helps you up.

Claus: If you want to make it harder, we can blindfold you.

...

During the sharing around the campfire, you told your particular horror story. Everyone listens attentively, Claus does so biting his nails. The crackling of the fire and the howling of the wind set the mood for your story.

Claus: S-Scary! Surrounded by The Windows without even knowing it.

Rosynini: Why didn't the entities try to grab the hunter? Were they idiots...?

The sharp mare questions as she raises a bottle of tequila between her hooves.

Claus: The Windows don't stray too far from their frames... Maybe the distance wasn't right for an attack.

The Florida man looks at you.

Hank: Stories about monsters don't work as well here as they do outside. We already know they're real, and that takes away the mystery.

He decides to change the subject, with a doubt that gnaws at him, like almost everyone else.
Hank: What's the first thing you'll do when you get back to reality?

A question for which some already had their answer. Francine says she'll get drunk while raising two glasses of liquor and shaking her ass. Rosynini comments that she'll have to find a job to support her future baby. Nadjela supposes she'll go back to university studies. Claus simply looks away and stays silent.

León: I'll open a flower shop.

Says the mercenary from the bus. The answer makes more than one raise an eyebrow, such a profession doesn't suit the Frenchman at all.

León: It would be interesting to try to make something grow and develop... Instead of the opposite.

Hank: Believe me when I tell you that development is when you get the biggest headaches.

While you decide whether or not to answer the question, you see out of the corner of your eye Francine taking Claus to the wheat. You offer them your silent blessing, and get up to dance with the rest.

...

León is dead.

You hit the side of the bus out of frustration at the event. You get on, head down, only to find the gun under your seat... All your alarms go off and you run outside. Claus and Hank are crouching, slowly turning the body towards the hole, they are already at the edge, they just need a push.

Hank: On one, on two, on-

You appear with your question. Hank looks at you, not knowing what you're getting at.

Hank: No buckshot marks, no rifle either... I'd say medium caliber, like a pistol.

He points to your waist.

Hank: Just like the one you have in your pocket. It's the ideal size for a child... Damn ice brats.

The Florida man looks at Claus and nods. Claus understands the signal, and together they finish throwing the stiff through the hole. Claus stands up, Hank does the same and his knees crack. They look at León's back in the distance.

Hank: I never thought I'd say this, but there goes a good Frenchman...

Claus: Do you think his spirit will go to heaven with good people?

Hank: I don't know, son... Maybe... The Lord is mer-
You start screaming like crazy, everyone present is startled and looks at you worriedly. You grab Nadjela by the shoulders and push her inside the bus. When everyone is inside, you pull the lever next to the driver's seat that locks the bus door.

Francine: Irene, w-what are you doing? I-Is this your revenge for what I-I did?

She asks, still with irritated eyes, looking like she's about to cry.

Nadjela: Don't pull me like that again, I hate fascists.

You pull out your gun! The group backs away.

Hank: Girl, have you lost your mind? Put that down right now.

Rosynini: O-Oh, by not brushing her teeth, a bacteria entered through her cavities to her brain and drove her mad. She's going to kill us all!

You place the gun on the floor. The shoulders of those present visibly relax. You express your suspicions... You get gasps of surprise, murmurs among them, they look at each other with a mixture of worry and caution.

Francine: I-I was too drunk to hear anything....

Rosynini: And I stand by the bacteria theory.

Hank: Okay, this is ridiculous.

He stands in front of everyone and raises his hands to get their attention.

Hank: We all know each other here and we know none of us had a reason to kill Leon. This is the razor of that-guy-everyone-mentions... The one who said the simplest explanation is the most likely. Ice boy, ambush, it all adds up.

Nadjela: Well, I only saw a couple of footprints.

She announces, silence falls and everyone looks at her.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PUTzuHGUuX4
The young woman sighs and scratches her dreadlocks, then lowers her hands to her patched jacket, pulls a marijuana cigarette and a lighter from her pocket. She lights it and starts smoking. The atmosphere is too tense for anyone to complain about the smoke and the stench.

Nadjela: Everyone got off like crazy, to the point I thought it wouldn't work... But I followed my hunch and checked, I saw a couple of footprints going towards the wheat. I wanted to explore more, but I was terrified of going too far. Maybe the attacker went that way...

Hank: The ice boy...

Nadjela: They were adult footprints.

Hank: The ice man?
The university student shrugs and clarifies that perhaps the trail of footprints continues outside. Another voice interrupts.

Eleanor: I was awake... I like to watch the night, it's calming, my favorite time.

She replies while gazing at the landscape through the window.

Eleanor: Dad's right, there was an ice boy outside and he shot Leon...

She forms a gun with her fingers and points at the glass.

Eleanor: Right in the chest.

Hank: I told you! Starting an inquisition won't do any good. Nor will looking for ghosts in the wheat field, that would also be dangerous and leave us vulnerable. I recommend burying Leon... And continuing down the road.

Most seem to agree with the idea. The thought of looking for a killer among them already makes them too uncomfortable.

Claus: B-But! What about Irene's gun?

The blond raises his voice while trying to help you out.

Claus: The bullets... That the weapon disappeared... There's something strange. A-a-and...

Hank: Okay, okay!

The man from Florida frowns and looks at you.

Hank: If you want to keep up this nonsense, fine. Who do you think the killer is, Columbo?

The marijuana answers before you.

Nadjela: If the killer is among us... They must have hidden in the wheat field, waited for everyone to come out, and secretly joined the crowd. They also had an opportunity to go upstairs and return the gun to its place, after Claus searched for it unsuccessfully.

Hank: For that to be true, my daughter has to be lying, and I didn't raise a liar!

Nadjela avoids Hank's annoyed gaze and concentrates on continuing to smoke her weed. Francine approaches the university student and asks for some while scratching her arms. Nadjela shares with her and glances at you out of the corner of her eye.

Nadjela: We'll finish sooner if we identify the NOT guilty. I rule out Rosynini... For obvious physiognomic reasons.

Rosynini: Hey, that's racist!

The university student ignores the accusation.

Nadjela: I'll state right away that I hated Leon... He was a killer, pure scum, a dog for the highest bidder... But that doesn't mean I had reasons to stain my hands and be like him. Therefore, I rule myself out.
Marie Citrine-45f7d6 No.5872 es
18354cfea989c5c85e9cdd7c9f36e861b16e301762bfbf12bc4967e581c288aa.jpg
542 KB 1220×886
3c348383c67e895b8ed592427dd1ec6c9d5d6ab77bd6cea2ff3be975317a8ac7.png
284 KB 527×474
af6117e3fced7e08530a44fcc8bce7a0bc0900232be8c06323b2353339397f5d.jpg
180 KB 850×1066
f3f5ac3c47a44edaba3ab6382f1acd35d899dbdc62efa29d70f3cc4686dc65dc.png
316 KB 464×632
89bc8f237f97268e53251999c000805be8a8bd3983faf01bdfb8a9c7115309f8.gif
61 KB 220×135
>>5826
>Marie (Future or something?)
Doubts had filled her little head for a moment, but they dissolved. She doubts many things about everyone anyway. Except when she grabs her phone and feels good. She doesn't have to look much further than the next message, or the next video, outside of those little bursts when she feels she needs to find something, and she searches the web until she finds it.

Such a fervent desire attacked her once she remembered something. And she navigated the seas of Google, TikTok, and YouTube until her curiosity was satisfied with that video...

https://youtu.be/d5q8eDopXn4?si=yFMmFNN4NjEaGMfz
"Haha... I knew I wasn't imagining that other version."

On less important matters, she also read about this woman from before, the businesswoman, but she discovers little beyond what she already knows. Businesswoman. Jewelry. Ironically, this search felt less productive than watching TikTok... so she would go back to doing that until she heard the insistent knocking at the door.

"Hm?"

On the count of the fingers of one hand. Does she understand this because it's an established signal, or for some other reason? She can't be entirely sure, but what happens is that she understands it, and her body tells her to attend without question. She opened the door, and found herself facing who she already saw coming.

"S-Sergeant..." -she can't say it's a complete surprise, but she also can't guess what's happening- "What... What's wrong?"

Marie (the real one)
"AH!"

She sits down where she was resting with a single, abrupt movement; the nightmare had left her more sped up than that motorcycle. She gets down in a hurry, her heart racing and her breathing close behind. She sweats, desperately nervous. She looks in all directions, and doesn't know how to take this change of scenery. She knows nothing, doesn't feel like herself, only feels thirst, haste, and an overwhelming fear that seems to be what's moving her.

She hurries, stumbles, falls to her knees, and her hands crush her backpack. She opens it with the haste of an airport security guard searching a Taliban member's, and pulls out the water bottle. She stands up clumsily while opening it as if her life depended on it, and raises it as if she were going to pour salt on her tongue.

And she receives a slap.

"OW!"

It hurt. The bottle falls, Marie looks in its direction. Her hand takes a backseat, trembling like the rest of her soon will when she finally regains her senses, seeing the darkness falling from the plastic.

"..."

Marie slowly turns her head to face Luz, trauma in her eyes.

"Luz.... I-I think... I have a problem..."

Well, you're lucky I like your role, because I always found 'sleepy' turns so tedious! kek

3/4 (final)
Marie Citrine-45f7d6 No.5873 es
fa9832b99dbee6b21d522ce1b22964dd5d223dcf33d04cb9efabcd82a9e68eb3.jpg
36 KB 519×406
f9dd156a9453647559c4bbb5e4328731c940c6fb426cbc7775daa21362c925fa.jpg
41 KB 480×360
92d363390595b2dd75203d031cf96a40015f8abadce0a1d803db095347aa564e.jpg
256 KB 600×900
db454fc7863cfc532799779d09a06ddc5404fc01f3eecd65699fa305a651b8d1.png
713 KB 694×750
cb7007b5686e12a86ec153d4952570583534e0dd525c74727793d3580346bdb0.jpg
61 KB 462×663
>>5827
How many experience points do I have? I don't even remember anymore
>Marie
Luz... Something's wrong with me.

Luz... I think I have a problem.

Luz...

She said something along those lines... She really didn't want to talk about it. In the end, when she said it, she didn't really think about it. She just did it.

I'd rather that be ignored, but the truth is she can't help but worry. Those nightmares are getting worse, more real, more... more real, that's the worst part.

Marie's walk is with her lips in a diagonal of discomfort when it should be a nice moment, with Luz covering her eyes and all. This is worse, because it ends up making her think more, although there's a certain limit to how absorbed one can be, and the video game sounds poke the bubble.

"Uh...?"

<Ta-da!

Luz lets her see. And Marie, amidst her discomfort, allows herself to gasp in wonder upon finding miles of colors, machines, of... joy.

"Humina humina humina."

She stammers while enjoying the sights through the neon filter that transfers to her glasses, Marie turns observing everything until... UNDERTALE, Marie jumps in surprise so big that her butt is at Luz's face level.

"UNDERTALE?!"

THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE! Marie runs faster than in that dream until she's face to face with the machine. Finding... a plushie machine. The four-eyes' mouth hangs open in surprise, but it's a welcome sight nonetheless.

"Huh. Cool."

<Hey! It's Momo again.

"Uh?" -she looks at Luz, looks at her finger, looks at the Frisk plushie- "Hmm, well, Luz. Actually, that one is Frisk. I think I already told you... And besides, I'm sure it's not official, because at least until the day I arrived here, Toby hadn't released Frisk or Chara plushies...."

She hurries to try the machine.

"BUT I WANT IT ANYWAY!"

She moves the lever... nothing. She sticks out her tongue and shakes it with a bit more insistence. Nothing.

"Hmm..." -last rattle, the claw doesn't move- "jum..." -she leaves that and scratches her head looking at the machine- "osh... why isn't it working...? Don't tell me we need real coins." -she says, and looks at Luz who was looking at the details- "...Luz?"

She guides her to a token machine. She sacrifices a mini moai insert scream and disappearance sound and in return they get... well, tokens, they're not going to get beer from the token machine.

"Huh. Technology... back... Backroomer." -weird Backrooms stuff- "cool."

Now all that was left was to choose a game. Marie smiles.

"W-what do you want to play?!" -she lets her choose-

<That one looks fun.

"Hm...?" -a button, a polybius- "uh..." -Marie grabs her by the shoulders and pulls her aside a little, like someone protecting their child from some crazy-looking guy- "n-no... n-not that one... Believe me... A-besides, what's fun about it? Ha... I-it's just ONE button..." Visual novel """gameplay"""

<Uuuuh, Godzilla for the NES. Wasn't that a movie?

"Ahem... W-well, tie-in games are usually made for movies, but that one is original and- uh... I-I wouldn't play it here- i-it's too repetitive anyway...! Let's look at something else."
This was Marie's zone. And they had the ticket system! Who knows how many things they could redeem... Just by playing... It's like a dream come true!

"Okay, Luz!, Are you ready to dive into the wonderful world of video games?!" -she exclaims, waving her hand in front of her to point at everything in front of them- "WELL, HERE WE GO!"

...

"BUT FIRST, THE UNDERTALE PLUSHIE MACHINE!"

She turns towards it and tries to grab a plushie. Well, Frisk, then she'd debate between keeping it or gifting it to Momo as a souvenir because that would be very funny.

1d50 = 1

...

The first step: a two-player game. Marie looks around, thinking about what might work... Metal Slug? Great, but not for Luz. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in Time? Epic, but maybe too difficult for her, just like Sunset Riders god

Then, a most eye-catching blue and yellow machine stops the nerd.

"OH!" -Marie startles- "Luz, look!" -she points to the machine- "LOSINZO! That's the series you like and-and it's a beat 'em up, look!" -her voice falters after saying that- "uh... They also call it 'me against the whole neighborhood'" -she explains and runs towards the machine- "waah... Look. It only has two buttons. Seems easy" -she looks at her- "shall we try it?"

1d50 = 24

...

Marie stands like a pitcher on the path made by a machine. She holds a ball with both hands while squinting with the seriousness of a cowboy at the numbered targets.

"Get ready to see the skee-ball queen in action~"

Luz holds her own ball. Marie suggested that perhaps these more physical games might be something Luz would enjoy more. And even though she's selling herself as an ace, she'll have barely played this two, or at most 3 times before.

"Here it goes!"

1d50 = 1

Regardless of the outcome, after that she would look around. There doesn't seem to be anyone in this place. She puts on a mischievous face, like someone who knows more than they're letting on. She pulls out another token as if to start another round, but first, she asks a question.

"Did you know it's super easy to cheat at skee-ball if no one sees you...?"

Marie would let Luz decide if they would do some serious mischief! The typical thing of climbing up and putting the balls directly into the 50-point slot to score a lot very quickly.

...b-but only once.

...

"This one is MANDATORY."

Air hockey. Marie crouches down to insert the token, not stopping her chatter.

"I'm sure you like it! O-or you already know it. They're great!" -she inserts the token, the wind blows, and the puck drops with that characteristic sound-

Marie picks up the puck and places it in the middle of the table. She takes her position and points at Luz with a confident look.

"Let's make a bet! If I win... you give me a kiss." -she states with mock seriousness-

And if she loses?

"Uh... W-well... What do you want if you win?" -anything-

Marie would try not to go all out on her beloved.

1d40 = 26

...

"Me and my tactics, you and your bad aim!" -she sings while running from one wall to another- "I deserve to win! Heh-heh okay" -she jumps over a small rectangle to gain height- "I'm here to kill!"

Laser Tag. Is that Luz?!

"PEW PEW!" -THEY'RE GOING TO END UP VERY BADLY-

SHE LASERS!

1d50 = 23

"Call Of Duty Ghost..."
...

And I thought of some more scenes but the idea was just to fill the images so as not to overload you kek
Marisa Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5874 es
>>5866
>HA! If I had a son as cowardly as you, I'd kill myself!

"Nobody would want you as a dad either, not a son, let alone a mother." The first impression he gets of the guy isn't good. It's good to know he's not that related to Charli, whom he feels the need to defend from the comment the freak makes. "No wonder you want to change bodies." He looks him up and down. "It wouldn't do you much good anyway."

The subject almost puts him in a bad mood, but he has better things to do than argue with a ghost, because the truth is Merlin is right that the place is going to fill up with many more ghosts if he stays there waiting for death.

>D-Do you still accept me? After so many people are suffering because of my selfish wish?

"Eh, people always worry about themselves before others, I do. It's not like you wanted to harm people on purpose, you just didn't know and had no other choice." He knows people who don't even have enough conscience to regret that someone died because of them within their own family, and he doesn't see them as monsters either, just people he doesn't want to hang out with.

The fact that nobody's perfect basically sums it up, he's not a saint either, he just knows he likes Charli and he's saved his life more times than he's put it in danger, so he doesn't blame him for being forced to help the creature that wants to freeze everyone.

"What? Was it the eye now? How weird." He has little experience using it for obvious reasons, so he's not sure how it works, he's just glad it's still working and that it's not becoming more arachnid from using it.

>I-It doesn't matter. Uh... Y-Your... Your eyeball fell out.

"Mm!?" Luckily, the eye goes back into place and also works. It's probably the first time he's seriously worried about something in his body since they insisted that asking that vendor was a bad idea.

The events unfold like the last time, to the point where he shoots a warning arrow at Charli so they won't shoot him with something worse and he can reunite with him faster.

>A-Ah!

"Mm, I think it's worse if you take the arrow out. Better just stay like that and pretend you're just any injured girl, it'll probably work. If not, then we'll get out of here, I've spent a lot of time in the same level anyway." He doesn't know if everyone else would accept Charli so easily, but he doesn't have time to think about it right now.

What Charli does with the wand gives him a slight chill, but it's so little that he ignores it and aims at Bill to see if he can do anything to prevent the massacre.

Strength: 1d50 = 10 Two arrows.
Agility: 1d50 = 10
Otaku con ensoñacion Cassiterite-f83213 No.5875 es
f12cf5fcf3de94254466525ada3195ab2273c40be8be47706af32bbb659cfd21.jpg
106 KB 728×615
59db736912aee5b15a76e1e9c286bce4813bcc4bd420b2fea18ccac7716893da.webp
16 KB 300×427
>>5871
>Irene

Her intensive course has a positive percentage of results, that's what she liked. What she didn't like was having her face in the snow.

"Mffmfmrph" She mutters something unintelligible "What, my eyes?..." She starts thinking, imagining herself as a blind samurai badass who didn't rely on her vision, having the rest of her senses augmented "Let's do it!"

She went for another attempt, now on hard 10d50 = 226

...

Her story isn't that terrifying, she falls prey to the average wanderer already being accustomed to living in a horror movie.

"Heh, you're right Hank. It's scarier when you're outside the storage room"

>What will be the first thing they do when they return to reality?

The question hits her like a brick, sitting down, she hugs her knees to her chest, now speaking more melancholically. Each person answers in their own way, even Leon has a surprising answer.

"Go home, and hug my dad" She pauses for a second, looking away at Claus, whom she grabs by the arm to drag him closer to her "And then I have to introduce him to this little sunflower" She ruffles his hair for a second before letting go and letting him become a man.

...

Her doubts are confirmed and she calls for intervention to start the investigation of this mystery, or not so mysterious.

"I don't want revenge against anyone, and I didn't get to learn in class what fascism is" She presents her case, and there are varied reactions.

Hank calls for calm but the black woman interrupts with her theory.

"Ok, Nad has a point, and I'm not going to say Eleanor is lying either, do you remember if anyone was missing from the bus when that happened?" She asks the girl "As for the other thing, I was sleeping inside, Hank is a witness, Claus was with me and Slime also lacks thumbs. And obviously Hank couldn't have done it either because he stayed outside and couldn't have returned the gun"

"The girls would also be ruled out, obviously" She looks at Eleanor and Sue "And Francine was also in here, right?... And you Heater, did you see anything?" and that would be everyone, I think, of those who survived at least, kek

Anyway, there were no more suspects, she scratches her head "Ugh... this looked simpler in Detective Conan.... Right!, why didn't I think of that before?, Claus, the Eye of Argos. We lose nothing by trying"

When she had the Eye of Argos in her hands, she would try and give it a shake "Show us who shot Leon... please" She says out loud so everyone understands and also thinks hard about the same thing "Please work..."
Rolero Sodalite-fe2e64 No.5876 es
Here OP. Sorry for the delay. This week has been complicated due to IRL matters.
Rangato Cat's Eye Chrysoberyl-7364d3 No.5877 es
51b485e773cf3ecd744ab593be7e696cb1d6f0d8be5b7fbfe81ba29741441a5c.jpg
212 KB 1512×2016
>>5850
Marietta says she doesn't look like Nyarla.

[Oh, please, don't put yourself down like that, little one. I know no one can be as perfect as my mistress, but you have your own charms too, you know... It's already hard for you to meet, but if you do, you'd be best friends...]

(...)

Marietta is trying to somehow fit the whole melon-plant into a blender, which is... unlikely to succeed, besides being rushed and unnecessary. Aside from the fact that a whole watermelon doesn't fit in a household blender, Ghasto and Rando are blocking her way to it with a face somewhat similar to a (._.)

[Uh, little Marietta, greed breaks the bag... This plant is capable of generating watermelons and even throwing them, but if you kill it, it won't be able to do that anymore... I didn't think I'd have to explain this.]

[Putting that aside... Isn't it too cruel?]

If she really wants her watermelon juice, she can use the second watermelon the plant has, the one it was holding with that limb that looked like a catapult and which it generates from time to time. Whether it can be used as a weapon is uncertain, but at least that should save its life in the girl's eyes.

[And you didn't answer... What do you want to call it...?]

She reiterates the question and hopes that once its importance is explained, it will let her generate watermelons for any recipe they have... It's not that watermelon is a miracle food, but it will do if they ever get tired of canned food.

(...)

Regarding the strange object Nick gave her, Ghasto raises an eyebrow and looks at the sky with a distrustful face. Knowing this place and everything she's seen, she doesn't try it but keeps it. There are several options as she sees it. Either the square transforms her into said animal, or whatever comes out is generated or transported to the house in some inexplicable way.

[Thanks for the explanation, but maybe later... Rando needs to prepare better.]
Rolls dice and closes his eyes. It's reckless to run tests right now, at least if his suspicions are correct. It could become a food source later, but with the real possibility of dying or getting tricked, he decides against trying it. Though it does intrigue him what exactly "human" means... With the dark-haired girl here, bringing more people or abominations is the last thing he wants.

(...)

Marietta hears where he's from, or at least where he was raised, and comments exactly what any team calor member would say.

[I'm actually quite at home here... But I get it, it's hard to endure without experience or proper clothing. Now that I think about it... Could you make me another sweater from your hair?]

The one he had was destroyed and it still hurts, but there's nothing he can do about it unless he asks the same manufacturer again.

[If it means anything... That sweater saved my life against the Solitary, otherwise I'd already be mashed pulp... In a way, you saved my life, Marietta. I promise I'll take better care of it...]

Without meaning to imply she should go bald from giving too much hair, Rando won't push much further if the answer is no—then he'll just have to suck it up and stick with his spiky armor.

[Stepfather, huh? I guess he's like my Don... Did your parents sell you too? I suppose things worked out well for you to care about him like that, eh...]

He recalls his own father, or the closest thing he ever had, since again, their relationship was more professional. If he provided money and a loyal bodyguard, he'd keep him around as long as needed, even teaching him useful things, sometimes unintentionally.

[Although... I'd also like to marry you someday. Now I know it's more complicated than just saying it, but... I don't think I'll change my mind...]

While continuing his exercises with her on top as if nothing, it seems the cat fulfilled its part by giving him a bit of common sense so he wouldn't go around making assumptions—though that doesn't mean he learns quickly.

[We don't lack anything because we're a good team... I handle the heavy work, you take care of... well, me... And Ghasto is really useful, like a wildcard... Though now I can't do much; I shouldn't have let my wounds "heal on their own" like always...]
to

the

end,

he

completes

her

set

and

even

a

little

extra

with

her

on

top.

He'll

probably

ask

her

to

do

it

more

often

until

the

cat

deems

it

optimal

for

her

recovery;

after

all,

exercise

is

vital

to

keep

working.

[Speaking

of

that...

If

your

muscles

still

hurt,

I

can

massage

you—

my

Don

taught

me

how...

Though

he

mostly

did

it

for

big

fish...]

He

gets

up,

and

they

should

start

preparing

to

learn

how

to

cook.

They

still

have

a

long

way

to

go,

but

at

least

now

they

talk

and

take

it

easy.

(...)

In

the

following

days,

something

strange

was

happening.

By

direct

order

of

the

kitten,

Rando

wore

his

spiked

armor

even

while

sleeping—

this

because

he

already

feared

something

might

happen

after

antagonizing

the

dark-skinned

guy

so

often.

Seeing

his

shifts

in

attitude

every

time

he

dealt

with

him,

like

a

kid

having

his

candy

snatched—

six

days

are

enough

to

know

he

wasn't

born

yesterday,

and

enough

time

to

prepare

in

case

he

tries

something

risky...

[Hm...]

[Wow...

Hello,

little

Nicky,

I

wondered

what

could

be

making

that

noise...

Come

on,

come

on...]

There

was

no

noise,

but

both

play

along.

Ghasto

is

by

his

side

as

he

sleeps—

again,

for

two

reasons:

because

he's

never

needed

to

sleep

nor

has

he

ever

since

he

arrived.

Being

a

cat

and

eternal

guardian

of

his

mistress,

and

to

make

sure

this

Nicky

doesn't

try

attacking

Rando

while

he's

asleep...

[Haaaahh...

Like

monkeys

in

heat...]

They'd

descend

to

the

front,

and

the

feline

would

let

out

a

sigh,

staying

beside

his

ward.

Rando,

still

not

turning,

seems

to

be

meditating.

[Hm...

I

see...

I

suppose

Ghasto

was

right—

he's

the

smartest

here,

after

all—

but

are

you

sure

it's

worth

dying

like

this?]

He

finally

picks

up

the

machete

and

swings

it

through

the

air

with

a

couple

of

moves

to

test

his

reflexes.

In

the

end,

he

lets

it

rest

on

his

armor.

What

you're

saying...

doesn't

make

sense,

does

it?

Isn't

it

better

to

attack

me

early

and

kill

me

easily

like

now?

That's

how

it's

usually

done...]
In the world he comes from, there's no such thing as honorable tactics or consideration, so he's learned to play dirty and not die until he's dead. Only first of all, he just tries to confirm if the situation is non-negotiable.

[You'd be useful for fighting the one responsible for the storm and getting out of here, maybe...]

[Give up on that idea. You made your decision and trust was broken... But don't worry, I have an idea to keep you useful even after this situation...]

[Uh-huh...? Well, not everyone can be like Buzzo... Although you're wrong about something... Who told you I'm not seasoned, kid?]

The first thing he has to do is disarm the man with the machete to make him less dangerous, although whether he does it or not depends on his reaction speed, or so he assumes.

Ghasto:
F: 1d50 = 19 A: 1d50 = 37

BANG!

[Eh...]

Rando looks at the source of the shot next to him with wide eyes in confusion.

[You don't expect me to just stand by and do nothing, do you? Although these contraptions are unnecessary for me, I hope they satisfy the system...]

[System?]

[Eyes on the opponent, Rando. It's nothing, let's just say I'll make good use of these long fingers...]

Ghasto uses his transformation into Nyarla to shoot the revolver he reloaded in advance during those 6 days. He also reloaded and stored the rifles just in case, and also...

[BUEGHG...]

He pulls one of the leftover machetes from his mouth and then simply gives it to Rando to have double the power with his attacks... Although he'll try to disarm him first before having to kill him.

Rando:
F: 1d50 = 42 A: 1d50 = 47

>aldo

I don't know what I can really do or how, so I assume you can both use the tools kek. Does reloading cost me a turn, is it by dice? One can do it while the other attacks...

>aldo 2

If Marietta did make him the sweater, he puts it on under the spiked armor. Because it's something he would do and because I'm going to minimax everything minmaxable in the most crumb-like way possible :^)
Rangato Cat's Eye Chrysoberyl-7364d3 No.5878 es
>>5877
Spent luck on Agility reroll in Rando. If it happens, can I do it with Ghasto?

1d50 = 1

>aldo 3

Now that I think about it, can I roll training dice on all those days we skipped and increase stats? Or at least on the 6 you said passed.

>aldo 4

And maybe I'll die for more time, there are memelections on Mars and my planet needs me.
Rolero Native Gold-ce66ea No.5879 es
7f0e2a7d23063f8d45ff3b4a71ffcd84da41bbffd56fbaf3078ddc023798fcc1.jpg
419 KB 2500×3000
>>5867
<Marie Griffin (Day 53, Hour 12)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 64/70
Hunger: 15/21 - Thirst 15/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 17 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 2/4
Super-Cell (Off. Charge 10/16)
Joseph's Charger
-Pink Backpack 6/10
Pencil
Notebook
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White cat headband
Twinkies (Cream. 4/4. 4/4)

Level 37
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hEZ_mJ_5KaAThe duck-boat gondola is rocked by the slow swell of the water in the ceramic canal. You play the video on your phone and show it to Luz. The color and song, the cozy simplicity, makes Luz smile with you.

Luz: We can do that, camp for a day in the woods near the wheat field. You, me, and Momo too... I feel like I've been neglecting her a bit lately.

Neglected by you, she doesn't finish saying it, but you know what she means. Ever since you got a girlfriend, you don't spend as much time with others as you used to.

Luz: And we'll invite the gondola too, of course.

She lets out a giggle that seeks to lighten her previous comment.

Luz: It must be somewhere.

The rubber of the bench inside the duck squeaks as you move to get closer to Luz. She strokes your hand and rewards you with a kiss, blessed pressure on the lips. You assure that "amor" sounds better in Spanish.

Luz: It sounds prettier when you say it.

You enjoy the boat ride. You love each other.

...


Level 34
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Odln_9IUNwLuz: So... Am I dumb?

She comments with a half-smile and a raised eyebrow, the hues of the eternal sunset darken the right half of her expression, the one facing the sea. The statement startles you, you would never say that!

Luz: You just said that what you like is dumb, and since I really like you, 2 + 2 equals...

Math unnerves you and almost knocks you off the moai, but she catches your hands just in time, and helps you straighten up. She strokes your fingers between hers.
Luz: What you're passionate about also defines you, never underestimate that side of yourself. It's like if I said nature is ridiculous... Well, sometimes it is a little...

Her gaze smiles.

Luz: Heh, there was a video of an octopus, very funny...

The video Luz ends up describing is https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lEhYJEQmExE you might know it. The Colombian clarifies she feels bad for the little octopus, the scientists showed no mercy.

The conversation drifts to arriving at level 0, a place you describe as very ugly.

Luz: Actually, I'm not so sure about that...

Her doubt might surprise you. She looks at the ocean, the water is dark as ink.

Luz: Maybe it was the first impression, but perhaps now that we have more experience we could see the labyrinths with better eyes.

Of the level 0 environment, you only remember yellow stationery and the strident buzzing of the lights, nothing worth revisiting.

Luz: Just think about it, there are no places like this anywhere in the world. They are wonderful, in a good and bad way. It's partly a shame it's not as pristine.

Pristine? Luz clenches her jaw and looks at you, for a moment she hesitates whether to share her opinion, but since she trusts you, she sighs and gives in.

Luz: The settlements. There was a time when they didn't exist, nor did the hierarchy, nor the compasses, nor The Ministry... Maybe I'll sound crazy or naive, like a biologist who wants to observe the beauty of the Amazon and ends up with a Phyllobates terribilis on her forehead... But I would have loved to see those backrooms before the, uh, civilization.

She crosses her legs, plants her hands on the moai's crown, and stretches back to look at the sky.

Luz: Surely on the higher levels that feeling persists, but I have no reason to go too high up. Everything I want is close to me.

She throws you a look when saying that last part. It's obvious she includes you in her list of wants. The Colombian tilts her head.

Luz: You must think I'm silly for feeling nostalgic for a time I didn't live through.
You decide it's your moment. You look to break the ice with a joke about the moai. She looks at you with her mouth in an "o", imagines what you said, and bursts out laughing.

Luz: Haha, maybe that's why they built so many!

She's dorky enough to get your joke and find it funny.

Luz: A fall... Is that how you remember it? Your arrival here?

That's not her case.

Luz: I was bringing my grandmother dinner, I turned a corner and appeared in the labyrinth, with only air in my hands. Too bad, spaghetti is my specialty, it would have been good sustenance for the walk.

Luz wearing little clothing in the past is her business. But it still throws you off, and if you had been there, you would have complained about the design or recommended a more discreet one.

Luz: Ooh, key phrases, you sound sinister, like something they teach at the CIA.

It's much less interesting than it sounds. You recount the scene with the two boys and the desk, your best work, although it was obvious they were tired of you.

Luz: They're missing out.

She moves closer to place her legs next to yours.

Luz: I'm glad we didn't study together, Marie...

...!

Luz: I wouldn't have been able to concentrate in class with such a beautiful mediator. Every day, a fight over a new desk.

With one hand she reaches for yours and with the other she brings a fist to her lips to clear her throat and adopt a very serious tone.

Luz: Mediator, ahem, I will accept the peace proposal... In exchange for a kiss from you.

Having said that, she smiles, and breaks the distance between you. Her lips mold to yours and her hand goes up your arm to your neck, holding you there for a couple of seconds. As she pulls away, her gaze burns for you. You hesitated whether to tell her the truth, not knowing if it was right to keep to yourself what you saw beyond the door... Lunita didn't know what to answer.

Lunita: "And what if... What if it doesn't become real? The future is like water, it never stays completely still, it changes."
It's a possibility you surely considered, but one you'd dismissed as the hours passed. The future didn't matter, because in the present, it was just the two of you under the warm colors of twilight.

Luz took your wrists, guiding your hands up the slope of her ribs. Naked and straddling you, she looked like a goddess, perfect. Her gaze and touch made your mouth water. You couldn't resist; you kissed, licked, and tasted her sweat from her abdomen to her thighs, a sweet and salty musk filling your mouth.

Luz: Even if it doesn't seem like it, I'm not made of candy.

She says, her face flushed and a strangely pleased smile on her lips.

It was your turn to part her petals. Her movements were slow, almost ritualistic. Now in your underwear, you sank into the hammock, and insecurity made you cover yourself with your arms. She didn't answer your question, at least not with words. She leaned against you and began to nibble your left earlobe. One of her hands slid under your arms until it entered your bra and massaged your breast, the other dipped between your already wet panties, and a sharp moan escaped your mouth as two of her fingers entered you, masturbating you with a slowness that gave way to a growing intensity, making your pussy produce obscene sounds until you tensed with climax.

Limp and vulnerable from your necessary recovery, Luz finished undressing you. A kiss, followed by the sway of your tongues, was the signal to resume. You stopped thinking, lost yourselves in each other, and at some indeterminate moment, your glasses slid off and splashed into the puddle below. It didn't matter; your vision was blurry, and the rest of your senses were dulled by pleasure. You wanted to say your partner's name, but the words melted on your tongue.

You made love until your bodies couldn't take any more.

1/3

>it burns me that Marie was the only one who didn't find her
Do you want spoilers for the mask or do you prefer to leave it a mystery?
Rolero Native Gold-ce66ea No.5880 es
9f797994469ef3b688630ba9845b973a5180cd3dadc725b128bb4e2ee25e8606.jpg
266 KB 977×609
99facaaad73abaceaecc3cc0ba3eb93195b80b143e2ffd38ce49b088648096f8.webp
12 KB 321×500
>>5879
<Marie Griffin (Day 53, Hour 13)
HP: 105/110
Energy: 63/70
Hunger: 14/21 - Thirst 14/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 17 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 2/4
Super-Cell (Off. Charge 10/16)
Joseph's Charger
-Pink Backpack 6/10
Pencil
Notebook
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White cat headband
Twinkies (Cream. 4/4. 4/4)

Level 20
Such dreams were the stigma of an evil wanting to take shape, you are sure, deep in your soul you carry a dark burden whose only cure is...

Video games!

The Colombian woman smiles as your face lights up with fury. That flickering scenario evaporates the nightmares from your mind. Infinite screens, infinite encapsulated promises.

Luz: And which question didn't you want to answer?

You take a moment to come to and grasp what she's referring to.

Luz: "I'm not answering that, demon," is what you said in your dreams. And since I was nearby, I heard you grumbling.

She wasn't surprised by what happened with the water, knowing what level you came from. Luz simply advised you to be more attentive to what you carry in your backpack; the sermon was short, she didn't want to spoil your enjoyment of the new level. You run and press your face against the glass of the Undertale plushie machine. Luz catches up to you walking and recognizes Frisk.

Luz: I know it's the doll from the game you like, but for me, Momo is the original. Hey, look!

She points with her finger at the moving claw.

Luz: The clawaaaa. Like in Toy Story. I love that movie.

She leads you to the token machine. With fun tokens now bulging in your pockets, you just have to choose where you'll play. You dismiss the Polybius because it's a product of MK-Ultra and only has one button. You go for your first objective, inserting the token into the plushie machine's slot.

Bent over, with your tongue sticking out in a look of concentration, you manipulate the claw with the joystick and only press the big red button when you're sure you're over Frisk. The claw lowers, grabs the head with hateful lack of firmness, and as it rises, it seems the plushie's weight will overcome it, but the claw manages to hold the prize between its tips and drop it into the delivery tray.

You pick it up.

-Plushie of ¿Frisk?
Function: Arcade Prize.
Description: A plushie of dubious quality shaped like a peanut. It bears a resemblance to a character from Undertale.
Light: She still has a bit of Momo in her. It's the eyes. All she's missing is a knife.

With The Simpsons, it's Light's turn to show off her skills. She chooses Marge, looks at the screen, looks at the joystick, wiggles it, and nods when she sees the little character following her movements. You watch as she tries to go left with little success, and you have to protect her from the enemies that appear.

Light: Okay, I think I get it.

She tries to stick close to you.

In the end, somehow, you manage to beat the first level. But you realize that Light still hasn't quite clicked with the pixels, so you take her to the skeeball. The objective is simple: aim, throw, and hit.

You throw!

The ball hits the circular edge of the 20-point target and bounces back, hitting you in the forehead (-5 hp). You fall on your butt.

Light: Marie!

She throws the ball and runs to check if you're hurt. Kneeling beside you, she raises an eyebrow when she hears squeals and buzzes coming from the machine. The skeeball, howling with lights, vomits out a row of tickets as the number 50 glows and blinks.

Light: Oh.

She must have put the ball in without looking.

Since you don't want to look like a fool in front of your girl, you get to your feet, grab the ball, and advance, determined to break the rules. Light's eyes widen as you start climbing the arcade machine. You give her a mischievous smile. The Colombian girl looks around, obviously nervous.

Light: I-I don't know... Wouldn't that be... illegal? I-I bet the cyber police wouldn't like that.

As she hesitates, heavy footsteps approach, making the carpet and machines tremble. A tall, silver-haired silhouette rises from behind the skeeball.

???: What are you doing?!

The robotic roar almost makes you fall from where you're perched. Seeing who it is, and after the initial shock, you recognize her, and her eyes twinkle as she recognizes you too. It's the robot wolf-animatronic.

???: It's you! You're not following me, are you? Seriously, get down from there, if any of my colleagues see you like this, they'll rip your guts out.

You carefully climb down. Light grabs your waist to help you, though it wasn't necessary. You take a small detour before resuming your plan.

2/3

>because the 'sleep shifts' always felt like such a drag to me
What a polite way of saying: "Screw sleep shifts, OP, I don't want them anymore! REEE!"

>How many experience points do I have?
To be honest, I don't remember either.
Rolero Native Gold-ce66ea No.5881 es
73d86a9e1571c1291badf2e933922639af9e9fec3453a8131f5b830ee4397ade.webp
175 KB 1200×675
c200e2f5878b7bbcaf1954c164b8277492640a95eb588407a6f17bb15741be51.jpg
123 KB 749×1062
366f16b003a693f4e758ebf41bd397478395e46ed7c44e7833f873a476acee7e.webp
83 KB 800×537
8ff9bdccbaf572ba923c5c6f465325addf25e64900e073ad8e210e1bd314d1df.jpg
174 KB 1030×687
3cb60d8682476b3f56eaaedf7d49da0bbd75f9911a05ad137d08d4f03a8a7ec7.jpg
38 KB 851×500
>>5880
>>5873
<Marie Griffin (Day 53, 13:00)
HP: 105/110
Energy: 58/70
Hunger: 21/21 - Thirst: 21/21
-Strength: 15 + 25 Moon Sword
-Agility: 10
-Endurance: 17 + 28 Bulletproof Vest (÷ 2 damage taken)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 2/4
Super-Cellular (Off. Charge 9/16)
Joseph's Charger
-Pink Backpack 7/10
Pencil
Notebook
Smiled fluid
Toothbrush
White cat headband
Twinkies (Cream. 4/4. 4/4)
Plushie of "Frisk?"

Level 20
To eat, they ordered the Donkey Kong combo. Roxy brought it on a tray. The arcade restaurant has a space theme, with a giant star in the center of the ceiling, and smaller ones accompanying it along the structure, also framing the advertising posters offering products and attractions. The animatronic takes a seat in one of the available chairs; it creaks under the weight of the metal.

Roxy: After escaping, I wandered through some very weird places until I stumbled upon this place by chance. Now it's my home, for me and others like me. It's a pretty relaxing spot.

Perhaps the constant tinkling of the machines could drive you mad in the long run, but for Roxy it must be like the lullaby of nature. Luz takes a sip of banana juice and then glances at her encyclopedia.

Luz: It says here there's a settlement of the Pipsqueaks nearby.

Roxy: That must be Bernard's house. I'd take you, but that guy acts super-weird with me. He's always asking me to step on him. Do humans enjoy being crushed?

Luz: N-Not exactly. And don't worry, we don't need any guide, I have everything under control.

Roxy: Whatever you say. Just try not to cheat... Or get into other people's bodies. That's terrible manners.

Luz blushes in embarrassment and quickly looks away; it's an uncomfortable topic for everyone present. Roxy leaves. You finish eating. Luz apologizes for a moment while clutching her stomach; she has to go to the restroom. You might need it too, but if not, you'd wait alone at the table for about 10 minutes.

Your predisposition leads you to glance at the cellular, expecting to find the usual daily content plus your new photos and such, until...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6v2cFujfVD8
A string of messages begins, one after another, with words growing increasingly desperate. They ask where you are, if you're okay, beg you to come home...

They are messages from your parents. If you want to specify what they say, you can do so

The last message added is more impersonal, and although it comes from the same number, it's evident it was written by a different person trying to mediate. The date marked is one day after arriving in the backrooms.

Mom (Message): To the kidnapper, we are willing to cooperate. Urgently we need proof of life for Marie Griffin.

Perhaps an impulse leads you to reply, but all their messages would be blocked with the same warning: Message not sent. Connection error.
Luz would reappear, lighter, but her smile fades as she glimpses your expression.

...

Luz tried to cheer you up. She competed with twice the excitement in air hockey, bouncing every time she scored a puck in your goal.

Luz: Whoa, you almost had it! Nice one!

She also let herself get beaten in Laser Tag. She threw her hands up when you hit her in the chest as she rolled out from a corner.

Luz: Wow, Marie! You're not going easy on me at all!

You carry the bundle of rolled-up tickets to the prize shop. You place the tickets on the counter, causing the robot on the other side to react.

R.O.B.: "Welcome. Carbon-Based. Lifeforms. My. Name. Is. ROB."

Luz: We want to exchange these tickets for prizes.

R.O.B.: "Understood. Available. Prizes. Aaaaaaaaaare..."

As it turns towards the items with annoying slowness, a warm hand grabs yours. Looking up, Luz meets your gaze with a smile that seeks to comfort you.

Luz: I, when I'm alone, pray that we can go home.

She squeezes your hand tighter.

Luz: I have faith that you'll see your parents again, Marie. You'll grow up, study, and have the future you deserve. It's a hunch... Like the one I had the day I saw you, I knew right away you'd be special to me.

>Total tickets obtained: 118x2 (236)

Prize Shop
-Trick Die
Function: From 1 to 50, choose the number of the die you will roll. In battle, it's used to choose both rolls. Disappears after use.
Description: Not available.
Price: 40 Tickets.

-Clue
Function: You will learn something you shouldn't know.
Description: Not available.
Price: 40 Tickets.

-Extra Life Coin
Function: Gives you a second chance when all seems lost.
Description: A copper coin with the words Extra Life on both sides.
Price: 150 Tickets.

-Needle Gun (Acc. 10/10 - Tox. Acc. 10/10 – Par. Acc. 10/10)
Function: Ignores armor and resistances.
Description: Experimental Ministry weapon specialized in piercing. Allows up to three different types of needle cartridges.
Price: 100 Tickets.

-NES Zapper (Charge 10/10)
Function: x2 damage (x3 against dark/cybernetic targets). Can attack up to 3 times per turn.
Description: Tubular light gun made only for the most radical (Charging cable included)
Price: 100 Tickets.

-Pokeball
Function: Throw and catch a living being. If you don't have enough strength, the target may disobey you.
Description: Red and white ball with a button in the center.
Price: 100 Tickets.

-Rare Candy
Function: When ingested, increases all your stats by 1 point.
Description: Not available.
Price: 80 Tickets.

-X-Ray Glasses
Function: X-ray lenses, allows you to see under people's clothes. Ideal for finding weak spots.
Description: Device that attaches to the head, designed for humanoid entities with two eyes. May cause cancer.
Price: 50 Tickets.

3/3
Catherine/Ashley Sodalite-c3ce43 No.5882 es
efd3926b80e37816fb647a8131021737eb10419d3c10021a2142da57ee697635.jpg
35 KB 480×480
a542f0c41286bff2d5919cd04bd8172d2672fa2506eb80d73480b8147fa5eec6.jpg
254 KB 626×979
748ef1eb9411f066015b5306240fbbf1ea4700642462af6d32f18b38992e47a2.jpg
1.66 MB 2466×3580
spoiler
166 KB 1061×1500 spoiler
>>5859
>Peachshley
The winter breeze swayed the fruit, on the apple tree, a pink peach, golden with sunlight. And in the valley, where peaches belong only to goblins, its pit became the greatest temptation for a hand. And despite the fuzz, despite the melody of fright that only the fruit could hear, or any contraindication, teeth seized it, and the peach split open. My Cat is a peach! That doesn't change keksito

>Ashley
"¡!"

And at last her soul returned to her body. And at last with eyes and hands, she nearly leapt to sit up abruptly. But caresses upon her skin silenced the peach's alarms, as it fell into the water once more. Held in place by the only fingers that see beyond the fuzz.

<Je... For a first date, we made it pretty fun.

"Date...?"

She asked into the air, and to no one else. Behind a wall of sleep, her mouth released the sound with the consistency of a faint mist that dissipated the next instant.

<There's something I don't get—what makes today different from what we do every day? Did we eat more? Go farther and to more places?

"..." -Catherine begins to emerge from drowsiness, just enough so her voice isn't that of someone speaking in their sleep- "...I don't know..."

But finding her voice didn't give her the words.

"But..." -and there's always a but- "...I liked it..."

And she could say the same about every day with her. But -...and there's always a but...- today she said it knowing those days might be numbered. And hidden like her within her memories, behind her closed eyelids, tears trembled, unsure whether to fall or not.

But in the end, she didn't cry. Not then. Not there, not even in that earlier embrace. Where, clinging to her world, she'd wanted to know if she'd done wrong.

>Cat (before)
"Eladia...?"

And silence prevailed. And Catherine understood... that even if she held her child tight, she wouldn't get answers... but neither would she stop holding her.

...

>Ashley (now)
Or so she thought beneath the darkness of her eyelids. Until now, in that same darkness and closeness, she found the voice that today was missing.

<All the ugly things I said before... They weren't true, you know that, right?

"¿...?"

She opened her eyes. Trying to connect the dots, to understand, to resume now with the words she didn't have today, the delicate subject.

She can't see her directly. But she can feel her, so close, and tightening the bond even more with every limb. Her warmth. It's the kind only felt in an embrace of love.

<I wanted to bother you, and push you away, and be hateful... But I don't want that anymore. Quite the opposite—having you near makes me happy, like you're a piece I didn't know I was missing.

"..." -and now it's Catherine who stays silent-

The sight in the mirror is something to appreciate. She'd never seen herself like this. Never seen herself being appreciated.

<The fool... was me. You were always the truly cool one, the survivor, the best and most beautiful predator of the infinite infinitesimal.

"...I never thought that..." -¿?- "you're not stupid... To me... you're..." -'Great. Something she likes more than anything else'- "...cool..."

A gentle brush against the evidence of her pleasure dissolves words into a nearly muted moan, almost concealable if the fire weren't igniting her until burning, tensing her body that intuitively welcomes Hilda.

<Ashley...?

"¿A-ah...?"

With blood rushing hot into her cheeks, she answered in a voice between warm sighs from the racing heart Hilda holds in her hand.

You'd have to give me more context about that Cat...
It's just my little headcanon, or interpretation, of how I imagined future Cat shortly before dying. Since that's what you implied happened.
Besides, it fits with the blood on her fingers and in her mouth—given that Cat fights with claws and teeth.

>that would be major spoilers
I wonder why...

>don't know if you'd want that
Nah, you know I don't like spoilers of any kind.

>I think they can end well, we shouldn't lose hope.
W-what-

Huge red flag. Now I'm worried kek
Catherine/Ashley Sodalite-c3ce43 No.5883 es
6d0156370dbdb123fd6ce99a797e672cbaeba9c566ff8b2146ea60ab8cc4d804.jpg
50 KB 272×479
2013c3ee36433682754fd4c61ab20196628c8a3f1def47a3ce4f0c78aa36dcc3.webp
13 KB 320×520
ef6fcb6f5db2e79f0385b7c0703ce47ec72d87f078da4269a12357f34e95f293.jpg
27 KB 234×372
>>5861
She woke. Still pressed against her beloved. There was no sun, or needles to mark the time of day... Only the assumption that time had passed. And Cat's silent relief, which doesn't last long before being replaced by curiosity.

>Ashley (morning)
<Catriño...

"Huh...?" -she turns her little head, facing her companion-

Hilda speaks in her sleep.

<Catesoro...

"..."

But unlike dad, she only says things that make her feel good.

<Cat... Cat... Ash-leey~

"Eladia..."

Her angelic and precise voice met Hilda's like warm breath. Their names embracing with the affection of their owners, who now touch their foreheads. Because Ashley wants more closeness.

>Ashley (present)
"!" -a silent startle, a sharp turn, and in her sight she finds a huge moth-

(...fluffy...)

Very fluffy... But dangerous nonetheless. Although her body doesn't scream danger, knowledge urges caution... And her gut warns of the eye contact that the girl struggles to break away from. She slowly turns her face away, but her eyes remain on the moth until her head can no longer allow it, only then ending on Hilda's smile.

"?"

Catherine stands, expressionless, hands at her sides in a posture so png natural it's almost uncomfortable to watch. This also provides the perfect comparison to the little animal. The vacant stare, the simple pose, the unnatural stillness, and of course, the whiteness that suits them so well.

"What?"

But Catherine doesn't get it. She understood where it was going, but the eyebrow movements escape her mental framework.

"It didn't do anything to me." -she imagines that's perhaps what Hilda wants to know. There was no need to harm that bug. But that wasn't the topic- "Is it a sign?"

Her dad taught her some signs they knew in the platoon to communicate without using their voices. If Hilda wanted, Cat would teach them to her, they were useful, but she didn't recognize this one. And it meant there was a similarity between the moth and her.

"..."

Catherine allows herself a second look. It still surprises her, it's big. She's thought about it, and compared it, and confirms it when she takes a few steps that bring her closer to the window and the danger.

It's big.

(Bigger than the Zenaida Dove, and bigger than the American Crow.)

Bigger...
(And it's bigger than the greylag goose... It shouldn't be this big...)

(It looks like a... greylag goose...)

Such is its size. About 80 centimeters tall, estimated by eye and comparison, by the girl's enormous gaze.

(But it's a moth...)

And that was unnatural. They shared that perhaps, the closeness to the wild, without being something with more qualities. One, tied to the earth, the other, hated for being the ugly cousin...

But perhaps both today accept better, not having wings, or living covered in chitin. Because there are very good things about being who you are, and not someone else. Cat turns to face that something.

"Do I look like a moth?" - she asks, smiling -

...

She asked for comfortable clothes. Not pajamas or a dress, for whatever they were going to do, because the surprise to Hilda made her forget her clothes in the picturesque meadows. She thought a little about going back and getting hers... But she gave up. Her dress, in the middle of hundreds of hectares, would be as hard to find as a needle in a haystack. There was no attachment capable of making her waste the limited time she has on a futile search. At least those clothes served their purpose well.

In more suitable clothes for work, she follows Hilda to the greenhouse. The place seemed very cozy and interesting to her. She couldn't help but look around with her mouth agape, enjoying the variety of well-kept ornamental plants, which enjoyed -imagine- good care under the warmth of these glass panes.

(How nice.)

She likes plants. She doesn't usually think about it too much, but seeing herself surrounded by a place where life proliferates so much, and is well cared for, deserves at least some recognition.

(It's like a small forest... but in a little glass house...)

There were even little animals, Catherine can't help but notice the deathmoths being brushed. The girl stops walking just to watch this, amazed.

(Fluffy...)

She finds them adorable! The girl almost didn't grab Hilda's wrist to ask her to get one... that one by the window was perhaps a good candidate... but she soon gave up.

(No... it's not easy. Nor convenient.)

Suppressing her childish desires, like having pets, is something else Dad has taught her. Although she loves animals, she must do it from afar. Never get attached, never name them. She has disobeyed him. But that doesn't change the fact that those are the rules.
On her walk where she observes everything, she finds those girls from before. The princesses, sitting, holding an umbrella...

(Sunshade... or parasol.)

That's what they're called if they're for the sun.

(For water, umbrella. For sun, parasol.)

(And shade: sunshade.)

She mentally recites her little phrase to tell them apart. But beyond the object, those holding it remain unfriendly. They glare at a curious Cat as if she were disgusting. The Oregonian loses all curiosity and looks blank again toward them, just before they prissily escape her sight.

(...doesn't matter...)

What matters is what Hilda thinks. Though she can't help sniffing her little crotch out of habit from that last gesture, finding its usual complex natural fragrance.

(...I don't smell bad...)

While she's distracted, Hilda glances at her.

<When are you going to get rid of that thing?

"?" -she turns to her- "Huh?"

She doesn't understand at first.

<Now your hair's going to get stained. I'm terrible at giving gifts.

Ah, she means the crown she's wearing. Catherine's huge eyes look upward and converge at the corners beside her nose, giving her the funny look of someone cross-eyed. Naturally, she can't see what's happening on her head with just that, so she turns back to Hilda.

"I like it..." -she says, completely oblivious to the big paint problem-

aren't we mixing things up? the necklace was a pretty little blue gem. Like any necklace. The one who gave a stone to the other is Cat, the one Hilda nicknamed Rocky

And then, it's as if a bolt of knowledge strikes Hilda.

<But you won't be able to criticize me for that anymore, because today I'm not your girlfriend...

"My what?"

She asks with one eyebrow raised. Until now, that word had eluded them as if they didn't know it, because maybe they didn't. What they had didn't have a name, only a mistaken assumption of best friends, but Hilda seemed to have figured it out out of nowhere, leaving Catherine completely offside. Surprising for the girl who couldn't say or hear 'date' without choking on blush-blood until yesterday. I guess it has to do with the flashback that wasn't shown from the morning, but well it wasn't shown so I don't know, and this happening with no development at all is kinda funny kek And yet no, I'm nitpicky about details! REEEEE Sorry for my autism.
<I'm your instructor!

"???"

She keeps her eyebrow raised, would they let that slide?! Well, anyway, Hilda goes shopping at a bush and returns ready for war. The albino looks surprised.

(She looks like a soldier...)

She doesn't know how to take that.

"You have a weapon."

Specifically, a shotgun.

<The backrooms have a second name! D-A-N-G-E-R! Danger!

"You missed the 'i'..."

Yes, maybe correcting her while she's so excited isn't the kindest thing, but asking Catherine to read the room, and not correct, especially grammatical matters, is asking the impossible.

"D - A - N - G - E - R." -she spells out now, with her usual lack of expression, and moving her finger like a baton to the rhythm of the letters- "Danger."

<We have to speak her language, we have to be dangerous. Sometimes it's not enough to just escape.

"Hm." -it's true, she's experienced it firsthand from minute one. Trying to flee the skin stealer was a failure that led her to a wall and, with no other options, to bare her teeth-

Hilda spins the shotgun like a baton, and finishes the act by pointing to the side.

<Since I didn't want it to be too easy for me, I brought this instead of my sword.

"But it's a shotgun." -Isn't a shotgun easy to use...?-

She follows the target of the sight with her eyes, finding beyond the barrel two of the three frightened princesses. One of them looks quite good. But it doesn't last. Maybe she was trying to look confident, or the shock was too great for a reaction, but soon, she falters and faints. She ends up underwater, with her companions only screaming uselessly, and Hilda looking surprised.

"...she's going to drown..."

She explains to the blue one, and then approaches the group of princesses. She gives the two still on land her expressionless gaze, and passes them by to, depending on how deep the other one is, crouch down and drag her from the bank or get into the water herself to grab her and bring her back to land with the other girls. Without looking at them at all... Until before leaving, when she would only look at them. Again, without any particular expression.

(...)

She turns her back on them, and returns to Hilda. They might be mean to Catherine, but Catherine has no reason to be mean to them.

2/3
Catherine/Ashley Sodalite-c3ce43 No.5884 es
7587293486f82f6d4c331141d82171bee97585125edc4257f4993c70851f5765.gif
496 KB 500×282
d267ac7dbf03b793451c9604ba1285ccb27d0f5a90a747bc95d83d1ead6a6acd.jpg
100 KB 694×681
>>5863
>Ashley
Hilda leads the way with a weapon and a staff. But the staff is a broom. They were going to the deepest part of the greenhouse to do some cleaning, Cat didn't have a problem with it. Sometimes she felt bad for pulling up weeds, because maybe those plants deserved to live too, but it was necessary. Although sometimes she took the trouble to replant them in deeper parts of the forest, where they wouldn't bother anyone.

Now maybe she wouldn't have the chance to replant them. But she doesn't dwell on it, because she's more interested in everything around her. The yellowish crystals amaze her despite their ugliness, she had never been surrounded by so much crystal, and she finds it beautiful. Like the trill of that melodious nightingale, or that noble thrush and the classic sparrow. Unmistakable even when muffled by meters and crystals.

The crickets joined the avian orchestra with their lulling rasp of wings, an instrument that reminds her of home, of the night, and relaxes her, with the running water being little more than the cherry on top.

"Ahh..." - she exhales in impression, looking at the ceiling -

And Hilda would see this once more when she turned around. A girl looking up, as if seeing the pyramids for the first time.

"I like this place..." - she states and falls silent, letting herself be carried away by the murmur of nature, closing her eyes, and breathing deeply, enjoying the closeness to greenery, to life - "..." - she let out a sigh -

When she opened her eyes, she looked at Hilda again. Ready to continue.

On the walk, she can see her counting her steps. She had noticed it before, but now she confirms it.

(I usually count in my mind.)

It's quieter. She wouldn't say it either, she doesn't want to distract her. Besides, she understands. Catherine counts her steps too. On the farm, she knows how many steps there are from the bed to the door, and from the door to the dining room. How many steps, and how many she has to take to the wheat field. She knows it well, so much so that if she were blind, she could walk from the bed to the dining room, or to the bathroom, and specifically to the shower, from memory. It's a habit she brought from home. Because she had to know how many steps until it was safe to use a bathing place, where the silver bags for bathing were, or where her little refuge was, where she hid by herself from time to time.

The walk culminates in a door. The bars are thick, so much so that she feels that those 'chainsaws' she has seen in the men's camp, made for cutting trees, would never win this battle of iron against iron.

As if that weren't enough, the sign, large, red and white to stand out from meters away, with raised dots even for the blind to understand, shouts a warning at them with a megaphone.

"Hm... It seems the other side is dangerous."

Hilda hands her the key. She takes it without a problem. Hilda asks her to stop. Catherine hadn't made any moves, so she stays in place with her blank expression while the other girl takes care of putting away the broom brush.

<it could be useful.

"Yes. For cleaning." - it's not a joke, that's its function -

Hilda fashions a spear with nothing more than a broomstick, some rope, and a knife. Extra points for improvisation, but once Catherine has it in her hand, she can't help but look at it closely.

(...)

She doesn't quite know what to think. She trusts Hilda's knot-tying skills, but this, in any case, didn't seem like a very good idea. Although, something unconsciously tells her it might work.
Her eyes return forward, seeing Hilda smile. Catherine smiles too... she doesn't know why. That's new. Hilda opens the door. Cat blinks a couple of times, looks at the key, so what was it for? She keeps it anyway. It would surely help them later.

Ladies first. Cat crosses the threshold, and wastes no time, turning to look at Hilda again, who puts down the brush to stop the door. Her eyebrows go up and down insistently, and Catherine for a moment thinks she's now saying she looks like a broom brush. But as if she could understand her in a unique way, that needs no words... her voice almost reached her mind.

<Am I not a clever girl?

"..." -and she smiled again, mentally returning a yes... and then coming closer, dropping the spear and grabbing her by the cheeks- "kissie." -she made duck lips, she suddenly really wanted to kiss her... but she was supposed to be her instructor now- "kissie..." -she asks again, she doesn't care about etiquette, she wants a kissie-

...

After that, they resume their walk. Cat holds the spear with both hands, and looks at the place. She can't say it's like the forest this time. The plants grow much more disorderly and that's coming from American forests and the undergrowth proliferates in a strange way. It's as if nature had reclaimed its place with violence, and now everything is its own. And like humans, more of one than the other, because the grass they walk on is dead.

Hilda peeks around a corner, Cat, who is a little taller, does the same, her head sticking out a bit above the other girl. Making them an adorable spy totem. Which is also a bacon dispenser, because Hilda throws a bit of bacon out there.

(Bait.)

Hilda counts, and nothing and no one bites. The girl comes out, and the albino accompanies her.

<Only step where I step.

She nods. She's heard that many times, and never had trouble obeying. She follows Hilda's movements like a mirror, being her white shadow until they manage to enter this area completely.

If the previous corner was where nature won by force, here it's where they changed an average role in the war for a leader role in the cage. Above them the plants curve like arches of the triumphal arch, becoming natural ceilings and corridors in the most unnatural way possible. Catherine feels in the middle of something majestic, it impresses her, and she sees it as the eighth wonder of the world. Or as the first of this alternate world. Everything in this greenhouse is worth seeing with your mouth open, and keeping in your memories in detail.

They reach some benches that seem to be made of stone under the thick greenery.

(I wouldn't sit there.)

While Catherine thinks about the essential, Hilda seemed more interested in a striking puddle. She touches it, the albino is cautious.

"Eladia... In nature, bright colors are used to warn about poison." -she explains aposematism in simple words, but Hilda must know more, because she tastes the mixture, causing Cat to break her natural silence with a gasp-

<Moth jelly.

Catherine is relieved in silence. She supposes she already had an idea of what the substance was before even touching it, but next time, she would probably interfere before getting worried. Because she must balance what she trusts and what she wants to protect her... like with nitroglycerin.

<There's a fence.

"..."

3/4 (it got long, sorry kek)
Ashley/AHAB Sodalite-c3ce43 No.5885 es
587c45c09fce4dc50cc4cd3d094c2896173f7c05fb332218279c8d86c61d894c.jpg
854 KB 2135×1220
660992ef559753f52a6ee5db94e6d28a253e98a0486d89e3a88f1f95143439fd.jpg
23 KB 221×179
e87d185bc90cabddfce4bde8c721530ae43ccef65f9c91a8eaf0173fca381adb.jpg
598 KB 640×1358
>>5863
>Ashley
They won't be long finding her. It lands on the wall. And it's enormous, breaking scale.

(More than a common goose... Bigger than a common turkey...)

And it doesn't look friendly at all.

(More than a swan... Bigger than an emu...)

The birds are starting to fall short.

(Bigger... than Dad...)

And Dad is huge. A person who has to duck to get through doorways, and who makes Cat crane her neck to see him. His height was little to envy Joe, though clearly in muscles he lost out, like a nut against a squirrel.

(Giant...)

Maybe with the wings of an albatross, the height of an ostrich, but with the creepy appearance of a nighthawk. Brown, resting on past victims. Its back full of darkness, on which drawings of human horror seem to be traced... making it look like the true origin of the death legends attributed to the black witch. The Ascalapha odorata. (Though Cat doesn't call it that)

"It's dangerous..." -she whispers, she doesn't even need her instincts to know when corpses litter the floor-

<It's quite large...

"With wings like albatrosses. And the size of an ostrich..."

<But it's still an insect, it's fragile. If you try hard, and give it a good surprise blow, you'll kill it.

"...you want me to kill it..." -she says, looking at Hilda, then back forward- "kill... that..." -because just calling it a moth is a stretch-

(I once wondered why moths and butterflies are different.)

(I watched them a lot. I never saw them together... because one comes out during the day and the other at night.)

(But they have more differences... moths have that hair my dad told me is called chitin. And they fly violently, while butterflies seem to float, and look beautiful, soft, and fragile with their fluttering... moths look like birds of prey. Fast, and they can crash.)

(And the most different thing is when they land. Because butterflies are beautiful, and they fold their wings again and again, with smooth movements, like a beautiful book they slowly close and open... they show you their contents, their colors. Beautiful...)

(But moths extend their wings, they never fold them... And they show their nocturnal patterns. For camouflage. And they look big. Or they let their wings hang down, like a cape, which makes them look long. They never fold them.)

(They are similar and different.)

(But I don't hate them.)

(I've never killed a moth.)

She tightens her grip on the broomstick.

(But now I have to.)

Her eyes drop for a second to the makeshift spear.

(With this...)

And they bounce like a basketball to fall once more on the moth.

(It's very big...)

She repeats.

(It's so big...)

(But it's just an insect...)

She repeats what Hilda said.
(But insects are tough...)

And it breaks the spell of love words with reality.

(They aren't animals. Moths don't have hearts or brains...)

Her dad used to advise that if she ever had to kill an animal, she should aim for the head, and if she were ever experienced enough, for the heart, to finish things in one move.

(And its wings are so big, if it flapped them, it could knock me over.)

Birds flap their wings and push air. They blow. When a hummingbird passes by you, its gentle flapping can mess up your hair a little. To scale that up to a moth this size, with the violence it could exert with a swat, is madness.

(And the dust...)

Moths shed dust when they move. When they flap their wings. Even if the wind didn't blow it away, one this big might blow up a dust devil that would make her cough and blind her completely.

(...)

She simply analyzed the possibilities and reached the same conclusion as Hilda and her dad.

(I have to kill it in one blow...)

Like squashing a fly on the wall. You do it all at once, with surprise and decisiveness, or you fail and it escapes. But the difference is that this one wouldn't become a nuisance, but her executioner, if she failed.

(I have to kill it in one blow...)

(I have to kill it in one blow...)

It repeats.

(But this stick...)

It's short. And she doesn't know how sturdy it is.

(I wish I had a real spear... two meters long. Or a whale harpoon... and be like Ahab...)

(Because I have to kill it in one blow...)

(But I'm not Ahab...)

(But I have to try... I have to kill it in one blow...)

She grips her spear tightly. Strangling fear and doubt.

(I'm going to help Eladia...)

This is what she asked for. This is the training. There's no room for doubt anymore if she wants to be his bitch. She's already thought through the possibilities, she knows what she has to do. She doesn't want to think anymore.

(I... am Ahab...)

https://youtu.be/Qtk1O7Fwtg8?si=T3Uyg9AqtrMOdW3M
Catherine runs with one hand gripping her weapon tightly and the other open near her hip for balance. Focused on the back of her white whale, her eyes like a green laser sight. She stops within a stone's throw.

(I have to kill it in one blow.)

She repeats, in half a second, as she almost breaks her back leaning backward to gain momentum, sending her whole body forward, to release the spear right where she was aiming directly. That spot between the wings and under the head, in order to pierce it.

(I AM AHAB!)

She strains with all her might, as Hilda suggested. (30 energy invested in strength!) and she takes her dad's word for it, that humans' greatest advantage over animals is the ability to throw things.

Strength: 1d50 = 49
Agility: 1d50 = 26
Rolero Sodalite-2f6464 No.5886 es
0b9fb9e66dbdaa10d317a4e4eecbd12aabd4ae2d88f9fafc839f6ffca25d7961.jpg
45 KB 600×600
>>5875
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 68, Hour 1)
HP: 170/170
Energy: 72/80
Hunger: 38/40 - Thirst: 38/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 11
-Stamina: 12
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 2/4
Towel (Bloody)
Almond water bottle with salt (13/15)
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Supreme secret of the body judging itself (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it is used).

Level 10
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bepGYHbvIKIThe windows remain closed to prevent the breeze from entering. The interior lights of the bus separate them from the darkness of the night. You close your eyes and concentrate, very sure that the real killer is nearby. You remember when you tried to dodge The Smiler blindfolded... Would it be just as difficult to find Leon's attacker? 20d50 = 526

The argument makes you open your eyes. On the bus, tempers are running high, no one seems happy, and no one noticed if someone was missing during the shootings. You didn't notice either; you ran as soon as you heard the shots. Otherwise, you would have already solved the mystery.

Eleanor: It was an ice zombie, I have nothing more to add.

She says without looking away from the window.

You dismiss the young ladies and ask Hether if she saw anything. She places her baby on the seats before standing up and communicating with her hands.

Francine: She says she didn't see anything strange, she was asleep the whole time.

She translates the signs.

A wild idea occurs to you. With the Eye of Argos in hand, you shake it and ask to see the killer. Everyone present has their eyes fixed on the sphere, including Hank, who was skeptical. The darkness inside the glass stirs before revealing the interior of the bus, zooming in on Hether's figure, hugging herself and pulling up her coat collar. The bus fills with a communal gasp.

Francine: Hether... How could you?

She asks, covering her mouth with her fingers, her voice very high-pitched, as if her throat hurt to make the accusation. Hether, instead of being repentant, seems annoyed. She takes a moment to adjust her hat before gesturing wildly with her hands.
Francine: I'm not translating that.

Eleanor sighs, gets on her knees on the seat, and crosses her arms over the back of the chair. Looking at Hether, she takes it upon herself to communicate the words.

Hether (Eleanor): Leon deserved it, because of him Marco was left behind to die. I took Irene's gun while she was asleep and left. I shot him in the back, but I'm sure he saw me. I hid in the wheat field until everyone showed up because of the noise, then I joined the crowd and only when I felt safe did I return to the bus to put the gun back in its place.

The teenager's monotonous voice is the only sound on the bus until Hether concludes her confession.

Hether (Eleanor): I don't regret what I did... Eleanor saw me do it, but she didn't care, she even offered to lie for me.

Hank: Eleanor!

He exclaims at his daughter's indifferent attitude, though Eleanor doesn't flinch at her father's alarm. A layer of discomfort settles over everyone, and the nomads proceed to discuss what they will do with Hether now that she has revealed herself as the killer.

Hank: Fuck it! Let's leave her on the side of the road and keep going. Let the snow solve the problem.

Francine: She has the baby with her, we can't leave her!

Hank: Obviously we'll keep the baby, we're not monsters. In the first place, it's not even hers, right? She just got it from somewhere. Maybe she's unhinged and we don't know it.

As the debate heats up, Hether stands with her arms crossed. The baby tries to crawl out of the seat, but Sue picks him up and hugs him to her chest. As Francine and Hank don't seem to reach a resolution, Nadjela looks at you.

Nadjela: You used your Italian mumbo jumbo to find the killer. That was a bit like... cheating. Anyway, you should decide what happens to her.

She says and takes a drag from her Mary Jane joint, her eyes are red, the sharingan of Jamaica.

Nadjela: Even if it doesn't seem like it, she's dangerous. But that's obvious by now.

Your pseudo younger brother whispers in your ear.

Claus (Eleanor): The settlement we're going to must have inspectors... Or guards... Maybe they should handle it, not us.
Otaku con ensoñacion Hauyne-a901a0 No.5887 es
4f1b66840b51e5f67dd32b258ae9358c53bc25c2a01f8a66e3a3bf147e047515.webp
21 KB 300×413
>>5886another 60%, not bad
>Irene

Questions lead nowhere, so it was better to skip the minigame and go straight to the answers using the Eye of Argos cheat.

The artifact reveals that, indeed, Heater had seen something, and that something was Leon because she killed him! And according to Francine's translations, it was revenge for leaving Marco behind, the argument gets heated.

>That was a bit like... Cheating

Irene puts her hands on her hips, "Is using a calculator to solve a math problem cheating?" Don't ask Irene about linear functions or me Heater was dangerous "Don't tell me, we can deal with that, it shouldn't---Wait!, why do I have to decide?, wasn't this a democracy?" Was it ever?, well, aside from Hank having a gun, and Slime, Irene seemed to be the strongest so it could well be a meritocracy, especially when you can get powers in the storage room.

"Ok, people calm down!, Hank, we're not going to leave anyone on the side of the road to die, much less take away a baby's closest thing to a mother, what example do you want to set for the children?"

Woman assumes a position of power, deviates to 'Does anyone want to think of the children?'.

"Besides, we can't just throw any problem out the window. We're going to a settlement, right? If they're even minimally organized, they should have some system of justice as Claus suggests. They'll take care of it."

"I can't pretend to be ignorant, I admit, Leon probably deserved it, for things he did inside and outside the storage room, I can't blame you for having that to motivate you, Heather," she says, looking at the girl. "So, what I am going to judge you for is killing a group member in cold blood, who, like the others, collaborated to keep you alive, and using MY weapon. Now there's one less person to stand guard, one less person to go get supplies, and one less person to defend the rest if we encounter danger. Tell me, are you happy with what you did?"

Regardless of whether they answer with signs or translation, "Sit in the back. Let the others keep two seats between them." She leans in to whisper to Claus, "Tell Slime to keep an eye on her."

With that out of the way,

"Now I think... we should finish burying Leon and... keep driving, does anyone have any objections?"

...

to get a little ahead, and because I don't want to leave the turn so simplistic, ignore this if you want

A little while later, at another stop on the side of the road next to the huge wheat fields, Irene wanted to take advantage of the break and had asked Claus to help her train, but it wasn't asking Slime to help with her reflexes, once they are facing each other, she gives Claus Leon's knife implying

"Now it's your turn to train. I don't know how long it will take us to reach the settlement, but still, you must know how to defend yourself better, both for yourself and for others." She waits for Claus to take the knife. "We'll go slowly, then we can practice with Slime, you look like an agile fighter after all."

She draws her machete, "Show me what you've got, then we can see where to guide you, attack me without fear." She spoke very wisely, but she also had no idea how to teach fighting that wasn't pure instinct, Irene wasn't cut out to be a teacher. The machete was more for show than anything, she was mostly going to try to dodge Claus and kick him a bit to see how he fights.

Strength: 11 + 15 Machete + 1d50 = 11
-Agility: 11 + 1d50 = 37
Rolero Sodalite-2f6464 No.5888 es
Sorry for the delay. Especially to you, anon >>5874 I was spaced out and didn't notice your turn was after the one before Irene. My apologies.
Rolero Sodalite-2f6464 No.5889 es
0ddb2ade87050cbe9cde06c5af0b56f38fb2a49c1a81fd3b7ea1ac0649ce8e83.jpg
92 KB 670×495
>>5874
>>130151
>the thread doesn't end so soon due to internet server issues and things like that
Don't worry about that, we'll make another thread and that's it. Although I'd like to finish the ice worm matter in this one, we'll see if it's possible.

About advancing, actually, you're the one I'm most interested in progressing with. Until your matter is resolved, the situation of the town of Malta remains uncertain, kek.

<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, Hour 10)
HP: 28/80
Energy: 17/100
Hunger: 8/20 - Thirst: 9/21
-Strength: 9 + Small bow
-Agility: 12 - 5 Star orange coat
-Stamina: 10 + 5 Star orange coat
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Trinkets
Trinkets
Trinkets
Crowbar
-Small quiver 12/12
x11 Typical arrow
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Go back one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
To Charlie's teary eyes, you're just a weird girl who shot her with an arrow, not her friend from the future. Almost unable to see through the tears of pain that soak her little face, Charlie waves her wand and conjures ice from the air.

Something shakes you as it crashes and crumbles against your back, the remains of the snowball slide to the ground. You don't even turn around, your eyes are fixed on your target, you follow it with your small bow and the tip of the arrow.

Dirty Bill smiles, though a thin line of blood escapes from the left corner of his mouth, this is because a moment ago one of the partygoers grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground. Towards that same entity, he fires.

The cannon rumbles three times. It opens and pulverizes his chest and apron, making confetti and streamers fly from the holes, also a few candies and plastic toys. Near your feet lands a little green soldier, like the ones you played with as a child.

The remaining partygoer catches his brother's body, shakes him, and upon realizing he doesn't react, looks at the sky and lets out a roar filled with sadness and rage. At that precise moment, you release the string from your little hands.

The arrow whistles and lodges itself in Bill's shoulder. The man leans back, his expression contorts, and a muffled growl escapes his tight lips. With wide eyes of surprise and anger, he turns until his gaze locks onto you. At least until a bullet pierces his neck from side to side, and he ends up lying on the ground on his side, with his eyes closed.

Marco Gol remains kneeling on one leg from the rooftop, the barrel of his rifle smokes.

You think it's over, the pool of blood under Bill's body grows and releases smoke upon contact with the snow...

But before you can exhale the tension you've been holding inside, Bill opens his eyes again and plants a hand to start getting up. He waves the unlit whip, it coils around his neck and ignites. Bill's face turns red, smoke erupts, and a faint aroma of bacon spreads. With another flick of his wrist, Bill uncoils the weapon and slams it against the ground in front of his feet. On his neck, what was once an entry and exit hole is now a wrinkled burn scar surrounding his throat and nape, the result of extreme cauterization.
Bill turns green. With the weapons planted against his knee, he bends over to vomit. After expelling all his bile, he wipes the back of his hand across his lips and straightens his back again. You notice him slide his feet and sweep through the snow until he stands in a strange position, as if preparing for something dangerous.

Bill: Ingens...

Meanwhile, in the surroundings, the white horde continues to attack. The protectors keep them at bay with their batons and riot shields.

Brutus: I have a gift for you... DEAAAAATH!

The giant shouts and breaks away from the group (-250 HP) with a hail of bullets ahead, the rotary cannon devours the belts of projectiles, as the man slowly moves towards the horde, not with fear, but brandishing a bestial smile.

-Brutus
HP: 200/200
-Strength: 19 + /roll{1d3000} Sasha the M134 Minigun (3000/6000)
-Agility: 10 - 20 Sasha the M134 Minigun - 10 Auxiliary ammo belt + 1d50 = 39
-Endurance: 19
-Sasha the M134 Minigun
Function: Increases the die roll for each bullet spent. Divides damage among all enemies. If an auxiliary ammo belt is possessed, a total agility roll greater than 0 is needed to reload and continue attacking.
Description: Gatling-style 6-barreled rotary machine gun, famous for its high rate of fire. Ideal for helicopter assaults, or starting a revolution in Kosovo.

Alondra compensates for Brutus's separation by joining the protectors herself (+250 HP). Her legs tremble, but she fights with the strength of desperation, you witness her putting her hands inside Flame's body, almost as if it were a puppet, aiming and pressing or pulling some internal mechanism, and launching a stream of fire against the creatures.

-The Partychef
HP: 71/300
-Strength: 15 + 1d100 = 25
-Agility: 15 + 1d100 = 27
-Endurance: 30
Traits:
-If their HP is less than 50%, their stats are halved, but their dice become 1d100.

--BNTG Protectors (Alondra - Brandon - Zelanda)
HP: 730/750
-Strength: 1d100 = 35
-Endurance: 1d100 = 52
Traits:
-Damage is directed at all characters within range.
-They add resistance to allies
-Every time they lose 250 HP, they add +25 to all rolls, including allies'

---------

-Bill the Dirty
HP: 79/280
-Strength: 30 + 20 Pegasus Lasso + 1d50 = 8 / Magnum Revolver (x3. +2 Priority. 2/6) + 1d50 = 29
-Agility: 28 + 20 Pegasus Lasso + 1d50 = 45
-Endurance: 30
Techniques:
-???

-Charlie
HP: 84/100
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 8
-Endurance: 1
Techniques:
-???
-Ice Virgin Veil (Off)

--White-walker Army
HP: 99338/100000
-Strength: 1d100 = 81
Traits:
-Damage is directed at all characters within range.
-Every time a character is defeated, they recover 100 HP.
Rolero Sodalite-2f6464 No.5890 es
4de2ea62aca1faae271020b0a2cda3b3045f79823b6d950b155a721df8172384.jpg
20 KB 421×275
2fa0016c17704bf425aaf7260b9644f86e4b749d8a6a1a011fb37f70436e3b69.jpg
38 KB 599×449
d9d359edce934f0fddad8760786db325bb0bd1b32f47bbee9c448761a533afb7.jpg
81 KB 900×600
8bc624a58bf29bd45771e11816bbb16e8393086bc9f22fa346c41b699924e51d.jpg
45 KB 564×564
>>5889
>Luck: 0
Fixed.

>>5877
>>5878
<Rando Roadagain (Day 49, Hour 23)
HP: 76/100
Energy: 50/50
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 9 + 15 Machete / 14 Ghasto (+1 extra attack)
-Agility: 8 / 14 Ghasto
-Toughness: 8 + 10 Spiked Armor (10 direct contact damage) + 2 Mask
-Luck: 3
Inventory
-Pockets 0/8
-Trainings
Strength: 9 (5/10) - Agility: 8 (4/10) - Toughness: 8 (5/10)

Level 10
The daytime snowfall continues to dust the landscape through the kitchen window.

Marietta: With love...

She places her hands on top and pushes down.

Marietta: And perseverance.

The plastic grinds and cracks, but millimeter by millimeter the plant is entering the blender's glass. When Marietta turns to get some water to add to the juice, Ghasto and Rando take the opportunity to free the melon-launcher and move it away from the appliance.

Marietta: Cruel...?

She tilts her head.

Marietta: I'm not a cruel girl. Why do they say ugly things about me?

She lifts the jug and takes a sip of cool water. Seconds later, her eyes widen.

Marietta: Oh.

She places the jug on the counter.

Marietta: I have to go to a meeting.

Running with short steps, she hurries to pee in the bathroom.

The plant would remain unnamed by Marietta, and Rando without a sweater because Von Karma wasn't in the mood to let her hair grow too long.

Later, the masked man would learn that Marietta was raised by her stepfather, because in the purple-haired girl's words: "Mom ate Dad and then left." Marietta didn't find it strange; there are species like spiders that practice sexual cannibalism. She even found it romantic, seeing it as a way for the husband to give himself body and soul to his wife.

...

The machete lies at Rando's feet. The masked man picks it up.

Nick: I took a look at what awaits beyond the road. It's not something that can be beaten by one or two people. He prefers to bet on the sure thing, and that option is to eliminate you, my friend. And yes, I could have attacked you from behind, but for me, if there's no challenge, there's no thrill-

The words and the night are cut short by a gunshot. Nick falls chest-first into the snow. A few meters back, Ghasto is seen in humanoid form with his arm extended. Steam rises from the tip of the revolver he wields. Rando doesn't hesitate, rushes towards the fallen man, and kicks the blade away. The machete disappears into the wheat field at the same time Nick rises like a shadow...
The fist collides with Rando's mask, then a knee sinks into his abdomen, and with a kick to the side, the masked man stumbles back a couple of steps. Ghasto throws a second machete at Rando, but Nick stretches out his arm and catches it without looking, almost as if he had eyes in the back of his head. Blood gushes from the large hole in his back, and red trickles run from his lips to his chin.

Nick: You should have emptied the revolver when you had the chance.

As he says this, the tattoo on his shoulder blades begins to flutter. Rando can't see it, but Ghasto, who is behind him, can. The movement of the wings starts slow, jerky, like an animation missing frames, until they gain fluidity and dimension, and from his tanned flesh rises an eagle's cry.

The other lines along Nick's body stir as if coming to life. Multiple pairs of eyes from his hands, shoulders, legs, abdomen, pectorals. It's like looking at a pack of hounds trapped in a human body.

Nick: I'm not the only one with beasts watching my back. But mine weren't gifted to me by providence, I earned them, and they are made with ink from the sea and blood from my opponents.

-Nick of the Polynesian Beasts
HP: 28/190
-Strength: 21 + 15 Machete + 1d50 = 40 / 21 Wolf (Blunt) + 1d50 = 46/ + 21 Snake (Poison) + 1d50 = 2
-Agility: 19 + 1d50 = 3 / 19 Eagle (Dodge) + 1d50 = 49
-Resilience: 22 + 22 Bear (Resilience) 1d50 = 44
Techniques:
Polynesian Beasts (Passive)

Marietta, in her light sleepwear, comes out of the house due to the noise and runs over, her eyes widening as she encounters the fighting scene.

Marietta: Are they...? Are they fighting to the death for my love...? How romantic!

She clasps her hands by her face and wiggles her hips, thrilled by the idea.

...

>Does reloading cost me a turn, is it by dice?
It costs a turn. Some firearms do require dice for a successful reload, the revolver does not.

>Can I do it with Ghasto?
Yes, you can spend Luck to reroll Ghasto.

>Can I roll training dice on all those days we skipped and increase stats?
Training points increase according to the routine and without needing to roll dice.
Marisa Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5891 es
>>5889
Things are going more or less the same as last time, only now Bill has an extra arrow stuck in his body, just one.

"Did I do something wrong? It seemed easier the first time." He unzips his sweater to see if it's really bothering him so much that they're all going to die because of it.

With the zipper open, he feels a chill from the air Charli blows on him and the look the other guy gives him, but looks can't kill and the cold air has already passed, so he doesn't have to worry about that now, but about shooting enough arrows before a hundred thousand dead fall on him or they point a revolver at his face again.

>I have a gift for you... DEAAAAATH!

"Is everything really going to end the same as last time? The point of going back was so fewer people would die."

And he has reason to worry, when what he's doing is changing things so little that they keep happening.

"Sorry about the arrow, I thought it would hurt less than letting them shoot you." He doesn't feel very confident taking his eyes off the guy who can kill him in a blink to see if Charli is listening, but he assumes she won't go far with an arrow in her leg. "And also for not helping you with something again after you got me out of prison, fairy godmother. I'm Marcos, by the way, if you didn't hear the first time." It's kind of a hassle to repeat the same thing again, but whatever. "I don't blame you for wanting another body, I did the same thing." He shrugs, his reason for becoming a girl isn't the same as Charli's, but that doesn't matter. "It's not your fault the white worm forced you to do bad things to grant your wish, I don't think you wanted to hurt these people. And they're good people, if we tell them a stronger bug forced you, you'll be fine, I support you. I don't think they'd execute two girls, especially if we help save the town."

He's talking too much for the time he has, so this time he makes sure he's well prepared and shoots two arrows at the whip guy before things get much worse.

Strength: 1d50 = 47
Agility: 1d50 = 41

Since the thread said Final and you said it would end here, I thought it was going to be the last thread, but ok. Even with the coat zipped up, didn't she have enough agility to shoot two arrows? Bill would have had much less health now and this turn would be easier if so.
Rolero Triphylite-988c3b No.5892 es
efe5baf6815319f709ea0b5ff51193be0f48d08d144d08c55cacf4befd764806.jpg
154 KB 939×1097
>>5891
To make up for my previous lack, I'll advance this little turn. Also, according to the math I did, your waifu wouldn't have had enough agility to shoot two arrows. But I'm a humanities person, there's a chance I got the calculations wrong, but for now I don't see a flaw.

<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 60, Hour 10)
HP: 28/80
Energy: 14/100
Hunger: 8/20 - Thirst: 9/21
-Strength: 9 + Small Bow
-Agility: 12 - 0 Stellar Orange Coat (Open)
-Stamina: 10 + 0 Stellar Orange Coat (Open)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Trinkets
Trinkets
Trinkets
Crowbar
-Small Quiver 9/12
x9 Typical Arrow
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
You zip up your coat, the wool stops clinging and constricting you. You feel colder, but freer.

Charlie: It's an arrow! Ho-how is it not going to hurt?! It's a piece of iron, the body is not a good place to stick a piece of iron!

He shouts with tears and snot on his face, his hands wrapped around his wounded leg. Soon you introduce yourself, state what you are, what you know, and what happened, without giving yourself time to breathe, to the point where your vision blurs. Charlie's face goes from tears and indignation... To tears and surprise.

Charlie: Marco... Is that really you? You're... You're a different color.

He lowers his head at the mention of his service to the white worm.

Charlie: I-I just wanted... I wanted to feel good being myself!

He can't take it anymore, he bursts into tears and buries his face in his hands. The sight makes you want to cry too, but you take a deep breath, prepare several arrows this time, and peek out of the alley.

The drum of Brutus's minigun rumbles and deafens, sounding like tearing fabric. Fragments of ice fall from the sky, sink into the snow, and bounce off building roofs: a fraction of an arm, or pieces of a frozen torso, also ears. The sound stops and you see the big guy, with shell casings and pieces of white-walker at his feet, taking a moment to insert the next line of ammunition into his cumbersome weapon. He's managing even though his fingers are sweating.

Your gaze shifts from Brutus to Bill, who is obviously preparing to do something bad. The damage caused by television is palpable in you when the only thing you can think of is a Simpsons gag: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AABfcmpATtk
You pay dearly for the distraction, you won't have time to shoot! And in your haste, you drop the arrows you were holding. The curse of small, chubby fingers.

The handle of Bill's whip creaks under the pressure of his fingers.

Bill: Tornad-

???: STOP!

A woman's voice cuts through the storm. All eyes turn to the small figure located 20 paces from Bill. Bandages keep the nail immobilized in the eye of the BNTG mayor, and although a sheen of cold sweat covers her body, her expression remains surprisingly serene.

Anastasia: Bill, don't you see how absurd all this is?

She spreads her arms to gesture at everything. Bill frowns, straightens his back, and lets the whip rest extended.

Bill: It's no more absurd than anything else.

Anastasia: You're leading a horde of ice zombies while repeating fantasy fight moves that Harry and you invented when you were kids. Almost like it's some damn summer game.

The mayor retracts her arms and hugs herself.

Anastasia: Let's be honest, what will you gain by killing us all?

Bill: A ticket out of this place. The white worm is a benevolent god.

Anastasia: Entities lie.
Bill: They can't be any dirtier and more treacherous than humanity. Humanity gives you hope, and then destroys it, you know that well enough.

The mayor grunts and presses the bridge of her nose with one hand.

Anastasia: For the last time, Bill... I'm a lesbian!

Bill points an accusatory finger at her.

Bill: You only say that because you've never felt a penis inside you.

He spits on the ground and cracks his whip against the snow.

Bill: I'm sorry, public middle school mediator. You won't get out of this with your ridiculous new age hippie diplomacy.

The woman removes her hand from her face and nods.

Anastasia: I know, I was just distracting you.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6tuD532Bkc
The partygoer rises behind Bill and traps him in his arms. Bill's face contorts in fury and he lets out a curse that is cut short as the chef's arms squeeze him, cracking all his bones.

Zelanda raises her cannon, which resembles a sports motorcycle, only dirty with blood, snow, and ash. The weapon lights up, snow particles swirl and evaporate, the woman aims and, upon activating the device, fires a line of energy that sounds like a sharp whistle. The energy strikes Bill and leaves his coat open and scorched.

You nock the arrows and shoot, then nock another and shoot immediately, almost without looking. The arrows whistle, and bury themselves in the flesh, biting deep.

The first in the stomach, dark blood spurts out like a jet.

Bill: Motherfuckers! The worm will kill you all-!

The second in the forehead.

Silence.

The partygoer releases his arms, Bill's corpse sinks into the snow.

The security ring formed by the BNTG sentinels' shields and batons holds firm. They watch in surprise as the white walkers begin to walk backward and disperse, their gazes always fixed on the humans, until their glowing eyes are barely a fleeting light lost in the darkness of the night.

12 experience points received!

-Bill the Dirty
HP: 0/280
-Strength: 30 + 20 Pegasus Bond / Magnum Revolver (x3. +2 Priority. 2/6)
-Agility: 28 + 20 Pegasus Bond
-Stamina: 30
Techniques:
-???

--White-walker Army
HP: 96362/100000
-Strength: 1d100 = 100
Traits:
-Damage is directed at all characters within range.
-Every time a character is defeated, they recover 100 HP.

Anastasia walks up to Bill's corpse, nudges it with the tip of her foot, and finally kicks it to turn it over, contemplating Bill's increasingly grayish face, the arrow protruding between his eyebrows. After confirming death, the mayor takes a pack of Lucky Star cigarettes from her pocket and starts smoking. Malta approaches her and places a hand on her shoulder.

Malta: You need urgent medical attention.

Anastasia: First, let's burn our dead.

The partygoer goes to where Tom's body lies and carries it carefully so as not to separate the halves. He does the same with the remains of his brother. The amorphous mass, like the white walkers, retreats silently until it disappears into the darkness.

Alondra: Marisa!

The mechanic, with the robot-child under her arm, shouts, approaches, and kneels to get to your level while feeling your small body with one hand.

Alondra: Are you hurt? W-Where did they touch you?

Her eyes move up and down your body repeatedly.

Alondra: I saw what you did, you killed that man! You can cry... You should cry.

Her trembling gaze goes to Charlie and she notices the arrow lodged in her.

Alondra: Medic!

The nightmare was over. Strength leaves your body. You fall to your knees.

But isn't someone missing?
Rolero Andalusite-05a37e No.5893 es
2038cf1de18238c027cfb8706743b955a9e9b1ea344d4605758193799412321f.webp
171 KB 769×1113
>>5882
>>5883
>>5884
>>5885
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 23. Hour 8)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 69/70
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 19/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar + Wilting Flower Crown
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of Salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 5
You grab the cover extended by the furry hand. It contains a VHS. You check the front and back.

Jason and the Argonauts (1963) is a classic adventure film based on Greek mythology, where the hero Jason embarks on a perilous journey to retrieve the mythical Golden Fleece and reclaim the throne of Thessaly. Alongside a crew of heroes, he faces iconic monsters, including reanimated skeletons and the bronze giant Talos.

It's an adventure. An ideal genre for Hilda. You thank the monkey for the delivery and close the door. Time to get some sleep.

At some point before leaving for home, you would use the giant television to watch the movie, and Hilda would seriously ask you if you would like to go hunt living skeletons and cyclops with her. Not soon, nor in the following days, but later. For Hilda there was no rush, she believed you both had all the time in the world, while you secretly counted down each day.

...

The moth remains stuck to the other side of the windowpane, fluttering to reposition itself each time its fluffy body is lowered by gravity. Hilda takes your shoulders from behind, and with one hand begins to comb your hair just as guests do with their deathmoth pets.

Hilda: White and pretty, very white, very pretty, very mine.

She tells you, and you ask her about the resemblance she already identified.

Hilda: Yes, and you fly too.

Before you can ask what she means, she takes you by the waist and lifts you with a comical ease since you are a bigger child. With you positioned on her bony shoulders, Hilda trots around the greenhouse so the breeze can ruffle your hair. The guests grumble or adjust their monocles with a look of disdain, such a shameless display of childish freedom sours their stroll.
...

As you walk through the greenhouse, you leave behind a trail of colored droplets: yellows, purples, vermillions, etc. It's paint from your flower crown. Hilda notices and that fills her with insecurity about the gifts she gives. Gems are rocks, and rocks are heavy, and you always wear the necklace, would that have consequences for your neck...?

Hilda pats her cheeks and grunts inwardly after realizing she's acting like a fool. She adopts a different mindset, straightens her back, takes a deep breath, hardens her tone, and points a finger at you to speak to you like a soldier. But unintentionally, a compromising word slips out.

You ask: My what?

Hilda: What...?

The finger she was pointing with deflates and her eyes widen.

Hilda: I...

Girlfriend. She said it.

Hilda: ...

She quickly covers her mouth with her hands, at the same time a blush tinges her cheeks. She looks flustered, as if she had stepped on a landmine. She closes her eyes, moves her hands from her mouth to both sides of her face, and shakes her head. She doesn't know how, but she's sure she ruined it! Because that word wasn't supposed to come to her, nor the understanding that you are more like Luz and Marie, than like the leader and Doggo.

She carefully opens her eyes and looks at where you are to study your reaction. At least superficially, you remain calm.

Hilda: I didn't say anything. You misheard.

That's not true, but Hilda insists on walking as if eager to leave her mistake far behind. But every handful of steps she glances at you with narrowed eyes, as if trying to glimpse what you're thinking.

Hilda: And what did I say?

D-A-N-G-E-R

Hilda: And how is it?

D - A - N - G - E - R.

Hilda: And what did I say?

D-A-N-G-E-R

Perhaps, the fifth time she asks, you'll notice her mischievous little smile.

1/?
Marisa+8 Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5894 es
>>5892
>It's an arrow! H-How is it not going to hurt?! It's a piece of iron, the body isn't a good place to put a piece of iron!

"Sorry. I said it would hurt less, not that it wouldn't hurt." I could have also said 'snowflakes' but he's not that old, I don't know if Charli is older and I'm not trying to argue but to clarify "At least it does less damage than a gunshot. I've seen many gunshots and people rarely get up from those, today I've already seen like 10 or more."

>Marco... Is that really you? You're... You're a different color.

"You have fewer wrinkles. But couldn't you have asked for longer legs?" It's a sincere question, he doesn't know the details of his deal with the worm, he only knows that both of them would be a little better off with a few extra inches, now it's less likely he'll have a career as a basketball player.

>I-I just wanted... I wanted to feel good being myself!

"Y-yeah, yeah. There's nothing wrong with that." He nods and tries to hold back tears, glancing at the alley exit, he's lucky talking is a free action and they won't all die because he stopped to do this "I'd hug you, but I don't want to hurt you by accident."

He gives Charli a pat on the back and leaves the alley to let him cry in peace where he won't get too emotional, he needs his eyes to see where he's putting the arrow. Turns out he was worrying about the wrong body part because it's his fingers that betray him at the critical moment.

>Tornad-

"D'oh..." He grunts annoyed and closes his eyes, preparing for the next time he opens them there to be like 3 extra dead or more, but no.

>STOP!

The woman he met today and the man he met today seem to have a history together, what they're saying sounds like just enough context to understand the drama, like one of those telenovela scenes that would sometimes skip when he changed channels. But even though he has a female body, he's not old enough yet to be entertained by gossip and telenovelas for more than a few seconds so, just like when he skipped one while changing channels, he loses interest in a few seconds, loads as many arrows as he can and prepares to shoot.

>I'm sorry, public high school mediator. You won't get out of this with your ridiculous new age hippie diplomacy.

"Honestly, I wouldn't have minded if it ended like this." He has no right to complain either, if he's already aiming two arrows at the other guy.

That talking is actually a free action is put into question after Bill is distracted using his mouth, but he can't complain if it's thanks to that they can kill him before he kills them. Or he can kill him. Specifically him. With an arrow to the noggin.
"All right! Well, there you have it, I killed a person!" Is the first thing he says after Bill's death is confirmed and he can stop holding his breath, fists shoved in his pockets. "And this time it wasn't even someone half or three-quarters spider, that thing about becoming a monster the higher you go must just be a saying... It wasn't even that hard, though my hands are shaking."

He's surprised himself at how steady his aim was in the midst of those tense moments, though he hadn't noticed how much he was shaking until it was all over and he didn't have the strength to even stand. He zips up his jacket again to be doubly sure it's not just the cold making him shiver and the adrenaline leaving his system that's keeping him safe from hypothermia.

He's also surprised Bill didn't get up again like a zombie and that the others left instead of jumping them, but that's another topic he's not going to discuss now.

"Do I have to pray now? I mean, I'm already on my knees." He doesn't feel like raising his arms, and if he raises them to pray for a dead person, he won't be able to put them down until he prays for all fifty or a hundred lying around, not counting the thousands who retreated.

>Are you hurt? W-Where did they touch you?

"Uh... I don't remember." He also doesn't want to remember, as the phrase 'Where did they touch you?' makes him think. "I think the garage exploded." And that's the last time he remembers getting seriously hurt, aside from the blow Alondra landed on him in a past life.

>I saw what you did, you killed that man! You can cry... You should cry.

"He killed many more... And he would have killed more too." He pouts, feeling more like crying for other reasons than that, and he probably will, but he doesn't want them to assume he's going to cry over that guy.

Then Alondra notices the arrow Charli has stuck in him, and he does too, so she runs to hug him protectively, suspecting that seeing him with an arrow stuck in him would be suspicious and he'll have to convince them it's not and it's totally fine to let him stay in town. Also, just in case the weird guy from last time shows up.

I gain 2 or 20 HP, 1 to Luck, and 1 to Strength.

>>5762
As the bow's description says "For every 5 agility you get an extra attack." I assumed that with less than 5 agility you can shoot one arrow, with 5 or more you can shoot two, with 10 three and so on. Or with less than 5 agility I can't shoot any arrows, with 5 I shoot one and with 10 two?
Rolero Andalusite-05a37e No.5895 es
eea36582a828f454016448be07a2d24e7d7721b0fd77f7e29dc7635345d61174.webp
11 KB 360×624
396c6583cb5a80c3e6fd42d635c004d3fa6c9a2bcdd7930a5865d84d43416eac.webp
11 KB 618×322
>>5893
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 23. Hour 8)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 39/70
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 19/20
-Strength: 5 + 20 Hilda's Lance
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Necklace + Hilda's Flower Crown (Melting)
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of Salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 5
The little princesses remain paralyzed at the side of the pond, biting their nails as they watch their friend sink into a meter of moss-green water. You walk between them, stretch over the railing - it pressing into your solar plexus - and extend your arms and fingers as far as possible to reach the wet skirt. You pull the fabric, grab the girl by the armpits, getting your chest a little wet, and carefully lay her down beside the pond.

Returning to Hilda, you glance over your shoulder. The soaked princess opens and closes her little eyes, still somewhat disconnected from reality... She'll live. One of the friends fans her face with a fan, and the other lifts the hems of her skirt to run and get a jumpsuit.

None of them thank you, but you didn't expect them to. You notice Hilda looking at you in profile.

Hilda: You're good, Cat.

She uses your name/nickname, as she always does when people are around. She pulls a handkerchief from her vest pocket and passes it over your neck and chest, trying to dry you. She would hate for you to get sick.

Hilda: I would have let her soak a little longer. I'm not as good as you.

The number of outsiders dwindles to a distant rumor. The windows are weathered by dust and humidity, plants grow wild and untamed, and Hilda's lips again roll the word "Ashley" as if it were her favorite. Meanwhile, you marvel at the claustrophobic, stained glass that covers them.

You like it.

The bully slows her pace to look at you, and gives you a small smile. She has practically forgotten her strict instructor persona.

Hilda: These places are almost like people. It's worth being brave and exploring, because you'll find treasures, special places, things that make your heart race.

The door with steel bars appears, along with the warning sign indicating danger.

Hilda: And also things that hurt.

She adds in a lower tone of voice.

She creates a spear for you, it's yours because it's made for you. She grabs the key from your hands and uses it to open the door, the iron groans as it moves I thought it was implied, my bad. You go first, and she places the brush as a stopper in a move she judges to be genius.

You grab her face and purse your lips. To your left: Stained glass: To your right: Dirty glass: Behind you: Barred door. In front: Hilda blushing, her cheeks squeezed by your hands. It's an arrangement of elements that comforts you.

Hilda imitates you, makes duck lips and brings them closer, presses yours, it's an almost electric softness. Mwah. She pulls away, looks down at your chest, and places her hand over your heart. At first, you might think she's trying to feel your heartbeat, but she's actually making sure you're wearing dry clothes. She meets your eyes again, smiles, and leans in to give you another innocent kiss. Still smiling, she looks to the side.

Hilda: The levels don't explore themselves, Ashley.

She says without making the slightest movement or gesture to pull away.

Somehow you manage to resume your journey and venture into the depths of the greenhouse. "Depths" is a word that resonates in your head and seems very fitting for what you see, because even though it doesn't beat, the skeleton of cement and glass merges with the plants, and they are indeed alive, they crowd against the glass, lacerate the concrete, coil around the metal beams.
Because you were being nosy, you bump into Hilda's back, who stopped without warning to point at...

Hilda: A spike trap.

A carpet of aloe Vera. From a certain perspective, yes, they look like fearsome green needles waiting for unwary prey. Among the specimens peeking out from the earth and the broken windows, you also recognize chamomile, rosemary, mint, and eucalyptus.

The bluish girl might not know about real-world botany, but she does know about labyrinth monsters, which is why she doesn't hesitate to stick her finger into a jelly concoction and suck the viscous substance, clicking her tongue as she savors it. You relay your information and your concern to her, and she dismisses it with a wave of her hand.

Hilda: If it were poison, I would have told you... Hey, look, a puddle of poison.

Obviously.

Hilda: Want to see real poison?

She asks the second question with childlike excitement, almost as if she were going to show you a dinosaur. If you said yes, she would pull out her bottle of liquid pain from her backpack: a plastic container holding a red liquid and a piece of paper taped on with the words "Liquid Pain" written in Hilda's messy handwriting and a drawing of a skull with crossed tibias.

Hilda: Pick the plant you like the least.

Once you have one (it might take a while), she could get her blades out. Hilda uncaps the bottle and drops a drop of the substance onto the plant. In a second, it withers, and in the next second, it disintegrates into a handful of dust.

Hilda: It's more spectacular with rats. They literally explode, it's like, boom!

She spreads her arms, the liquid in the bottle sloshing dangerously. She screws the cap back on and puts the bottle in one of her front pockets.

Hilda: I have it for emergencies, I don't think we'll use it. Did you know some people drink it?

...

You track the moth, following the trails of jelly and cut leaves. You find it. It's big, bigger than you expected for your first prey. But Hilda, hidden beside you, reminds you that it's still just a bug. The undergrowth conceals you.

Hilda (Whispering): Yeah, you have to kill... Killing is good, it makes you strong.

You frown, her murmur has a hint of demand.

Hilda (Whispering): If that thing saw you, it would hurt you without hesitation. I don't want you to get hurt, I want you to be like me. If you're scared... Don't be, because I'll be behind you, okay?

You grip the spear.

-Hilda's Spear
Function: +10 damage. +5 damage for each "Hilda" item equipped. If you throw it, add your total agility to the damage.
Description: Improvised spear made from a broom and a double-edged knife.

Hilda's treasures remind you that you are not alone.

Hilda (Whispering): Remember, one hit. It would be very bad if you gave it a chance. The deathmoth won't give you one, that's why it's called that.

You lift your body. The leaves rustle slightly. Then you jump and dart out. Step by step on the cold ground, with the potential worry of getting tangled in a root. With each second, the moth looks more massive, and the designs on its back increasingly resemble skull grimaces.

Your heart freezes.

The weight of a possibility falls upon you.

It's not a natural insect, its eyes are on its back, and it saw you coming from afar.

It doesn't just have a pair of gazes, it has dozens, they spread across its wings and have faces that laugh at you.

Such abrupt certainty almost makes the spear slip from your fingers... But you compose yourself.

It was fleeting, a theory you didn't take even half a second to dismiss, because it was more the work of terror than logic. The reality is you only have one chance...

And you weren't planning on wasting it.

You throw.

2/4
Rolero Andalusite-05a37e No.5896 es
f01d98386133406de9f95219bf72c1fe040a0f8dd69da43414f022780de53458.webp
22 KB 750×422
a329a1742a6dc9004008da1c2ebd0d33c85b57cfda5103e205b099caffe8547e.jpg
6 KB 250×167
>>5895
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 23. Hour 8)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 38/70
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 19/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar + Hilda's Flower Crown (Melting)
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of Salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 5
The spear buries itself under the fold connecting the head to the rest of the body, with a wet crunch. What was an inert threat, awakens and flaps its wings, generating a gale and a horrible buzz. The wind buffets you, the collar hits you in the nose, and the kicked-up dirt makes it hard to see. Male deathmoths are thrown in all directions by the wind. Through the curtain of dust, you glimpse the moth's figure and the buried spear wriggling like a flagpole in a furious storm. You could swear the weapon would break, that the insect would catch you...

But the knots hold, and the flapping ceases.

-Deathmoth (Female)
HP: 0/80
-Strength: 8
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4

5 experience points received!

The dust settles and you can see again. The moth is once more inert, small spasms make its wings tremble, and steam rises both from the hole where the spear is stuck and from beneath the creature. The wood of the spear creaks and separates from the body, falls, and bounces into the den of remains, the broken end continues to be consumed by the action of unknown acids.

The hours tumble by. Hilda runs and reaches you. She looks at the dead moth, and then looks at you from bottom to top.

Hilda: How...? How are you feeling?

Physically, your hands and back hurt, and your legs too from the sudden effort, and your flower crown starts sticking to your forehead from sweat. But that you are whole is obvious to the blue-haired girl, what worries her are your emotions.

Hilda: Don't worry about the spear, when I can I'll make you another one, twice as good.

Something sounds. A groan from the den startles her and makes her point her shotgun. Is the moth alive...? No, the noise comes from the semi-dissolved remains in acid and jelly. The blue-haired girl takes the lead to cover you, and she quickly identifies that one of the skulls is opening and closing its jaw, and it has beautiful blue eyes. The proximity of the nest should be nauseating, but the jelly gives off a sweet aroma that is pleasant, and that might even be worse.

Wanderer: Enough... Enough...

The voice of the skull with straight hair is hoarse but feminine, interrupted by gasps of difficult breathing. It lacks features, lips, nose, or eyebrows, a green, greasy layer replaces its face, but not its expression, because its eyes manage to convey desperation. Hilda looks at you, then looks at the woman, she remains silent.

Wanderer: No... more... No more...

She waves her bony hand, the only one you see she has, and such a gesture dislodges another lump in the den. The lump rolls until it ends up at the foot of the mound of death, it is shiny, it is not bone, it is metal: a video camera. Soon a drop of water falls on it, then two more on you, you look at the ceiling, and among the tangle of plants you manage to spot a sprinkler.

Hilda: Ashley, go back the way we came and wait for me on the path. We need to find a place to set up the tent before it rains.

Hilda says, her eyes on the woman who stares back at her.

Hilda: I... have to make sure of something.

3/4
Rolero Andalusite-05a37e No.5897 es
df2fbdad4ea6610390ce8cc7de20b19069f69e334b593c23bb160f4dcec72bad.gif
185 KB 500×281
de4ae84f05d5c980aed7d68fda3397c05c7dc71fa8400f30a30ae1c3c39bec15.webp
120 KB 1255×1589
a3ddae878b99d3e205853bd89cf6d47b291b02c126ea8456c4834fbec87f3f2e.jpg
152 KB 800×500
>>5896
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 31. Time 18)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 70/70
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
- Strength: 5
- Agility: 12
- Resistance: 4
- Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
- Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by CH. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Pound of Salt
- Bag 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 10
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dC6Hq-OvaUYSnow was falling like lead through the window, and your reflection was painted by the black mirror of darkness. But you still saw the green of the greenhouse, and all the experiences you had in the hotel before leaving. The things that quickened your heart, and the ones that hurt.

But you must focus on the now.

You had already swapped the pound of salt in your pocket for a new one, and you headed to the lobby to receive today's guest. It was a miracle that she agreed to come with the worsening weather, but Charmy insisted. The kids were aware of the doctor's visit, but didn't receive details, at most Charmy excused you by saying you had a tooth problem. It would have been up to you to be honest with Hilda about your problem.

Wrapped in your coat, you waited until someone knocked on the door. Charmy peeked out from the window on tiptoe, and then made a gesture for you to open. The blizzard nearly hit you in the nose as you opened the door, and the invading cold almost suffocated every trace of warmth, a shadow entered, and you pushed to close it.

The person, with every part of their skin carefully protected by thick clothing, removed their snow goggles and lowered their scarf from their nose to speak.

She's a blonde woman with glasses.

Julia: Hello, darling. Do you remember me? They've told me you've made new friends. I hope you also discovered some music you like.

Since they needed privacy, the three of them went down to the basement. The hum of the old power plant is like a constant purr coming from the bottom. There's a collapsible metal chair for you. Charmy sits on a box. Julia, already in her typical work robe, leans towards you to check your eyes with a low-lumen flashlight.

Julia: Tell me everything you can about your episodes. The more detailed, the better.

Put away the flashlight, and take out a small hammer with which she gently taps your knees, testing your reflexes.

Julia: Depending on what you tell me, I'll be able to intuit whether what's affecting you is psychological... Or a material and physical phenomenon.

Put away the hammer, and now take out a wooden palette with which she examines your mouth.

Julia: At a superficial level, I don't perceive anything out of place beyond particularly prominent fangs. For now, I'll rule out vampirism.

It's hard to tell if she's joking.

Put the palette in a plastic envelope, and now take out... A sandwich? Just enough to remove the napkins that wrap it so your nose is assaulted by the smell of bacon grease and the sweetness of corn syrup and jam. You also spot banana/chip slices.

Julia: During the trip, I didn't have time to eat. Would it bother you if I eat while we talk? It's an Elvis. If you're up for it, I can offer you some.

4/4
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5898 es
87bd100ec55adb67577c8739aa1f666014262f36f743fac270bd9f034457a9cb.jpg
45 KB 736×981
>>5887
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 68, hour 1)
HP: 170/170
Energy: 72/80
Hunger: 38/40 - Thirst: 38/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 11
-Endurance: 12
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Towel (Bloodstained)
Almond water bottle with salt (13/15)
Eye of Argos
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Ultimate secret of the body judging itself (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it is used).

Level 10
You still have the bruises and scrapes from when Smile rammed you, again and again against the snow, like it was breading a cutlet. You really tried to dodge the entity with all your instinct and ability, but sometimes trying too hard yields no result, and it's better to take the easy path. You discover the killer not through deduction but with an anomalous object that shows it to you.

Hank: You're the one with the magic ball that knows everything. Obviously we expect you to decide.

Abandoning Hether in the cold night feels barbaric. You argue for reaching a safe settlement and letting local justice handle it, but not before blasting her with words and making it clear that because of her actions, there are fewer of them now. She keeps eye contact, and when you finish speaking, she doesn't answer, just crosses her arms and looks away.

Hether retreats and takes a seat in the back, hands resting on her thighs. She keeps her eyes fixed on her feet for a while, until she lifts her gaze to scan the seats.

Sue peeks her head out from her spot, still carrying Baby in her little arms. She hesitates whether to hand him over.

The mother and the child stare at each other for a minute that feels uncomfortable, while the baby stretches his arms toward Hether and smiles. Just as Sue was about to pass him, Francine intervenes, grabs the infant, and pulls him to her chest.

Francine: Having me hold him is the safest for now. Please understand, Hether, it's nothing personal.

The baby bursts into tears. Hether crosses her arms again and looks down at the floor. Francine steps aside to let a long shadow pass; it's The Smiler, sitting upright next to the woman, keeping its dark, expressionless face fixed on the front. Hether doesn't move a muscle.
The snow and the night grow colder. Hank pours half a barrel of gasoline into the hole where they just dumped Leon’s body. Nadjela keeps him company. You approach them, and the guy from Florida, noticing you, explains what they’re doing.

Hank: She says we should burn it, so he doesn’t come back as one of those—ice people. I agree.

Nadjela nods, takes a hit from her marijuana joint, uses the lighter to set it fully ablaze, then hurls it into the hole. Flames spread and rise, painting everyone’s faces in shades of yellow, red, and orange. They keep a solemn silence, broken by the guy from Florida.

Hank: I’ve always wondered, though… why gasoline?

The college girl glances at him sideways but says nothing, waiting for Hank to elaborate.

Hank: The bus runs on gasoline. That shouldn’t be right—it should be diesel. What’s the reason? Is it a clue? Is this place trying to tell us something, or is it just some damn mockery?

Nadjela: Nothing here works with logic, friend.

Hank: There’s always logic. You burn fuel, the vehicle moves. It’s just that the fuel type is wrong. It’s things like that which confirm to me we never should’ve been here—this place is a glitch in the Matrix.

He shakes his head and walks back to the bus. Nadjela shoves her hands into her pockets and looks at you.

Nadjela: Thanks for not letting them throw out that woman. Francine and Hank are good people—they’d have regretted it later. They’re just angry, and confused. I was too… until I found a magic plant.

She glances at the sphere in your hand.

Nadjela: If you take that back to the real world, you could help a lot of people. Take care of it.

She gives your shoulder a pat and returns to the bus. You settle in as best you can on your seat, knees bent so your legs don’t stick out. You close your eyes, but a hand on your foot makes you open them again. Claus stands by your seat, hand clenched near his chest. His uneasy gaze can’t decide where to land.

Claus: I… This… Can I…?

He swallows hard and shakes his head.

Claus: Sorry… It was nothing. Please rest.

He turns his back and heads to his seat.

1/2
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.5899 es
c413524e3e087f62f0a1943052eb3c560bad398d70ef623647d4ef017af1ba82.jpg
188 KB 646×660
>>5898
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 70, Hour 12)
HP: 170/170
Energy: 80/80
Hunger: 40/40 - Thirst: 40/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 11
-Endurance: 12
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Towel (Bloody)
Almond water bottle with salt (11/15)
Eye of Argus
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Maximum secret of the body's judgment on its own (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it is used).

Level 10
Leon's knife was lost along with his body. But you found a crowbar under the bus seats, covered in grease, you had to wash it in a stream through the cornfield. You handed it to the boy, and he took it with both hands and looked at it as if it were a strange hieroglyph.

Claus: What do you want me to do with this?

You clarify that you want to train, that he should use the crowbar to fight you. The young man immediately startles and quickly shakes his head.

Claus: I don't want to fight. What if we just talk about our feelings? Th-This morning I saw a butterfly and it made me feel good.

Sometimes Claus could be more effeminate than you. You insist that everything will be fine, that you will go slowly, and that he must improve to defend himself from the dangers of the backrooms. Claus looks at the crowbar again for a while, then nods without seeming very convinced.

Claus: Alright, here I come.

He runs towards you with the crowbar raised above his head.

Claus: Aaaaaaah!

He trips on a pebble, falls face-first into the snow, and slides a few centimeters until he touches your feet with the crown of his head.

Claus: I-I give up...

The man calls you from the bus.

Hank: Irene, stop playing! It's time to follow the route.

You pick Claus up from the ground and take him to the vehicle. Claus apologizes for being useless and incapable of fighting.

You see Nadjela leaning against the back bumper of the bus, she takes a deep drag from her joint before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it, then shakes her coat as if that would somehow clear the stench of burnt cat hair that permeates her from head to toe. That's why everyone tries to sleep far away from her.

Nadjela: I'm running out of magic grass... That's going to be a problem... I don't want to feel my head full.

She tells you.

Hank is in the driver's seat. Francine is holding Bebe and giving her almond water with a bottle, Sue is holding her and moving the infant's little feet. Eleanor is lying on her back against the window next to the seats she occupies, reading a Lovecraft novel called The Thing on the Threshold. Rosynini is filing her hooves with a file, she asks you about your oral hygiene when she sees you pass. In the back, Hether remains with The Smiler beside him, Hank tied his hands with a rope and refused any other alternative with the excuse that they don't know when they will reach the settlement.

Francine: Marco Polo once said he was lost in a level for 100 days. He had to drink his own urine and eat the tips of his fingers.

The blonde whispered, obviously so Hether wouldn't hear the mention of his lost friend.

Hank: 100 days?!

The guy from Florida couldn't lower his voice. The idea seemed absurd and desperate.
Hank: I refuse to believe it. Just look at how he dressed... The guy was a bum, a lunatic. We'll reach the town or whatever before we know it.

The bus starts rolling again.

The landscape is like a repeating GIF you've seen a thousand times, an eternal cement row flanked by a gold carpet dotted with snow. But you're still paying attention, because sometimes there are anomalies, farms, places worth scavenging.

Sue and Claus play a game as they lean against a window.

Claus: I spy.

Sue: What do you spy?

Claus: A little thing.

Sue: What little thing do I spy?

Claus: It's golden... And tall... And there's a lot of it.

Sue: Sue says, what Claus spies is wheat.

Claus: Wow, you won again!

Sue claps. Then, as if she'd thought of something she absolutely needed to share, she gets on her knees on the seat and leans her face into Claus's ear to whisper something.

Claus: At night the snow stops and the wheat sways. It's a very curious detail. Thank you for sharing it with me, Sue.

The young girl lets out a giggle she catches in her hands.

Up front, Hank and Francine are engrossed in an argument.

Francine: I'm just saying maybe we should leave the road and go through the fields.

Hank: Sure, let's abandon our only shelter and means of transport to go wander aimlessly through a bunch of snow and wheat. Sounds like a foolproof plan. You probably cured cancer or launched rockets to the moon before ending up here.

She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms.

Francine: I don't like your tone, Hank.

Hank: And I don't like your idea! We're staying on the road, end of story.

She sighs and shakes her head.

Francine: I wish Maverick were here, maybe he would have thought of something to get us out of this.

The guy from Florida takes a deep breath, looks over his shoulder, and points a finger at her.

Hank: Well, he's not, and he's probably dead, just like we would have been if we'd stayed in the city.

Francine: Hank...

Hank: I know what I'm doing, these aren't empty words, my daughter depends on what I say or do.

Francine: Hank, the road!

The guy from Florida turns his head, his eyes widen, and he slams on the brakes. The tires screech and burn the asphalt. You plant your palms on the seat in front of you instinctively, you don't get hit. Claus catches Sue before she falls, and Sue protects Bebe.

Eleanor retrieves her book from the floor and dusts it off. She sighs.

On the side of the road where you were going, there's a parked bus. Time has rusted its metal and peeled its paint, snow has covered it, and a black paste darkens its windows, but aside from the damage, it's like any other bus, just like yours. Hank picks up the rifle and stands up.

Hank: Irene, let's go check it out. Maybe we can get more resources and fuel.

He gets out. Through the front window, you see him approach the vehicle and circle it with cautious steps, trying to look through the windows without much success. He heads for the door but keeps his distance, waiting for you to arrive so he can tell you he'll cover your back.

2/2
Gato pendejo Almandine-e450c7 No.5900 es
I'm reporting in just to say I haven't died, but my life now consists of leaving work, sleeping, eating to go back to work. That even though I like it, it's exhausting kek

Good luck with the other OPs
Rolero Sunstone-21719d No.5901 es
ef5ab45a5a6ee9d0662588a17e1bd4d2d107f2ab2fe96c91a93a959d3bd9ec1d.webp
49 KB 800×566
84cad4a89ac69fc99d4dc259e23303a757e4bef7f115a0d0919a8f875d812a3a.jpg
18 KB 480×203
6389ab9489b13aa51a7b89332636f67bf900710c170ccb18af998d2cd7386c6c.png
643 KB 1140×570
0396f8e5ef84551c4a981b0a0afdbbc43948c2d3b761706ec7e19756a774b832.jpg
170 KB 1920×1080
>>5900
Thanks for letting me know about your absence in advance. Lots of encouragement and good luck with your work.

>>5900
>>5894
<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 61, Hour 7)
HP: 40/100
Energy: 50/100
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 21/21
-Strength: 10 + Small bow
-Agility: 12 - 0 Stellar orange coat (Open)
-Stamina: 10 + 0 Stellar orange coat (Open)
-Luck: 2
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Trinkets
Trinkets
Trinkets
Crowbar
-Small quiver 9/12
x9 Typical arrow
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
Alondra: This isn't the first time it's happened to me. We'll build others.

That's what Alondra told you when you informed her the garage had exploded. What came next was picking up the pieces and licking your wounds. The sentinels joined several tents to form a large medical pavilion, which also served as a dining hall, inn, and bar. From the height offered by the stool in front of a makeshift bar, you looked towards the exit: The tent flaps stirred, and through the snow, you saw men and women bringing shovels to start digging graves to throw and burn the dead.

"Next!" they shouted from beyond the tarps separating the medical area. Charlie emerged from that area with a wobbly gait and both knees bandaged. Alondra accompanied him, with one hand on his small back. The two approached you.

Alondra: Have you eaten yet?

She asked you. Your stomach responded with a growl.

Alondra: Hey! Can't you see the kid is hungry?!

She yelled at the person serving at the bar.

They placed a metal bowl with a spoonful of some kind of paste in front of you. Alondra asked what that stuff was, and the sentinel replied that it was food.

Alondra: But what kind of food?

Food to eat, the guy replied, being parsimonious with details. It's sustenance obtained from emergency rations, but the letters were blurry, and they couldn't agree on whether it was banana mash or corn sludge. It's thick, lukewarm, odorless, and lumpy. But it's better than nothing.

Charlie carefully climbed onto the stool and, once seated, began to slurp from his bowl. Behind you, a merchant passed by, trading supplies for trinkets. Alondra spoke to him and left the pavilion with him, leaving you unsupervised.

Charlie: The doctor bandaged me, but he got the wrong leg the first time.

He clarified, wiping the back of his chubby hand across his lips to remove any traces of food.

Charlie: Thanks for keeping my secret, Marcos. Alondra is very kind; she agreed to keep me under her care. She said it's actions that help her gain good karma, and that's why she survived when so many others lost their lives.

He picked up the bowl again and, with his lips pursed, contemplated it, as if the sludge contained all the solutions he longed for.

Charlie: I betrayed my original essence, and now I've betrayed the white worm. I thought I would be a better person than the man I came from, but that was an illusion. Maybe I don't have the beard on the outside, but I still feel it itching on the inside.

He raised the bowl and took a sip of the paste. He moved it around in his cheeks until he swallowed and added with a gasp:

Charlie: 42.

He looked at you.
Charlie: That's the answer to life and the universe and everything. It's what the worm told me when I prostrated myself and questioned it for wisdom... But you know what it didn't know...? The question. What good is an answer without the question it answers?

She sighs and shakes her little head.

Charlie: It revealed its ignorance... It's not a god... It's just a crawling bug. I should have deserted upon learning that, but I don't know, it seemed unprofessional.

Alondra returns with cans of soda and two packs of cookies in her arms, her hair disheveled. She gives each of them a soda and a cookie. Charlie crumbles hers over the concoction in an attempt to flavor it.

Alondra: We'll spend the night here. Tomorrow we'll look for a new home. Maybe we can sell Flametower-18k for a vehicle or a mule with a cart. My plan is to go down or up, anything that gets us away from this shitty weather.

That said, the mechanic walks away again to clear a mattress inside the pavilion. She finds one that's missing a corner, as if a giant creature had taken a bite out of it. But otherwise, it looks sound.

Charlie looks at you again.

Charlie: I... I'd like to stay in this town. It's the first time the white army has retreated. Maybe here there's an opportunity to defeat it once and for all and save the backrooms. What do you think?

That night, snuggled under the sheets with Charlie and Alondra, you found it difficult to fall asleep. From the darkness came the sobs of children and adults, the curses of drunks, and the screams of the wounded. But after much tossing and turning, you managed it, you plunged into the dream cycle, opening in the process a window that points to tomorrow...

You are standing in a snowy wheat field, the frost agitated by the wind like millions of needle fragments hitting your skin.

To your left lies Alondra, sprawled in a growing pool of blood. To your right, Charlie is on her knees, a broken wand in one hand.

Charlie: Is this the right thing...? If we defeat it, the world will be broken forever... Maybe it's best for everything to end, kept in a sarcophagus of ice. That the great lie, the great comfort of 256, be consolidated forever at the hands of those who caused this.

She closes her eyes and turns to ashes carried by the wind. The ground trembles as if struck by an earthquake, and a silhouette draws itself on the horizon: a tall, bulbous tower twisting like a snake, swollen, with a tortuous slowness that promises an equal death.

I bring you peace... I bring you love.

Your ears bleed as you receive the message. The wind rages and flays your skin. The red-haired girl is dragged away and turns into an icy skeleton. The same happens to the batter. The girl with pigtails and fox ears. The albino young woman. The masked man and his otherworldly cat...

You lose your flesh, and the white snow devours you.

With a shriek, you wake up and sit up on the mattress, bathed in cold sweat. No one else is in the sheets. Beyond the folds of the pavilion, sunlight streams in.

...

>I figured with less than 5 Agility you can shoot one arrow, with 5 or more you can shoot two, with 10 three and so on
It's just as you say. With the coat closed and Agility at 7, you can shoot two times at most.
Marisa+8 Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5902 es
spoiler
706 KB 3755×3703 spoiler
"Then I'm going to help?" he asks, since 'we' sounds like a group effort, and he can't imagine rebuilding a building is quick or something one person can do alone. "I want to learn how to do something."

In and out of Alondra's workshop, there's not much they ask him to do or trust him with. Now that things are under control again, the responsible adults won't let him burn corpses anymore—only watch others do it. He's not especially eager to work at this exact moment, after what just happened, but jobs don't wait for you to be in the perfect mood, and neither do zombies, mercenaries, worms, spiders, and the other creatures out there trying to kill you.

>Did you eat already?

"Huh?" He's too absorbed in his thoughts to notice the question at first, and his stomach answers before he does.

>Hey! Can't you see the kid is hungry?!

Truthfully... the lack of appetite he had earlier when they were talking about entrails and lentils still slightly upsets his stomach. The look of the edible food they serve him isn't exactly the most appetizing thing in the world either.

>But what kind of food is it?

"Isn't poison," he says, before putting a spoonful in his mouth. "That's what my grandma always said."

He can't afford to be picky. If he doesn't eat it, someone else will—maybe some even hungrier African kid.

«Wasn't this supposed to be some farming town or something? Did they lose all their crops and livestock to frost?»

>The doctor bandaged me, but messed up the leg the first time.

"Maybe he was nervous." Makes sense, he supposes. A nervous doctor feels more trustworthy than one who's blind or unlicensed.

>Thanks for keeping my secret, Marcos.

He nods, pretending he doesn't want to talk with his mouth full, though really he just doesn't want to talk at all. There are things he wanted to ask or say, but zero desire to do so now. Probably just tired.

Besides, there's no need to thank or apologize all the time. Someone's always helping him survive, or he's helping someone else—just part of daily life here.
>Alondra is very kind; I accept staying under her care. She said these are actions that help her accumulate good karma, and that's why she survived when so many others lost their lives.

"There are good people here. Though I haven't met many."

Looking around the tent, he doesn't recognize any other faces, but assumes many in the village are similar, given how peaceful it is when they're not being attacked.

>I betrayed my original essence, and now I've betrayed the white worm. I thought I'd be a better person than the man I came from, but that was an illusion. Maybe I don't have the beard on the outside, but I still feel it itching inside me.

"Like, betraying Hitler or Napoleon or some guy like that should be a good thing, I think. It's more like correcting a mistake—everyone makes mistakes."

If he closes his eyes tightly, he can still see the mistakes he made and the people who died because of them. Even if Charli made mistakes with consequences just as bad or worse, he won't blame him too much for that—though maybe someone more directly affected by those mistakes would, if everyone were told about them.

>42

He nods.

"42..."

He stirs his food as if gazing into something profound within the bowl, only a few centimeters deep, then realizes '42' doesn't make sense.

"What?"

Though he pays more attention after that, he doesn't understand in much detail what Charli means, beyond the idea that the worm isn't any more a god worthy of reverence than any other grinning critter or blue bird from the backrooms could be.

"It's disappointing to build up an image of something you think is too good to see in reality, then finally see it and it's not exactly what you expected—or better..." He leans back against the chair's backrest, forgetting he's sitting on a stool, nearly falling backward before quickly sitting upright again and pretending nothing happened. "Better for all of us that the worm isn't an all-knowing, all-powerful god, and that the backrooms creatures aren't invincible monsters that get back up from the dead two minutes before the credits roll to kill the last survivor. That way, we've got a better chance of surviving."
Normally he's the type who never has plans for the future, not because the devil mocks those who talk about such things, but out of sheer laziness. He tends to act in the moment, and so far that's been enough to keep him alive. Adding that to how exhausted he is, he doesn't bother arguing with Alondra's plans before she leaves.

>"I... I'd like to stay in this town. It's the first time the white army has retreated. Maybe here there's a chance to defeat them once and for all and save the backrooms. What do you think?"

"Yeah..." he replies in a somewhat low voice, distant and blinking a few times trying to shake off the drowsiness. "Me too. I don't know if it's good for you, but I was thinking of telling everyone once and for all that I'm not a little kid. I don't think they'll let me contribute much if they keep seeing me that way."

By this point, people should already know enough about the white worm that there's no need to run around spreading the news. Besides, he wouldn't be able to do much more on other levels than he can here once the zombies come down there too—though how much they'll actually ask him to do is questionable.

Even if it doesn't feel like much, from personal experience he knows that if he bothers to give at least a little help, he can prevent people more important than him from dying. So he has no excuse not to try—his own survival also depends on making sure that worm doesn't keep crawling around.

So when he sees Alondra again, he stands as firmly as he can to declare his decision.

"You can't sell Flametower, it's mine! You said you'd give it to me, it's not fair!" The urge to cry that he's been holding back for a while now serves him well in this moment. "I like Flametower, I don't want you giving it to someone who won't treat it right! It wasn't my fault it broke, I swear! I don't care if you don't have the parts to fix it, it can still talk and it's my friend! I promise I'll treat it better! I don't even want a car, I want to stay here with it! Bwaaaaaah!"

It'll be embarrassing to admit later that he was some 18-year-old guy all along after doing this, but a man does what he must.

The rest of the night isn't much calmer, though the sobbing he hears now doesn't seem to be coming from him anymore—at least, he thinks. His head is too foggy to be sure whether all the people he hears suffering are actually in the tent with him, whether he's imagining them, or if it's some mix of both.
"What a pain, not even being able to sleep or eat properly when it used to be so easy. All that's left is not being able to shit properly and dying choked like my uncle."

But they don't even let him rest in peace while sleeping, it seems that as soon as he closes his eyes he has to fight for his life once more in desperate situations with people he knows dying left and right.

>"Is this the right thing...? If we defeat him, the world will be broken forever... Maybe it's best for everything to end, kept in a sarcophagus of ice. Let the great lie, the great comfort of 256, be consolidated forever at the hands of those who caused this."

"The best thing is whatever lets me live longer." It's not the kind of thing he takes time to think about before deciding that he'd rather it be him than whoever is trying to kill him, if he doesn't have context that's what he'll decide. "Let us live, I mean."

>I bring you peace... I bring you love.

The worm rises, looking less loving and peaceful than the first time he saw it so calm in its castle, he can almost feel terrified of it now. With such a large bug in front of him, he doesn't even need to aim before firing, the biggest problem is that the wind is not in his favor nor in favor of anyone else with vulnerable skin that can be torn off.

"Hii!" He lets out a little scream and looks around to make sure no one heard him.

He ignores the nightmare for what it is and tries to calm down, it's not the first time he's dreamed that some kind of overdeveloped insect is killing and eating him alive, and it won't be the first time it comes true, neither technically nor figuratively nor much less literally.

To forget minor worries, he concentrates on major worries and checks the sheets more carefully to see if he has wet them, even if they are borrowed and no one else is there to see him. Having fixed or ignored that other problem, he goes out to see if the ground is less snowy under the sunlight or if he will have to keep walking with his coat closed, also to make sure Alondra hasn't gone out to sell Flametower behind his back.

I thought that with two arrows and the x2 from the agility die greater than 40, I would leave his health below the 79 he had on the penultimate turn. If I shot only one arrow or didn't count the x2, it would be 79, but it's the same now.
Otaku Stibnite-8f171a No.5903 es
06ba87a768215eb9756c5e2d647356951c581eea91c01160cf0f73807064bbcb.jpg
133 KB 726×1038
e4a97e1c3b792d8a6a274c6a2e776ff763544700775ca429a0bdbc0118dc4b57.jpg
71 KB 1280×720
aa755b79dd944eecd654a680cbcce47f12fb3d0fe362419425ac6277d1a23d60.jpg
27 KB 547×365
ba27b6727c37912710f51b8073dbb232fe0b132c5ee90407e17a6a2defea0a74.jpg
476 KB 720×1600
>>5899
>>5898
>Irene

"Having power doesn't give me the right or anything... whatever"

The investigation culminates in a trial and deprivation of liberty for the mute girl, even if it saddened the baby, it was an acceptable middle ground, but it didn't give her headaches.

Like having to burn Leon's body "Well, I doubt he'd like coming back as one of them... it's like a Viking funeral"

Flames engulf Leon's body, the flames paint them, she thinks about saying something but is interrupted by Hank's tangent about diesel.

"Aren't they the same thing?" Automotive mechanics wasn't her thing either, Nad had her thanks to give her "Thanks, I guess... it's what my brother would have done, he's... he's too much of a boy scout to leave someone behind" Is and was carried a very strong connotation that she still wasn't comfortable facing "You know... just because we're in the storage room doesn't mean we have to be savages or anything, I'm not here for speeches"

>If you take that back to the real world you could help a lot of people

Thinking that for a second made Irene let out a laugh "Pfff, I can't imagine being a detective or getting very far before the government knocks on my door, but I'll think about it, thanks"

Before going up, she gives one last look at Leon's makeshift grave "You were a huge asshole, and I also wish I could have shot you... but I won't forget all the help you gave us, I hope you can rest in peace, wherever you go"

She stops talking to herself and goes inside to sleep, she settles in until she's interrupted by Claus, who regrets it halfway, to which Irene stretches and grabs him by the clothes to pull him back.

"If you want to sleep with your sister, you can say so, that way we'll be less cold" She hurries and assumes things "Come on" She lies back down on the seats and moves to make space for Claus, if he accepted, she would hug him tightly like a stuffed animal until she fell asleep

...
>>5899
She didn't have a knife, but she did give Claus a crowbar to start the melee path.

"Butterflies are pretty, and feelings are too, but if we run into another lunatic like Art or an entity we can't break bread with like Slime, we're going to have to fight, and the more of us who know how, the better... I'm sure Donny would say the same thing"

The training effects are... few, she observes Claus on the ground, and crouches beside him.
"I guess sparring is too advanced for you yet... ehhh" She tilts her head, thinking, "What would Marietta do?" She was a superhero, she must have training methods. "(Let's see... skeletons, tentacles, psychological problems...)" Better not. "Tatsumaki?" Marietta's master for sure!..."(We don't have the time or resources to train 14 hours a day... and Claus isn't a superhuman to endure it)" Quick, the answer comes to her. "Heh... I guess all roads lead back to Donatello." Hank calls her, Irene sighs and gives Claus her hand to get up. "We'll practice your swings another time, in Donny's absence, I'll make you a baseball player." Did Irene know baseball? Nope, but she had Donny's image of practicing tirelessly in the yard firmly ingrained in her memory, so she could at least impart the movements for hitting. "You're not useless, Claus." She kisses his forehead. "You just need time. I was also defenseless and scared when I arrived at the storage room, and look at me now. I'll make you a total 'badass' before you know it. Now, why don't you go see if anyone needs help with anything?"

She goes with the closest thing to advice in the group, the Floridian, the stoner Black girl, and her, the Otaku, and of course, Francine, who is herself. Nothing could go wrong.

"So I'll keep in mind looking for more of that... herb, on our outings." The pink mare asks about her oral health, now that she's started treating her teeth as best she could under the circumstances, she hoped it was better. Doubts about how long they would be here were prevalent. "100?... That's a lot, but at this level there seems to be no shortage of resources. I think we'll go crazy before we starve... can we harvest the wheat?" A ridiculous idea came to her, and now she adds her own tangent. "I mean, yes, it's full of snow, but that's due to external influence. The natural state of the level should remain. Could we harvest it and have flour to bake? If you can cook sandwiches with aluminum foil in the engine, we should be able to do the same with bread, right?"

Ridiculous idea aside, more talk about the path. "Well, the path is getting tough, but going into the wheat where we have no visibility would just make us bigger targets, don't you think? It's not like this place is infinite. If we're not going in circles, we'll eventually find something or understand the pattern this level follows and speed things up, don't wanderers do that?" She tries to be positive, seeing the friction between Francine and Hank. "Let's just... try not to fight amongst ourselves. Nothing good will come of it."

They brake suddenly, a new bus was on the road, new by novelty and not by its condition. Irene was already getting out with Hank.

"Do you think we can get spare parts from it? When was the last time they changed the bus's tires?"

She helps Hank circle it, looking underneath, and then above, stepping back a few paces and jumping. If there was nothing, all that was left was to look inside, guided by the image. The door was open, inviting. Irene goes with her machete.

"..." She taps the door a few times with the blade. If there was no response, she enters to see what was going on.

-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete + 1d50 = 12
-Agility: 11 + 1d50 = 38
Rolero Spessartite-70aa42 No.5904 es
e67ce3cfa12d8de57dd098d4108779e5416bc930731ad390de8f7c5dbbdc2474.jpg
38 KB 612×375
>>5902
<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 61, time 7)
HP: 40/100
Energy: 50/100
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 21/21
- Strength: 10 + Small bow
- Agility: 12 - 0 Orange star jacket (Open)
- Resistance: 10 + 0 Orange star jacket (Open)
- Luck: 2
Inventory:
- Pockets 4/4
Trinkets
Trinkets
Trinkets
Lever
- Small quiver 9/12
x9 Typical arrow
- Skills:
Déjà Vu: Goes back one or two turns in time. Costs 10 of hunger and thirst.

Level 10
You want to learn to do something.

Alondra: Now? It's too late, I can barely keep my eyelids open. Tomorrow we'll see how we do. For now... Don't move from here.

She goes off to haggle.

It's reassuring that the white worm isn't a true god. Charlie shakes her head and points her spoon at you, the orange pulp dripping from the tip.

Charlie: But it also means that victory or defeat will be the responsibility of all humanity. Doesn't it scare you what they'll put on our epitaph?

Responsibility, something you aren't given just for pretending to be a simple girl, too small, too naive. You could tell the truth to the others to get rid of that stigma.

Charlie: Are you sure? Giordano told the truth, defended that the Earth revolves around the sun, and they threw him into the fire. Sometimes people can't live with the truth. The man I came from fought with it every day.

Charlie's gaze fills with sorrow when a blue fly lands on her soup.

Charlie: Uuh... Another lost soul.

She starts looking for where the insect came from.

As soon as Alondra reappears, you stand firm on the stool to confront her decision with tearful eyes. The mechanic raises her hands in surprise and defensive attitude.

Alondra: Robots don't have feelings, they don't care if you treat them well or badly-

Your complaints turn into crying. Alondra visibly gets nervous, not knowing how to deal with this because it's the first time you're acting like this.

Alondra: Alright, alright! I won't sell it... For now. But I can't return it either, many of its parts are soaked in fuel, it's very flammable.

Next to the mattress is Alondra's backpack, and from this protrudes the head of Flametower-18k, with the eyes sealed, turned off. Maybe it was best that she didn't hear the conversation.

You return your attention to Charlie and discover her leaning under the bar. Her small pinky finger goes in and out of the wood, but there's no crack or hole, simply it sinks into the solid as if it were intangible. She looks at you with a calm expression.

Charlie: It came out from here.

Without warning she brings her finger close to your face. The plague startles you and you scrunch your face as if you had just sucked lemon. You remembered a hot summer day, the one where they discovered a dead, swollen rat on the roof of the house.

Charlie: I pierced something wet, what do you think it is?

The fairy asks the sentinel for a bit of water and soap. When she has the bowl in front of her, she submerges her hands and scrubs them diligently.

1/2

>would leave her health below the 79 it had in the penultimate turn
Well there's the possibility that she might have calculated wrong. Although as you say, at this point it doesn't really matter much, kek. I'll be more attentive in the next fights.
Rolero Spessartite-70aa42 No.5905 es
d48889799555f6d20f2f99deeffdf2363a87b1ef0c2c7df3661a2ae4c1693007.jpg
251 KB 1200×630
0be5b6afa27320b686ce5fc84713d9609b5474e17dba95690302dd78d431cc14.jpg
77 KB 750×407
>>5902
<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 61, Hour 9)
HP: 50/100
Energy: 73/100
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 19/21
-Strength: 10 + Small bow
-Agility: 12 - 0 Star orange coat (Open)
-Endurance: 10 + 0 Star orange coat (Open)
-Luck: 2
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Trinkets
Trinkets
Trinkets
Crowbar
-Small quiver 9/12
x9 Typical arrow
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
Your pantaloons are dry. It's a small relief that helps you calm down, and gives you the energy to face a new day.

Sitting with the sheets over your legs, you observe your surroundings. To the right of the mattress, Alondra's backpack is still there with Flametower inside, hunched over with his eyes closed. It doesn't matter if you call him or make faces at him, he remains inert.

You manage to put on your star-shaped coat. You walk outside, beyond the canvas the snowflakes continue to fall softly. The same shovels that dug the graves to burn the dead are now being used to shovel snow.

A small hand rests on your shoulder. You look back and find Charlie. Maintaining eye contact, she offers you a piece of stale bread.

Charlie: Dip it in milk.

Alondra finds them at the bar, where Charlie and you were sharing a bottle of gluff milk. It's green and excessively creamy, but it tastes good. Charlie wipes the back of her hand across her mouth to sweep away her foam mustache. The mechanic informs them there's work to be done.

Charlie: I have to go to the bathroom. I've been holding it since yesterday and I can't anymore. I think I'm going to explode.

Alondra: Okay, but make it quick.

Charlie pulls you to the latrines outside the pavilion, and when she goes in, she asks you to keep talking so she doesn't feel alone and to keep her from getting scared. She comes out and sighs, there's a piece of toilet paper stuck under the sole of her sneaker.

Charlie: I'm good as new. Let's go back.

You don't need to go back, an old pickup truck approaches with an engine that coughs and an exhaust pipe that spews opaque, foul-smelling fumes. You saw it when you left the pavilion, though you didn't know who it belonged to. A song from the country plays from the cassette player.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9rN67kPp5tQ
Alondra drives. She stretches, opens the door for you to get in on the passenger side. The backpack with Flame lies under the glove compartment's overhang; it's difficult for you to place your feet without stubbing your toes on the robot's head.

Alondra: Do you like her? She's a loan from the local government. Her previous owner was torn apart by the ice zombies; I doubt she'll want her back...

She starts the jalopy.

You arrive at the crater where the mecha was shot down by Bill the Filthy, and she orders you to collect the scrap fragments (-10 energy), while burly BNTG sentinels help her load the heavier weapons and parts onto the back of the truck. When you're rolling through the dirt streets again, Alondra opens up about what she's doing.

Alondra: See those guys working high up on the palisade?

She stops to look in said direction. With hammers, chains, and welding tools, men and women are reinforcing the wood and installing a few improvised turrets.

Alondra: In the cold air, you can smell and expect the final wave. If you were old enough to know video games, the closest analogy would be preparing to play Left or Dead 7 in real life.

You arrive at the scorched skeleton of what used to be your house. The task is the same: start rummaging for scrap and things you can salvage, only here the search area is much wider and you must be careful not to step on anything that explodes (-15 energy). There are other people working, orders from the mayor, Alondra assured, not sounding convinced about having strangers rummaging through what used to be your land.

???: A lemonade, please.

Someone calls you just as you're bending down to pick up a yo-yo with one of its melted faces. Looking up, you discover a young, big-headed girl with hazel eyes and a smile, who extends an arrow for the exchange.

It's Dora, the girl from the other day. It seems she survived.

Dora: Artemis.

She points a finger at you. Did she forget your name?

Dora: No, no. Your bow. You're like Artemis now. So cool.

2/2
Rolero Spessartite-70aa42 No.5906 es
31868e602cd66609b8953557c01be584de4f8633f80f97f5b6ccdb20b2b0f5c1.jpg
196 KB 1166×2048
>>5903
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 70, Hour 12)
HP: 170/170
Energy: 80/80
Hunger: 40/40 - Thirst: 40/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 11
-Endurance: 12
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Towel (Bloody)
Almond water bottle with salt (11/15)
Eye of Argos
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Maximum secret of the body's judgment on its own (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it is used).

Level 10
Hank: The same- what- you-?

You open and close your mouth in incomprehension. You growl, frown, and shake your head.

Hank: Remind me never to let you fill a tank. You'd cause a disaster.

Already on the bus, with the cold and serenity of the night pressing against the windows, Claus approaches you with a doubt but regrets it halfway. You attract him, he keeps his face down from nervousness. He looks up when you talk about sleeping together, and gives you a shy smile, as that's exactly what he came to ask you for.

You open the blanket and lean back against the seats to give him space; it's complicated, but since you're both thin, it's not impossible. The boy lies down next to you, you face each other, and in the closeness, he whispers to you.

Claus: Thanks... With Slime watching Hether all the time, sleeping wasn't the same anymore.

For a couple of minutes, Claus's legs move and brush against yours, looking for a comfortable position without bothering each other. That's when you take the initiative and pull him into a hug, sharing warmth. The closeness of another human being chases away the coldness of the environment in a way a simple blanket cannot match. For a while, Claus is tense; you hear how fast his heart is beating, but little by little his thin body relaxes.

Claus: Goodnight, Irene.

You fall asleep before him, with the wild thought of how such a weak boy has managed to survive this long...

The thought transcends the night and leads you to try training him in the morning. After seeing him fail in his first and only attack, you think of your references: Manga characters.

Marietta (Imaginary): You should get him pregnant.

That doesn't work and would be wrong on many levels. But that's what happens when both the Von Karma from the comics and the one from the backrooms act dissociated from reality. They are not human.

Tatsumaki (Imaginary): Throw rocks at him until he reacts or gets stoned, there's no middle ground!

That doesn't work either. Claus isn't a character from Boku no Hero; he looks more like he's from a bishounen, or a weird otome anime where he belongs to the protagonist's harem. You only have to see how he looks at you sitting in the snow with a repentant puppy-dog face, and the crowbar abandoned to the side. The only reference you have left is your brother.

Claus: Baseball player...?

He accepts your hand to help himself up, but still doesn't understand. Even more so when you give him a kiss on the forehead; he gently runs the tip of his fingers between his eyes. You tell him he's not useless, and you use yourself as an example of overcoming challenges. He looks away.

Claus: You know...? Deep down, I feel like I've been here longer than you. I'm not talking about weeks or months, but maybe years... Maybe my improvement organ is broken like my head.

But despite his discouragement, he picks up the crowbar from the floor and nods, assuring you that he will try his best at whatever you are planning.

1/2
Rolero Spessartite-70aa42 No.5907 es
6e9549b7e4c079f8a147a695402548b180eaea0dae3d92f548fef30338095574.webp
105 KB 899×928
b3121e958061f8c87573b8daf2a3a64696e6223ca6552ea741bfca5126b72794.png
2.48 MB 1344×1040
>>5906
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 70, 13:00)
HP: 170/170
Energy: 79/80
Hunger: 40/40 - Thirst: 39/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 11
-Endurance: 12
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Towel (Bloody)
Almond water bottle with salt (11/15)
Eye of Argos
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Ultimate secret of the body judging itself (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Prevents damage during the turn it's used).

Level 10
Harvest wheat? Francine looks out the window when you ask and bites her lip.

Francine: With this weather... I don't know. Those stalks look dying.

You argue for continuing down the road, but your stance is more conciliatory than Hank's. You advocate for peace between the parties.

Hank: I see you're a girl with a head on her shoulders. Keeping on driving is the best option.

They're forced to brake suddenly because of an obstacle on the road. Hank gets out first, you follow him, and once you're at his side, you share your interest in the bus. Hank pinches the rubber of a tire and it tears.

Hank: Too old. But the inside should be better preserved. Same concept as a can of tuna.

You venture up to the door, climb the mound of yellowish snow aged by time, grab the handle, feeling the cold metal through your gloves. You pull with all your strength...

Rubber and metal screech, but the door only opens a couple of centimeters. You peer through the gap at the edge, finding darkness and a heavy—slightly sweet, like moldy sugar—smell that numbs your nose.

Hank: Let me help. Sometimes I forget you're just a girl.

The man from Florida jams the rifle butt into the edge gap to pry it open.

Hank: One, two, and...

You both pull together.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=870j0RZhRD4
The door pops loose and you fall on your ass into the snow.

When you open your eyes, an amorphous swarm jostles you and deafens you with its buzzing. A hundred moths flutter around your face, one flies into your mouth and you accidentally bite it, producing a wet crunch (-2 hunger).
The rest of the swarm leaves for the wheat field, and from there ascends towards the clouds, to the sky, disappearing into the white of the heights.

Hank: Are you okay? Do you want water?

He asks you before returning his attention to the inside of the bus. He decides to go ahead, gets on, and disappears into the gloom of the bus. A minute passes and he doesn't return or give any sign of life. You stand up and, with your machete ready, you enter cautiously, but you don't need to go far to notice the skeleton in the driver's seat.

It's slumped against the grimy window, a dusty rifle in its bony hands, and at its feet lies a Florida cap with a hole in it, plus an open, empty box of ammunition.

You cast your gaze into the interior of the vehicle. Hank is standing in the middle of the gloom, flanked by seats occupied by bodies. You recognize Nadjela's clothes, Hether's, even your own with Claus's remains thrown over your lap. You don't locate Francine, Sue, or Rosynini.

Hank's attention remains fixed on one specific corpse. A small one, with a book abandoned under the seat. Like the rest of the corpses, it has a bullet hole somewhere on its body. In Eleanor's case, the hole is in the back of her head.

Hank perceives you behind him, but doesn't turn as he speaks to you.

Hank: I'm not prepared to lose another daughter, Irene.

He turns slowly, his brow furrowed and his eyes downcast.

Hank: Let's promise never to tell anyone about what we saw here.

You return to the bus, Hank wearing a somber expression, but when he rejoins the others he tells them the bus is rotten and empty, and immediately puts the vehicle in motion to get as far away as possible. Francine immediately becomes suspicious and approaches you.

Francine (Whispering): Exactly what did you see?

Another one calls you, Rosynini, but it's for a different matter.

Rosynini (Whispering): I have an idea of how we could escape. It's a bit dangerous, but it could work.

She murmurs to you with her hooves near her snout.

Rosynini (Whispering): The problem is the weight. We're too many. To increase the chances of my idea working, we'd have to leave people behind...
Catherine/Ashley/Marie Sodalite-c3ce43 No.5908 es
56f3dd3836470e960b062343bd0475368ecc456414dbbb563d15347ad22fdcb0.png
816 KB 1371×1220
5bb2bfc7f36c60342c260e315b499a2cbb2fcd927f1097e1ff23ccf4a59c45c8.png
1.06 MB 950×1061
76d35c2fdf04cd1e6d6e0bb04a3eafc8d3b29400771b0ccfc60c8eceba012a2d.png
1.25 MB 1536×2048
c7ba6d40662edd189afb2a1e4d80dc872576670df23b3d3035187fb31d24e9f0.png
69 KB 566×781
49a88a2823ee9c2e386ee0f62e7bfb38cc98bd4d2d0ccb037851d5007afc6694.png
189 KB 866×901
Since you're doing meta, I'll take the opportunity to chime in and let you know that I'll be posting my turn in the next few days, OP. Maybe for tomorrow, I think I'll reply to Cat first because I'm really looking forward to writing that particular turn... And I need to think carefully about how I want to handle Marie's.
This post is more of an excuse to post these silly things I wanted to send kek. I realized I hadn't been making meyneys with Cat so I made these.
I was thinking of starting to make more curis for the roleplay. It amuses me.
Anyway, I'm putting it on record. If the number of posts bothers you, let me know and I'll delete it and just post these silly things along with my turns tomorrow.
Rolero Spessartite-70aa42 No.5909 es
c44b122b334e8a01ef8346a709e1f54c3e32561acc22a2b93a5a5092eff92448.jpg
48 KB 640×480
0e25a2c90980609e38d05fd9671f9882ffad059e86bc545655016ee8df9c3321.jpg
65 KB 1230×692
9467f210cf196a017f6c0c4f360df0ec25ec0ebbe89df10a9452fc14240b26ef.jpg
91 KB 1280×683
d27cb4e44b3a3992602e740f180f55024ae9b83e2d1fad96dc7ba1995724b16e.webp
121 KB 1600×483
64969f174377f63090ce5e0516da3b09779b86b317eb6b51ef20585f48fbd89b.jpg
535 KB 1920×1080
>>5907
<Martin Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, Hour 9)
HP: 77/100
Energy: 46/50
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 18/20
-Strength: 14
-Agility: 13 - 5 Watered Hazmat Suit V2
-Endurance: 14 + 10 Watered Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 3
Inventory
-Pockets 2/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Magnum Revolver (0/6. Damage x3, Priority +2)
Abilities:
Werewolf (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.

In the Frontrooms
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t6zhuFAoC6YThe silence is deafening. It vibrates through your entire body.

Your eyes threaten to tear from the vastness of the space. Occupying all of your upper view lies the profile of Jupiter, the sight crushes you with its immensity, your bones ache just from contemplating it, it's as if your skeleton wants to break through your flesh and escape. The skin of your face stretches against your skull because of it.

But you would be more lost by averting your gaze to the void, because in the distant stars you perceive the far-off shadows of incomprehensible horrors. You manage to hear the world's lament of crusts that were once cities, empires. It's like the roar of a dying beast.

Three black spots spread across the surface of the gas giant, accompanied by the drumming of a colossal heart that for a moment you mistake for your own. The planet stares back at you with growing malice, and you could swear those sharp mountains that look like teeth are smiling at you.

???: Overwhelming, isn't it?

The male voice, soft, and with a French accent, pulls you out of your shock. You look to your right and see the guy, for a moment you mistake him for Polar, but his hair is too neat, and Polar didn't wear a leather jacket or designer black sunglasses. You look ahead, you see Jupiter again, a styrofoam ball hanging by threads above the Buenos Aires sign. Near the post, there's a plaque that says:

Immensity - Coco Le Pou.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_I9xto06A0
Dozens of works occupy space in the white gallery with a domed glass ceiling, and buzzing like flies around them are the hundred or so visitors. Chatting, strolling, hypnotized by their cell phones, indifferent to you. Only the man from before shows a slight interest.

Coco Le Pou: That's a modernist outfit. Is it from Prague?

Like a zombie, you advance through the crowd. No frozen claws or anomalies jump at your face. It feels like being in a dream.

You push open a double door, and the sun greets you, warming the rubber of your hazmat, and the mundane noise of cars and pedestrians. A crumpled flyer from a certain Javier Milei, a man with lion-like hair, collides with your feet. To your left, there's a feminist protest, one of the feminists steps forward and stains your suit's visor with purple spray paint, accusing you of being sexist and an oppressor.

But what most draws your attention, almost like a magnet, is what rises between the buildings to your right...

The obelisk...

You're home.

You escaped the backrooms. But the questions still remain...

What did the experience leave you with, beyond being able to turn into a hideous walrus? What did it mean to meet Aurora, Malcolm, the cardboard knights, Polar, the strange people from the future...? Were they even real?

Where will you go? What will you do with your life? Will you keep a low profile? You have an empty gun, and a box of pills that reminds you of your illness.

Unless you resolve it somehow, you won't last long. It remains to be decided what you will try to extend your life, or if you will limit yourself to enjoying the little time you have left.
Rolero Spessartite-70aa42 No.5910 es
7d6637be4a7674c6deea3809699e485aa71704b9b21f3607f7b4238915ae8292.jpg
171 KB 850×1583
>>5818
>>5909
I cited poorly. This is for you, Martin >>5819 Depending on your decisions, your epilogue will be shortened or lengthened.

>>5908
Yes! I'll count to three and you'll delete it all! Don't defile the sacred length of the thread!

Kek.

They turned out very cute! But hey, Hilda isn't thaaaaaaat ugly (Waifu comparisons are hateful). Look at the pic, she's skinny, bony, violent, bad-tempered, ugly, dresses badly, doesn't wash her hands, but she's never a communist!

>>131302
Same. A big kiss
Otaku Cassiterite-f83213 No.5911 es
012a27df401fbcf4fcf7f90b10c71381486d9a77b29c78b77fe36d585643daa7.jpg
25 KB 480×360
d21c6a190fdbaaed623435a6af9fb95dbee04688293f3752993a0b8ad41b765c.webp
99 KB 540×720
>>5906
>Irene

No, cute guys couldn't get pregnant, she had failed her Oshi, and she had failed Tatsumaki, apparently she was more of an Autist than a Based one. Claus would be trained more gently.

"To say something, knowing how to move something heavy to hit is a good start before more advanced tactics" Claud still doesn't understand, and runs his fingers over where she kissed him

>"Maybe my organ for improvement is broken like my head"

"Awww little brother, don't say that" Now she speaks to him in a higher-pitched voice playfully "Everything will work out in time, as long as we're together, we'll keep surviving, and you'll get stronger, you'll see. Tomorrow we'll start with some exercises, I'm sure if we find another car we can take its wheels to use as dead weight" Ideas were already coming to her, maybe she would look adorable but she was going to leave him with the body of a Spartan!
...
>>5907
"I'm not saying it's a permanent solution either... but we should start thinking about something else"

They go out to see the vehicle in the middle of the snow, they force the entrance and are assaulted by a swarm of deathmoths.

"UGHHH" Irene falls to the ground spitting out the dusty remains, and wiping her sleeve over her tongue "How disgusting... yes please" She takes a sip of water to clean her palate before entering.

The interior of the bus couldn't be worse, first it might be a coincidence then it becomes a harsh reality when she sees the corpses in identical clothing.

She gasps, bringing her hand to her mouth, seeing their remains, and worse, seeing Claus's, now... she looks away.

>I'm not prepared to lose another daughter, Irene.

"And I can't lose another brother..."

>Let's promise never to tell anyone what we saw here.

"I promise..." She says looking at the ground... but before she can leave, she grabs Hank's arm "Wait, please listen to me"

"I've already dealt with this, I've seen people, twisted things that were supposed to be 'me'... and it's not pleasant, it could be something like that, or just the storage room wanting to play with our heads. But I want to tell you this seriously, and don't treat me like a child because we can both fight and survive on our own. This is a sign, a sign we need to learn from Hank, if we keep going aimlessly on the road we'll end up like this, okay?" She lets go of him "I don't want to boss people around, I was never good in teams, but please, stop being stubborn please, and if not for that, do it for your daughter, okay?... just, think about it and tomorrow we'll discuss it all together"

Before leaving, she checks if there was another Machete like hers or a crowbar among the remains of the bus 1d50 = 26

She leaves without looking back in any case, her bangs covering her eyes.

Francine was suspicious, naturally "Nothing good... tomorrow morning we'll discuss and see if we can think of another plan to continue, keep it in mind"

Rosy also had something to tell her, but it was a slightly more extreme idea "... 'How many people?'" She whispers her question so no one can hear
Otaku Cassiterite-f83213 No.5912 es
9b7663c5836358c475bb7e82d2bd1882aa5c2dac681f299721cd5231344e354c.webp
85 KB 1040×1200
e084f3e8c0ba4dbf10d311443dfa6fc5f86b60570482c5810c0a3c35cf7a469f.jpg
2.26 MB 2763×4093
>>5908
kek, I should make another edit to this role... but I have no ideas, someone give me a funny image
>>5909
Bravo Martin, you escaped the storage room!, I don't know if it would be good or bad given your condition, but you did it!
>>5910
>Depending on your decisions, your epilogue will shorten or lengthen.
Don't scare me
Palacios Lapis Lazuli-7bfb83 No.5913 es
023322ffa6147eb91eded215116a76ffa3a8df9442b87d566cc5d6a713257c7e.png
157 KB 500×346
0a5d43230a0f32509fd13f04b5b81dca341a356b93f87902a21d1bc997006c56.png
3.11 MB 4032×1960
>>5909
>>5818

The winds lash, the snow strikes, and he has one thing on his mind. Head held high, with hopeful eyes, clinging to the belief that up there, in the eye of the storm, lies salvation. He doesn't turn, not even when he hears his companions scream. He only catches fragments of what happens to them out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't care, this isn't about them, this is about him.

He was the one who chose to risk it all by calling this his ticket out. If he succeeds, he wins the lottery; if he fails, he ends up as cold cuts. He should be scared, he should doubt more in the face of adversity, but after all that has happened, even the latter option starts to sound appealing. He would leave this place on his own terms, it didn't matter if he did it alive or dead. The important thing is that it was what he wanted.

"Don't get worked up and worry about yourself. You'll be better off."

He rises, pushes the air, ready to accept whatever comes his way. A hand stops him, his supposed brother, trying to cling to a bond that never existed. Martín brings his own hand closer, for a moment he considers pulling Polar and the rest so they can accompany him. Only he doesn't, dragging others into his problems isn't something he does. It's others who try to sneak into his, it's time he stopped getting involved where he's not called. With a clenched fist, he hits Polar's hand and delivers a kick to get him off.

The others fall, he ascends, wrapping himself in the storm until he becomes one with it. The dust rages, clouds his vision, and hinders his consciousness. Breathing becomes difficult, even swallowing saliva is a struggle. Being so high up, the labyrinth looks small, insignificant even. It was a mere particle that vanishes with the wind. No, it's not the labyrinth, it's him being blown away, far, far away from here...

"Ha... HA, HA, HA, HA, HA! If you don't laugh, you'll go mad..."

The air currents stop, and his mind kicks into gear. He shakes his head, wipes his eyes, and observes. Buenos Aires, home, sweet home. The corners of his lips turn up, revealing teeth followed by a laugh. He removes the helmet from his suit, looking at the sky, and what he witnesses turns his happy chuckle into a desperate laugh. He had escaped, but he hadn't reached his promised destination. He falls on his ass, sitting down to consider his options.
Except that he also didn't have time to think about it, the very environment he found himself in was already doing its work. His ears ring, transmitting the null sound throughout his body. The gravitational force doesn't crush him, it expands him, he feels every muscle trying to break free. Faced with that sensation, he has no choice but to breathe and observe. He was expectant of his own mortality, it was an end he could never have imagined. That was his comfort, not knowing what he was facing made accepting all of this less terrifying. Witnessing horrors beyond his imagination, the only thing he could think was

"I don't understand"

As he utters those words, the world changes. The infinite space becomes finite, limited by doors, walls, and windows that keep all the external chaos at bay. It takes him a moment to compose himself, apparently he's in a... museum? A museum where they've surely already classified him as a fucking uncultured swine for what he just said.

"I mean, I know what the idea is, but showing me a picture of the object as it is doesn't quite convey it. It's like a teddy bear, sure, real bears can be cute and all that. The thing is, if you show a baby a teddy bear that's an exact copy of a bear, it'll probably end up crying. That doesn't happen with teddy bears because we remove realism by emphasizing the parts we find cutest. Do you get what I'm saying? To better grasp that idea of 'immensity,' you need to emphasize it, you need to make the viewer feel firsthand what you want to convey. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

He still doesn't quite understand where he is, but the fear of looking like an idiot outweighs it. Before he knows it, he starts spouting any old nonsense just to pretend he knows something about art. Once he calms down, he starts looking around the place. It looked normal, too normal, there were no entities, no infinite corridors, nothing at all. Even the people there looked and dressed like any decent person would, if anything, he's the one who doesn't fit in.
"This? From the ministry, I doubt you know them. They're a very exclusive group, or underground as they say. If there's a chance later I'll tell you how to get one"

Once he stops messing around, he goes outside and breathes some fresh air. Or well, as fresh as it can be when someone throws aerosol in your face; if he hadn't been paying attention and covered himself in time, he would be dying of poisoning. In another context, maybe it would bother him or he'd say something to the crazy chick who did it, but now he has more important things to worry about. He walks for a while until he reaches the obelisk, continues until he gets to Republic Street and lies down on one of the benches there.

"Get out... Get out, get out, get out! Get out! Get OUT! GOOOOOOOO LLOOOOCCOOO!!"

With eyes to the sky, he whispers, his voice gradually rising, repeating a single word over and over. His shouts soon turn into cries of euphoria as he raises his arms in triumph. He was locked up, beaten, mistreated, bugged, anthropomorphized, infected, aged, frozen, etc., and none of those things were able to stop him. With tears in his eyes, he jumps up, feeling like the king of the world. He feels like if he went and played the lottery, he'd win, but as that thought crosses his mind, another one arrives.

"Where the hell did I get money from?"

More importantly, did he still have a house? Because yes, he's in Argentina, but he has no idea how much time has passed on this side. For all he knows, he doesn't even know if this Argentina is even the same Argentina he left; it could be an identical copy somewhere else in the multiverse or something like that. He needs a way to confirm his suspicions, patting his pockets, he starts to rummage through every corner of his suit to see if by chance there's a loose coin with which he could use a public phone. A plan that's total crap, because nowadays there are no public phones and nobody uses coins, he'd need something else...

"Maybe that guy will give me a hand..."

With no one else to turn to, he starts running in his Eternaut cosplay, heading towards the museum where he appeared. The albino he ran into earlier seemed interested in his clothes. Maybe if he keeps up the act of getting him another pair, he can bum his phone for a while. He just needs him to lend it to him for 5 minutes to make a call to a construction buddy who lives near his neighborhood.

>in case he gets a phone

"Hey Daniel, listen, it's me, Martin. Do you remember me? The house and everything else, is it still there?

>>5910
And you go and quote wrong again, it's bad, bad, bad dude, everything's wrong with you, baaaad https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P7U8mFX7Z1w kek

>>5856
>Why the legs?, Can I at least keep one?
I'll let you lose only one foot, only if you don't replace it with a better one afterwards

>D-does it count if in the visions of the future Marie also lost an arm?
Nah, if it doesn't happen on camera, it doesn't count

>Let's make it a spin-off in the literature club
Alright, alright, my plan to subtly gaslight the rest of the anons into slowly starting an idol role is finally bearing fruit, kuek

>>5912
>Bravo Martin, you escaped the storage room!

>Arrives
>Joins a quest that never ends
>Loses the girl who followed him
>Gets locked up
>Escapes
>Becomes directly responsible for at least 4 deaths
>Takes a nap
>Condemns the future
>Returns to the past and abandons his new group
>Refuses to elaborate

If he had to be an Argentine character. Another crowning glory for my beautiful country. It's being celebrated at the obelisk, I'll see you on the other side if you make it out

>I don't know if it would be good or bad given your condition
I don't know whether to die peacefully in a hospital bed or fighting a bunch of ice zombies. I think I choose the former, maybe I'm the weird one
Rolero Spessartite-70aa42 No.5914 es
327deccc283549c572027c96c729df3b218f8bdc515aed222bf07452d19fefa1.jpg
1.00 MB 1620×2160
>>5911
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 71, 7 AM)
HP: 170/170
Energy: 80/80
Hunger: 40/40 - Thirst: 40/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete / + 15 Machete
-Agility: 11
-Stamina: 12
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Towel (Bloody)
Almond water bottle with salt (10/15)
Eye of Argos
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Ultimate secret of self-judgment through the body (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Prevents damage during the turn it's used).

Level 10
You spit moth pieces into the snow. Among the crushed mass, you still see an insect leg twitching. It's strange, and you don't understand why, but that image makes you think of Donatello. Hank passes you his almond water bottle, and you rinse your mouth and throat before climbing into the vehicle.

You perceive the bus as a dark, moldy metal tomb, and its occupants are none other than yourselves—versions flayed by time after suffering a terrible fate. Hank makes you promise not to tell the others, to avoid demoralizing the group. You agree, but not without stressing that this is a sign, and that repeating the same thing while expecting change is pointless.

Hank rests his gaze on his palm and shakes his head. He stays like that for a minute, then lowers his hand, looks at you, and nods.

Hank: Tomorrow... We'll discuss it.

There's a hint of distrust in his voice—maybe part of him thinks planning is pointless and that they're already doomed. When he leaves through the door, you turn back to sift through dust and skeletons, searching for any other useful weapon. During the process, you instinctively hold your breath...

You find the weapon at your corpse's feet.

-Rusty machete
Function: +15 damage. +5 poison.
Description: Spanish farming tool, poisoned by time.

With a machete in each hand, you feel like a character from Attack on Titan. Mikasa is your home.
With the (Functional) bus rolling down the road again, Rosynini takes you to her seats. To disguise the delicate conversation, she pretends to fix your hair. With her behind you, her fluffy body against your shoulders-back, and her hooves on your head, she begins to whisper the idea that occurred to her.

Rosynini: Did you see my butt?

It's up to your discretion how to respond to that.

Rosynini: The balloons are my glitter brand. Imagine you have two cows, one is earth, the other is air... I can make this bus like the second one, and we'll float, very, very high, until we escape or discover where the right path is.

And the problem?

Rosynini: A bus is very heavy, and it doesn't help that there are so many of us. Since I went to college (You notice she repeats the college thing a lot) I know how many people we need to leave behind to attempt the plan, at least two. We'd also have to remove the wheels, the fuel tank, the steering wheel, uh, leave it like a wreck... I don't know if Hank will agree.

They discover Hank's opinion in the morning, when they stop in front of the wheat to have breakfast.

Hank: No!

He throws his beet sandwich on the ground and points an accusing finger at Rosynini. The glitter-pony hides behind your legs. Claus is very still to your left and glances at you.

Hank: Do you really want us to destroy our only shelter and means of transportation? Have you gone mad, or did you conspire with the monsters to kill us all? You're a colored mare, I don't even know why we listen to you.

Rosynini: C-colored mare? T-That's o-our word...

The mare's eyes water.

Francine: Even if we agreed... How could we abandon anyone in this place? It would be cruel, inhumane.

Francine comments, hugging herself to hide her shivers.

Nadjela also hugs herself, though she says nothing, instead looking around with nervous eyes as she scratches her arms, neck, and torso.

Sue and Eleanor watch them from inside the bus. Martha also from the back.
Catherine/Ashley Sodalite-c3ce43 No.5915 es
ef585436870999d905714cceef103e390d1a120bb52c05ade49db091e8fa5c4a.gif
660 KB 200×146
2004890e0698c487468569217fbb7d6969d306efc936b00765abde26e7f8507f.jpg
51 KB 620×336
>>5893
>Ashley
Kek the hairy hand.
They're offered some kind of box, and without hesitation, they take it. They hold it at arm's length, like a freshly washed plate. First impressions come from the cover, which they examine with the interest of someone appraising a diamond. Their eyes tirelessly shift from the title to the characters, and from them to the details.

(Fantasy...)

They assume. And then, after a second look to be sure, they think the image is fascinating. Beyond whatever intention might have been behind it (drama...?)—they suppose—for Cat, the drawing looked... strangely realistic. They would've thought it was a display with statues and real costumes, had they not looked again more carefully.

(But you can tell it's fake...)

That surprises them. It seems realistic enough to confuse them, yet not so much that they can't tell it's a drawing. They wonder what causes that, but discard figuring it out and proceed with the inspection. They lower the object, now holding it in front of their abdomen like you would a book, supported only by their eight fingers interlaced like a net. The thumbs don't join in.

The purpose of this was to gently raise and lower the box in small motions—feeling its weight. This was her natural scale.

(It's fine...)

About the size of a paperback. A short one, obviously. Then she stops the weighing and lets her thumbs run over the surface, feeling its texture.

(Plastic.)

That's all she has to say. Then, she brings the object to her nose, and her nostrils flare rapidly as she sniffs. It doesn't smell like a book. She opens her eyes and turns the object around—she wants to fully understand Hilda, and she knows Hilda loves these things. On the back cover, she finds the most interesting thing so far: text. Like with any literary piece, though, it's just a brief explanation of what's inside the package.

(Mythical fantasy.)

She was right at first. Though with nuances. And with that, she thought she'd seen everything, but knew she hadn't. She turns the case so the opening faces her. She holds the spine in her palm. Then, with her eight fingers again, uses her thumbs to touch the opening. She's surprised to find a bit of unnecessary resistance, and hesitates, afraid of breaking the object. She glances up for a second at the monkey, and its complete indifference makes her blink slightly... before finally, cautiously, returning to the film, which she assumes hasn't been opened in a long time, causing it to stick a little.

She forces the spot where the covers join, and with a sound she'd describe as hollow and plastic—startling her—it pops open. Revealing a rectangle with small windows that don't allow her to relax the wide-eyed stare the noise had given her.

(I can't see anything...)

Is this what fascinates Hilda? Is it actually, in fact, a step beyond books, where you only have a premise and must use your imagination fully?

(No...)

Catherine dismisses the idea almost instantly. Not that she doesn't believe Hilda can imagine, but she knows her—or thinks she knows her well enough—for such a thing to seem like something she wouldn't fully enjoy.

(Is the film... inside there?)

That, somehow, seems more plausible. She doesn't know exactly how. But it must be like the television she already knows. It's perhaps possible that these small windows she's now facing could turn into an image. Or something.

In truth, Catherine can't quite picture it. But after analyzing it as deeply as she can, it's captured her attention.

She wants to watch it. She wants to watch it with Hilda. She wants to see Hilda watching it... Just once before having to say goodbye. Like she does with the case, which she closes again with a plastic clack as the pieces snap shut—but which makes Cat think it's jammed... or broken. She returns the film, thanks, apologizes for jamming or breaking it, and closes the door along with the day, going to bed.

...

Catherine empathizes with the fuzzy insect. They connect, in white and in wildness. If her feet weren't tied to the ground, they'd be much more alike. But the difference unites them. And though neither of them is a butterfly, Cat's smile suggests she doesn't mind being the most useless of moths.

And with the affection that followed—caresses through her silky, white Rapunzel hair—which she accepted with growing calm, like the rest of her tamed, ugly cousins.

<White and pretty, very white, very pretty, very mine.

Though maybe they weren't that ugly.

"Yours..."

Nor that wild.

"Yes..."—she answers, her voice turned almost a sigh of love, of longing—"you've tamed me."—she remembers those words written in her heart, so she won't forget—

<and you fly too.

"And—"

An objection was coming. But then came proof—something tugged at her quickly, making her flail her arms and legs for a second, surprised to lose the precious ground she'd just accepted as her territory, before the familiar warmth she loves turns the new world into her own.

"Uh? ¡-!"

She gasps from the initial shock. Hilda moves forward, and Cat's head lags half a second behind, threatening to fall before following the rest of her body as she stabilizes. At first, she's surprised, looking around with visible haste, her hair turned into an expansive white banner that flutters magnificently.
Cat clings carefully for a few moments, afraid of falling, but then the breeze, the motion, the height—excitement rises, a snort that quickly turns into laughter.

"Ja! Jajaja!"

Cat opens her mouth wide and closes her eyes, laughing like a little girl at her first amusement park. She laughs, with an expression of pure happiness the audience has never seen before. The joy of realizing she's no longer the most useless of moths.

That with her girl, she can fly.

...

One step leaves a trace. A trace is the worst mistake she could make. Every step Catherine takes tramples over the most fundamental rules her father ever taught her. Footprints in the forest could get them into enormous trouble—trouble she'd never understand, not even on her deathbed, because she never failed him before, and today Dad is far away. Very far.

And right now, Catherine doesn't even think. Even though her steps paint the white canvas of her long hair, or mark her path like Hansel and Gretel, she'd rather hold onto this gesture of love than undo her crown as common sense would dictate. As Hilda demands.

Hilda growls, frustrated for some reason.

"What's wrong?"

A fair question with no answer. The atmosphere shifts from frustration to something closer to a lesson. Yet this moment won't last long. Hilda's march is interrupted by a slip—something deeply mysterious. A word escaping the vocabulary of the supposedly cultured one in the duo.

<What...?

"My what." —she repeats— "What did you just say?" —clarifying her question, maybe it was too cryptic—

<I...

"You said: 'today I'm not your girlfriend.' That's what I heard."

<...

"That's why I asked 'my what'..." —she explains, in case it's still unclear— "to understand."

Instead of answering, Hilda decides to smother her voice with the palms of her hands. Embarrassment colors her cheeks, and Cat, confused, gives just a single blink that seems to last much longer than normal. They're mirrors—if mirrors showed the exact opposite of how you look now—because the blue one seems strangely desperate, while the white one remains as expressionless as ever.

"Are you okay?" —she starts to worry slightly—

Hilda shakes her head as if that could shake off an imaginary flame. The oregonian's concern has already passed the minimum threshold for action.

"Hilda...?"

She calls out. Hilda opens her eyes. Catherine looks at her with self-imposed calm, but she can't help breaking the silence just to make sure...

"Are you okay?"

It's the same question as before. But she really needs to know. She doesn't want her to feel bad. Or feel unwell in any way. If things went wrong now, it would be a devastating blow to the dreamlike journey they'd been having.
She refuses to let even such a thing disrupt the good. If she's not enjoying herself, they can go somewhere else. If she's feeling unwell, Catherine can take care of her. But there's something in her mind, a knowingly hypocritical thought implanted right where emotions form: if anything is wrong...

(I want her to tell me.)

She wants to know... Hilda would want to know too. And that hurts a little. Catherine understands she's hiding things from her, her discomfort. For the sake of their time together.

But maybe Hilda would rather know than be happily ignorant. Cat... won't know. Because she'll keep hiding the truth despite the pain.

<I didn't say anything. You misheard.

"..." —she stares with an uncomfortable normality, with that expression so devoid of emotion it's impossible to tell what she's thinking, yet somehow feels like judgment. Or that's what Hilda might think, given the sustained silence of her impassive girl— "Hilda, I heard you..."

In contrast, she seems not to hear her now. She turns her profile and paces in place. Left, right. The glimpses at Catherine turn out as expected: a girl standing perfectly normally. Arms at her sides, monotone expression. But Hilda wins, and the façade dissolves on her third look, now met with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Aren't you going to tell me?"

Probably on the other side they expected her to drop the idea of knowing. But it's hard when, through tears and blood, they forged the foundation of their relationship on a principle they might still be searching for even today: I want to understand you.

Maybe. Hilda still does things that spark her curiosity or extreme confusion. Like the bite she herself delivered. Perhaps if they hadn't been separated by centimeters of glass that hindered communication, she'd have understood sooner, and they'd have spared themselves much pain... but there's no resentment. Today she believes she understands, and accepts the mark she carries like a cow accepts a hot iron brand. Cows can love their owners just as dogs do.

Nevertheless, for the one in blue, things might be less complicated. Catherine thought about it a bit, and Hilda knows how to make her laugh, make her feel cared for, make her happy. She thought maybe her other half knows her better. Soon she decided that wasn't true. It wouldn't have bothered her. On the contrary, the annoyance comes from being wrong. Because she knows that if it's not true, it's perhaps only due to the things she's sorrowfully keeping to herself.

I wish Hilda mattered less to me. So she could confess casually, as she would with anyone else, what's happening to her.

(No!)

She throws that intrusive thought into the fire as if it were an unpleasant parasite. Hilda matters most to her. She'd never want her to matter less.

1/??
Catherine/Ashley Sodalite-c3ce43 No.5916 es
e83d9a78d267fcf291ace99d268494dd71f79bd848b4f6966122ac1e0bd7b4f9.jpg
25 KB 229×246
134624d173385e978480c34509eab7e8ebd3e4521519370a0f8626c87265ee33.jpg
68 KB 736×315
e89b9e025a52ed91a225a93309d02f909ee495f320b56d4eab0988f8209b6e79.jpg
95 KB 626×417
>>5893
>Ashley
<And what did I say?

That didn't save her from having flaws. Everything related to letters seemed to be one of them.

"Pelgro." -she clarifies- "P - E - L - G - R - O." -she uses her finger as a baton again to mark the rhythm as she pronounces the letters- "It would be pelgro. Not danger."

<And how is it?

"It's missing an 'i'. After the 'L'... P - E - L - I - G - R - O." -same gestures, her eyes go up as if trying to remember a musical score, because she has to think about it carefully, she wouldn't want to teach incorrectly- "Danger."

<And what did I say?

"Well... Maybe you didn't hear me. You missed the 'i'. That is: 'P - E - L - G - R - O'... Pelgro..." -her baton finger is raised to clarify- "That's not a word."

Danger. Pelgro. Danger. Pelgro. This repeats a worryingly high number of times. But Catherine turns out to have surprising patience to go over the word as many times as the blue one asks. Although in the end she's no longer sure what to think.

"Let me explain. There are..." -she looks at her hand and quickly raises her fingers- "7 letters: essence"

She shows him her hand and lowers her fingers again.

"The P." -she raises a finger- "The E." -and another- "The L." -and so on, or not, because she stops there- "this is the one you missed. The fourth letter." -she raises her finger- "the 'i'. There we have da-nger..." -she raises the next finger and continues- "G - E - R." -she thinks she has it- "Dangeeer." -she emphasizes the 'e' with her expressionless face-

Hilda smiles almost mockingly. Cat blinks a little, it's that mischievous little smile that makes the albino understand she's holding something back. She lowers her hands, without stopping looking at her with that neutral face that becomes a slightly serious one.

"What?" -they understand each other on special levels, even if Catherine isn't the most perceptive in social matters, she senses something. She hopes the basic question is enough to answer, but if not, she proceeds with:- "You're playing a joke on me."

It's a total affirmation that comes with the tone of someone who has just discovered who the interlocutor is.

"Hm... I'm angry."

She's direct, and her slightly furrowed brow seems proof enough in someone who so rarely has expressions drawn on her face.

"It's a joke."

Her style is more... poor, to put it mildly. But that was her attempt to play too, and to 'get revenge'.

>>5895
>Ashley
Paralysis is general. Fussy girls are overwhelmed by the relentless stream, and become criminals of inaction. Ashley passes among them like a specter of the lake, oblivious to the gazes that fall upon her, or to anything other than the task at hand. That girl with her face under the green veil of the water.

Her hands extend, and they get what she was looking for. She pulls, ignoring the water that stains her, and drags it to the safety of the ground once more. She moves away without saying or receiving any words until she reaches Hilda. A final glance confirms that everything is fine, she doesn't care about the rest.
<You're good, Cat.

"…?"

She looks at her. She can't help but reflect a momentary surprise, at the words and the care that came with them. Hilda warns against the myth of pneumonia, Cat allows it. She liked everything that came from those hands she got used to. She closes her eyes, surrendered, at the light touch, and uses the darkness of her eyelids to weigh the label. 'Good'… 'you're good'…

"I hadn't thought of that…"

<I would have let her soak a bit longer. I'm not as good as you.

Catherine opened her eyes and gave her a tender look that conveys the deep appreciation that the same blue-haired girl seems to forget she deserves.

"That's fine too…"

She retorts, and suppresses the urge to hug her or caress her face in public.

"You would do something." -and that changes everything-

When that girl fell, her dear friends didn't offer her a hand. But Hilda would have been willing to help, even if she were a stranger with whom she hadn't even exchanged glances.

"You're good."

She affirms it with a capital letter and a period. There is no doubt or hesitation in her voice. And also nothing that Hilda mentioned.

'Better'.

Such labels don't matter to her. Whether you are more, or less. She just knows that she is… And she wants her to know it too.



The accounts were settled, and the walk continued to unexpected places. To those spaces where few decide to go. Where glass is neglected, where gazes don't reach and the only voices come from the exuberant nature.

She knew that green surrounded her. Even if in the middle there was an extensive barrier of yellow. The whispers of the only mother who saw her grow, mother nature, with her chirping, with her song, with her warmth, made her feel at home.

She enjoyed the golden lines that filtered through the dirt like someone who allows themselves to disconnect by floating under an extensive shower.

Lost in a sigh of nostalgia, she admits that she likes the place. It's calm, warm, and familiar. There would be few things that could improve it.

<Ashley

That was one.

Cat is not entirely absorbed, even in enjoyment. If she were to ask for one thing to add to this place that seemed so precious to her… It would be Hilda…

(No…)

There was no need to ask. Hilda was there.

<These places are almost like people. It's worth being brave and exploring, because you'll find treasures, special places, things that make your heart race

"…"

She took a moment to look up again. Appreciating this almost never-trodden place once more in that way. She thought of home, of the hectares of lush forest that surrounded the small cave she inhabited. Of how she could run for 15 minutes in any direction without getting tired because she had practiced, and because no matter how many times she put one foot in front of the other, the trees never ended.

(That's an exaggeration…)
But it was an intentional exaggeration, clearly the forest had a limit. But it was huge, capable of making her feel the freedom she longed for despite being bounded by the concrete beyond. She felt sorry for those in the city, those who never saw the beauty in the forest. And, in part, Hilda's words made her feel a little bad too. Cat saw the city, but superficially. More than once she wondered how many things that unknown world held.

The truth was, it probably didn't matter anymore. The city was in the past, the forest too, although the place where she stood now resembled it. She looked down without thinking much more, and found that happy girl again. The smile was contagious.

"Yes..."

People. She hadn't thought about it. Hilda must be her most beautiful discovery. Even if it caused her some pain, it was eclipsed by a star in the shape of a heart.

She wondered for a moment if Hilda was right. If perhaps this whole life of barriers and hiding was a mistake. But she dismissed it immediately, it couldn't be that way. Dad taught her, and Hilda agrees.

<And also things that hurt.

Cat realized she didn't have the courage to meet people like she did to explore places. She hid behind that idea, thinking she saved herself pain - or at least wanting to think so - and they crossed into the dangerous place.

(People don't have this.)

She thought about the sign as she crossed the threshold. She knew at least where she was going.

(Although... Hilda...)

Hilda did, she thought. At first, she was so aggressive that she might as well have had the same danger sign stuck on her forehead. Remembering such days today felt strange, almost funny. Looking back physically, and seeing that face she adores and not that scowling girl from the distant past is the definition of contrast.

That look Hilda gave her ignited something in her. And soon, the blue-haired girl had her child with eyes shining like someone appreciating a diamond, giving her her lips and asking for hers. Hilda doesn't hesitate, just a little kiss. They connect. Another fleeting show of affection that Cat feels carries more beauty than shooting stars adorned with the same adjective. After the kiss, she looked tender, happy, relaxed. Unaware of the hand that guards her heart, not because she cared little, but because she didn't want to look away from it just to look at herself.

"I'm fine."

She assured, no matter what, although her palm felt the strong heartbeat like a big drum of love calling her special girl. It works. Hilda looked at her once more and approached with that speed between slow and fast that the shortest love kisses have. Cat received her, closing her eyes in the sweet moment, savoring the love that grew once more in her chest. The second ended, Ashley opened her eyes to find a girl trying to avoid looking at love in the eyes.

<Levels don't explore themselves, Ashley.
Catherine moved her face closer. She embraced her, closing the small distance left, and pressed her lips and nose against Hilda's cheek. It wasn't a kiss, nor a sniff—she rubbed her face against her companion's profile like a loving kitten begging for affection. Words were unnecessary; she wanted closeness, tenderness.

Hilda could decide whether to give more, or resist this brief moment of sweet devotion before the albino gave up, releasing her with the careful hesitation of someone who doesn't want to let go, then crouching back to the short distance they'd had at first, eyes meeting to allow the blue-haired girl the next move—whether it'd be their final moment of closeness, or the first step forward.

Thus they ventured deeper into the most secluded part of level 5. This prison of flora stood like a monument, and Cat observed it as such. That green ceiling felt like a distorted vision of her home—a faint memory, blurred by years until it blended with some nearly lucid dream. The trees were glimpses: of her home, of the encyclopedia, and of this world where wooden forms existed that even she didn't know. The sight dazzled her so much that she slipped into an unusual carelessness.

"Oh!"

It was a slight bump against Hilda's back that brought her feet—and gaze—back to earth. She stepped back. She didn't apologize; it didn't occur to her to apologize for something that didn't seem particularly wrong. Hilda wasn't bothered either—she looked serious, but because of what lay at her feet.

<Spiky trap.

Cat's eyes dropped downward. There, she found the green floor rising into threatening, jagged points. The forest girl smiled at her and stepped forward, taking Hilda's place as guide.

"Don't worry."

She said, before crouching down beside the leaves of that plant—one well listed at the beginning of the encyclopedia under 'A' that she'd read. She stretched out her hand as she spoke, making her intention clear.

"They don't sting."

She grabbed one of its leaves, pulling from the top. She whispered a soft "sorry" to the plant, then used the knife on her spear to rip the leaf out from its base. Standing up, she turned halfway and showed the succulent plant to Hilda.

"It's good for the skin." -dad's info-

Maybe that would make the girl see it as something ready to smear on her hands, or maybe it sparked no interest at all—but Cat pulled her hand back anyway, just in case.

"But not like this."

She walked back along both their footprints, until they reached that bench whose days of usefulness had long been forgotten. She approached, leaned her upper body forward, and carefully placed the leaf on the bench, almost giving the impression that it was sitting there. She stepped back a few paces without taking her eyes off it, and smiled.

(The bench will be happy to be useful.)

She looked at Hilda.

"We can come back for the leaf later. It needs to..." -she thought explanations were unnecessary- "sit like this a moment before it works." -she'd left it cut-side down to drain the aloin-

Maybe Hilda was curious how something with such obvious spines could fail to prick. Catherine gave a simple explanation.

"It keeps snails away."

2/?
Catherine/Ashley Sodalite-c3ce43 No.5917 es
0adbb41b468498ae338f44c8eae647f3d53b45e416ae0038537c1f3837a73d84.jpg
179 KB 1200×927
6ab3c72e2f03113e6adbad04608a60791d201859703da8b79546b0806230e47c.webp
4 KB 2400×1760
>>5895
>Ashley
But she didn't stop there. She walked over to where she had recognized another wild plant and crouched down beside it.

"Look."

From Hilda's position, it might have looked like a simple, generic plant. One of the many weeds growing in this now untamed environment. But from Catherine's perspective, as she brought her face close enough to confirm, there were those tiny hairs that would make anyone uncomfortable. It was a nettle.

"Come closer." -she asked, without taking her eyes off the plant- "some plants have false thorns..." -think of the smooth agave besides Aloe vera- "and others... They don't show their thorns. This one stings..."

And against all instinct, Catherine extended her hand and squeezed it hard, as if strangling the stem... without showing any ill effects.

"...unless you squeeze it hard."

The school of life. In Oregon, nettles were very common. Catherine got stung, and that's how she learned. Although the trick of holding them with this firmness came from Dad.

"Just so you know."

She let go quickly, as if afraid it would sting her anyway. It wouldn't be a pleasant experience, which is why she respected this plant.

"I know the plants here..." -she confirms in case one catches her eye- "that's a eucalyptus."

She pointed to a small shrub, far from the towering image of the majestic common eucalyptus that Hilda might not even know.

"It's called: 'varnished gum'." Varnished gum -found in the encyclopedia under 'E' for its scientific name- "...yes."

She didn't have much more to say. They were supposed to have flowers, but not yet. And this was a strange place for it to grow, but Hilda might not mind that. It served at least to show that she knows them. Just as Hilda knows Deathmoth jelly.

<If it were poison, I would have told you... Hey, look, a puddle of poison.

"Yes..." -it makes sense, but...- "...What if you didn't know what it was?" -that seemed like a valid question, would she have tasted the possible poison?-

<Do you want to see real poison?

"..."

She had no reaction, honestly, she didn't really care. But that happy face her child made was contagious, and she couldn't help but agree.

"Yes."

It wasn't a lie; seeing her so happy, it became a yes. Hilda was quick to go to her backpack and reveal a bottle containing a liquid of the darkest red possible before being black. It was, according to the label:
"Pain... Lícid?"

He put it into words, his eyes leaving the bottle to look at the girl, for her to confirm if it was a wrong word. It was, as he expected.

"Liquid" -that was the correct one- "...I'll teach you how to write it later."

He didn't want to directly say it was misspelled, but his words made it clear in a way he found more appropriate. Cat liked the idea of teaching Hilda how to write things. Not so much what was coming.

<Choose the plant you like the least.

"Oh..."

He soon guessed they were going to hurt one. His gaze wandered to the nettle that Cat had already grabbed today. He wondered if that was the best candidate, it stung, its little hairs hurt a lot, in a way that could justify a vital lesson. But the girl wouldn't say she didn't like it.

It wasn't her fault. It was perhaps all she had to live on. She couldn't move, nor speak. She just wanted to be planted and live without being bothered. If it hurt you, it was because you went to bother it, because its thorns were all it had. But you learned from that, and if you held it firmly, it wouldn't hurt you anymore. Catherine thought for a moment that if Hilda were a plant, perhaps she wouldn't be very different. And then, even saving distances, it seemed to her that she liked nettles a lot. She looked away from the nettle and preferred to approach any random weed.

"I'm sorry."

He repeated in a low voice. He extended his hand, plucking a small leaf at random. Just one, and he returned to Hilda to show it to her like a child handing over their lollipop.

"Just one leaf."

He stated it with words, so she would understand what he preferred. The instructions were to put it on the ground, and so it was done. The leaf lay on the floor with the bottle tilted over it like a roof. Cat watched intently as a single dark drop, which even alone wasn't transparent at all, protruded and separated from the mouth of the bottle. The darkness crushed the green, consuming its life like a flame until it was completely pulverized.

gasp -he gasped, he felt sorry for it-

<With rats it's more spectacular. They literally explode, it's like, boom!

"..." -he startled when they shook the bottle near him, Hilda covered it, but Cat still looked embarrassed- "..."
But she didn't object. She knew rats were a pest. She wasn't above killing them. She thought maybe making them explode was excessive, but she had resorted to crushing one with a rock.

(Does cruelty not matter if it's a pest?)

She didn't see herself doing it, but she thought she understood that way of looking at things, though it didn't quite convince her. She already had something Hilda and Dad agreed on, at least.

<I have it for emergencies, I don't think we'll use it. Did you know some people drink it?

"..." -she frowned in confusion, tilted her head, trying to understand from another perspective, she didn't succeed- "...You can drink it...?"

She would never have imagined it.

...

They reached the objective. Stuck to the wall, too far from the moths she already knew, from her home and from this world. The fluttering around her, of those small male insects, was a constant reminder of it.

And she had to kill it.

<Yes, you have to kill... Killing is good, it makes you strong.

(Kill...)

<If that thing saw you, it would hurt you without hesitation. I don't want you to get hurt, I want you to be like me. If you're scared... Don't be, because I'll be behind you, okay?

She knew it. Even though she was lost in thought, seeing every possibility, synthesizing the danger, her engine was always her. The spear that protected her was made by her, her motivation was her, and the breaths that now pushed her, in addition to her own, also came from her.

She wanted to confirm it for her. But she didn't. She was constantly talking in her mind to give herself the push she lacked.

<Remember, one hit.

She knew it.

(I have to kill it in one hit.)

She had it clear as the clearest water. She would be Ahab, aiming directly at her holy grail.

>AHAB
Propelled by his ivory leg, the captain leaped from the swaying Pequod, seagulls swarming his whale by the thousands. But then they looked like vultures anticipating a legendary death. Ahab ran with his harpoon as hard as his good leg and his obsession allowed.

It was huge. Her demon surprised her every time she faced it again. The twisted patterns tattooed on its back reminded her that even though she had the tools, nature still reigned on the wide sea.
<How...? How do you feel?

Her mouth hung open, staring at the corpse. But once she turned, her face was that neutral one as always.

"Ahab did not sink."

3/?
Catherine/Ashley Sodalite-c3ce43 No.5918 es
75fd337fa6269d7f146b44b77e1cb46f1b0346049de0cd4e6be0f1be91267816.jpg
10 KB 480×360
eb25d064588d0445c1ab3992a13126a443eb770ca5fdefd7331e5b6754376efa.jpg
31 KB 209×288
35cd0b73d7922b1b0d356dc85c2ae0245f920ebceff1faa73e2319b0cce16bbd.jpg
88 KB 1242×979
4b91fd672efc78ba3f2411b34ad96be9e0f1c8722c4d547b2749e3e0c932d990.jpg
25 KB 678×452
>>5917
>>5896
>Ahab
What?

>Ashley
sigh -closed her eyes, seeming relieved; when she opened them again, she looked normal- "I'm fine..."

She brought a hand to her back, rubbing it because it hurt, then looked at the other hand—this one hurt too. She glanced back at the girl who'd asked, and added to her answer:

"It hurts a little..." -her legs too, but she didn't think it necessary to mention that- "...but I'm fine..." -she stopped rubbing her back- "it's not the first time I've done it..." -Killed. She'd had to do it before- "but..."

Cat looked at the corpse. The spear had become one with death. Dissolved, by the acid the weapon received from her.

<Don't worry about the spear, I'll make you another when I can, twice as good.

"Hm..." -she looks at her again- "thanks..." -that would be good- "But... that broom belonged to the monkey." -maybe not the best moment, but clearly they'd destroyed a cleaning tool-

Such inconvenience was reduced to nothing by a sudden whimper. Both alert, they sharply turned to face the source of the sound. Nothing in sight. It was beyond the pink jelly. Catherine tilted her head, seeing nothing, and Hilda decided to lead the way—soon joined by the albino.

As they approached, they found within the liquid a figure from which the pink seemed to have stolen nearly all the brightness it once held. Except for the shine in those eyes, which even in pure agony preserved the full beauty of her soul—a soul that still had much ahead, even as the world gnawed at her body.

Catherine stared. Her mouth hung open, voiceless, eyes reflecting the horror at her feet.

The school of life. That idea felt unpleasant now. Dad had shown her many animal corpses, revealed their organs. She'd seen various stages of decomposition. All of this, Dad proudly reminded her, she wouldn't learn in a normal school—only in the school of life.

But she'd never seen anything like this.

Complete human destruction. The pain that consumes a person until they desperately beg for it to stop, the face of unbearable agony.

At that moment, Cat had a bad thought.

(I wish she'd died.)

She thought it, then immediately felt that what she'd thought was wrong. But after considering whether it truly was wrong, she thought maybe not. The pain she was witnessing was unfathomable, grotesque, making her feel terrible. She thought that if she were dead, it might only hurt to see her, but she could look away and carry on with sorrow.

But seeing her like this was different. She was now a woman in hellish torment, and that caused Cat something far worse than merely seeing her dead like those skeletons around her: she didn't know what to do.
to

luck,

there

was

another

sound.

An

excuse

to

look

at

something

else,

something

that

fell,

a

device

small

enough

to

fit

in

one's

hand.

It

was

a

camera.

Right

after

the

sound

of

it

dropping,

came

the

sound

of

dripping

water,

and

with

the

sound,

a

sensation.

Catherine

lifted

her

gaze

as

she

felt

the

cold

touch

of

water

against

her

skin.

Above

her,

she

found

the

culprit—

a

sprinkler.

"..."

She

looked

down

again;

the

shock

still

frozen

on

her

face.

<Ashley,

go

back

the

way

we

came

and

wait

for

me

on

the

path.

We

need

to

find

a

place

to

set

up

the

tent

before

it

rains.

Catherine

looked

up

again...

then

down

once

more.

She

said

nothing.

Did

nothing.

<I...

I

need

to

make

sure

of

something.

The

girl

stayed

a

moment

longer

in

that

spot.

She

turned

halfway

around,

and

without

words

to

even

confirm,

simply

walked

away.

The

sound

of

her

footsteps

was

all

that

reached

Hilda,

confirming

her

departure.

She

followed

the

path

as

instructed.

Went

back

to

that

bench,

where

plants

now

formed

a

barrier

like

three

doors

wide.

She

looked

up

again.

She

knew

they

were

indoors.

Knew

it

wouldn't

rain.

But

maybe

soon

she'd

hear

thunder.

sigh

Catherine

realized

she

hadn't

said

a

word

since

seeing

the

dying

woman.

Normally

she'd

have

responded

when

Hilda

spoke

to

her

directly,

but

at

that

moment,

it

never

crossed

her

mind.

(I

hope

I

didn't

upset

her...)

She

thought

that

might

have

been

very

rude—

Dad

would've

been

angry

not

getting

any

confirmation.

But

Cat

excused

herself,

blaming

the

horrific

images

before

her

for

her

loss

of

words.

When

something

fascinates

you,

or

horrifies

you,

sometimes

you're

left

speechless.

That

thought

crossed

her

mind

to

ease

the

worry

that

Hilda

might

be

upset.

(That's

what

I'll

tell

her.)

(And

I'll

explain

what

"speechless"

means.)

It

became

her

answer

to

the

possible

doubt.

And

it

wasn't

a

lie.

Death's

face

still

haunted

her

mind—

a

grisly

scene,

one

that,

like

the

night

of

Jean

Jacket,

she

might

never

forget.

But

one

she

thought

she

could

set

aside,

if

only

for

a

moment.

She

raised

her

hand,

holding

the

camera

she'd

grabbed

before

running

off,

in

a

quick,

nimble

motion—

one

Hilda

might

have

noticed

if

she'd

been

paying

closer

attention.

It

was

a

camera.

She

recognized

it

as

such

from

an

encyclopedia,

and

though

she

wasn't

sure

of

any

particular

memory,

she

thought

she'd

also

seen

one

in

a

shop

window.

What

she

was

certain

of

was

that

it

looked

different

from

the

ones

she

remembered—

except

for

the

lens,

which

betrayed

its

purpose:

taking

photos,

objects

similar

to

paintings,

but

made

with

a

single

button

and

a

flash.

(I

stole

it...)
It wasn't the first time she'd stolen, even if Hilda thought otherwise. Catherine had never been a completely good girl. She'd stolen for simple amusement, watching people search desperately for their lost belongings, convinced they'd misplaced them—or simply forgotten. She stole for the pleasure of possessing one more thing, like that time she scared a child and kept the ball they'd left behind. It was a pretty ball.

(...no...)

Cat shook her head. Her first excuse was that she'd planned to return the ball if the kid came back—which never happened. The second excuse, the one that justified everything beyond that single moment, came from her father:

(Objects are happy with us. Fulfilling a purpose.)

Dad stole. Or rather, he gave purpose to certain things, like plastic pipes from someone else's house. It was one of life's basic rules. Those pipes had sat in nothingness for so long, Dad occasionally watching them with the same focused attention Cat gave squirrels. And when it became clear their existence was abandonment, he chose to take them and give them purpose.

Cat wasn't different now. The camera had been useful once. Or maybe not very, but it was happy fulfilling a function. That wouldn't happen again—because the fingers that pressed its button would never move another inch.

(It's better.)

She put the camera away, convinced of her decision. Later, she'd show it to Hilda, and together they'd find a reason for it to exist. Now she just had to wait, and to wait for that moment, she approached the bench where the aloe leaf rested—already drained of all the aloin it once held.

(...doesn't look so bad to sit on now...)

She really wanted a seat at that moment, and she would've taken it despite the greenish mess, if not for the fresh puddle left by the aloe.

Catherine sighed.

(I'll wait...)

And she picked up the leaf...

...

"Mhm~🎶"

Strangely, Catherine hummed as she finished preparing something. The comfort she felt around Hilda had become incomparable. Her voice was as sweet as a canary's song in the morning, matching the tenderness of the melody about peaches she was singing—a nostalgic tune she'd soon share with Hilda.

"Mhmhm~"

She let a drop of aloe gel—already placed on a beautiful plate (now ruined by the experiment)—fall onto the veins of her wrist. She rubbed it in carefully, a smile creeping onto her lips. It felt incredibly refreshing, with no irritation at all. She thought Hilda's skin might have tolerated the plant's insides, aloin and all, but she preferred not to take risks.
Returned to the room, ready for the movie, jumped onto the bed behind Hilda and wrapped her legs around her. Before Hilda could utter a word, Cat's hands reached around from behind, grabbing those cheeks she loved so much, now slick with cooling gel.

"Look at this."

She said, making it clear this wasn't just a silly joke, and proceeded to smear the refreshing gel all over Hilda's face until it formed a moisturizing mask. Once done, she let go and waited for her to turn around. Cat couldn't help but giggle.

"You've got a green face."

She pointed out what amused her.

"Do you like it?"

She asked happily, hoping that even if skincare wasn't something Hilda actively sought, she'd at least enjoy the refreshing sensation of the natural product. Catherine enjoyed it on her own skin, at least.

After that, it was just a matter of finally enjoying the movie they'd picked. At first, Catherine was genuinely amazed by the special effects, but soon her attention began to drift.

At one point, she found herself hugging Hilda, missing the best parts of the film but not missing Hilda's reactions at all. She loved seeing her so engrossed in the on-screen punches, or the monsters so realistic that Catherine imagined they could easily exist here as "entities." She loved catching that sparkle in her eyes, sharing it with her own as they glanced at each other.

The albino ended up doing silly things at random moments. She grabbed Hilda's arm with her mouth, giving it a soft bite muffled by her lips. Another time, she hugged her hair, sniffed it, and rubbed her chin against it with the same affection Hilda had often shown hers. Then, she rolled across the bed, moving closer to Hilda like that, looking up at her from below, Cat's hair now dangling down to the floor. And both of them looked happy. Until the one with the random idea was the blue-haired girl.

<if you'd want to go look for living skeletons and cyclopes with me.

"¡!"

Cat wasn't in the middle of being silly. It came out of nowhere, during a perfectly normal moment while both were sitting like anyone simply trying to enjoy a movie. Catherine's eyes widened for a second—clearly taken aback, a reaction she couldn't hide behind her neutral expression.

"..." —she slowly lowered her eyelids back to their natural position, recomposing herself to answer properly. It must have taken her at least two seconds, though they felt longer— "...if we could..."

She didn't want to give a firm yes, even though she wished she could. Lying hurt... lying to Hilda hurt. She could lie to anyone, even to herself. But when she lied to Hilda... her heart filled with deep sadness.

"...if it's ever possible... I'd love to..."

Another thing she wasn't drawn to... but she'd love to go with her.

If only she could.

4/?
Catherine/Ashley Sodalite-c3ce43 No.5919 es
49a700f06b4f667490a089b9ac1d79104d333ea19c1257e6112dce670a14858e.jpg
27 KB 447×447
44e56d1245d06d403f7e97d5b0e888435af0b3679373f5e1ab81d2f68c395533.jpg
549 KB 1200×1200
44c3c474f7c4729efa2097a74d434d710713c8a0c51f35ad043a05164d6954ab.jpg
137 KB 640×640
274d80b379102a306359b85bf08df2b3ab16a97f5a487c35a0a00f62fd74630f.jpg
48 KB 300×300
5ee9aeaeaee0b0169763dc5bbc66b4cebb6d0138038ac6d31e78aeb4062205a7.jpg
14 KB 316×316
>>5897
>Ashley
(I wish I could...)

It was one of her last memories from that beloved outing. So painful. What she thought was that there were more mixed feelings than ever, and that the most beautiful moments were balanced with others of great mental burden.

(Bittersweet.)

She thought, to give her memory a taste. Although it ended on that bitter note. The way back was a constant question for her: 'If I disappear, will it be okay?'. It was fair to ask it, trying to enjoy that outing to the fullest was to make her goodbye count. But she didn't reach a conclusion that day, nor today.

She sighed again. Catherine wasn't one to show anything, but when her soul wanted to escape like that, she couldn't hold it back. The glass fogged slightly with her breath, and then she pulled away from it, tired of an introspection that led nowhere.

Today was an important day. The appointment with the doctor was scheduled for later. Killing time until it arrived was all she had left, she really needed a distraction after her conversation with Hilda.

>Catherine (a while ago)
"..."

Her mouth looked like a fish out of water. It was a constant struggle to sculpt a word that never came.

Her initial plan was horrible. She had thought of saying very bad things to Hilda, of lying more than ever, confessing that she supposedly didn't love her anymore. That they shouldn't love each other.

That plan was stupid. She knew it, but she thought that maybe then she wouldn't miss her even if she died painfully afterward. On paper, it was the best safety net, but in practice, there, saying such a thing was impossible for her. She wished for a moment that a certain potion from a certain book existed, so she could be very mean, but that was fantasy.

"Nothing..."

She finally told her, justifying having called her separately to explain the reason for her appointment with the doctor.

(Weak...)

She told herself, head down. But before Hilda left the room, she quickly raised her head.

"Hilda..."

Calling her one more time. Once she stopped, Catherine closed the distance Hilda had made, returning to a distance worthy of two people in love talking. The American looked uncomfortable, as never before, her hands at her sides moved slightly, rising a little as if they wanted to do something without knowing what, and her eyebrows were raised in the sadness of someone who foresees bad news. She couldn't look Hilda in the eyes for long, so she lowered her gaze, only for her eyes to be forcibly bounced back, as her father would be angry if she didn't speak to her properly.

"Look for me after I talk to the doctor. I'll tell you something..."

It was all she said. For Hilda, it was just another promise to her that she would surely have kept even if she hadn't asked, as they had gone everywhere as if they were constantly playing a three-legged race. But for Catherine, it was something more, a decision. She was forcing herself to confess what had been happening to her, no matter what Julia was going to tell her later.

...

>Ashley (present)
It was a day of moments that felt definitive. The time she was about to spend was both an attempt to kill time and an attempt to prepare herself to face what was coming.

She decided to spend some time in Charmy's office, with her, who would be her tutor for a few moments. During her stay, she had discovered that she liked the place because of the amount of things there were to look at.

"I kept a camera." -she mentioned while looking around the place-
This she had told Hilda on previous days, so they had to decide between them what to do with such a device. If it were a secret, Cat wouldn't have mentioned the above, but if it weren't, there was the confession.

"What is that?" -it was a record player- "record player... Does it work to play records?"

She reduced it to the most obvious, confused as to why a machine would be necessary for such a simple task.

"I can play them myself."

But such an object went beyond just playing. Catherine probably received an explanation, as she would need it.

"Where are they?"

She looked wherever they pointed. And she approached the collection of albums that adorned the place, Catherine became as curious as a cat once she discovered such a diversity of boxes. They were all covers, but they all possessed beautiful drawings of an enormous size. Like a Marie Deathmoth to the Light, she couldn't help but hover over the various packages and examine them, stopping from time to time at some pretty drawing or another.

The first one that caught her attention was the one that stood out for being voluminous rather than beautiful. Catherine looked at it curiously, and took it with both hands, lifting it. It was a cover with different shades of green, with the image of a gentleman from yesteryear in the upper right corner. The words written she didn't understand, they were in Spanish, but her interest came from the particular shape of the box, which broke with the square shape of its companions. Curving, becoming pointed, or flattening depending on the side. It seemed designed not to fit anywhere. It was surprising. Artaud

"Wow..." -she gave it the reaction it deserved-

Catherine leaned it against other records, and looked at others. Soon she found a drawing of those you couldn't ignore. A majestic elephant in a forest. The night looked cold, but it mattered little, as the good-natured giant kept her warm with that bonfire fanned by his trunk like bellows The Glow Pt. 2

"Little elephant..."

She left that one, and moved to the next. A man looked at the sky in a red landscape like a painting, or taken from a painting that was about to be erased. That's what Catherine thought, that it was paint, because this same red color was seen superimposed on the man's bare chest. The girl narrowed her eyes suspiciously. She wasn't sure if he really had that painted on his chest or not. I let love in

"..." -she gave a scrutinizing look- "I don't like it." -clear example that it's wrong to judge a book by its cover-

She left this one and picked up another. Upon lifting it, she opened her eyes in surprise. She was greeted by the face of a... thing. She couldn't tell what it was, some kind of animal lurking in the deepest darkness. But it wasn't any animal she recognized. It was as if something about it was very wrong. She put it down quickly, she didn't want to keep looking into those eyes of the night. The Seer

"..." -she blinked a little-

Not knowing what to say about it, and not having found anything that caught her attention yet, she picked up one more. Thus lifting a most normal cover. A drawing, an almost childish drawing. Lookaftering

"Little hare..."

She recognized it well. It was a hare, not a rabbit. Those legs didn't fool anyone. Catherine looked at Charmy with this album in her hands and confessed:

"I want to listen to this one." -that image connected with her-

Cat stood up, walked a bit to Charmy, showing him the record more closely. Holding it with both hands as you would a book open, to show the other some particular pages.

"Can we play it?"

I'd like to develop the scene of listening to the record after your response, to give it space and let it breathe on its own keksito

5/7 confirmed
Catherine/Ashley Sodalite-c3ce43 No.5920 es
553cfbc2fcd971279ccf62acf7477082c2246dec83053c42f650feec4e08c8a3.jpg
1.21 MB 2008×2717
71a7926599a80eb05bd8d5b20b277378b4010edf9a0ec1164617c48483e21e53.jpg
230 KB 702×794
>>5897
>Ashley
Later, the girl found herself sitting in a chair, already waiting for the time that, according to Charmy, was getting closer and closer.

To pass the last moments, she waited by the door. A certain song had been stuck in her head for a while, but she didn't want to think about it yet, so she ended up picking up a small book that looked cute from its cover and letting it steal her attention for a bit.

The story was very short, and the little rooster so tenderly drawn to sell the work was a very important character. The pages, yellowish and perfumed by the antiquity of the paper, went by quickly, giving way to an ending that left the girl with a grimace of sadness.

She turned the last page and looked at the back cover, as if expecting more. But all she found was the certainty that the short novel had left her sad and full of uncertainty. That story showed a very fitting parallel with her that touched something in her heart or near it in a way that hurt.

She looked at the door. The one through which the doctor would soon arrive, and she couldn't help but compare herself to the protagonist in her wait. But with the key difference of hope. Catherine expected the worst. She realized at that moment that all this time she hadn't had hope. That she assumed whatever the doctor was going to say would greatly harm her and Hilda as well.

Catherine puffed out her chest like a turkey showing off its feathers. At first, she seemed to want to channel the colonel's energy... but she let out the air with another sigh, returning to her shy reality.

(I wish I could have more hope...)

...

A while later, there was a knock at the door. Cat seemed to startle, as if that tapping was her cue to exist. She quickly looked at Charmy, who was glancing outside before giving her the signal. The girl went down and ran, with the clumsiness of being unaccustomed to the coat, to the door to open it quickly. It was an inverted slam, but to the wind, just a slam that it used to burst into the house, almost breaking Cat's nose, who proceeded to hold it with her whole body and push it with her shoulder to return it where it belonged.

(Perfect.)
Catherine nodded to herself, acknowledging her own good work before turning and finding the only person this visitor could possibly be.

"You're right on time." -or rather, shortly after Charmy announced she'd be arriving soon. Such a thing deserves recognition-

<Hello, darling. Do you remember me?

Cat responded with a nod and nothing more. It would be difficult to forget that first day, and she was a big part of that first day.

<I've been told you've made new friends.

(Not true...)

She kept that to herself. She didn't need to receive a response like that. For Cat, her only real connection has been Hilda.

(...people...)

She had an echo of her blue child's words. The one where she said perhaps people were worth as much as a pretty place. Catherine dismissed the idea of meeting more people at that moment, the idea of meeting more people was difficult for her. That was perhaps more the Catherine who stayed in Oregon than the one standing before Julia now.

An intrusive thought sprang like a spring in her brain: 'Won't I regret this?'

(No.) -she denied the idea as soon as she could- (everything was as it should have been.)

And so she tried to calm herself, knowing those words were somewhat hollow, but also knowing she couldn't do any more to change them now.

<I hope you also discovered some music you like.

"..." -she looked up, derailing her train of thought, she was surprised, feeling as if she had guessed what had happened only a few hours ago-

(That doesn't make sense...)

But she didn't allow herself to think something so silly. And those raised boxes and her little mouth turned into a smooth circle, returned to their original position. Neutral for a second, then almost uncomfortable with her eyebrows lowering to squint her eyes, which went to the side and down, fleeing those scrutinizing eyes.

"...yes..."

She responded almost listlessly. The song that had been burned into her mind for a while now seemed beautiful to her, as if from a fairy tale. One of those she used to read and share with dad on nights when her whole world seemed to be made of joy. When she was happy.
But at the same time, it filled her with enormous sadness. Not just laden with nostalgia, but because she had put into melody what she planned to tell Hilda, stealing from Dad that idea of quoting lines from books and incorporating them into real life, as if Cat didn't know that one thing or another was thought up by someone else. Someone who didn't really exist.

Hilda wouldn't know. Maybe Cat would tell her, but otherwise, she wouldn't know. That wouldn't matter much. What the girl was looking for was simply to verbalize what she feared most in case this went wrong.

The three of them went to a more private place. The basement.

(The opposite of the attic.)

That's right. Cat sat in the chair they designated for her.

(It's cold.)

She thought she'd prefer a less cold one, but soon that thought was replaced by another confirming that she didn't care. Julia approached her and looked into her huge eyes. Catherine was as cooperative as possible, even though she didn't want to be. Allowing her head to be manipulated so the flashlight had better access to her sea of green. Her pupils contracted and her eyelids narrowed at the hand holding them open uncomfortably.

<Tell me everything you can about your episodes. The more detailed you are, the better.

"Everything..." -she repeated, trying to synthesize the magnitude of such a request-

The doctor put down the flashlight. Cat blinked several times, hoping that would be enough to calm her sensitive eyes. It turns out she's a girl very accustomed to nightlife, in the literal sense, meaning she enjoyed moving around the woods at night. Not jumping between bars, especially when the only one she'd been to exploded.

They give her a little tap. Catherine kicks her leg. Looking at her leg, she made a face of worried surprise she couldn't help, her eyebrows arched and her lips slightly parted, revealing a glimpse of her white teeth. Then she looked at Julia with the same expression.

"I didn't do that...!"

She sounded as if she had just failed at something and had to justify herself. Her back was slightly raised, as if the fright, impatience, or nerves wanted to tear her from the chair.

<Depending on what you tell me, I'll be able to infer whether what's affecting you is psychological... Or a material and physical phenomenon.

"..." -she shrank back in her seat-
That was what she most wanted to know... And, once again, returning her face to its normal, expressionless state, she remembered her greatest fear: that she didn't know which of the two options was actually worse.

They asked her to say 'ah'.

"Ah."

It was short and literal. Julia had to explain a bit more to get to the:

"Ahhhhhh"

She saw herself in another world as they put a popsicle stick in her mouth. With her gaze lost on the wall visible to the side of the doctor, she doesn't remember thinking anything in particular, but she was surely thinking about everything. Julia seemed blurry, as if the wall were the most important thing in her vision. Then the examination stopped.

<On a superficial level, I don't perceive anything out of place beyond some particularly prominent canines. For now, I'll rule out vampirism.

"..."

(That's fantasy.)

Dracula... She had seen Bigfoot, and it was very curious, but vampires still sounded like fantasy to her. She, clearly, wasn't one. Otherwise, she would know. That's what she thought. Her canines were just like that, they had to be, for biting. Although it was a bit strange. Dad's were normal. She always thought it was because maybe hers were like Mom's, Dad always said Cat looked a lot like her mother. Just like her, but small...

Then Julia reaches for a sandwich.

(Clearly not food.)

In its classic flavor vs. food battle, this thing was the most 'flavor' of all flavors. More than Tarzan's Flavor, which was called that.

(Heh.)

The corners of her lips curved upward for a second from the inside joke. Then they quickly returned to their place, remembering that she wanted to keep her face neutral. Anyway, the point was that that sandwich wasn't food. Her little nose twitched a bit from the overload of aromas, but she got used to it easily and quickly.

The combination struck her as extremely strange. Meat and banana combined was odd to her. But she didn't judge it; if Cat got really hungry, she would have devoured it too. Even if Dad would never have allowed her to even touch food that looked so unhealthy with a stick.

<I didn't have time to eat dinner during the trip. Do you mind if I eat while we talk? It's an Elvis. If you'd like, I can offer you some.

"No."

That answer was for both, the question and the offer.

Now, all that remained was to answer...

6/7 SIX SEEVEEEEN
Marisa+8 Grandidierite-c9e9ec No.5921 es
6021f92d82fcbf37e97515970a6cf4d9607db901903a768a6c90ac273fe4b64f.jpg
45 KB 390×280
>>5904
>But it also means that victory or defeat will be the responsibility of all of humanity. Aren't you scared of what they'll put on our epitaph?

"What they'll put on my tombstone?" He doesn't understand the other word. "No. I am scared of dying, but not of thinking about how I'm going to die. I'll surely be more scared when the worm is already on top of us."

Imagining a hideous bug is coming to kill him is like reading a creepypasta. At most, he'll think a fat worm promoting peace and love is a silly monster and believe it's one of those parodies. It's when he has something like that in front of him and truly threatening his life that he starts to feel fear.

>Are you sure? Giordano told the truth, he defended that the Earth revolves around the sun, and they threw him in the fire. Sometimes people can't live with the truth. The man I came from fought with it every day.

"It's also not certain they'll give me anything important to do just because I'm older than I look. I'm still not an Action Man, or a G.I. Joe, or at least a Rambo."

He stands on the stool to look again at his unimpressive physique, searching for a flabby or fleshy spot to pinch to highlight, of which he probably has several due to his sedentary life in recent weeks.

"The other thing I was thinking of was looking for those white native girls. It seemed like they already knew I wasn't a child and they gave me the bow. But Tom was the one who knew where they were... And well..."

He sits back down with his head bowed. Tom is like his first or second role model in the storage rooms, a strong and good guy who survived many things, except Bill.

"If the man you came from was a liar, then all the more reason not to be one. I don't know if it was the same guy I met, but I disliked him from the start. People like that are better off going to the..." He gets too emotional and almost swears at the table, it takes him a few moments to calm down and he pretends to pass them with a spoonful of the food he has left. "May they go to hell. If someone is a bad influence, you can stop hanging out with them, even if they're family."

>Okay, okay! I won't sell it... For now. But I can't give it back to you either, many of its parts are soaked in fuel, it's very flammable.

"M-mm." He nods. "Tom-toma..."
The emotions he was trying to contain as an unflappable male are of great help when he needs to act like a crying little girl and manages to save Flametower from being sold, but it works too well and he has a hard time talking or breathing properly for a while, so he just asks Alondra to open her hand to give him the trinkets he picked up after landing, to see if they help with the repair.

After that, he turns around and zips up his coat to cover as much of his face as possible out of shame. Luckily, no one else he knows pays attention to his humiliation.

>The fly came out of here.

"Mm?" He covers his nose "From your finger?" He crosses his eyes to look at the finger in front of his nose and any holes it might have.

>I pricked something wet, what do you think it is?

"Something dead?" It smells like that to him "Some things release a lot of juices when they've been dead for a while and flies like those things."

>>5905
"Good morning." He says to Flametower, and it is, because it's dawning dry, which for him is a victory.

He looks at the men left in the village working outside and yawns, reconsidering again about working even though no one is demanding it. The chewed-up blanket he got out of bed even sounds cozy after feeling the aches from the night before. He's about to fall asleep standing up when something suddenly touches his shoulder.

>Wet it with milk.

"Eeek!" He squeaks again but plays it tough and just watches Charli until he receives the stale bread "Thanks..." He bites the bread without paying attention and checks how hard it is, this, too, he tries to ignore to maintain appearances "Good morning."

After breakfast, he accompanies Charli to deal with a problem he can completely empathize with.

"I never knew why girls always went to the bathroom together. I thought it was to gossip more than to pee, but not that they did both things at the same time." He speaks from outside the bathroom as Charli asked, leaning his back and the sole of a shoe against the wall with a hard look as if he were a bouncer outside a club "My grandma always said only crazy people talked to themselves, I didn't understand how videos or the internet worked and she'd scold me when she saw me recording myself with my phone. I still recorded more when I was out of the house, in some abandoned place. I stopped recording videos because no one watched them and I didn't want someone who was in those places to hear me."
He doesn't regret his failed career as an influencer, content creator, urban explorer, or whatever it was, really, it's obvious nobody succeeds with that stuff, it doesn't bother him at all to fail. After all, exploring dangerous places at night is something you do for the love of it, or out of hatred for your family and as an excuse to spend less time at home with them... Although if getting another, more masculine body doesn't work out but escaping from storage rooms does, maybe he'll get more views just with the face he already has.

"Hey... Do you do anything specific with your hair or is that magic too? Instead of combing it, I just put on a cap and that was it." He still misses her "But if I'm going to be in this body for a long time, maybe-"

The door suddenly opens and he jumps in surprise.

>I'm as good as new. Let's go back.

"Mm..." He points to his shoe "You've got... something on there."

Outside, they recognize Alondra's new car, although 'new' isn't the right word.

>Do you like it? It's a loan from the local government. Its previous owner was torn to shreds by the ice zombies, I doubt they'll want it back...

"Yes!" He almost jumps into the car with excitement, although the space doesn't allow it.

It's very strange for him to be able to travel by car, not even by taxi, for the car to belong to someone he knows is hard to believe, he doesn't care much if it's an old or used car, as long as it works.

"Does the government give loans just like that to anyone who asks or are you someone important in town? It seemed strange to see you last night with the mayor on... that stage."

Halfway there, they stop so he can see again how Alondra's giant robot ended up and wonder how a single guy with a whip and a revolver did that without even being touched by one of those heavy weapons.

"Did you also kill someone last night?" Alondra will know better than anyone, it's best to ask her directly. He's not going to believe that such a large war machine shot peace and love, unless they were the kind the town sheriff always carried on her shoulder.

>Do you see those guys working on top of the palisade?

"If I didn't see them, I shouldn't even have a bow." He squints to see if he recognizes any of them, which is difficult because he only knew about 4 people from the BNTG by sight, although the fact that they are still here after having finished providing reinforcements last night is a good thing, and that there are more than a handful is even better.
>In the cold air, the final wave is smelled and awaited. If you were old enough to know video games, the closest analogy would be preparing to play Left or Dead 7 in real life.

"Do you have to be old to know games?" He doesn't understand, in all the stores they always sold him any game regardless of the number on the ESRB cover. "In Plants versus Zombies there were waves too." He doesn't know the other game, while he remembers how easy it was to pirate and install even on school computers.

After the town was almost taken over by unknown mercenaries, assuming that's what happened, having strangers wandering around the town again doesn't make him trust them either, but surely it won't happen again. He gets to work, until someone else calls him.

>A lemonade, please.

"F-flametower, the lemonade!" He shouts almost immediately out of nervous reflex, not wanting to lose a customer, but the robot he's shouting at isn't making lemonade, it's in a backpack.

>Artemis.

"What did you call me?" Genuinely confused.

>No, no. Your bow. You're like Artemis now. That's cool.

"Ah." He stands tall, proud. "I don't know her." He puts his finger on his chin and starts thinking. "Hmm... There was a guy in The Walking Dead with a bow too. Darryl, I think it was, or Dale. I don't know, that series had like 10 seasons and I stopped watching it. But he was cool too, he used arrows to shoot zombies without making more noise and attracting more zombies."

He takes the arrow Dora extends to him and puts it away, his hand trembling, not knowing if he even has lemonade to give her. He looks around nervously, looking for an excuse to stall for time among the rubble of his house or a glass of lemonade conveniently placed somewhere.

"Uhh... Were you here last night too? The kids around here are really tough, huh... Want to see it?" He offers her the bow to entertain herself while he runs off to find lemonade somewhere. "I'll be right back... Alondra! Do we have lemonade!?"
I think you also left me a bit more luck than I should have had, I used 1 in the fight and only leveled up 1 with experience.
Catherine/Ashley Sodalite-c3ce43 No.5922 es
0dc3fdfa20ef53689adc5407be47ec9aafc390673de81e2ae91dbd9a7026bcf6.jpg
28 KB 303×366
b684fbfc02735a1f18d31e7f14e001d87eb7e8a3f6a46d9e69e45a8318a1bd1c.png
248 KB 622×546
>>5897
>Ashley
...and she stayed like that. Sitting there with a blank expression for a while.

She was in one of those situations again—ones she never got used to. An interrogation. Getting information out of Cat was, as always, a small test of endurance. Though maybe "patience" was the more appropriate word.

To begin with... well, the girl didn't know where to start. One would say "from the beginning," and she thought that herself, but floating in the air was also the question of whether she even wanted to start, even though she was the one who agreed to the conversation. Also, how to start. Questions piled up, and though they were the most basic ones, in situations like this they became the heaviest and hardest to answer.

Almost instinctively, Cat's gaze drifted away, eventually landing on Charmy, who was comfortably sitting in her box. The girl's expression said nothing, but her inaction spoke for itself. She spent a few moments using her blank face to silently convey her wish that the woman would speak for her. Charmy did know quite a bit about the story after all, though it would be inappropriate for someone else to take the lead in the orchestra she herself had assembled.

Realizing her attempt had failed, her face continued avoiding Julia, but now also Charmy. She looked here, there, and though the basement had few things of interest—especially compared to the leader's office—that wasn't really the point; the point was to buy some time.

"Aren't you going to auscultate me?"

She asked. That was a word she never used, and she knew it. She wouldn't have used it in other contexts, beyond the obvious reason, because it was one of those words she discarded the moment she learned it. Like "subreption," even though it fit her life perfectly, or "garrulous," because that sounded strange to her, and besides, it was the opposite of the quiet and reserved Catherine.

"..." —she looked back at Julia— "Why do you combine them?" —more precisely, she was looking at the sandwich— "meat and banana." —it sounded strange— "it looks unhealthy. But bananas are healthy. Do they cancel out the lack of nutrition?"

That was one way to see it.

"Is it bittersweet?" —like her memories?—

...finally, she looked her in the eyes.

"...I kept... a camera..." —another random piece of information— "..." —she sighed, curling up slightly in her seat; since those days in level 5, she could no longer hide her feelings like before—

The sigh made her lower her head for a moment. When she lifted it again, her eyebrows were slightly drooped, weighed down by sadness.

"I'll tell you... everything."

And so she did:

"The first thing that happened was a long time ago. Many days."

"I don't know about the second... during those days I couldn't sleep... The days... I couldn't tell them apart."

"..." —such a confession deserved a pause; she looked at the floor for a moment, but forced herself to raise her head again— "that doesn't matter." —more or less— "it happened out of nowhere... it was at night..." —she looked at the doctor with the seriousness trauma demands— "everything stopped... everything. Only I... I could move."

She raised her hand, placing a palm into the air to express what came next.

"And the air... in front of me..." —she stared at the space before her palm, at the distance where the phenomenon had appeared that night— "it cracked... like glass... and... something... something looked at me... it was..." —she suddenly closed her eyes, bringing her hand to her head, grimacing— "ow..."
It happened again. And it would keep happening. Remembering that thing made her head hurt—a headache like when you drink something icy too fast. Fleeting, but sharp, like a slap to the brain.

Without removing her hand from her forehead, she looked at Julia, the same worry she felt mirrored on the doctor’s face.

"It hurt so much to see it... it... it hurt my head..." She shook her head slightly. "It hurts," she corrected herself. "If I remember... it hurts."

She managed to lower her hand. Once that was settled, and once Cat stopped staring at her shoes like she was waiting for a terrible scolding, she lifted her gaze slightly, looking up at the doctor from below.

"...other things happened after... recently..."

No one knew this. Not even Charmy... not Hilda. This was new.

"When I was in the urban level with Hilda..."—the 5—"and we were eating... something strange happened..."

She didn’t know how to begin. Again. But she forced herself not to deflect, though obeying her own command took at least half a minute—unless she was rushed, which might’ve backfired.

"...I... I don’t know how... but I saw myself... I saw myself trapped. By some... clothing..."—she hugged herself, mimicking the grip of a straitjacket—"by clothes that wouldn’t let me move... I couldn’t move at all... it was... it was horrible..."—she leaned slightly forward, giving herself the look of a disturbed child that her story had been missing—

"And... and... I was... locked inside a night. It was raining... there was a storm. And someone was talking to me... a doctor... Doctor... Kraepelin..."—she recalled as the details came back—"he was telling me..."—and she raised her eyes, wide open, to quote—"...You must come back to us... you have to return... to the real world..."

She looked down again. The floor seemed like the best place to gather her thoughts. That scene terrified her more than any monster ever could. She’d felt trapped, lost, distant. Like losing everything in the blink of an eye.

"I didn’t want that... I didn’t want it... and... when it ended... I was just back at the table. Like... nothing had happened..."

...it took her a moment to compose herself. But she realized that having her own arms wrapped around her was the most comfortable way to finish talking.

"Also... I saw a basket..."

She’d wanted to talk about that with Hilda, but distractions made it impossible. She lifted her gaze, now with her usual calm back on her face.

"Do babies go in baskets?"

That question she’d practiced earlier that day, and had finally managed to ask.

"I saw a woman giving a basket to a monkey... and... I also saw a baby’s hand... same day."—the day of the other vision, she means—"I don’t know if I imagined it... dad..."—she stopped hugging herself, realizing she’d said too much, placed her hands on the chair, and her eyes drifted to the wall parallel to Charmy—"dad used to see things sometimes..."—she confessed outright, figuring Julia wouldn’t just drop the question—

It took her another second to look back. She met the doctor’s gaze with all the seriousness her blank expression could convey. And she confessed the last strange thing that had unsettled her:

"I also felt a strange tingling in my vagina."

7/7

>>5912
>someone give me a funny image
This:
Otaku Spodumene-54446c No.6706 es
cf564b5f04b9a53fc2228fe8b97fadcadcce278126a470388733bf6ed5010f5f.png
3 KB 348×227
spoiler
14 KB 250×240 spoiler
>>5914
>Irene

...

The magic mare explains her powers concentrated in her equine hips.

"Ehhh...I guess?" After cow explanations, Irene understands better "Ohhh, like telekinesis?" The problem was that the bus had to be destroyed like the one they found outside "Oh...well"

Irene stays quiet, weighing the situation.

"We'll discuss it tomorrow"

Things don't get better the next day.

"Hey!, there's no reason to insult her, Hank" Says Irene, although the discussion doesn't progress much, the option was risky and nobody wanted to abandon anyone, the girls were in the bus and...

Irene's eyes suddenly open wide, noticing the anomaly, something was wrong. She stands up and asks Francine, seeing that both were back facing away from the bus.

"Francine...how many people did we start with on the bus when we left the city?" She wanted a headcount, and she knew the woman would know names and faces better than her "How many people did we lose?" She wanted to keep track properly. With a >, she makes silence before saying the following "So, now we would be me, Claus, the Smiler, you, Hank, his daughter, Sue, Heather, the baby, Nad and Rosy, am I wrong?" Again, she wanted confirmation to not sound like a crazy person "If that's the case...who is Martha?"

She didn't have a very close relationship with the people in the god group, they lost Leon, Marco, Birds, the puppet boy, but keeping track herself, that last name of the person in the bus didn't compute.

"Hank, call your daughter outside, and have her bring Sue" She was already preparing for the possibility, trying to keep her voice low while continuing to ask Francine "What would be the chances of someone sneaking into the group without us noticing?" In terms of knowledge about entities, she trusted these wanderers more

even when I noticed it, I feel bad for going back to check and see if it was wrong or not, kek
Rolero Stibnite-2c27db No.6707 es
f72e0d2f900aa955d39211f5053893428fbd7adda2d4dbd8eb85d5084407511c.webp
148 KB 640×853
20d71abf977101e3c917188be852365b0e3ca123fd2fee0ace474972b56984a9.jpg
118 KB 976×549
1ff677ad54e23a5b60395e3279b98b6d03e208ef89e1713cbab02818875bb993.jpg
144 KB 1015×1200
>>5913
<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, Hour 11)
HP: 67/100
Energy: 42/50
Hunger: 16/20 - Thirst: 16/20
-Strength: 14
-Agility: 13 - 5 Watered Hazmat Suit V2
-Endurance: 14 + 10 Watered Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 3
Inventory
-Pockets 2/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Magnum Revolver (0/6. Damage x3, Priority +2)
Abilities:
Werewolf (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.

In the Frontrooms
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LeILSPhyExwThe artist lights up a peculiar, metallic device, from which he inhales a sweetened vapor. His eyes under the sunglasses focus on the styrofoam sphere. A group of strangers surrounds them, saying nothing, just listening and nodding occasionally, attentive to the conversation.

Coco: Haven't you considered that the problem might be you? Your lack of imagination, of desire. Try looking at it from another angle... like this, from the side, tilted, so it looks more imposing. It's far from the real thing, but hardly anyone is brave enough to face true immensity. My original idea was to stuff a blue whale, but there wasn't enough space, nor enough state funding. It's a dark age for avant-garde art.

After leaving the gallery, you are overcome with joy, you take a deep breath of that air of normalcy, and look for a bench to rest in full contentment (-10 HP). The deceptively soft-looking concrete pounds your body. But that doesn't dampen your joy. You stand up, shout, cry, and snot gets into your mouth. Passersby make sure to keep a safe distance from you.

You look for a public telephone. You find an available booth, spray-painted with graffiti like a whore abused by a crowd. Someone left a volume of Condorito on the phone. When you pick up the receiver and hold it near your ear, you only hear silence, pressing the buttons produces no sound, and you doubt a coin would fix things. You also suspect the puddle at your feet isn't old water...

You return to the gallery and locate the man from before surrounded by his fans, who are asking him about Immensity and his muses. You have to wait for them to disperse before approaching him and asking to borrow his cell phone for a moment to make a call. He takes another puff from his vape.
Coco: Better not. I have a feeling you can't be trusted. Be honest, how many did you abandon?

After that curt rejection, there's no choice but to walk to Daniel's house. You rack your brain and start to navigate the streets and avenues. Unlike the backrooms, the constant stimuli make exploring twice as exhausting. An abortion choreography blocked your path and forced you to linger; the way they drop naked toys tied with nylons from their waists to the ground is almost hypnotic.

There are fewer peddlers than before, and some police officers stop you to ask if you were carrying construction materials. They caught you, almost patted down your pistol, but a radio alert about a lunatic hijacking a commercial plane and crashing it into his parents' house causes them to lose interest in you and rush to do their duty.

After all those details, you reach Villa 31. With its block houses, colorful, superimposed, piled up, battling each other, and barred balconies from which you are watched with distrust. You see a bakery you used to frequent, but the sign sticking out indicates it has become a free and popular clinic, run by a slum priest named Carlos. You could try to sell the pills; anyway, with your illness, you weren't going to last long, although since you returned from the future, you haven't checked if your holes are worse.

You go down a very narrow alley; you have to turn sideways to let other pedestrians pass. You cross by a pile of old, wet cardboard boxes; one catches your attention because drowned puppies are floating inside. You climb a staircase and are relieved to see the door of a house open and spot pieces of hair on the floor. Simon is still in the hairdressing business; some things never change. You peek inside... A woman is cutting a boy's hair, though her features seem powerfully familiar to you.

Daniel. You remember your objective. You keep climbing and reach a metal door. You just have to knock, and while you're at it, think about what to do with your life. What was the last thing you remember before falling into the backrooms, what was the date before you got lost in liminality?
Rolero Tsavorite-9b2295 No.6913 es
1749ac747de4ba631006aa8d4a77f7489f784ed3475cb30a30dfe63533b9316e.png
712 KB 1400×1400
Sorry for the delay. These last few days have been complicated for me. Starting Monday, I will try to respond to everyone as soon as possible.
Palacios Boulder Opal-9740b7 No.6914 es
fa55d64d5e045b0fbe3bcddcfe79c8ad78e5f89e53275d375200fb584e2d37e9.jpg
457 KB 1350×1012
>>6707

"I don't know what you expect either, dude, it's Latam"

He says, half-laughing, to the artist with an ego so inflated he thinks they're actually going to give him that much money for something so trivial. Leaving him behind, he starts exploring, coming across a bench harder than a bitch's cunt. Nothing to be surprised about, anti-homeless architecture has been a thing for years. Besides, with all the bruises and stuff he must have, it's normal that it hurts, which reminds him, wasn't he sick? He had pills for that, maybe if he takes one it'll help a bit.

He takes a couple of laps around the pharmacies to see if they can get him more and what the price is. He already knows it's going to cost an arm and a leg, but whatever, he'll worry about the money later. Now the thing was to find a phone, which he does. It's all covered in graffiti, piss, and a probably dead chick. Normal stuff, it's Latam, more than Mexico, it's Latam, but still Latam.

"Queti, worry about your own life, dude, and don't come here playing soldier for people you don't even know"

He replies with all the bad vibes and a sour face possible. Whatever happened in the backrooms stays in the backrooms, he's not going to dwell on the topic or pretend to cry over things that should have been clear by now that he doesn't give a shit about. His life is his and others' is theirs, let everyone take care of themselves however they want. For Martín, "taking care of himself" means continuing to live without thinking too much about what happened or what he did.

"Oh, and acting all high and mighty because others supposedly don't understand your 'art' is for a complete idiot. If you can't explain yourself, then it's your fault, not theirs"

Before leaving, he takes the opportunity to curse out the artistic vision of the asshole who wouldn't lend him the phone. He considered transforming and tearing everything down just to mess with him, but he'd better save that in case he has to go out and steal. Given the circumstances, he can't rule out having to do it depending on how the house ended up.
Since he doesn't even have money for a taxi, he has to walk a good couple of hours to get home. The police stop him halfway, which is not that strange given how he's dressed. The only odd thing about all this is not recognizing their faces; it seems they got rid of the others while he was gone.

"The railing, how I missed the railing of this place"

He takes a second to deeply inhale the smell of burnt tires and stagnant water. He ends up coughing for a couple of minutes, having lost the habit, but once that's done, he keeps walking as if nothing happened. The broken, pothole-filled streets, the crumbling houses, the trash piled up in vacant lots, the narrow alleyways barely wide enough to squeeze through. If you think about it, there's not much difference between living here and in the backrooms. Well, there is a difference, he knows this area and what to expect. Like Simón's barbershop, for example. Did he have a daughter? He'll ask later, for now, he has to check the house.

He had planned to call Daniel to save him the walk and have him pick him up on his motorcycle while they caught up. Since he made the trip, he could bother to knock on his door and say hello, but he prefers to check his own shack first. He just has to keep going straight for a couple more blocks.

It was the 2022 World Cup final when he woke up in the backrooms after drinking too much because Argentina won the championship. He still doesn't know how much time has passed on this side, but one thing is clear. He doesn't have to worry about overdue bills because, like everyone in this neighborhood, he's hooked up to every service available, so they can't take his house for that reason. Stealing it is another matter, which they also couldn't do because everyone knows that besides the TV, he has nothing worth taking. Now the question is to find out if anyone else decided to occupy his house. If that's the case, he has a gun and an extra 60 kilos of fat to take out whoever it is.
Gato pendejo Sunstone-6beb1d No.6979 es
b2d1e9b38f0ba4fc6a2fb659a12bf68c62ca57cafbc1f3be7b9ecef47c99f908.jpg
11 KB 300×168
>>5890
Rando scratches his head with the back of his machete because his mask doesn't protect him but sometimes it doesn't let him get cut...

[Cat?]

[You're right. Cocytus is a tough nut to crack, if it's the one I know... Certain death awaits you if it were just you, but... you have me here, don't you?]

[Hm... So far it's been good to trust you... I guess I'll do it again...]

[Don't worry, I'll take advantage of this situation as best I can, it's my job...]

The battle continues and they land good blows, so good that the Latino has to pull out one of his aces up his sleeve to claim victory. Leaving the cat butler a little something in the process... Rando, although he can't see it, knows when something is dangerous and gets on guard while Ghasto explains to him.

[I know my nature is too much for a human to understand, but, reduced to a mere beast? Hmph!]

He pouts, very dignified, while also preparing to devour him as soon as he's weak enough because he'll need his mass for what he plans to do.

[I wasn't a gift, I'm here on loan, which is only possible through the benevolence of my mistress... Much more adorable than a crude providence.]

[What do we do now?]

[Prepare yourself... The one you should attack is the owner of the zoo... I'll gladly make an opening for you...]

Ghastarla snakes its tail and scratches its revolver a bit while the muscular guy in a combat stance runs among the animals to reach Nick and cut his throat. He plans to use all the necessary effort in this race.
Depending on the outcome, he looks towards Marietta, a little worried, but from what he already knows, she's the least threatened here...

[I want you all to myself, him too, it just had to be resolved like this! Sorry for waking you up!]

He shouts before returning to the fight or not.

Rando:
F: 1d50 = 8 A: 1d50 = 14

Ghasto:
F: 1d50 = 32 G; 1d50 = 15

>aldo

As I see it, I can use the effort mode and I have full points. As it suits me, I'll roll enough dice to be faster than the beasts and kill the black guy.

>aldo 2

Fuck... I check the date and I realize I haven't visited the thread in months. I thought the roleplay was already over kuek.

And well, I'm no longer in my beautiful country because some shitty Chinese won the elections so I've had a lot of work to do... I apologize for the delay, but I'm already married to the roleplay, I want to see it through to the end and for Marietta to be happy before I retire for good.

How are you, my negro? I don't know how long ago it came out or if you've been asked, but did you see the Backrooms movie? What did you think of it?
Rolero Tsavorite-9b2295 No.7280 es
87fb363b14b6021c362138292a554545e3ed3e32e03d62ffd295c55abaef4233.webp
135 KB 750×1000
459f6be93b0f55b69a25f1e7b81dd1cf20496b80cfa2aa24210646d94c862505.webp
119 KB 800×600
76b1921b40d58dc639b639ebca5a8eb1080e0d6c354733516caae1b9fe477b14.jpg
23 KB 309×499
It shook hard here. So scary.

>>5915
>>5916
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 23. Hour 8)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 39/70
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 19/20
-Strength: 5 + 20 Hilda's Spear
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Necklace + Hilda's Flower Crown (Melting)
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 5
You heard her yearning murmurs during sleep. And also her laughter as she carried you on her shoulders. Discomfort and doubt also have their particular timbre, and you recognize them in Hilda when it seems her own words trap her in a mysterious checkmate. Her face recoils for a moment, but her regretful eyes return to you as if seeking mysterious comfort, asking something of you. Perhaps time?

Hilda: It can't be like this, due to my carelessness, I refuse.

She closes her eyes and shakes her head until she stops herself with her palms. She reopens her gaze and looks at you, all seriousness radiating from her.

Hilda: When I'm ready, I promise I'll tell you. Scout's honor.

After that oath, both of you continue the journey. Perhaps doubts or theories about the word that slipped out will assail you, but Hilda displaces them with her games or her talks.

Hilda: If we got trapped and ran out of food, and had to eat ourselves, what would you do?

She asks, tilting her head towards you, half her face tinted with the dull gold filtering into the barred glass corridor. It's a rather morbid topic of conversation especially considering my recent experience, but not atypical of Hilda.

Hilda: I'd give you my left arm. I wouldn't mind because I have two.

But when you offer her a part of yourself, she makes a dismissive gesture with her hand (Pic 1).

Hilda: Meh, I don't want it. I've tasted you and you're salty.

She affirms with her eyes tightly shut, before opening one and peeking at you. It's obvious that saving you from cannibalism doesn't save you from her jokes, especially when she makes you repeat words.

Hilda: Pfff, a joke?

She asks with laughing eyes, hand to her mouth, cheeks puffed by the noises she's containing.

Hilda: Heh... What are you saying, Ashley? Of course... Of course not, ha. A joke, me? But I'm super serial.

The jest turns into a gasp of surprise when you express your anger, and turns into a pout when you tell her it's a joke. She brings her little fist towards your right arm, seeming like she'll hit you, but at five centimeters she regrets it and opens her fingers, and without warning, lunges at you. You almost fall but manage to grab her by the arms. Your back ends up against the barred glass, and your chest serves as a home for Hilda's face. She rubs her face against you, her nose tickling you slightly. She looks at you with lowered eyelids, looking very satisfied with her position.
Hilda: I love you. Never forget it, just like I'll never forget you told me I was good. That way, when I feel tempted to do something really, really bad, I won't, because you'll be with me.

She buries her face in you again.

Hilda: My north... My star.

Her compass.

A very peculiar compass, because she was the one who had to guide you through the storage room, and more than once she stopped to check on you and make sure you were okay. Another oddity is that you were also a compass that asked for cuddles and attention; it was impossible for you not to rub your cheek against the troublemaker's cheeks, and she, with her face adorned with a pretty blush that highlighted the blue of her eyes, complied, even though she also said that time was eating away at her.

She led you to a curved wooden bench, flanked by weeds, shook off the dust with a swipe of her hand, and sat down with her legs tucked up and your head resting between her thighs and tummy. She curved over you, like trees and vines curve under the weight of a greenhouse. With one hand she strokes your hair, and with the other she caresses your features; even though she didn't bring her lips close, you felt her kissing you with her eyes.

Hilda: Are you hungry?

Not really, but she still pulled out a chocolate chip cookie, took a bite, and then brought it to you, feeding you (- Hunger), and then wiping the crumb away with her fingers.

You could stay like this forever, but...

Hilda: I think ants are crawling up my pants. Let's keep going.

As she separated and stood up, she shook her hips and lifted her knees to pat her legs. Further ahead, you find the aloe vera plant. With a demonstration, you show her that it doesn't prick or cut. She nods, murmurs something to herself, and observes the specimen with a vague grimace of dissatisfaction.

Hilda: So it's not a thorny trap or a strange monster.

With the spear knife, you cut a couple of leaves and let them rest on one of the ruined benches. Hilda's gaze stays on you, capturing the whole process.

Hilda: So we leave them here? For how long?

You explain.

Hilda: With everything you know, I think you'd get along well with... Hmm. Forget it.

She was going to say Luz. But she doesn't want to share.

Hilda: I'll keep it in mind in case I have to deal with a giant snail.

As always, it's impossible to know if it's a joke or if there really are such things in the backrooms. Probably.

1/?
Rolero Tsavorite-9b2295 No.7281 es
3ebb7eb0f24d9934482220fb5828d75d76613770710e5e4168de516a69cff3d1.jpg
19 KB 376×815
>>7280
>>5917
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 23. Hour 8)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 39/70
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 19/20
-Strength: 5 + 20 Hilda's Lance
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of salt
-Sack 1/5
Liminal Dictionary

Level 5
Out of nowhere, Hilda starts humming a song.

Hilda: I want snails~ Giant snails~ Not medium or small~ Giants are what I want~

She's quite off-key but looks happy, hands on her backpack straps, swaying back and forth on her heels. But you have to stop her to take her to your discovery: the nettle.

She leans in with you, peeks at you from the corner of her eye, and when you catch her, she looks back at the specimen.

Hilda: It stings, I'll note it down.

You assume she notes it in her head.

You squeeze the little plant. She purses her lips in surprise. You let her know that firmness is key. Hilda's mouth relaxes, and she reaches out to try it herself.

Hilda: I don't feel anything.

She rubs the spines with her thumb, up and down, a few come off.

Hilda: I'm made of stone.

She isn't, her greatest rough patches are her temper and her scars, but everything else is soft, warm, loving. But you're the only one aware of that.

Hilda: Euc-a-lyp-tus.

She repeats slowly.

Hilda: Eucalyp-Ack!

She bites her tongue trying to say it fast.

Hilda: Ow...

She says with her tongue sticking out. It's a bit swollen in the middle, no blood, but it's bruised. Now the tough girl looks at you with eyes shining with hope, as if expecting that in your deep knowledge of the forest you have something that can help her.

Hilda is resistant to other things. But Hilda is not resistant to Hilda. That is knowledge worth understanding.

...

You worry the blue-haired girl might poison herself.

Hilda: Obviously I wouldn't try it without knowing.

She waves a hand, dismissing the matter.

Hilda: Little me would, but I'm big now.

By little me, she refers to herself a year or two ago.

Hilda: And as the big girl I am now, I have to take care of you.
You suspect you are actually older than her, taller is obvious, but also older.

Hilda: Don't do silly things like this.

You cross your eyes.

Hilda: Or it is.

She makes a grimace complicated to describe.

Hilda: Everything is under control.

The girl who later plays with a potentially explosive poison tells you: Liquid pain. A phenomenon for which Hilda shows more willingness than learning to write ("Yes, yes, later, later," she told you). Your blue nettle demanded a sacrifice, and with greater regret you offered it a common weed... A leaf.

Hilda: But Ashley, if there's plenty of that here.

She doesn't seem to understand the reason for your dejection, but she accepts the leaf nonetheless and you see her smile as she spills a drop of pain. She trusted to surprise you, but upon seeing you, she discovers you are self-conscious. She raises an eyebrow.

Hilda: What's wrong? Do you want to do it?

Liquid pain is drunk.

Hilda: Yes, but diluted, with water or...

She gives you a mischievous smile and raises an eyebrow. She leaves the sentence unfinished.
...

A spray of paint goes from your head to the ground. It's the mark of the gale that defied your spear, a memory, because of the untamable beast now only an empty shell remained, pinned to the den of rot like a butterfly pinned by a needle. To the bluish one behind you, you have only one thing to say:

Ahab did not sink.

She scratches her chin with attentive eyes.

Hilda: Uh-huh?

You're fine, that's all she needs to know to relax her expression.

Hilda: Pain? Where?

Back, legs. When you turn around, Hilda, without warning, pulls up your clothes above your head, then you feel a hand placed gently on your bare back, near your bra? (It's up to you to clarify if Cat is wearing underwear at this moment).

Hilda: Hmmm, yes, I can fix it. But not here, not now.

The touch leaves you as she lowers your dress. You look at her, and you worry about the broom situation.

Hilda: They have many.

She doesn't seem to need further justification than that. She smiles at you, looking proud. But soon a tortured groan erases her smile and draws her attention to the moth nest.

2/?
Rolero Tsavorite-9b2295 No.7313 es
3438fbae573dad1f140fd88125b2a364492883ce952637ffde96b91f69e652d1.jpg
84 KB 487×630
770641926405223cdc8e7eabf8e5ecd57346becabaa3a014d1be5b6f65aa2b32.jpg
120 KB 530×795
6db6290faee593fd64112e01476d562cd8ce275303a425a158075f2b0404e4dc.jpg
63 KB 411×411
>>7281
>>5918
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 23. Hour 10)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 37/70
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 17/20
- Strength: 5 + 20 Hilda's Spear
- Agility: 12
- Resistance: 4
- Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Necklace
Inventory:
- Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by CH Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of salt
- Sack 3/5
Liminal dictionary
Video camera
Aloe leaf

Level 5
You move away.

Behind you remains Hilda, her full attention fixed on the mound of jelly where the rotting figure writhes. You pushed aside branches and leaves with your palms, and the moment you passed, they snapped back together fiercely, flinging droplets from the sprinkler water.

You spotted the stone bench, and your legs froze, refusing to walk further—someone was there: a vision of pale nakedness, draped in a mantle that seemed woven from crystal. She crouched there, a finger near her chin, inspecting and sniffing the aloe leaves you'd left on the seat. The antennae on her forehead (because she had antennae) twitched, and she turned her face toward you. Her tinted-glass gaze devoured you for seconds that felt like eternity, and your heart instinctively lurches when her lips form a smile.

Inviting, provocative. You don't know if it's to devour you or to play—perhaps, for her, they're the same thing.

Thunder breaks the spell—a gunshot.

You jump and glance behind. From where you came, the undergrowth ripples in a wave-like motion. Turning back to where the apparition stood, you see her mantle unfurled—revealing itself to be a vast pair of wings. She levitated forward, as if walking on air, her movements so mesmerizing that your senses lagged in reacting. By the time you registered it, she was already within arm's reach, and she leaned in.

She could have snatched you from the ground like an eagle seizing a piglet, but instead, she leaned down and offered you her hand. Instantly, you realize she mistook you for one of her own—a wingless fairy, a wounded nymph. With that gesture, she promised to take you with her deep into the wilderness, into the heart of fauna and flora, where mysterious moths dwell in harmony beyond human noise.
Horror leaves you speechless, fascination leaves you speechless, you're incurable. And the moth princess, seeing her offer go unanswered, pouted in sad disappointment, lifted herself up, turned her back on you, cast one final glance, then flew away into a dark hole in the glass ceiling—taking with her the possibility of going along, of becoming like her, of leaving Hilda behind.

Your heart aches again with the certainty that Hilda would never stop searching for you, through every level, every hardship, until she found you alive or dead. And how would she react upon seeing you transformed into one of the monsters she boasts about hunting...? A mystery.

As minutes pass, it becomes harder to tell whether what you saw was real or just your nerves acting up. But no, you're convinced it was real—though that doesn't change the fact that, in part, it felt like a dream...

But dream cycles also incubate nightmares.

You pick up the video camera you "borrowed"—the excuse being to give it purpose, after all, that person won't need it anymore... Thinking about it brings forth her face. No, that wasn't a face—it was what hides beneath a face, bones barely covered by a paste that somehow manages to keep pain receptors active.

You gather the dried aloe leaf and wait. During the wait, the occasional drip from the sprinklers turns into a light drizzle. The undergrowth at the back stirs—Hilda emerges, using the butt of her shotgun to push aside the bushes.

She reaches where you are, doesn't speak immediately—first she scans the surroundings before looking at you again.

Hilda: Everything okay?

She wants to know if anything strange happened, though her choice of words is peculiar. She says nothing about the figure in the nest, leaving it up to you whether to bring it up.

Hilda: We're way too close to the exit. I wanna go a bit deeper before setting up the tent.
She wants to spend the night there, in the "outside". They sped down the stone path, and along the way the drizzle gave way to rain; the dampness started soaking them, and instead of getting angry, Hilda laughs and jumps with arms outstretched, splashing the little streams forming.

Amid the hotel's luxuries, when her attention drifted from you, you noticed her tense, distant, as if longing to look beneath the Egyptian silk rugs hoping they hide a hole. She wanted to jump to find the Giant in the fog; only the glass stopped her. Like you, she in her own way was a free spirit, only made for an infinite forest hiding impossible dangers.

She's a backrooms girl, which is why she instantly overcame the shock of finding the next glass corridor, occupied by a giant woman. While you realized the statue's stone was covered in newspapers: ads, yellow pages, missing persons. Hilda was already climbing it, extending a hand for you to join her and see what's on the other side, all while the level rained.

The stone got slippery. Newspaper folds stuck to your soles, but that didn't stop you; you reached the top, and realized the corridor was too small for such a colossal woman; she looked sad.

Hilda: Jump!

She leaps and slides down the statue's hunched back, arms up like it's a slide. She lands on her feet, looks up, and waits for you. Whether you go down slowly or take the risk, once below you notice the water starting to rise at your heel, dripping in torrents from the glass.

Soaked, they climb a spiral staircase leading to a series of rusted metal walkways. While below turns into a pond, above becomes a shelter, but there the rain continues. With bangs stuck to her eyes, Hilda pulls a tent from her big backpack and asks for your help to set it up.
With the tent ready, you enter and Hilda partially zips it up so the humidity doesn't concentrate inside the portable tent. Immediately, the sound of the rain turns into a soft, constant drumming.

Hilda: Phew, that was close.

The blue-haired girl takes off her backpack and jacket, and… throws them on you! They land on your legs.

Hilda: Oops, sorry, old habits.

She leans down and takes the jacket off you, but now she doesn't know where to put it. It's not like she did much to you, you're just as wet.

Hilda: I don't... usually share my tent. That's why none of the girls offer to be my partner during group expeditions.

She looks down as she says it.

Hilda: Only Joseph accompanied me... Once... And he left crying. Pff, he never knows how to take a joke.

And what did she do to him? She glances at you.

Hilda: I don't know if you want to know, it's silly.

In case you insist:

Hilda: I asked him to see his... You know, what boys have and girls don't. I had never seen one before... And well... I laughed, that's all. Would you cry if I laughed at your thumb? Of course not.

She starts taking a large plastic bag out of her backpack to put the soaked clothes in. You're left in your underwear, and Hilda asks you to come closer. She lays you on her chest, and with a towel begins to dry you while talking in your ear.

Hilda: And Ashley... Are you feeling better? After taking care of that moth, you should feel more... whole. I don't know how to put it into words, you know I get bored by dictionaries... But I'm proud of you.

The word is "proud," but you understand the message, and the affection she can't convey with her voice, she does with her touch, drying your body with care until you're no longer at risk of catching a cold, and then she hands you the towel and herself, for you to take care of.

Hilda: You only have two more prey left. Two more prey and I'll know you're ready for almost anything.

She tells you without looking at you, pushing her blue hair aside so you can dry her neck.

Hilda: Does your back still hurt?

3/5
Rolero Iris Agate-609e2d No.10320 es
4619276c1cbcb4c9f10ab1ec4b4fa3bcf291217ef91fe021472cb87b6b5b0570.jpg
15 KB 380×219
f7257ec93bc0a2796c1ab37b5af5724b28eaf14bc8158fa0cda8abab7ad1d6eb.jpg
18 KB 401×765
aa1dd868a2ab0142134210cf7c2bd92f5775f2f6ce02e9eed84b25f7ca5706f8.jpg
111 KB 850×1204
>>7313
>level 5.1
Arrangement to differentiate better.

>>5920
>>5922
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 24. Time 21)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 25/70
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of salt
-Sack 2/5
Liminal Dictionary
Video camera

Level 5
After long days, it's time to relax in the calm of the infinite hotel room.

In front of the mirror, you hum, and unlike Hilda, your singing doesn't go off-key. You rub aloe on your wrists, which will make you softer, but did you need to be? Surely yes. Sometimes you serve the purpose of being petted.

You return from the bathroom to the bedroom, ready for the movie. Hilda is sitting cross-legged on the immense bed, leaning back with her palms on the sheets, her eyes scanning what's happening on the flat screen with an astonished expression, a mix of surprise and a grimace.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1jEmivkJZM
Jason and the Argo-monkeys~♫
With their guitars and hats~♫

At least the rest of the movie is more normal, if you ignore that all its actors are now furry apes.

You take a spot behind your companion, she retracts her hands and straightens up to make room for you. You surround her with your legs, she remains calm and rests her hands near your ankles, accepting your embrace.

Hilda: Hm?

She closes her eyes as you smear aloe on her face. Now instead of Hilda, it's Hulkda. Does she like it? She tilts her head towards you and takes a few seconds to answer.

Hilda: Well, I don't know.

She takes a few more seconds to think about it.

Hilda: If you have a wound, you put on a bandage, and if you're pretty, you use creams, makeup, and all that. I'm not exactly beautiful, you know.

On screen, the giant Talos appears, and Hilda jumps slightly in her seat, her eyes shining with genuine excitement and her mouth half-open, that glow in her gaze highlighting her adventurous spirit, it was your own movie. You took advantage of her enchantment to groom yourself on her, capturing her little arm with your lips, inhaling her lush hair, sharing closeness.

But Hilda wanted more than that, she longed for your company on future adventures.

You assured her that you would be with her.

Hilda: Good.

She says and turns her face back to the television.

You realized that for her, there was no possibility of you leaving her side, she was unaware of your torment, of the possibility of being separated by the whims of fate. But you also realized that it was a whim of fate that brought them together.

Fade to black and credits, it's the end of the movie. Hilda is going to remove the aloe from her face. A minute passes, two pass, three pass, but before you start to worry, Hilda peeks her head over the edge of the bed and smiles at you. But it's not a normal smile, it's a "I'm hiding something from you" smile.

Hilda: Let's see if you can guess what I have on my back. First clue, it's red.

You try, and you fail.
Hilda: Second clue, it's long.

You try, and if you fail.

Hilda: Third try, it's... Eeeeh... Very red, like blood!

Whether you fail or manage to guess, she shows it to you.

Hilda: Ta-da!

She gets on the bed, and with the rapid beating of her knees, she moves until she's a hand's breadth away from you so you can contemplate the bottle. The label looks aged.

Hilda: It's beer! What adults drink. The leader forbade us, but lightning strike me if you don't deserve it! It's a reward for all your victories.

Has she ever drunk beer before? The doubt makes her look away and snort.

Hilda: Hundreds, thousands, millions!

She turns her little eyes back to you, lowers her head, and shows a small, regretful smile.

Hilda: No... It's my first time. But if those pseudo-tough guys at the bar can handle it, so can we.

...

Level 10
The hustle and bustle of the hotel feel distant.

You request a meeting in the second hallway of the house, in front of the windows that overlook the now-snowy field. It's the ideal place to break, or explain, or do whatever you need to do. It's judgment day.

Yodel: For the new one, the European. Anything to tell the ever-reliable Yodel-Adle-Eedle-Idle-Oo?

But since it's a public place, it's inevitable that unwanted visitors arrive. This time, the red-haired farmer carrying a wooden box of milk... Green milk. She offers you one of the bottles.

Yodel: To refresh your throat.

Whether you accept it or not, she would continue talking.

Yodel: You have a face like a worried possum. My aunt Geltrus also worried a lot, I told her, "Aunt Geltrus, no!" because the keas were pecking and pecking the woolly ones and Aunt Geltrus cried and cried-

You didn't know what to say; it was the first time you'd interacted with her so much. You feel like she's trying to help you somehow; it's strange.

Yodel: And in the end, Aunt Geltrus died because the keas also kicked the bucket, shot down, poof, they're gone. So the moral is... Why worry about something that hasn't happened yet? In the end, maybe it won't happen, and it can be fixed with a shot. The last I saw, there were still plenty of woolly ones.

She arrives at Hilda, picking her nose with her finger, and casts a strange look between Yodel and you.

Yodel: I'm outta here, vampire.

Hilda watches her leave with a raised eyebrow, then looks back at you and asks why you wanted to meet. She senses your discomfort.

Hilda: Did Yodel bother you? Do you want me to go find her and hit her?

She lowers her finger and wipes it on her sweater. You close the distance until her surprised face fills almost your entire field of vision, but you can't hold her gaze; your face immediately falls.

Hilda: Okay? I'll go look for her. It's just teeth, right?

She frowns, and her lips form a pout.

Hilda: Wait... I did something wrong, didn't I? No, don't tell me yet. I need to figure it out myself to improve.

The tough girl leaves, muttering with her hand under her chin about the possible mistakes and rudeness she might have committed.

It's impossible to imagine how she will react to the truth you are hiding from her.

4/6
Rolero Iris Agate-609e2d No.10321 es
25bb36000c30d79591f165c7278ed2a43717b993b6079db21c9aaacc376ebab9.jpg
38 KB 500×500
ddab94b25954a49e9f649753588bb9a419a2250f6de67e746b3acddd07a7099f.webp
1.46 MB 2364×3152
a067ad340c7038e7de929ac3a570d20bd376fb797b16e35869d550720264c0c5.jpg
25 KB 467×657
1c78e7eeeedba80e906c5992646fc6ad53a269fbf053a3357f92add778de5bf8.jpg
85 KB 1250×1524
>>10320
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 31. Hour 18)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 70/70
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 20/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Stamina: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of salt
-Sack 2/5
Liminal Dictionary
Video Camera

Level 10
Upon entering the office, Charmy looks up from her desk and asks your intentions with a stare. She holds a magnifying glass in one hand and has the palm of the other resting on a series of maps and blueprints you can't see from your perspective. You explain that you've come to hang out until whatever is supposed to happen, the cataclysm, occurs.

Charmy: Alright, but don't touch anything without asking first. Some objects in this room are cursed, others are simply precious.

You kept a video camera, but before you open your mouth, you must first consider if you showed it to Hilda, did you?

You scan the room with your gaze. Near you is a globe, and next to it a shelf where they seem to have run out of space, because there's a pile of books and scrolls right beside it. It smells old, of paper, of stories. The same goes for the ivory bust of the bearded man with a hat, for the rainbow conch shell placed in a trophy case, and for the framed photos on the wall, generally of a couple smiling with their features blurred by the lights and shadows of disparate places, be it the clouds of high snowy cliffs or the curves of unknown undergrounds.

Himalaya. October, 1986.

Mammoth Cave. December, 1986.

These are the date and location marked on two of the small plaques you managed to read before Charmy spoke to you again.

Charmy: My parents were explorers... Not of here, but of the outside world, planet Earth.

She puts down the magnifying glass from her desk and gets off her chair. She walks towards you, and since she has short legs, it takes a while, but when she's by your side, she looks at the photos with you.

Charmy: Since they had dwarfism like me, they suffered a lot of mockery and discrimination, people looked down on them... In more ways than one. But that never stopped them, they reached places no small person had ever reached before. They studied a lot, commissioned custom-made equipment, and you could say they took what genetics denied them.

She looks up at a photo where a small version of herself is accepting the yellow hat she is currently wearing.
Charmy: Dad and Mom became moderate celebrities, they even signed with a TV station in Connecticut to have their own educational show, the mini-explorers! That's where we were moving, Mom was driving the truck with all our stuff when suddenly... Poof!

She claps.

Charmy: We almost crashed into a yellow wall. I was about 8 or 9 years old when it happened.

She sighs.

Charmy: The rest is history.

You express interest in the record player. She gestures towards the furniture holding the instrument. While Charmy goes back to check her papers, you open the front of the small cabinet and discover a series of cases containing large, black records, each with a cover that evoked some promise, sensation, journey, or leaves in the wind.

You choose one and present it to Charmy. She brings her magnifying glass towards you, her face enlarged and distorted by the glass. She lowers the magnifying glass, looks at the rabbit on the cover, and then looks at you.

Charmy: Go to the record player. I'll tell you how to get it started.

And so you do. You go to the machine, remove the protective cover from the platter, and carefully, so as not to scratch the vinyl, position it. Once it starts spinning, you gently place the needle. It's like magic, a woman's voice accompanied by mystical harmony emerges from the speakers.

Lately, Here Before, Wayward...

It sounds like a forest.

You can almost see the greenery resurfacing through the windows. But a quick glance outside reveals it's an illusion; the white blanket continues like a heavy slab burying the landscape. But the cold and ice don't stop you from closing your eyes and dreaming.

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=UNmm1RQF05E&list=OLAK5uy_mS82cu0ZE_S7q_uaGDAjT7JEhoiJlZ0tQ
You are lost. You are at a crossroads. But you are not alone, just like when you ran through the forest, you feel connected to the world, and you can see beyond through your eyelids...

Angular mountains that take your breath away, sustained by imagination. Rivers of artificial blues and coasts of fake grass crowned by plastic mushrooms. Caverns of living flesh that pulsate, but you quickly understand that the latter description is redundant.

The labyrinths are alive and they pulse, just like the forest, just like you, even under the intense cold that seeks to numb you. Or is it all a hallucination, a trick of your illness?

You've been here before.

Whispers the intangible wind.

We've all been here.

Charmy: Catherine.

Charmy's voice pulls you out of the spell. You open your eyes. The music sounds distant, almost like an unintelligible echo.

Charmy: Everything okay?

On her serious and serene face, there's a hint of concern.

5/6
Rolero Iris Agate-609e2d No.10322 es
6d05e981d6f53a3e47bc7a073807192ad79a297158832651d00da013bcba05c8.jpg
121 KB 1360×1130
>>10321
<Catherine Hills/Ashley Williams (Day 31. Hour 19)
HP: 110/110
Energy: 69/70
Hunger: 19/20 - Thirst: 19/20
-Strength: 5
-Agility: 12
-Endurance: 4
-Luck: 1 + 0 Hilda's Collar
Inventory:
-Pockets 4/4
Book: New Horizons and Relative Axes, by C.H. Pickles.
Notebook
Pencil
Handful of salt
-Sack 2/5
Liminal Dictionary
Video Camera

Level 10
With the touch of the small, cold hammer, you involuntarily moved your leg, and looked at Julia seeking to understand why.

Julia: Yes, you did. It was your reflexes, and good news, they're sharp.

The doctor takes a break to enjoy her unhealthy sandwich, a vulgar marriage of sweet and savory. During this time, you distract yourself by contemplating the lines of the gray brick, or the imperfections in the wooden beams, or the rust on the boiler in the background whose cracks seem almost like a gaze. But the wait didn't help to grease your usual reticence; it was a conscious effort to have to speak and recount your experiences, which you would have generally preferred to keep hidden in the terrarium of your memories.

The leader didn't budge to help you, leaving you the responsibility of narrating your story before the doctor's clinical eyes. Julia eats only half the sandwich before wrapping it in a paper towel, dabs her lips with a napkin, and with her appetite satisfied, turns her attention back to you.

Julia: For now, hearing your voice is a higher priority than hearing your breathing or your heartbeat.

Sometimes Julia's gentle smile seemed forced, as if kindness were a requirement of her pediatric work.

Julia: I didn't combine it, Elvis did. He was all the rage in my time, a true idol. I know it's not the healthiest food, quite the opposite, but I got used to eating it as a child, I consider it almost a tribute to his legacy.

You reveal that you kept a camera.

Julia: You kept it...?

She arches an eyebrow slightly.

Julia: Is the camera important? Did you start feeling unwell after taking it? Physically, I mean. It could have been contaminated, either the device or the photos it holds.

No, your problems started much earlier. You recount your episodes, first how everything stopped and then how everything tore apart. It hurts to try to give shape to an event that your senses scream should never have happened... But it did, you're sure.

Julia continues to watch and listen, attentive. You talk about the incident at the restaurant, how you stopped being you to become a trapped and terrified version of yourself.

The leader and the doctor exchange glances.

Charmy: Could it be psychological? It wouldn't be the first or last time someone trapped here thought this wasn't real.

Julia: I prefer not to jump to conclusions.

The glances return to you.

Julia: Have you been stressed lately, Catherine? Have you considered that perhaps everything you're experiencing is a hallucination or a dream?

Charmy: If she pinches herself, she won't wake up, that rules out the dream thing quite a bit.

Julia: It's not that simple, Charmy.

Again, another of her forced smiles.

You recount an isolated incident: The basket and the monkey. The doctor and the leader exchange glances again, but this time Charmy doesn't come with a doubt but a certainty.

Charmy: Noble families offer babies as tributes to monkeys. We, people outside those circles, don't know the details of the deal, nor the fate of the babies. But what you saw was real.
This is your father's part, he used to see things that weren't there. That's a fragment of information that makes Julia make a face she quickly hides, and Charmy let out a long, tired sigh.

Julia: Do you know why your father saw things? Did you happen to find out about any possible diagnosis he might have received?

After you answer, Julia would step back to talk to Charmy. It's a bit annoying how they talk as if you weren't present, the condescension of adulthood.

Charmy: Schizophrenia, perhaps?

Julia: In men, the first symptoms generally appear between 18 and 25 years old, while in women it usually appears between 25 and 35 years old. It's uncommon to be diagnosed before 13 or 15...

Charmy: Uncommon... But even if that were the case, it would be better than the alternatives, wouldn't it?

Julia nods.

The doctor brought her instruments in a thick backpack, and while she rummages, Charmy moves a nightstand next to your chair at Julia's request. The doctor pulls a bulky device from the bag, it looks like two iron rectangles welded to a cuff. She places the machine on the nightstand, inserts your small arm into the grip, tightens the straps, and turns on the device, which immediately begins to vibrate and emit heat and beeps, you perceive fans and the hum of a motor.

While the doctor sets up the machine: You voice your other concern.

"Tingling in my vagina."

Julia: Huh? What did you say, sweetie?

Charmy is also staring at you. You repeat yourself, and both their eyes widen a little more than usual.

Julia: Does it burn when you pee? It could be an infection, nothing serious, I brought antibiotics.

No infection. The heat comes from your belly. Julia casts a suspicious glance at Charmy.

Julia: Maybe one of Catherine's friends knows about it...

Charmy: She only hangs out with anyone other than Hilda.

Julia: Hilda... I understand she's quite a problematic girl.

The leader frowns.

Julia: Hilda never...

She looks at you, her expression softens, and then hardens again.

Charmy: Catherine, did Hilda touch you anywhere strange...? If she did, you must tell me, it's important, don't worry, you're not in trouble.

She speaks as if Hilda had done something very wrong, something forbidden. You think about your expedition Perhaps it's necessary to wait for the scenes on level 5 to resolve before jumping into this

Numbers and words appear on the dark screen of the morphogenic radar. Julia asks for silence and concentrates on studying the machine's report.

Julia: With the quick analysis, I don't detect anything unnatural, an accelerated pulse, but that's surely from nerves, there's also an excess of sodium... In your pockets? How strange. But if there were any superficial damage, I suppose it would be noticeable at a glance, and obviously, that's not the case.

She glances at you from the corner of her eye, scanning you up and down.

Julia: I'll prepare a thorough analysis.

In seconds, she types a dozen commands, culminating in a louder click on the enter key.

Julia: Catherine, don't move until the machine is finished. The report will be ready in 30 to 60 minutes.

And while you can clarify if Hilda messed with you.

6/6
Rolero Black Opal-33db32 No.10456 es
5998b5d6fdd5958734521d3d9241d14eaff22db3dad2a78dc49d2fe31371590d.png
284 KB 860×460
86043a204c7b60001abc5c749d80f48894e14b2acf42287d4e0a7caaf845a233.jpg
29 KB 406×492
>>5921
<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 61, Hour 9)
HP: 50/100
Energy: 73/100
Hunger: 18/20 - Thirst: 19/21
-Strength: 10 + Small bow
-Agility: 12 - 0 Stellar orange coat (Open)
-Endurance: 10 + 0 Stellar orange coat (Open)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 1/4
Crowbar
-Small quiver 10/12
x10 Typical arrow
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
Static disturbs the television you found among the ruins of the warehouse. The interference isn't constant, only when the cameraman tries to focus on the feet of Christ the Redeemer. People are seen gathered in bikinis or rags, a crowd running, struggling, crying, and kneeling with hands clasped in prayer, begging for forgiveness. The focus pulls away, framing a reddish sunset, favelas, and collapsed hotels, until it gives screen time to the MNI (Macaco News International) reporter, who has broken Spanish that she compensates for with a beautiful voice and appearance.

Reporter: "One hour after the tragic earthquake here in Rio de Janeiro, the appearance of the Third Meta-Christ is confirmed. The Vatican has yet to comment, while doomsday specialists assure that this is, indeed, another failed apocalypse. After an emergency meeting at the UN, the United States announced that the private company ASYNC has mobilized a fleet of professionals to contain the Meta-Christ and transport it to a safe location."

The cameraman refocuses on the crowd, zooms in on where the mourners are marching and gathering. Crude pixels form an elongated figure floating above the crowd, the zoom goes beyond the hands reaching up, trying to touch the scarlet silhouette. It seems the image dies, but your eyes adjust to the darkness. You manage to spot the red-tinged gaze of a man consumed by sadness. Blood forms threads from his crown.

A hand pokes your back, your spine and legs tense from the fright.

Charlie: I was thinking about what we talked about yesterday.

The original white dwarf pouts upon noticing your nervousness.

Charlie: What are you looking at?

She leans to the side to peek at what has your eyes wide open.

Charlie: You should turn that off. I can't, I already peed.

The television screen is broken and embedded with glass. A small fire burns inside. It's not connected to anything that provides power either. Was it all a hallucination?

Charlie straightens up.

Charlie: I thought we could go look for the archers... If you still want to see them, they live in the forest around here. Neither my short legs nor yours are a problem, I can fly.
She raises her little arms as much as she can, for a moment you suspect she'll fly, but after she lets out a grunt of pleasure, you understand she's just stretching.

Charlie: With this, I'd like to return the favor for... Everything. Not just for convincing me to switch sides when I needed it most, but for what you told me yesterday. You're right, fuck Charles!

They distance themselves again to scavenge for junk.

You find a video camera scorched by fire and half-crushed by debris, looking at it reminds you of your failed dream of being a paranormal influencer. Unbidden tears well up in your eyes. How is it that now that the paranormal surrounds you, those goals seem even further away? Perhaps such ambitions were always childish illusions, perhaps you should have focused on a tangible career all this time, like Alondra, she knows how to make her hands count, which is why she was considered so much to be given a truck, or to be executed during the failed coup.

Alondra (Memory): "Someone important? Me? No way! I'm simply a problem solver. That's how it was where I grew up, The Steel Triangle, a tough place."

Bill's death still made you think.

Alondra (Memory): "He was a bad man, and bad men deserve nasty fates. Huh? What if I killed someone last night...? I don't remember much, just fear, fire, and lurking zombies, real chaos. Can you kill something that's dead...? Anyway, you focus on the job. I always do that when I'm on the verge of despair."

A person who seemed completely oblivious to despair was Dora. She was smiling and smelled nice, she didn't sleep on a filthy mattress like you, she was bathed and rested. You accept the arrow, but you have no lemonade to give her in return.

Dora: A documentary about zombies, sounds cool. I watched one about dinosaurs the other day, "Walking with Dinosaurs," it didn't show them with feathers so it wasn't entirely realistic, but the behaviors were very well captured.

She seems unaware of The Walking Dead.

Dora: Since the electricity went out, I stayed home until it got light. I came with my leader and some friends. They are 715 steps away from me... Or more or less, I don't know, they've probably moved by now.

She laughs.

You try to flee to desperately find lemonade, but her chubby hand catches yours and holds you in place.

Dora: Do you want to go play in the snow?

You're supposed to be working, playing like a real child would be the opposite of labor. Dora scans your surroundings and her mouth drops open as she notices an absence.

Dora: Where did you leave your robot? It was cute. I heard a lot of things got damaged last night...

She doesn't add anything else, but you understand she assumes Flame was one of the damaged ones.

1/2
Rolero Andradite-40adb8 No.10457 es
e41b9a079c0c53af196a9429608fbbc0c9e9d6a91a1a711722c1342a2db05963.jpg
74 KB 900×496
6fc0548b3d0e6ee6228f43c2637066d38e3122cb5cb130bd2885aa889c083d9a.webp
47 KB 360×560
15194f5e58d2feea620a1c0c61f14474ac83bc4d3f38e11d8e9d3a12b38cff65.png
1.89 MB 1200×1920
727c2c001d3589f70939fa123b85b3689e5a6fe3190952b26ff09beafa756aaf.jpg
30 KB 678×452
af825d6e1806de236501e4acf6f54686cc63a2a65d454391ceca9a5604ce9169.jpg
38 KB 433×621
>>10456
<María Isabel Norton IV (Day 64, Hour 10)
HP: 100/100
Energy: 100/100
Hunger: 20/20 - Thirst: 21/21
-Strength: 10 + Small Bow
-Agility: 12 - 0 Stellar Orange Coat (Open)
-Endurance: 10 + 0 Stellar Orange Coat (Open)
-Luck: 1
Inventory:
-Pockets 1/4
Crowbar
-Small Quiver 10/12
x10 Typical Arrow
-Skills:
Deja Vu: Rewind one or two turns in time. Costs 10 hunger and thirst.

Level 10
Alondra was assigned one of the vacant houses, a modest one-story wooden home with a stone basement, and a covered porch underneath where the mechanic built a mound with the parts and scrap she set aside for herself from what she collected. From that cross-shaped window, standing on a stool, for three days straight she watched the reinforcements arrive...

Heavy trucks carrying almond water tanks, escorted by self-proclaimed treasure hunters, and led by a seemingly dim-witted guy named Malcolm.

Malcolm: When you're facing the enemy, I want you to form up like this by size... Tall, tall, short, tall, short, short, tall, tall, short, and repeat.

Bai Yu Lang: I think power, and the sure promise of a cold death, has finally driven you mad.

Malcolm: Have you tried going mad without power? It's boring. Nobody pays attention to you!

On the second day, you rode Alondra's rancher again, but not to collect scrap, but to accompany her outside, to the wheat. The town wasn't the safest place in the world, but leaving the wooden and iron palisade behind made you tremble. Or perhaps what unnerved you was the increasingly intense cold? You heard a rumor on the street about a drunk who tried to shit outdoors, mini-icicles grew on his buttocks, and when he stood up and closed his cheeks... The horror happened.

Explosion.

The world shakes you like a doll, and makes the bow slip from your arm. The rumble was powerful enough to vibrate the glass in the windows.

Towards the smoke and noise you go, there where the steam spreads like a white flower and dust falls like rain. Alondra turns and leaves the dirt path to head straight, the stalks break against the windshield, the seats and the floor of the vehicle rattle.

For the first time in a long time, you felt a slight warmth in the air, also a faint smell of sulfur. Alondra slows down and stops. 100 meters ahead, at the edge of the hole from which the heat and an orange glow emerge, you spot burly men and women, but it's a petite one who comes to talk. As the brunette approaches, she steps over the wires connecting the detonators and the dynamite straps.
With a leap, she hangs from the ranchera's door and scans the interior with a quick glance, until her tired eyes (It's obvious she hasn't slept in a while) land on Alondra.

Austin: We need strong hands that know how to weld and drag. And pipes, lots of pipes.

Alondra: How many exactly?

Austin: All of them, we'll work day and night until we surround the town. If Muhammad won't come to Behemoth, Behemoth will go to Muhammad.

From her work overalls, she pulls out a paper with the measurements she needs and hands it to Alondra. The blonde tucks it into her pocket without looking.

Austin: What can't be welded can be looted from level 2. Even with the shortcut, it's a bit far. If the mayors plan to send people, they should hurry.

Alondra: Won't the entities be a problem...?

Austin: They haven't attacked us since the weather got worse. They say luck favors the desperate, let's take advantage of that.

On your way back to town to deliver the measurements, the question of why Alondra brought you with her came to mind. To watch her back? Emotional support? Soon the answer arrives in the form of a conversation.

Alondra: Tomorrow night there will be a party, but that's not what I want to talk to you about. We're organizing evacuation groups to go very far away in case everything goes wrong... I already spoke with Charlie about it, you'll leave with her and the others.

The way she said it was as if you had no choice. Even after killing Bill, you were still a brat to everyone.

That night, darkness covered the windows.

Alondra wasn't home, well, you hadn't seen her sleep at all in those three days, and on the few occasions you noticed her falter from exhaustion, she recovered by sniffing some of her "good luck white powder," in her own words, an energizer for adults and poisonous for anyone 18 or younger.

From your stool, you couldn't see the lights of the other houses, only the falling snow, as if each flake possessed its own unnatural light. Charlie, contemplating the gloom beside you, said:

Charlie: The day after tomorrow the white worm will emerge, I feel it in my beard.

She may no longer physically have a beard, but the way she strokes the air near her chin, you understand she keeps it in spirit.

But the question remains... What activities did you engage in during your free time, in those three days before the final blizzard? Who did you meet with? Will you choose to flee, or will you decide to stay and give your life for a surely doomed cause?

Charlie: This noon when they weren't around, I saw a completely green and disfigured guy. For a moment I thought he was a zombie, but he wasn't.

2/2
Rolero Andradite-40adb8 No.10458 es
906967a4712f88db42907c4d7599518753b544fbe317addd56c6a45a20cc0ff3.webp
22 KB 1918×1939
6d75bf2f88c7267916f0d002cfe4c84ff8511b9612d2bd60704b30e4ddecfd6c.gif
278 KB 220×162
>>6706
<Irene Di Lombardi (Day 71, Hour 7)
HP: 170/170
Energy: 80/80
Hunger: 40/40 - Thirst: 40/40
-Strength: 11 + 15 Machete
-Agility: 11
-Endurance: 12
-Luck: 3
Inventory:
-Pockets 3/4
Towel (Bloody)
Almond water bottle with salt (10/15)
Eye of Argos
Techniques
-Migatte no gokui: Maximum secret of the body's judgment on its own (-10 Energy/Hunger/Thirst. Avoids damage during the turn it is used).

Level 10
Hey, there's Martha.

One moment... Martha?

Who is Martha?

Your expression tightens as you realize, like someone seeing something creepy in the background of what seemed like a normal photo.

Francine: A headcount? Now, Irene? I don't think this is the time...

You do the math yourself and blurt out the question that leaves more than one speechless.

Hank: What's Batman's mom doing here? Did you smoke what the black girl smokes?

You point to the person in the window. The more they looked at her, the more her features shifted and her face darkened, like a reflection stared at for too long in a mirror. You urge Hank to get people out. He goes in, and shortly after Eleanor and the others leave in a hurry. Hank gestures for you to go and peek with him. As you do and climb the ladder, you find the vehicle empty, but looking outside you see Martha in the window again.

With everyone outside, they study the situation more calmly.

Hank: Now what do we do? Do I shoot...?

Francine: Why is your first response to any problem to shoot it?

The Florida man shrugs.

Hank: It usually works.

He looks back at the place that had been their refuge until then.

Hank: Does anyone know what that creature is? Is it good or bad?

Rosynini: It's smiling, that's good, right?

Hether moves his hands and Francine translates.

Francine: Hether says it's a the window.

Hank: A window, tell me something obvious.

Francine: Not just any window, a the window, it's a type of predatory entity that occupies windows.

Hank: I don't understand a word you're saying.

Hether gestures with growing urgency.

Francine: He says we should be careful, it will try to tempt us with our deepest desires to make us approach. He once heard of a girl who had an arm ripped off by one of those things.

Hank: Prff. Who would fall for such silly tricks...? Wait... What is that it's holding?

At first glance, it looks like a baseball.

Hank: Is that a ball autographed by Pete Rose...? Damn! It's worth a fortune, I could use it to pay for Eleanor's college. Maybe if I'm quick and snatch it...

The man from Florida takes a step forward, but Francine grabs his arm and shakes her head. Maybe Donny would have been tempted too, and just as you think of him, you see him in the window, occupying the same spot Martha was a second ago, with his cap, his bat, and his pale skin.
Claus: It's Donatello! Hello, Donatello! What are you doing there, friend? Don't you see there's a monster?

The blond raises his hand, shakes it in greeting, and tries to get closer. If you don't stop him, the smiler would.

Rosynini: Enough!

The mare silences everyone with a sharp cry.

Rosynini: I won't stay here to suffer from the cold or a pale phenomenon in a window! I'll get us out no matter what, I'll do it for Marbella!

Who is Marbella?

Rosynini: My future daughter. Anyway, everyone to the bus!

No one moves for obvious reasons.

Rosynini: Not inside the bus, on top of the bus!

Although there are doubts, everyone ends up obeying due to the glitter's insistence and the possibility of escaping hell. You help the girls climb onto the roof. Once everyone is up, Rosynini plants herself and hits her backside a couple of times against the bus. She grits her teeth from the cold metal.

The vehicle rattles, sways back and forth, tilting the hood and then the rear bumper. Slowly, it slightly lifts its nose until it looks at the sky and ascends with increasing speed. The breeze shakes you.

Sue: Ah!

The girl almost slides off, but Francine catches her with her body.

Rosynini: Hold on tight, the higher it goes the less I can control it!

The mare closes her eyes to concentrate.

Hank: Irene, give me one of your machetes!

He grabs it from your fingers, raises the hilt with both hands and the blade pointing down, and in one motion plunges it into the roof.

Hank: Do the same!

He tells you and then looks back.

Hank: Whoever can, grab onto me!

Ten meters. Fifteen meters. Twenty meters and climbing. You hear gasps of surprise, and looking at the ground you left far behind, you understand why: The road you had been following for days turned out to be a perfect infinite circle, a ring.

The speed increases with altitude. Frost hits your face, making you squint. Far in the distance, you glimpse a small crack, like an imperfection in a glass dome.

Rosynini: Turbulence!

She warns, and it's immediately felt, the bus begins to shake as if threatening to collapse at any moment, you hear the shattering of glass, and out of the corner of your eye, you notice a wheel flying through the air, unable to withstand the pressure. Hank remains firmly attached thanks to the machete, and under his arm, he shields Eleanor. But what about the others? Will they survive the trip?

Francine: 1d50 = 15
Sue: 1d50 = 35
Claus: 1d50 = 44
Smiler: 1d50 = 29
Nadjela: 1d50 = 30
Hether: 1d50 = 1

To avoid being thrown into the air, you need to roll a die greater than 30. In case of emergency, you can roll dice and try to save some.
>+25 agility die: You save one.
>+50 agility die: You save two.
Rolero Andradite-40adb8 No.10459 es
579be85eaf73c60a0191bbfd376c0d34228878dda1de159aa3d1ccfa663bd99f.jpg
13 KB 236×236
2857cadcdfecc16aa2aa0b0c964ae2fe6dc7fda9a9dadc2d585cb087ed8d71a8.jpg
43 KB 1024×577
0cd5357bb580828a1320420bc8e058e504aafe58a23bf79e1b6142ca0cdb8c9a.webp
59 KB 1014×521
b67d5b1220cfd629202ce7f6b1f79f98627f8e3674eee59918d0ef0fffdaf172.jpg
240 KB 1280×720
>>6914
<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, Hour 11)
HP: 67/100
Energy: 42/50
Hunger: 16/20 - Thirst: 16/20
-Strength: 14
-Agility: 13 - 5 Watered Hazmat Suit V2
-Endurance: 14 + 10 Watered Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 3
Inventory
-Pockets 2/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Magnum Revolver (0/6. Damage x3, Priority +2)
Abilities:
Werewolf (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.

In the Frontrooms
You pass by the first pharmacy you find on the street. You trade the grateful outdoor heat for the aseptic embrace of the air conditioning. You reach the counter with the clerk, a twenty-something who chews gum with an expression of absolute disinterest. There's a grate between you. She glances at the box of Thalasin you present.

Clerk: We don't have that.

She says, and starts browsing her phone, a video plays and a totally impersonal voice (AI) begins to narrate: "The story of Jeepers Creepers and other cryptids in under a minute." The narration is accompanied by background music https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fjN2EqeDLBo and the warning that when the Creeper sets its sights on prey, it doesn't stop pursuing until it concludes the hunt.

You perceive movement on the shelves behind the girl, the boxes and medicine bottles shake with a slight tremor. You spot a pinkish stain that rises for a second and the next moment it scurries away, not giving your eyes time to define a shape or resemblance to any creature you know.

You return to the gallery only for the situation between the artist and you to worsen. You declare his art to be shit, and he takes off his glasses to face you. His eyes are completely black.

Coco: The one who doesn't seem to understand anything is you.

You step back only to bump into someone. It's another of the visitors, her eyes are like pools of ink, and the same with the rest of the crowd. From every aisle, walkway, security booth, dozens of expressionless faces are on you. There's too much silence, you can hear breathing, but there's only one, yours.

Coco: The abyss calls to the abyss.

He puts his glasses back on, places his hand under his chin, and returns his attention to Jupiter. The people stop watching you and resume their casual chats, joke, check their phones, act as if nothing strange had happened. No one speaks to you, even if you talk to them, even if you yell at them or boss them around, it's as if you don't exist.

You leave the gallery.

You enjoy the whole way home, you feel like kissing the potholes for being a reflection of normality, and among the trash you admire you find a torn and wet newspaper page with the following story:

"Maradona, the famous sea bear from Buenos Aires, escaped from the veterinary wing where --- this after in the middle of a show --- skin eruptions --- terrified children --- unknown disease --"

A pair of hands pull your attention away from the newspaper. Above you is a dirty vagrant who grabs you by the arms and spits in your face while yelling at you with words poisoned by his mouth's putridity.

Vagrant: What are you doing here?! Go! Quick! To any mental institution in any country and ask for them! The Holders! We must gather them all...!

If it weren't for the hazmat suit, he'd be burying his filthy nails in you. You have to push him hard to get him off you and resume your path.

At least in the slum you could breathe easy, or so you thought. You entered an alley, and the shadows covered your back when a rusty truck got in the way, blocking the path to the sidewalk. Is some store unloading merchandise and doesn't give a damn about the slum's pedestrians? That's probably the case.

You arrive in front of Daniel's home. The door opens by itself.

1/2
Rolero Andradite-40adb8 No.10460 es
f4769171ced9d3de4715b6c050385c91099d8cb88eea837263afcaea70616839.jpg
44 KB 630×360
9cecf03b1c91726294d4e0603f75af978dc7190c6c478ea088cac456422a04ec.jpg
14 KB 596×335
>>10459
<Martín Emilios Palacios (Year 30, Day 19, Hour 11)
HP: 67/100
Energy: 42/50
Hunger: 16/20 - Thirst: 16/20
-Strength: 14
-Agility: 13 - 5 Soggy Hazmat Suit V2
-Endurance: 14 + 10 Soggy Hazmat Suit V2
-Luck: 3
Inventory
-Pockets 2/4
Thalasin (19/30)
Magnum Revolver (0/6. Damage x3, Priority +2)
Abilities:
Werewolf (Transformation): x2 base stats. x3 base stats in aquatic environments.

In the Frontrooms
Blue.

No furniture, no paintings, no scattered beer cans. The only thing here is a square room entirely painted. Even the doors that led to other nooks have disappeared.

Daniel: Martin, is that you?

You recognize the voice, though not so much the diction. Your eyes take a moment to distinguish him amidst all the blue, because his naked, painted body blends in. The only item he's wearing is a similarly painted mp3 player that's playing the following sound https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YYh8UHJmdiY
Daniel: Long time no see. I thought you were dead. I'd give you a hug or something, but I'm in the middle of my pilgrimage. Not that I can move much either, my transfer started from my feet.

It's clear time has changed him: his appearance, his monotonous way of speaking, and the way his ankles sink into the cement floor.

Daniel: Four years since you left, and two since I met Jerry. I'm a new man now. I hope you don't mind that I sold all our stuff, I also got rid of my motorcycle. In Jerry's blue room, no material possession is worth anything.

He sinks another centimeter into the floor.

Daniel: I think I'm one step closer to my divinity. Oh, Martin, since you left everything changed... The gods no longer hide or feign dementia... And inflation is lower, but that's not important to me, I'm transcending.

You hear the shriek of a voice with a forced high pitch. It came from the barbershop.

Daniel: Darkness approaches. Close the door and join the blue, Martin. In the blue, there is no shadow, only Jerry.

Your instinct tells you that stepping into the room would be like diving into quicksand. But turning back the way you came might not be the best either; from there, you hear a loud flapping.

You are at a crossroads. You are alone.

2/2
Otaku Painite-5611db No.10461 es
ebdec41bdf942ccf1dbb8dc9439a2a5cce934656adce8430806bb893fb6c22d6.jpg
61 KB 518×422
39e7a741935b9d5ef8a11cc95564526a2586d35c85a7e7cea88a457456cf5e46.jpg
216 KB 1600×720
ee715ce469114078bc13c59cf45490aa8f9b60565775c2d93a55aaf986bcf986.jpg
186 KB 1600×720
>>10458
>Irene

"No, my dad says smoking weed is for red eco-terrorists. Just... look there" Her pointing out the imposter among them alerts everyone

They pull out those who were inside the bus, with no losses for the moment, but now the problem of having a Window in the vehicle was pressing.

"What if instead of shooting it, we drag it out? I don't think it can take on all of us" The Window was indeed dangerous, and it tries to tempt them in different ways, one in which her brother would surely fall for "Oh please Hank, how can you..." Her words fail her when her thoughts are read, and the entity lands a low blow by conjuring an image of her brother.

She grabs Claus by the shoulder, and for a moment squeezes him harder than necessary while trying to maintain composure. She grits her teeth as if they were going to burst "Are you sure we can't kill it? I'm open to taking out my frustration now... I still have to try the dual-wielding style"

Instead, > she heeds Rosy's insistence to escape via bus flight, helping those she can to climb onto the roof.

"What do we grab onto?" Machetes, duh "Oh, right... it was a good idea to bring this" She lends the rusty machete to Hank, and she sticks her own into the bus roof next to the Floridian.

"Grab onto me Claus"

The turbulent journey begins, they go up, and up, like an anime opening where the characters fall into the void but in reverse, and there the truth was revealed, the road was a circle they would have followed until death if not for this.

The advance continues, and a weakness is seen in this farce, a crack that could free us from this cursed prison, would the bus hold up?

"Damn... it could never be easy, could it?" With her free arm she secures Claus, and sees what other attempts she can make to help

"Sue, grab onto me!... uhh... Claus, help me with Slime!"

1d50 = 41 +11 Agility if it's not added then ignore it kek
If I hypothetically get 75 agility, can I save the 3 who rolled bad dice?
If possible, if the dice don't work out, effort mode for that, save Claus first and if possible Sue, and if all three can be saved, then Smiler too, kel
Otaku Painite-5611db No.10462 pt
>>10461
good luck, re roll 1d50 = 3
Otaku Painite-5611db No.10463 es
>>10462
Hmm, another one just in case 1d50 = 49
Marie Sodalite-c3ce43 No.10464 es
20f3498fcb932a2ba2241aee75130e1100c22f259b9b99dc7445111d2126b9c4.jpg
113 KB 750×1000
561a8495e1947ebf79de84505e5a7bbfc3e96aaec334dd6ae7372559f82a96f5.png
1.70 MB 2168×1220
ca73c9e0dcce5497e1411a48288a705ef89e01526bbf368642ac7cb50ef0fe5f.png
899 KB 850×1000
>>5879
>Marie
Plans, plans! They haven't even finished what they're doing and they're already adding ideas for tomorrow. It's a lover's thing, not that Marie is a relationship guru, but she knows about this. About what? About inventing scenarios in her head about doing things with someone she likes.

Although the fact that they are concrete plans and not just imaginings is new.

<We can do that, camp for a day in the woods near the wheat field.

"A-ah-" -she chokes on her words, frowns, weighing it for a second, then smiles, a smile that isn't entirely genuine, but not fake either. One of those you put on when you're nervous- "uh- sure..." -she shrugs- "I-If you want..."

It's not that the idea makes her jump for joy. But... it doesn't seem bad either.

(W-well, uh... It could be fun.)

She already lost a camping trip in the past. Now she has nothing to miss to refuse. On the contrary, she might regret it if she lost that quality time with Luz. That irritates her, now she wants to do things as best as possible...

(Y-yes, fun... I-I could score points with her... Ha...)

(I-it's not like... It's not like I'M short on points... But...)

(Agh... It's those visions... That future... I don't want to lose it...)

(I WANT THE GOOD ENDING, DAMMIT!, and we have to make the best decisions for the good ending...)

<You, me, Momo too...

"Ah-" -that 'ah' almost sounds like a verbal stumble. Marie makes that silly face when you just notice something silly you did, like putting on your shirt inside out-

<I feel like I've neglected her a bit lately.

Sigh -Marie brings the heel of her hand to her forehead- "osssh..." -she drags her palm down her face- "darn... me too..."

She leans back to look at the sky, her hand falls to the floor of the boat. She looks serious. Almost annoyed.

"Momo..." -but her voice doesn't come with anger, but with a weight of pity, or remorse- "we were supposed to make up..." -she looks to the side, the dark circles under her eyes seemed to be emphasized by the worry that seeped from her furrowed brow- "D-do you think she'll be mad about that?"

<And we'll invite the gondola too, of course.

Luz laughs.

"Jaaja..." -Marie imitates her, but it's clearly a forced laugh, you can see it in her uncomfortable face. She readjusts herself, sitting up straight again, to rub the back of her neck with her lips in a diagonal line, like her gaze. The fake laugh had stopped a while ago- "yeah... Heh..." -she adds a little "heh" to see if it lands- "n-no... I don't think they exist" -too much water makes the bubbles come out weak and unable to form, discomfort is the water of fantasy-

<Somewhere there must be.

sigh -she sighs to relax a bit- "heh..." -this one is more genuine, like the half-smile that remains as a vestige- "I-I always wanted them to be real..." -she answers looking at Luz out of the corner of her eye, then turns her head towards her- "b-but..." -she raises a finger, getting nervous again- "L-Let's prioritize Momo."

She doesn't want to lose her again.

She looks away to look at the sky again. Enjoy the scenery. The calm.

Or so it seems if you don't look at her face, on which consternation weighs.

(I have to tell Luz...)

(I know I have to tell her...)

(It wouldn't be a good idea for Momo to find out I haven't told her yet...)

(The right moment... Just... I have to find the right moment...)

(Agh... I have so much to say...)

(Although... well, maybe the thing about the future, huh... I don't know...)

She's still afraid that telling Luz might make it not happen.

But the sea and love relaxed her. Between caresses, whispers, and kisses, the discomfort doesn't last. Love calls her, and does it again. In English, in Spanish. And if she could, she would say it in more languages. Just to say it. To know which one sounds better.
<It sounds prettier when you say it.

But in the end, that's what really matters. Marie smiles suddenly, as if a strong beat of her heart had moved her lips.

"Ah-... Haha..." -she lets out a half-sigh of happy surprise and then laughs genuinely. Luz impressed her with such a quick, fast, and spontaneous answer, filling her chest with love- "W-what luck..." -she says, trying to match it- "b-because... I'm going to tell you very often... love... heh..."

The gondola ride is a success!

...

They twist her words!

<So... Am I dumb?

"E-eh?" -she startles- "W-what?" -with enough impact to ignore the little smile, Marie is utterly confused by the question- "No!" -she exclaims, raising her arms for emphasis- "Why?" -she asks, fast as a bullet loaded with confusion instead of gunpowder-

<You just said that what you like is dumb, and since I really like you, 2 + 2 equals...

"Huh-? W-waa- I'm falling!"

The moai is maybe slippery or something. Marie stumbles, and waves her arms rapidly like windmills while her back is pulled by gravity. Luckily, that cartoonish effort buys her enough time for Luz's hands to grab her and steady her. Marie jerks her body forward abruptly, and places her little hands on Luz's forearms, lowers her head to let out a sigh.

"Oof... I almost fell..." -she raises her gaze, looking annoyed. Her brow is half-furrowed, but her pouting lips betray an almost childish frustration- "I didn't mean that..." -it becomes clearer. It's that slight annoyance of not being understood- "I-I said I liked it!" -she exclaims, straightening up, her face lighting up with confidence- "Past, past tense!" -she clarifies- "Y-you..." -she lowers her head, as if wanting to hide it in her shirt like a turtle- "I-I like you now... heh..."

<What you're passionate about also defines you, never underestimate that side of yourself. It's like me saying nature is ridiculous... Well, sometimes it is a little...

She has things to say about the first part, but the latter takes priority. Luz looks happy, and that makes Marie snort a little out of amusement.

"I guess... I-I don't know if... r-ridiculous is the word I'd use, but..." -it's not a sentence she really intended to finish, the ellipsis after "but" is actually a period-

<Heh, there was a video of an octopus, very funny...

"Uh...?, A-an octopus?" -she sounds surprised-

That octopus. The one that looks like a cartoon. You know the one. Marie rings a bell, and lets out a single chuckle after the description.

"Ha... Y-yes. It sounds familiar." -she clarifies- "I-I thought it was cute..." -she mentions, scratching her cheek with a finger and looking away-

"Hm..." -she stops scratching her cheek, her finger moves down to her chin, and now she looks thoughtful. She completes the look by gazing at the sky-

(you surely have a strong and interesting opinion about that little octopus, don't you, Lunita?)

Marie thinks about said octopus for a second, transmitting the image to her sword... She simply can't help but be curious when Lunita is half-octopus or something.

1/?

Hey, OP! It's July 15th. Do you know what that means? That's right. We're officially 5 years into the roleplay! Damn, I thought it was 6 is crazy. But as the final goodbye approaches, I'm saving my words for the end. So, well, I'll just congratulate you for bringing us this far. Let's make this final stretch amazing!

Anything prepared? Well, not really. Or am I lying? Maybe in the next parts of this post I'll drop some memes. Kek.

Or maybe we could fill this image with the roleplay characters? Like a collage, everyone posts their characters with this kek hat. I don't know, think about it.

HAPPY 5 YEARS OF BACKROOMS, NIGGAS!
Otaku Legrandite-60bdee No.10465 en
97af3d5bf01e5428e654d12f6505888cd26e9937a810e703bc099d6f2dfb7363.png
2.16 MB 2168×1220
>>10464
Feliz backroomversario

Scroll Mode