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File: AliceCherna0.jpg (193 KB, 900x1273)
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You're sweating, breathing hard, but not winded. Working out like this was really foreign to you, you generally avoided drawing attention to yourself in gym class, preferring to sit alone behind the bleachers, but now with your new body . . . Well, everything seemed much easier, and you liked the attention you got, to a degree. It was mostly just glances but you could feel a weight of something behind it. Admiration, envy, lust, a sensation of attraction. You were a little surprised how fast you lost yourself in the workout, really just a jog, and how the minutes flew by.

You stop by the wall-mounted water fountain next to the main gym door and drink deeply of the icy water, hair held back with a free hand.

"Hey, uh. Alice?"

You straighten up with a start and look back, eyes widening, heart seizing.

Chad is standing behind you, a casual smile on his face, posture relaxed. "Sorry, did I scare you?"

"No," you lie, "Um. No."

"Do you have a second to talk?" he asks.

You feel the subtle stirrings of your Friend, the small voice in your head.

{Well, this will be interesting.}
>>
File: AllSeeing.png (411 KB, 540x540)
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>Archive
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=Spooky+Girl

>QM Twitter
https://twitter.com/timekillerqm

>Discord
https://discord.gg/bD9kpR


I allow between ten and twenty minutes for voting depending on the importance of the issue and how divided the vote is. If the vote is tied up, I usually allow an extra five minutes for a tie breaker, and if no one votes, I roll for the tie breaker.

I always try to incorporate (and encourage!) write ins if they don't violate the spirit of voted decisions, though I may edit or tweak them to fit better.

Vignettes

>All for Blood
https://pastebin.com/2ZNcarjJ

>Ellie's Road
https://pastebin.com/683zbMzz

>Memories
https://pastebin.com/yptkkkQX
>>
You don't know how to stand casually. You feel uneasy, shiftless. It was bad enough that you were uncomfortable around people, worse that it was a person you happened to think was pretty attractive and even worse still because this person in question happened to be the focal point of one of your worst moments of social awkwardness when, of all things, you decided to tell him he'd look good 'on a slab' in front of some classmates, including Chad's girlfriend Holly.

It had been a total disaster, something you'd been keen for forget.

"Y-yeah. Sure," you say, trying not to fidget, but doing it anyway. Running your fingers through your hair nervously.

"So uh, I was just thinking, about what happened in Denny's-"

Oh god.

"Anyway, I felt kinda like dirt, you know? I was little harsh to you and I wanted to, you know, say Sorry."

"Oh. It's okay," you say automatically.

"Yeah? No hard feelings or anything?"

You shake your head, another lie, but you are overwhelmed with an urge to end this conversation.

{Why not be a little more honest with him, Alice? Let him know how his callous disregard for your emotions hurt you.}

Easier said than done.

"Cool, like I said, it was uh . . . pretty messed up. Didn't mean to come at you like that."

You nod.

He's still not leaving.

"You know-" he starts.

Oh god, he's still talking.

"I've seen you around before but we haven't really talked much before, huh?" Chad says.

You glance over his shoulder to see Holly, halfway across the gym. Staring. Glaring.

"No," you say, "I mean, we did at Dennys . . ." Oh god, you brought it up again!

Chad chuckles, sweeping his hair back with a free hand, "Yeah, but, that doesn't really count right? I don't think we were at our best then." He extends a hand to you, a lopsided grin on his face. "Maybe we should start fresh, huh? Nice to meet you, Alice."

{Now, this is an interesting turn of events. Seems you're not the only one enjoying your new body. You could kill two birds with one stone. Get laid and get revenge on Holly. What do you think, Alice?}

Your friend oozes satisfaction and malice, a deadly cocktail that smells of self-serving revenge. You didn't think your Friend approved of such behavior, although, maybe when it was in service of punishing someone else it was different. Your Friend's moral code was still something of a mystery to you.


>Sorry, I'm not wasting my time twice. Have a good one, Chad.
>Hi.
>{Good to really meet you, Chad. It's really a shame we haven't done this sooner.}
>Write in
>>
Good evening TK

>>2216230
Revenge sounds sweet

>{Good to really meet you, Chad. It's really a shame we haven't done this sooner.}
>>
>>2216264
This.
>>
>>2216230
>Hi
>>
>{Good to really meet you, Chad. It's really a shame we haven't done this sooner.}

>Writing
>>
A new, more powerful emotion surfaces through your fear and indecision. Hate.

Maybe your Friend was right, it would be pretty easy to use Chad to get even with Holly. You take a slow breath and surrender yourself.

"Good to really meet you, Chad," you say, your Friend's words coming from your mouth. You reach out, not to shake his hand, but to run your fingers across the back of his hand and up his arm to his bicep. It's hard and warm and you can't help but glance at it. "It's really a shame we haven't done this sooner." Your voice is relaxed and casual in ways you couldn't be around other people.

"Oh uh," Chad glances at your hand on his arm, gears working slowly in his mind. "Yeah, definitely."

You let your hand fall, clasping both behind you. Your Friend continues to speak, "Really, I should be the one apologizing I think. I was a little off that day. I wasn't really myself."

"Sure," he says, eyes wandering up your body. "That's no problem."

"People say I'm kind of . . . "you lay a finger on your lips, eyes searching the air above you, feigning deep thought. "Spooky." You give Chad a toothy grin.

He chuckles, "Maybe a little."

"What do you think?" You stake a step closer to him, underneath your calm exterior, your heart is hammering, your mind screaming, but you also can't seem to do anything other than watch in morbid curiosity.

"About what?" Chad asks, clearly being swept up in this situation and having trouble processing what was happening.

"About me," you say, fluttering your eye lashes. "Do you think I'm too spooky? Am I too strange?"

"You're definitely weird," he says, "But, different is good right?" he looks like he wants to reach out and touch you, but is hesitating. "Different can definitely be nice.

"Do you think so?" You're very close to him now, close enough to feel his breath.

"Yeah," he says.

"Why don't you give me your number?" you ask. "Maybe I can send you . . . something next time I'm bored."

Realization dawns across Chad's face. "Yeah! Uh, Yeah. That'd be cool."

You draw and hand him your phone and watch as he adds his number and name, fingers missing keys and having to hurriedly retype.

"Do you get bored a lot?" he hands you back your phone.

"That depends on how lonely I'm feeling," you say.

"Um. What the fuck are you doing?" Holly demands.

The spell is broken. You and Chad look at the intruder. You automatically take a step back, feeling your false confidence fading away as your Friend surrenders control.

"Huh?" Chad asks.

You now realize her anger is directed at him, not you.

"I said, 'what the fuck were you doing?'" Her eyes are alive with fire.

"I was just helping Alice with her phone," Chad protests.

Holly looks at you and glares.

{I've done my part, Alice. It's up to you how far you want to dig Chad's grave, and what you want to get out of it for yourself.}


>Chad asked to give me his number
>It was nothing, he was helping me with my phone
>Buzz off, bitch
>Write in
>>
>>2216362
>>It was nothing, he was helping me with my phone
>>
>>2216362
>It was nothing, he was helping me with my phone
>Really, Holly. Jealousy doesn't look good on you.
>See you, Chad.

Much as I'd like to get Holly's goat, I'd rather not go after Chad anymore.
>>
>>2216362
>>It was nothing, he was helping me with my phone
>>
>It was nothing, he was helping me with my phone

>Writing
>>
"I-it was nothing," you say. "He was helping me with my phone." You parrot his ridiculous cover story, as if someone like Chad could help you with phone problems.

Holly narrows her eyes, "Don't let me see you talking with Chad again."

"Really, Holly," you say, smiling at her in spite of yourself, "Jealousy doesn't look good on you."

Holly looks like she is about to physically attack you.

{Oh, I wish she would try it.}

"Easy, babe! It was nothing!" Chad tries to calm his girlfriend.

Even if you do nothing further, the damage is done. "By Chad," you say, turning to leave for the locker room to change.

X

The final bell of the day rings and students start streaming for the doors, waiting buses and cars.

You still have to get out to Lasker City to see Cliff again and finally confront him with Ellie. You'd planned on just flying out there yourself, which is much easier to do now that you can also turn invisible. You could also take the opportunity to ask (or demand) a favor of one of your friends. It might be nice talking with Franz some more, although he seems increasingly suspicious of your unusual behavior. You could also spend some more time with Zack, or, if need be, compel him to help you.

Otherwise, it might be easier doing what you needed to with no witnesses.


>Ask Zack to take you
>Ask Franz to take you
>Go yourself
>Write in
>>
>>2216442
>Write in
Talk with Friend about telling Franz our situation. While he was a cad back when he cheated on you, he also knows well enough not to spill the beans. Also we can use his guilt about cheating in the first place to get him to clam up about it.
>Ask Franz to take you
>>
>>2216442
>>2216442
>>Go yourself

We don't really need anyone to drive us, and taking either Franz or Zack could be risky
>>
>>2216471
If no-one else votes for taking Franz, switch my vote to

>Go yourself
>>
>Go yourself

>Writing
>>
"I think I know what you're going to say," you say to yourself as you walk through emptying halls.

{That's not a good way to start a question, Alice.}

"I want to tell Franz about what's going on. I mean the truth."

{Franz?}

Your Friend's disbelief is plain.

"I know he fucked up with Sam, but he's still closer to me than probably anyone. Plus maybe I can use that cheating to my advantage. Put him in my debt."

{I'm not sure about this, Alice. I doubt that Franz would even believe you if you did tell him, and I am not keen on making displays of power. That could lead to more attention. It's best people don't know what you're capable of.}

"I guess," you say. "Yeah, okay."

Emerging in the fading daylight of the mid-afternoon, you set off for home without waiting for Sam or Franz. It would be easier than trying to explain that you didn't have time to fool around.

{So do you have a plan for Ellie and Cliff, Alice?}

"I was thinking I may just spring her on him. You know, pop into his house and call her up? I'm not sure. Will that be a problem for you?"

{With the grave dirt you have, it will be much easier for me to call her, it will be a strain, but not impossible.}

"I've got some questions for him too.}

{Questions?}

"Just some suspicions I want answered."

{Whatever you say, Alice.}

Only a few more minutes into your walk, your phone buzzes. You glance at the screen. It's a text from 000000, some kind of spam or automated message, but then you see the message contents.

Hell̢o. I'm glad you left the rose. I ͘was really afraid thąt you wouldn't.

You'd forgotten about the letter today. Zeros here must be Mr. Admirer using a number spoofing app. Apparently, whoever it was, they'd waited until school let out to text you. You drum your fingers on your phone and try to think of a response


>Who is this?
>Are you the one who left me those letters?
>Are you that creep in the car?
>I can't resist a mystery
>Write in
>>
>>2216535
>I can't resist a mystery
>The threat about hatchets is still applicable, though.
>>
>>2216549
Heh, supporting this
>>
>>2216549

>Writing
>>
I can't resist a mystery. But the threat about hatchets is still applicable, though.

The reply comes back within seconds.

Hah̢aha̸! I don't think hatchets will need to be̕ involved. I'm sorry if I came off creep̨y̧ with the letters though. It's something I struggle with.

Well, at least your suspicions were confirmed about the letters, as if it weren't obvious. You find yourself at a loss for what to say.

{Something wrong, Alice?}

"What do you say to a guy leaving you sappy letters and flowers?" you ask. "As if you'd know."

{You ask them if they're cute, don't you?}

You snort, "That's a bit forward."

{Haven't they been forward with you?}

"Do you think about anything besides sex?" you ask, exasperated.

{I do, but those things aren't as much fun to tease you about. In seriousness, you should probably try to find out more about them, Alice.}


>Do you come across creepy often?
>So, are you cute?
>I've had people think I'm creepy too, I know how you feel
>How do you know about me?
>Write in
>>
>>2216644
>>I've had people think I'm creepy too, I know how you feel
>>
>>2216644
>>So, are you cute?
>>
>>2216644
>I've had people think I'm creepy too, I know how you feel
>Insomuch as one can know the feelings of someone who you've never seen and only communicated through text messages
>So, Mister Mystery, what worldly decisions led you to leaving letters upon my doorstep?
>>
>>2216650
>>2216659
>>2216671

>writing
>>
I've had people think I'm creepy too, I know how you feel, insomuch as one can know the feelings of someone who you've never seen and only communicated through text messages.

The reply is quick, but he ignores your bait.

Sometimes it sucks. Sometim̡es it's okay. But I definitely don't want you to think that.

"Jeez." You can't help but roll your eyes. This guy is laying it on thick, of course, it's also kind of flattering, you're definitely not used to be pursued like this. You type up a quick response.

So, Mister Mystery, what worldly decisions led you to leaving letters upon my doorstep?

Worldly events?, they reply. I noticed you not long ago. I'm surprised I haven't before, but I just haven't been able to control myself. That is, I felt like I couldn't just ignore you. It's a bit unorthodox, but I decided to try to reach out to you. Any missed opportunity is a failure in my book. You never know what could happen if you take a chance.

You weren't sure if he was referring to you or him taking the chance. You key a reply.

Unorthodox is a word for it.

Was ít too strange?

You consider it. No. A little flattering.

You get a simple colon parentheses smile in response. You decide to let fly your other question.

Are you cute?

I might be. I assume being cute will help my cha̶nces.

It definitely wouldn't hurt.

You tuck the phone back into your pocket and wait for the reply, feeling your step a bit lighter. It's good to be wanted.

{Are they creepy?}

"Not really," you say, "Not yet," you add. "I was just thinking that it's nice to be wanted."

{Certainly. Everyone wants to be wanted, Alice.}

More words of obvious wisdom. You feel your phone vibrate again and fish it out.

I think I'm good looking, but I may be a bit biased. Are you asking to trade pictures?

You snort and write back.

I get the impression you know what I look like.

Again, the response is quick.

I do, but sometimes receiving pictures from someone you like is better than simply seeing them.


>I'll trade you. Pic of pic.
>It's not fair that you know what I look like. You should send me a picture.
>Pictures is a bit much, why not tell me what you look like?
>Write in
>>
>>2216757
>Write in
>Ah, but there lies the problem. You know so much about me, yet I'm grasping at straws.
>I'd much rather find out myself who you are before giving away my picture. A girl can't be too careful, in a world with Twitter and Photoshop.
>>
>>2216805


>Writing
>>
Ah, but there lies the problem. You know so much about me, yet I'm grasping at straws.

You hit 'enter' and take bearing on your surroundings. You're nearly home. From there you would just have to drop off your bags and leave for Lasker City from your room.

I can see your point.

Your thumbs fly in the keyboard.

So you can also see why I'd much rather find out myself who you are before giving away my picture. A girl can't be too careful, in a world with Twitter and Photoshop.

You're right about that. I didn't mean to put you under pressure.

You sigh, he's missing the point.

So, it would be fair if I got a picture of you.

There's a long delay this time. So long that you come into view of your house before he replies.

It sounds silly, but I'm a bit nervous about that. I want you to be impressed, but I'm also afraid that you won't be.

You could hardly get upset at someone with self-confidence issues.

You said that any missed opportunity is a failure. Might as well live by your words right?

It's going to be hard, but I'll try. So, I'm curious, what do you think I look like anyway? I'm sure you have some kind of mental picture.


>I think you're someone I know pretending to be someone else
>I bet you're actually a pretty cute guy
>I bet you're actually a girl
>Honestly? You're probably a fat, sweaty nerd.
>Write in
>>
>>2216948
If we're going pure fantasy, I'd say you'd be dark haired, slim but athletic, a runner's build, and you'd have a dark and brooding exterior that you use to hide a sensitive emotional core. You'd be independently wealthy, own a large mansion with a large garage, get to work in your skyscraper via helicopter, and conduct business in an office furnished in lots of glass, steel, and white.

>I bet you're actually a pretty cute guy
>>
>>2216948
>>I think you're someone I know pretending to be someone else
>>
>>2217006
>>2217010

>writing
>>
My first mental picture is of someone I know pretending to be someone else.

Hiding behind the 'oh-so-cool' exterior of 'words on a s͙cree̕n'?

The text oozes sarcasm, you can't help but snort in amusement.

You would only have my word if I told you that I wasn't, wouldn't you, Alice?

I would.

So really, what do you imagine?

You stop walking and glance around, making sure there are no cars or pedestrians around before you lean your head back and close your eyes, conjuring a mental picture. Once solidified, you start typing.

If we're going pure fantasy, I'd say you'd be dark haired, slim but athletic. A runner's build, and you'd have a dark and brooding exterior that you use to hide a sensitive emotional core.

Another pause before the response comes.

That's a tall order!

I'm not finished, you add coyly.

Please, continue.

You'd be independently wealthy, own a large mansion with a large garage, get to work in your skyscraper via helicopter, and conduct business in an office furnished in lots of glass, steel, and white.

There is another very long pause.

You think I'm Christian Grey?

You let out a short bark of laughter.

Are you a fan of the book?

You intend the message as a sarcastic barb.

I prefer not to discuss any master/slave relations until after we've gotten to know one another. Truth be told, I don't think you're far off the mark, besides the stuff about a mansion and helicopter. I'll send you a picture before long. I hope you like it.

You bite your lip.

If you look like I described, I don't think you'll have a problem there.

Bye for now, Alice.

You're momentarily given pause by the inherent strangeness in saying goodbye over text, a medium you can carry a conversation on over days, but whatever.

Bye.

{Do you think he's telling the truth, Alice?}

"I'm not sure. I kind of hope so. But I know better than to trust people I've never met." You ascend the porch steps and enter the house.

{That makes sense.}

(1/2)
>>
"I'm home!" you call.

No one greets you. Perfect.

You race upstairs to your room, drop your things and close the door. Pausing only to check for any new text messages before double checking that you have Ellie's grave dirt in your pocket still. You hope it'll wash out when the time comes. Then, with the briefest flicker of concentration, you slip the bonds of gravity and fade to nothingness. You feel somehow buoyant from within as your feet leave the floor and your body passes through the ceiling. You hold your breath as you pass through the wood, insulation, and asphalt shingles before emerging back into the air above your house. You didn't know if you could breathe while inside something else, and you really didn't want to try.

With another moment of effort, you're sailing up and away, headed north to Lasker City.

{So, Alice, have you decided what you'll do when you get there? Are you going to enter uninvited?}


>No, we'll knock on the door and try doing things civiliy
>Cliff had a chance, we'll go straight in.
>Write in
>>
>>2217082
>>No, we'll knock on the door and try doing things civility
>If he closes the door, then we'll go through it.
>Actually, can I turn part of myself coporeal when I'm phased through a door? It might convince him if I unlock the door on his side while my arm is in it.

Also, don't forget to bring up some slow dance hits of the fifties for later.
>>
>>2217105

>writing
>>
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659 KB
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"No, we'll try knocking and doing things civilly before I have to get nasty. But if he closes that door again, I'm going through it."

{I think he'll take you more seriously that way.}

"Right. Hey, can I turn like . . . partially corporeal? Can I like, stick my arm through and unlock the door?"

{It's an all or nothing game, Alice. You can walk through and unlock it on the other side, though.}

"Hmph." A bit disappointing, but you'd make it work.

Nearly half an hour later you guide yourself in for a landing via your phone's GPS app. You think you're going to lose your mind over how many times it 'recalculates' your route for going off road, but you finally get there. You settle in for a landing in the shade of a nearby tree before returning to visible form. You look up at the bloody October sky and take a steadying breath before marching to Cliff's door.

{Oh, Alice, should we summon Ellie here, or wait until the time is right?}

>We'll do it now.
>We'll wait.
>Write in
>>
>>2217158
>We'll do it now.

We need to give her some words of encouragement before we get to the door. Can she go invisible, though? I'd like to not cause car accidents if I can prevent it. If not, let's go to a wooded area to summon her that's behind Cliff's house. That way we could wave her in through the back window when we're inside.
>>
>>2217204

>Writing

You can be discrete
>>
>>2217158
We'll do it now
>>
In response, you put your hand in your pocket, grabbing a cold handful of earth. "Let's bring her up now."

{As you say, Alice.}

"Wait." You look around. "It's a little conspicuous here. Can we call her in a way that doesn't make it obvious?"

{I can keep her invisible to all but you for now.}

"Do it."

You feel a chill breeze as the leaves stir around your feet. Ellie fades into view, looking lost before she sees you.

"Alice!" Her face is lit with excitement, pristine, unmarred by wounds, bruises or blood, her dress likewise unblemished.

"Hi, Ellie. We're here." You point to Cliff's door.

You see her eyes follow your gaze, her face blanching at the site. "Oh no. I'm . . . I'm a little frightened."

You shake your head, "I'm the one who's scared," you say, "Cliff is going to think I'm some weirdo, he's going to be ecstatic to see you."

"What if he's mad at me? For taking so long to find him?" Ellie's voice wavers.

"Most people don't get a second chance," you say. "I know he'll be happy. Just keep calm and we can do this. Stay invisible if you can until I give you the signal."

Ellie fidgets with the folds in her dress and nods, "Okay, I can do that."

You steel yourself and then walk the rest of the way to Cliff's door before giving a firm knock. There is a delay so long that you consider just walking in before you hear the latches being undone.

When the door does open, you see it's held to only a crack by a chain on the other side, Cliff stares narrowly out at you.

"Miss Cherna." He isn't happy to see you, and he looks right through Ellie.

You spare her a glance and see she's, frankly, shocked. Her eyes are wide, mouth agape. "Cliff?" she asks, though he can't here. She puts a hand to her mouth.

You wish you could comfort her but, not while Cliff can't see her.

He looks over you to the street. "Did you come without your boyfriend this time? I thought I told you we have nothing to discuss. I won't be interrogated."


>Mr. Ellison, I don't mean to cause you any trouble. I'd like to come in and discuss what happened with you.
>You're going to want to hear what I have to say. It concerns your girlfriend, Ellie
>What did I say last time that got you so worked up?
>Write in
>>
>>2217264
>>You're going to want to hear what I have to say. It concerns your girlfriend, Ellie
>First off, though, I have to apologize. I came here the first time under false pretenses about the report, and of the diary. However, the entire reason why I did so involves Ellie, and her relationship with you.
>May I come in? Or better yet, could you close the door so I can let myself in?
>>
>>2217289
Holy shit, this!
>>
>>2217289

>This

>Writing
>>
"I think you're going to want to hear what I have to say," you say, drawing on your small confidence reserves, "It concerns your girlfriend. Ellie."

Cliff's eyes widen, slightly, but enough for you to know you hit the mark.

"But first, I want to apologize. I came here the first time under false pretenses about the report, and of the diary. However, the entire reason why I did so involves Ellie, and her relationship with you. Now, May I come in? Or better yet, could you close the door so I can let myself in?"

Cliff's expression hardens further. "What? Look, I told you there's nothing to talk about. I have nothing further to say to you Miss Cherna. Goodbye, or I will call the police." He closes the door.

"Alice, maybe-" Ellie starts.

"Come on," you say, fed up. You take Ellie's hand and walk forward, passing through the door to find yourself inside Cliff's hallway, facing his back as he walks away from the door. Evidently, you make some kind of sound because he turns around, face aghast.

"Wh-what?"

"Thank you," you say, "Now, like I said, I have to talk to you about Ellie."

Cliff's eyes go from you, suddenly, to Ellie who, you sense, is now very visible.

"E-E-Ellie?" Cliff takes a shaky step backward, bumping into a small lamp table, knocking the light to the floor where it shatters.

Ellie gasps, startled either by the lamp or Cliff seeing her, hands fly to her face. "Cliff, oh no! I'm sorry Alice!"

Cliff steadies himself on the wall, mouth agape, eyes wide, fixed on Ellie. "Y-You're. But . . . Oh my God." Tears well in his eyes which at first he tries to wipe away, but soon lets them roll down his cheeks/. "Oh my god. I thought you were gone forever, Ellie."

You remain silent, resolutely at Ellie's side, but not daring to interrupt.

"Am I dead?" Cliff asks.

"No," Ellie says, stifling a sob, crying as well, tears mingling with the thin trickle of blood from her hair line that runs down her face. "No, you're not, Cliff."

Cliff steps forward, "I missed you. Every day I missed you so much. God, you're so beautiful Ellie, you haven't changed a bit." He reaches out.

Ellie reaches to meet him.

Their fingers pass through one another. Ellie jerks her hand back as if stung.

Cliff lets his hand linger in the air where she was before lowering it.

"My God, Ellie. I'm so sorry."


>Let Ellie and Cliff talk
>Confront Cliff about his possible involvement in her death
>I wanted you two to share the dance you never got to have.
>Write In
>>
>>2217357
>>Let Ellie and Cliff talk
>>
>>2217357
>Let Ellie and Cliff talk
>>
>Let Ellie and Cliff talk

>Writing
>>
You take a step back into the shadows cast by the fallen lamp.

Ellie is freely crying now, hand clenching her dress. "Cliff-" she chokes on whatever she was about to say next.

"No, oh no, don't cry, Ellie," Cliff reaches for her uselessly, "Please don't cry. Everything will alright."

"I wanted this for so long, Cliff," she says, stifling more sobs, "But now that it's here, I can only think of how I must look to you."

"Beautiful," Cliff says, "You look beautiful. Don’t worry about a thing." He looks past Ellie at you for just a moment, expression unreadable.

Ellie sniffs, "It's been years, Cliff. Decades. So long that I've been in so much pain. It's all been so I can see you again. Alice helped me." she gestures back at you, "She found me and she helped me so we could be together again."

"Decades?" Cliff repeats. "Oh. Ellie. I'm . . . " his expression is wracked with guilt. He falls back against the wall, "Oh, what did I do to you, Ellie?"

"You didn't do anything," Ellie says, confused.

Cliff buries his face in his hands and sobs incoherently.

"Cliff?" Ellie asks, voice uneasy.

"This isn't right, Ellie. This isn't right at all. I should be asking- begging your forgiveness for what I did to you."

"What you did . . ." Ellie's voice is distant, confused.
>What did you do, Cliff?
>You feel guilty, just because you weren't with her, don't you, Cliff? (lie) Why don't you two enjoy this one night together. Ellie would like that.
>Let Cliff talk
>Write in
>>
>>2217436
>Let Cliff talk
>>
>>2217436
>What did you do, Cliff?
>Oh, Cliff...

Goddamn it, I've got to head off. Got an early day at work.

G'night, boss, and don't let me down, zjgTcs6O.
>>
>>2217436
Fuck me we were right

>Let Cliff talk
>>
>Let Cliff talk

>writing
>>
You feel a deep sinking in your chest, and a bristling anger in the back of your mind.

"Oh, Cliff . . . " you mutter, not daring to interfere.

"I-" Cliff searches for the right words. "Ellie, I was young and stupid. I was . . . I felt trapped, like my dreams were about to be snatched away. I'm so sorry."

"Snatched away?" Ellie asks, her skin pale, eyes unfocused.

"It was a mistake Ellie. My god. It was the biggest mistake I've ever made. One I've had to live with. I would give anything to take it back but . . . I certainly don't deserve this. I don't deserve your kindness."

"My kindness." Ellie's voice is hollow, distant. A fresh trickle of blood comes from her nose, the deep, sickly purple of bruises raising across her skin like a patchwork of pain. "It was torture, Cliff. Decades of torture. Just for you."

"Ellie-"

"Because of you," she continues. You can see Ellie's pupils fading to white, her skin tightening, drawing her lips back. "Because you killed me. You killed me because of our baby, didn't you?"

Cliff tries to take another step back, but his back is against the wall. "I- . . . Yes. Ellie, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry!?" Ellie hisses, the sound of a coiling snake. "You're sorry? You're a murderer, Cliff. A Murderer!" She's no longer wholly visible, now being partially transparent, her dress fluttering in an unfelt breeze, her feet not touching the floor.

{If you have anything to say to Cliff or Ellie, Alice, I suggest you say it quickly.}


X


And my time is up. Sorry for the cliffhanger, but things ran a bit longer than I expected. I've decided to run a special session on Friday 7 EST (11 UTC) to wrap this up.

As normal, I'm free for questions and comments for a bit longer. Thanks to everyone who played, hope to see you Friday!
>>
>>2217536
Cliff's fucked.

Thanks for running TK, looking forward to seeing this play out!
>>
>Give Ellie and understanding look and try to calm her down.
>Cliff's on his own.

Thank you for running

>>2217536
>Friday run
Twice the Spooky girl in a week? What a treat!
>>
>>2217577
>Thanks for running TK, looking forward to seeing this play out!

My pleasure! I always have a blast

>>2217615
>Thank you for running
Absolutely!

>Twice the Spooky girl in a week? What a treat!

It didn't feel fair to leave off right at the climax. Call it a commercial break.
>>
Oooo wait maybe we can go for a binding. A bargain sealed in blood to intercede on his behalf in trying to convince Ellie not to kill him.

We get to do what we are already planing on doing in terms of trying to calm Ellie down and we get to practice our powers. Devils bargains can be quite fun when you're the devil. There are all those sharp little lamp bits and all it takes is a little prick.
>>
Shattered porcelain and glass crunches underneath Cliff's shoe as he takes another step back, further into the corner he's found himself.

"I'd give anything to take it back Ellie, I've never made a bigger mistake in my life," he says, his hands are shaking but his voice is steady. "I'm so sorry I've done this to you."

Across from him, Ellie is apparently unmoved, her lips peeled back in a toothy snarl, her skin waxy and gaunt, eyes blank, hair is dark and matted with blood, her dress in tatters, her hands held up before her, curled into hooks like she intends to fall on Cliff like a bird of prey.

You stand off to the side, frozen in shock, everything has gone so bad so quickly. You stupidly think of the music you brought with you for their dance together.

{The thing that anchored Ellie to this world, her sorrow and her longing for Cliff are burning away, Alice}

Your Friend answers the question you didn't have.

{She's changing, only her anger and lust for revenge is keeping her now. For the sake of argument, I'll put it into a term you can understand, she'll stop being a 'ghost' and start being a 'wraith'.}

You know these terms are interchangeable anyway. "So, from Casper to Bloody Mary?" you whisper.

{Precisely, Alice. Although, Wraith, I think, sounds cooler.}

You don't have time to deal with your Friend's casual disregard for the situation, and whatever she's becoming, it's clear to you that she and Cliff won't be coexisting for much longer. Maybe you could stop her, or convince her to stop. Maybe even you could try to help reconcile them. Or maybe, Cliff deserves what's about to happen to him.
>Ellie, stop! This isn't you, you don't have to do this!
>Consume Cliff before Ellie can touch him
>Try to "De-summon" Ellie
>Let Ellie exact her revenge
>Write in
>>
>>2223917
>Ellie, stop! This isn't you, you don't have to do this!... I'll take this burden from you

>Consume Cliff before Ellie can touch him
We saw him first
>>
>>2223917
>Ellie, stop! This isn't you, you don't have to do this!

Ellie, I don't know if there's a heaven or hell, but I don't want you to risk going to hell for what you're about to do. Cliff's a shitheel for what he did to you, but I know for a fact that killing him for it isn't going to help.

I promised you that I'd help you pass on in peace. I guarantee you that killing him is only going to keep you here, hurting and angry, for a long, long time. And I can't help you then.

Please, Ellie. Don't. Just let him get his punishment from whatever comes after this.
>>
>>2223917
>Ellie, I could eat him.

Maximum confusion, stall for time
>>
Holding vote for 3 mins for stragglers. This is an important decision and I want to make sure we get maximum input.
>>
>>2223935
>>2223972
>>2224012

>Writing
>>
"Ellie, stop!" you step from the shadows, hand outstretched and are surprised when Ellie does, turning her head to look at you, her neck seeming thinner and longer than it had before. Looking at her was like staring into the face of death. "You don't have to do this."

Ellie tilts her head. "Explain." Her voice is a dry rasp.

{be careful, Alice.}

You swallow hard. "Ellie, I'm just a girl like you. I don’t know everything. I don't know if there's a heaven or hell, but I know I don't want you to risk going to hell for what you're about to do. I think," you say, "I think that if there is a god, or anything like that, they won't be mad at you for getting pregnant, Ellie, but this is murder, and I don't want you risking hell for what you're about to do." You half expect Ellie to attack you instead, but when she does not, you take another step forward and continue.

"Cliff," you gesture at the trembling man, "Cliff is a shitheel for what he did to you. For what he did to you and your baby. But I know for a fact that killing him isn't going to help you, or bring back what you've lost."

Ellie, the thing that was Ellie, exhales through needle-like teeth in a long hiss of muggy steam. Her blank eyes remain fixed on you.

{Alice-}

"I promised you that I'd help you pass on in peace. I guarantee you that killing him is only going to keep you here, hurting and angry, for a long, long time, and I can't help you then."

"Cliff," Ellie says in a voice that is not her own, "Must die, must suffer. Must hurt."

"Please Ellie, don't. Let Cliff get his punishment from whatever comes after this."

Her brow furrows, lip turned down in a sneer, she seems unconvinced, at least part of her is unconvinced. Revenge is a strong motivator.

"I could eat him," you say.

"What?" Ellie is visibly confused.

"I can finish Cliff for you, take this burden from you."

{Yes, Alice, let's act quickly!}

"I- I couldn't make you do that," Ellie says.

(1/2)
>>
"Ellie," Cliff speaks up, "She's right. I do deserve to suffer for what I've done. But I also don't want to see you hurt more because of what I've done." he takes a shuddering breath, "I know that I belong in hell, but I also know that you do not." He looks at you. "Are you going to kill me?"

"Alice, no!" Ellie's skin is regaining its color, her white eyes darkening out again, her fangs shrinking.

You stare at Cliff, heart pounding so hard you can barely hear yourself breathe. You're stand ready to take a life. You strangely think of your first time with Franz, the nervous anticipation you felt before he entered you, now you are poised to lose a different type of virginity. You repeat the word you'd said then. "Yes."

"Alice . . . " Ellie falls to her knees, a teenage girl.

You look down at her. "It's okay, Ellie. This is a burden I can bear." You turn back to Cliff an let instinct take over. Stepping closer, you watch Cliff lose strength in his legs and slide down the wall into a pitiful crouched position in the corner.

"I didn't mean to be a bad person," Cliff says to you. "I never really wanted this."

You can't think of anything to say and instead point your palms at him.

Cliff looks to Ellie. "I'm sorry, Ellie."

You feel yourself somehow seize hold of Cliff, his essence deep within his being.

He seizes, breath stopping with a sudden gasp, eyes rolling back, hands clutching at his throat.

{Very good, Alice. Don't stop.}

You pull and feel it come away, coming into you in a sensation that runs from your fingertips, through your arms and into your body. Your lips go numb and you gasp, eyes fluttering upward for a moment, your hair blowing backward, then it's over.

Cliff's body folds over, face down on the floor.

You exhale a shaky breath and look back at Ellie.

She's crying but very much human, at least in appearance.


>Are you okay, Ellie?
>I'm sorry, I did this for the best. I hope you'll forgive me
>He's gone.
>Write in
>>
>>2224174
>He's gone. I am sorry.
>>
>>2224174
>I'm sorry.

(Start crying)

>I'm so sorry. For putting you through this. For hurting you in this way.

>I just wanted to give someone the chance to say goodbye one last time...
>>
>>2224180
>>2224188


>writing
>>
"He's gone," you say, struggling to meet Ellie's gaze. "I'm sorry." You feel floored by this sudden flood of emotions. You finally look at her and feel tears coming at seeing her sorry state. She's sitting on the floor, looking at Cliff's body with dull shock, eyes wandering back to you. "I'm so sorry, Ellie!" You go to her, dropping to your knees beside her, tears spilling down your cheeks. "I'm sorry for putting you through this, for hurting you."

You feel Ellie put her arms around you. And you were supposed to be helping her.

You press your face into the side of her neck, not even noticing the cold. "I just wanted to give someone the chance to say goodbye one last time," you say with a sob. It was a chance you'd never had.

"Alice, please don't cry."

You can't stop now that you've started and put your own arms around Ellie, feeling the soft satin of her prom dress. "You've been through so much, just for it to end like this. I'm so sorry, Ellie."

"You showed me what mattered wasn't who I loved," Ellie says, "But who I was."

"That's bullshit," you sob, "I didn't show you anything."

Ellie runs a hand over your hair, "It's okay, Alice. Look."

You pull back, wiping at your eyes and are stunned tos ee that you Ellie is fading like an old photograph, losing definition and turning white.

"Oh no," you sob, "Ellie, don't go. Not like this."

"Alice, it's okay. I'm happy with this. I've suffered enough here and I'm ready to move on. You gave me hope where I used to only have fog and pain. Don't cry for me. Please. You brought me more peace than I'd felt in being dead for years." She lays her hands on your shoulders and leans in to leave a soft kiss on your forehead.

"You're one of the best friends I've ever had, Alice. I'm sad we couldn't enjoy our lives together, but please, try to enjoy yours. You don't want to die with regrets."

You nod mutely, noting that you can now see through Ellie in spots.

{Her anchor is gone. She'll be gone soon, Alice.}


>Thank you Ellie, I love you and I'll miss you!
>Wait, please don't go, Ellie!
>Goodbye, Ellie. I hope I'll see you again.
>Write in
>>
>>2224242
>>Write in
>"Ellie, can you promise me one thing?"
>"No matter where you or I end up, could we still be friends?"
>Goodbye, Ellie. I hope I'll see you again.
>>
>>2224253

>writing
>>
File: Skill Tree.png (8 KB, 665x479)
8 KB
8 KB PNG
You sniff and wipe away the last of your tears, "Ellie, can you promise me one thing?"

"What?"

"No matter where you or I end up, could we still be friends?"

Ellie beams at you, "Alice, we will always be the best of friends. That, above anything, will never change."

"Goodbye, Ellie. I hope I'll see you again."

"Goodbye, Alice. We'll see each other again. I know it."

The last thing you see of her is her smile, before she's entirely faded away leaving you alone. Cliff's house is filled with a painful silence that threatens to overwhelm you. You look to his body, crumpled by the shattered remains of a lamp.

{He's dead, Alice.}

"I know that," you say, wiping at your eyes one last time. "I'm the one who killed him."

{You did a good thing, Alice. I am astounded by your kindness. You truly helped Ellie and you punished an evil man. You're truly worthy of admiration.}

You don't know how to respond.

{We should go home, Alice. It's getting late and Grace and Mark may worry if they find you gone.}

"Right." You glance around the hall with an eye for any evidence you may have left behind. With the door firmly locked form the inside and no signs of trauma on the body, you fully expect this will be chalked up to natural causes. "Right," you say again, turning away to lift up, through the ceiling, and out of the house, heading for home."

With a fresh soul consumed, you have the fuel within you to further increase your supernatural capabilities. You can unlock just one of the following skills.

New Level 1 skills

>Mind read
The contents of a mortal mind are no longer a mystery to you. You may consciously choose to read a mind like you would read a newspaper headline.

>Object manipulation
Your hands aren't the only way to interact with objects. Small, minor spirits can be coaxed to manipulate the world around you in simple ways. Levitating a table is no longer just a parlor trick.

Level 2 "Shadow Walk" skills

>Blink teleport
Teleport short distances. You're limited to locations you've already been before, and locations within a small radius, no more than 100 yards. You can't teleport to a family vacation spot, but can teleport into your next door neighbor's house if you've been there before . . .

Level 3 "Invisibility" skills

>Selective Invisibility
Appear to be visible only to a single individual for a few minutes at a time, you are invisible to all others during this time

>Prolonged Invisibility
Appear to be invisible for up to fifteen minutes (Current duration is about 5 minutes at a time.)
>>
>>2224296
>Object manipulation
Time to turn Holly's shower ice cold and hide her underwear after gym.
>>
>>2224312
>Object manipulation

>writing
>>
>>2224312
Why dont we freeze her underwear while we are at it
>>
>>2224366
I was planning on putting it in one of Holly's friend's locker, just to make it extra awkward for them. If we learn how to mess with someone's dreams, it might be fun to make her friend dream of her.
>>
File: Alice's Room.jpg (144 KB, 1080x1080)
144 KB
144 KB JPG
You become aware of the small spirits infesting this world shortly after arriving home. Like fireflies in the night, the wink and dance through the air around you, small, but powerful. At your whim, they can move and influence objects. Bringing you a tissue and putting your phone on your night stand. It's small, but you can imagine some trouble you could get up to with them involving Holly in the locker room.

Now, sitting on your bed, you stare blankly at the opposite wall of your room for a moment.

{It was a hard thing you did, Alice.}

You nod.

{Are you bothered by it?}

"I didn't take any pleasure in it," you say, wondering if that were strictly true, "But I think I'm more upset by what I put Elle through today."

{Ellie will be fine, Alice. You shouldn't worry.}

You nod again. "Does it get easier?"

{What?}

"Death."

{Losing people you love never gets easier, Alice. Not ever. If you mean taking lives, perhaps I'm not best suited to answer that question. I've taken many lives in my years and I regret none of them. Do I think you'll ever become a cold, remorseless killer? No. But do I think you'll find it easier to take lives? Yes.}

"You think I'm going to kill more people?"

{I do.}

You shake your head, "That's sick."

{No, it's taboo. There are many who deserve to die. You'll encounter them and I think start to come around to my way of thinking.}

You didn't like the idea of your morale code being challenged, but at the same time, your Friend was right. You couldn't have envisioned killing Cliff just a day ago, but after seeing exactly how he'd hurt Ellie, it became easy. It wasn't a thrill kill, it was something more . . . Judicial. At least in your mind.

"I'm tired."

{Sleep.}

You hesitate to respond, chewing on your lip nervously a moment. "I'm afraid of having more weird dreams."

{About Ellie?}

"About anything."

{Don't worry, Alice. I'll make sure you don't. I promise.}

Your Friend is true to its word. You have no dreams that night.

X

Morning still comes too soon for you and for one sickening moment, you think the events of yesterday were just a dream, that Ellie is still around and waiting for you, that her and Cliff might still share one perfect dance together and be reunited at last.

You pull the covers around your chin and push away the thought. That would never be. You know your school normally would allow bereavement time after a close friend's death, but this was one you couldn't report. You could still take the day off school anyway. Grace is a softie and you fake being sick easy enough.


>Stay home sick
>Go to school
>Write in
>>
>>2224387
>Stay home sick
>>
>>2224387
Go to school. Staying in sick would attract more attention over her than she would like
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

Sorry guys, gonna have to roll for it

>1 Sick
>2 School
>>
>Stay home sick

>writing
>>
It's easy to convince Grace you're not feeling good. A little sniffling and coughing is all it takes. Fortunately for you, she's a softie, plus you almost never call out of school.

You find that last night's sound sleep did wonders for you and you're feeling leagues better than you were just the night before. You're sad that Ellie is gone, but now you're focusing on being happy for her moving on. You take today as an easy day, staying in just a T-shirt and sleep pants when you pour yourself a bowl of cereal and pad, barefoot, into the living room to put the Twilight Zone on TV. Mark and Grace are both gone for the day so you have free run of the house.

You're amusing yourself by floating your bowl of cereal around when your phone buzzes on the coffee table. Too early for any of your friends to be texting you, it's only about 10:30. The notification shows a media message from 000000.

Oh, the pictures he promised you. You feel your heart beat a little faster, the thrill of seeing a stranger.

You swipe open your screen and open the message and see your excitement was justified. This guy didn't go for a boring picture of himself, this is almost a vogue photoshoot. The photos are taken in near darkness, with only his body lit up and on display.

Shockingly, he's a lot like you described in your text. You can see the hard lines of muscle definition across his arms and chest, his pale skin contrasting well with the shadows cast from the unseen light source. He's muscular, but slim, not beefy. He sent half a dozen shots from various angles and you swipe through them with interest.

He wears black, skin tight pants and has shaggy, dark hair. His eyes are a pale, vivid blue and seem to always look through the camera, at you.

You feel the animalistic tingle of lust as you look at the pictures. But then you come to your senses. You're being catfished by whoever this is.

Shaking your head at your foolishness, you stumble through the steps of a Google reverse image search.

0 results.

Your phone vibrates again. That was a little nerve wracking. I̡ did my best, hopefully you like t̢hem.


>They're very nice
>What's with the vogue photoshoot?
>I definitely have never met you before, I'd remember you. How do you know who I am?
>And I assume you want some from me now?
>Write in
>>
>>2224519
>They're very nice
Talk to our friend a bit while we start getting paranoid
>This is weird, those pictures aren't showing up on social media.
>You mentioned before that there's other people like you and me out there, right? Let's assume that this guy might be one of them.
>What should I do, friend?
>>
>>2224556

>writing
>>
>>2224556
Ooh. This is nice. Have my support
>>
They're very nice

Send.

"So, this is weird. Those pictures aren't showing up on social media."

{That's strange? I would assume he took them specifically for you, Alice.}

"They're not what I expect from selfies," you say and then lapse into silence. "You mentioned before that there's other people like you and me out there, right?"

{Yes, I suppose. There have been many in the past, there may be others now.}

"Let's assume that this guy might be one of them."

{Honestly, Alice, I don't think that would change things. Someone having a Friend like me shouldn't preclude you from dating them, or even being interested in them.}

"Who said anything about dating?" You ask. "We're just talking."

{Certainly, about how you like these shirtless pictures of him.}

"I'm just a bit worried," you say "You don't think this is strange?"

{Possibly. I can see why you might feel that way.}

"What should I do?"

You sense brief turmoil in your mind, confusion.

{Do? I don't see why you're so worried. This person doesn't seem like a threat to me. Haven't I always told you of when situations were dangerous?}

You think of the shack near Zack's house, or the creep in the car.

"Yes . . . "

{Now I'm telling you that a text conversation with this person certainly can't hurt. If I feel things are dangerous, I promise I will speak up.}

You get the reply from zeroes. Thanks, that makes me feel better. People's personal preferences are so varied, it's impossible to say what someone will prefer.
>You have nothing to worry about in the looks department as far as I am concerned
>So where do you go to school?
>How do you know me?
>Do you want any pictures from me?
>Write in
>>
>>2224586
"Can't believe you got ripped so fast just for a picture. Doctors must hate you!"

Let's see if he bites. He might be a shapechanger for all i know
>>
>>2224586
>You have nothing to worry about in the looks department as far as I am concerned
>So where do you go to school?

"Listen, I know this isn't setting off your paranoia detectors, but something about this is setting me on edge."
"You've heard of catfishing, right? People on the internet pretending to be someone else who doesn't really exist? This feels a bit like that."
>>
>>2224629
>>2224645


>writing
>>
Can't believe you got ripped so fast just for a picture. Doctors must hate you!

There's nearly a minute before a response.

Sơrry, I don't get it̵. Is my body a problem?

Times like this, you hate the limitations of text messaging, tone and inflection is impossible to determine. Maybe he wasn't up to date on his humor. You'd better spell it out.

You have nothing to worry about in the looks department as far as I am concerned

The response appears quickly.

Thanks. That's flattering, but looks aren't everything. The person inside matters more I think. That's sort of cliché, but anyone can be beau̢tif̨ul or fit if they try hard enough.

"Listen, I know this isn't setting off your paranoia detectors, but something about this is setting me on edge," you say.

{You're being paranoid, Alice. This person doesn't want to hurt you.}

You think of your response to your Friend while you reply to this guy.

So where do you go to school?

"What, can you 'sense' that? Or is it just because they say they care about me?"

Your Friend doesn't answer.

"You've heard of catfishing, right? People on the internet pretending to be someone else who doesn't really exist? This feels a bit like that."

{I can see why, but I don't get the same impression, Alice. I'm sorry.}

"Well I'm sorry that I'm getting kind of annoyed with you," you say, "This is really bothering me and you have no useful advice." You ignore your phone buzzing in your lap.

{What would you like me to do, Alice? Zip over and tell you this person's plan?}

"Just about anything would be more useful than what you're doing now.}

You feel a bristling irritation in the back of your mind.

{You're letting your paranoia and fear get in the way of your life, I feel. But, I do sympathize with you, Alice, especially after all you've been through.}

You read the text.

I don't actually go to school.

"And you live in Canada too, right?" you ask rhetorically.

Why's that?

I'm too old haha̷

A little red flag goes up in your mind.

How old?

20

{I can't say it too many times, Alice. This man could, if you'll pardon a phrase, be the devil himself and be unable to hurt you over a text message. Just talking is harmless.}

"Yeah? And what if I told you I got the creepy car guy's number?" you ask.

Again, your friend bristles.

{I don't think that's funny, Alice. I would advised you strongly against talking to that person, but if you insisted, you would at least be mostly safe.}

You sigh and look back at the last text, this guy's age.


>What's your name?
>How do you know me?
>20 is a little old to chase a high school girl, don't you think?
>Any chance I could get a picture of you with something like a hand written note?
>Write in
>>
>>2224735
>20 is a little old to chase a high school girl, don't you think?
>While it's not on the same level as Hugh Hefner, I'm not exactly comfortable sharing pics with someone who could be in college.
>>
>>2224790

>writing
>>
20 is a little old to chase a high school girl, don't you think?

You're ready and waiting when you get the response.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to across like that. I assumed a two year a̷gé difference wouldn't be a big deal to you.

You shake your head.

While it's not on the same level as Hugh Hefner, I'm not exactly comfortable sharing pics with someone who could be in college.

Send.

{Now imagine what people would say if they heard someone significantly older than you has seen you naked, Alice.}

You gasp. "That's a little inappropriate to phrase that way, don't you think?"

{I'm just having some fun with you, Alice. I don't have that sort of interest in you.}

"So you've said. You sure talk about it enough." You halfheartedly try to watch the episode you put on, watching the amnesiac air force pilot rushing around an abandoned city.

{I like to make you uncomfortable sometimes. I think comfort breeds apathy. Discomfort can foster creativity.}

"Or maybe you're just a troll," you shoot back.

You feel the tickle of laughter.

{Maybe that too.}

You're drawn away from the show by your phone again.

That's okay. I'm not really looking t̕o get pictures back, especially not those kin̵d. I'm really only interested in getting to know each other. But if that makes you uncomfortable, I understand, I can leave you be.


>I'm just not feeling it, bye
>I'm sorry, this is just kind of weird and forward
>We can get to know each other, I'm just cautious
>I just have questions for you (Write in)
>Write in
>>
>>2224828
>We can get to know each other, I'm just cautious
Yeah, the age gap here is pretty small
>>
>>2224828
>I'm sorry, this is just kind of weird and forward

>"Listen, I'm all for trying new things, but up to a point. I'm even more for choosing who gets to see what parts of me when I decide to. That's my prerogative, and I'm keeping it that way."
>>
>>2224869

>Writing
>>
>>2224890

And this too
>>
>>2224891
>>2224895
BTW, that last bit was directed towards Friend, not Mr. Mystery.
>>
>>2224898
Answered the question I was about to ask. Thanks!
>>
>>2224900
No problem, boss.
>>
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I might be willing to get to know you more, but as it stands, this is just kind of weird and forward.

You set your phone beside your empty cereal bowl and start rewinding Twilight Zone since you'd missed all the good bits even though you'd seen this episode before.

"Listen, I'm all for trying new things, but up to a point. I'm even more for choosing who gets to see what parts of me when I decide to. That's my prerogative, and I'm keeping it that way."

{I won't argue with that, Alice. I just think it's important that you not shut any doors.}

"Even if they're doors I want to shut?"

Silence.

I understand. I think that either way I'd bett̶er give you a little space for right now. I can see how I came on kind of strong. I think I got ahead of myself and made a͘ lot of assumptions that I should not have.

You put your phone done. Leave him on read, maybe that'll cool him off a bit.

{I'm afraid I don't understand your reticence, Alice. But, I'll respect it. Why don't you relax and not worry about this mystery person for now?}

"That's the plan." you lay on the couch, kick your feet up, and hit 'play'.

It's Wednesday, the 11th of October and Halloween is twenty one days away.

***

With Ellie and Cliff resolved, you've got a few other unusual threads you can investigate. For simplicity sake, I'm just going to lay them out here and let people vote on them overnight essentially. So, there will be a long term cut off for this vote, feel free to discuss etc.

To give details.

There are rumors of an abandoned church in the woods around Roselake, commonly called "The Black Church." given its color, it's purported to be a meeting spot for witches. Franz attests that it's real and he's normally a pretty level headed guy.

Zack's Friend Brent insists that in the back country around Lasker City is something that haunts the woods called the "Logging Road Thing." He says it's responsible for the disappearance of a few hikers and a bloody overturned car that was found on a logging road.

Your Friend told you that something malevolent inhabits the abandoned cabin near where Zack lives. That may be worth another look.

When you first met Zack and his friends, they were on a (possibly) misguided quest to summon the ghost of Cody Schrodinger, a school shooter in Roselake High from the 1990s. You've got some experience with ghosts, and it might be interesting.


>Find the abandoned church
>Investigate the Logging road thing
>Look into Zack's cabin again
>Attempt to summon Schrodinger's ghost with Zack and Friends
>Write in
>>
>>2224950
>Look into Zack's cabin again
We'll go in first alone. Kill or eat whatever is hiding in there. Then ask Zack to take us there again and let him feel corageous so his self-steem can start healing

Since Zack is our best contact. He and his freinds are in the know when it comes to the paranormal. We should hang out more with them.
>>
Completely slipped my mind to add:

This is the end of the session. A lot got done and some major things happened. I had a blast and I want to thank everyone who turned out on short notice.

Next session is Tuesday 7 EST (11 UTC)

As always, questions comments etc are welcome. Thanks!
>>
>>2225047
Thank you for running. See you next time
>>
>>2224950
>Look into Zack's cabin again

I support hanging with Zack and his delinquent freinds more like >>2224995
said. Maybe afterwards we can try to search for the School Shooter

also SHIT I missed this AND War of the Roses because of my erratic sleeping/drinking patterns. But it was at least good to catch up and read on all of this, thanks for running TK
>>
>>2225058
My pleasure! Thanks for playing!

>>2225088
>thanks for running TK
Thanks for reading! Sorry you missed it, there's always next time(s)
>>
>>2224950
>>Look into Zack's cabin again
>>
You put down the empty cereal bowl and sigh. You were now burned out on Twilight Zone, it could really only carry you so far, but now you had an idea in your head of revisiting that cabin Zack showed you. Your Friend said there was something there. Something that interested you.

You carry your bowl back into the kitchen and put it in the sink. A glance at the clock shows you it's only the mid-afternoon. You must have really been tired to sleep that long. Breakfast (or lunch?) completed, you head back up the stairs to your room, closing the door behind you and trying not to think about watching movies in here with Ellie.

{It's okay to be sad, Alice.}

"I never said it wasn't," you shoot back, sitting cross-legged on your bed and surveying your room with a sigh, Unfinished projects litter it, the latest being your half-completed Morticia costume. Did you start sewing it before or after your measurements changed slightly? You couldn't remember and would have to double check. No point busting a seam on Halloween.

{I feel like you're simply trying not to dwell on it.}

"So what? Is really concentrating on Ellie going to bring her back?"

{No.}

"It didn't help my parents, it won't help her," you say, "I shed my tears for Ellie while she was still around . . . Sort of. Anyway I don't want to start moping again. That's life, people die. Some people apparently don't die all the way, but still." You trail off, suddenly thinking about your parents. Had any part of them lingered? Had your dad really been in that hospital room the day you couldn't say goodbye? You open your mouth to ask your Friend, then shake your head. No, you didn't want to know.

Why did this have to happen?

You lay back on the bed and stare at the ceiling, warm light spilling in through the window beside you.

You'd come to terms with your loss not too long ago, and now you had a fresh emotional wound threatening to tear that scar open.

{Mourning is healthy, Alice.}

(1/2)
>>
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"It wasn't for me."

{You were younger, you had a devastating loss. There wasn't really anyone around who could help you. It wasn't the mourning that nearly destroyed you. It was a loss of faith, of purpose.}

"I never really had either of those," you reply, "I was fourteen."

{And you should have been enjoying youth. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Alice. Maybe things would have turned out differently.}

"Are you a civil engineer?" you ask, an edge in your voice, "Do you specialize in maintaining Cold War-era road infrastructure in addition to psychoanalyzing people?"

{No.}

You turn over, as if you can turn away from the Friend in your head and face the window, though you can only see the mottled grey sky.

"Maybe I don't want any advice."

{I'm sorry, Alice. Understand that I'm only trying to help. I only want-}

"What's best for me," you finish, "I know."

You consider banishing you friend to Skelleypus for the time being, but are pleased when they fall silent.

You lay like that for nearly an hour when you decide you need interaction. You pull out your phone and call up your contacts. Scrolling past Arthur, Brent, Chad, and all the way down to Zack. You were going to have to make this cabin thing happen at some point. Though, based on what your Friend told you last time you were there, it might be a bit dangerous for Zack. Still, you could worry about dealing with it later. You start typing a message.


>Hey Zack! What's up?
>When can we go back out to that Cabin?
> I was thinking it'd be fun to hang out again
>write in
>>
>>2236332
>>I was thinking it'd be fun to hang out again.
>>
>>2236332
>When can we go back out to that Cabin?
So what kind of spookiness are we talking about here? Can we get unlimited power?
>>
>>2236332
>Tell Zack we'd like to hang out
>Tell him we will meet him at this house later
>Go visit the cabin on our own
He will only get in the way if things get ugly
>>
>>2236332
> I was thinking it'd be fun to hang out again

>When can we go back out to that Cabin?
>>
>I was thinking it'd be fun to hang out again.
>When can we go back out to that Cabin?

>writing

>>2236345
I'll be splitting that option into another vote, rest assured.
>>
I was thinking it might be fun to hand out again.

Send.

His response takes so long that your thoughts start drifting back to Ellie.

Love to! Maybe no lame sword shit this time.

What about the cabin? When can we go back?

You don't have a lot of experience when it comes to tact, certainly not for trying to get things you wanted without sounding thirsty.

The creepy cabin? I don’t know if that's a good idea. It freaked you out a little bit last time. Did you just get out of school?

It didn't freak me out. I was just tired. We can go there first thing when I get there. And I'm out sick.

This time, Zack responds quickly.

Sick? I'm sorry :( Yeah. When do you want to go?

You pull out your mental calendar, you've got plans with Sam at some point soon, you'd have to figure when that was.

Saturday?

Done. I'll pick you up again?

Sure.

Great!


>See you soon!
>You should bring your friends too.
>Don't respond, no need to
>>
>>2236402
>See you soon!
Let's keep the thing about meeting his friends for later
>>
>>2236412

>Writing
>>
See you soon!

You put your phone down.

{The cabin? What are you thinking, Alice?}

"I don't like leaving things unfinished." you say, picking up a brush and starting to brush your hair.

{I don't think that's entirely it. I can sense you're a bit eager. Are you excited to see Zack?}

"Sure," you say, "He's fun to hang with when he's not being dorky."

{And what about the cabin?}

"What about it?"

{What do you want there?}

"I want to know what you were so afraid of," you jab.

{I wasn't afraid, I was concerned for you, Alice. But mostly I was concerned for Zack. A regular human doesn't have much in the way of resistance to the supernatural.}

You sense a hint of irritation in your Friend's tone.

You shrug. "Well, it'll be something to do. Bring your A-game."

{I always do.}

Your Friend isn't as flippant as usual, the words sounding flat and hollow.

"But, if you think there's a credible threat to Zack-"

{I do, Alice. Please be careful with your other friend's lives. I can tell they mean a lot to you and I would hate for you to lose them as well.}


>We'll just have to clear that cabin before Zack and I go
>I think Zack will be fine, you're making a big deal over nothing.
>write in
>>
>>2236477
>Time to clear the dungeon and make it safe for normies
Also

>Do you know how to make normal people more resistant to the supernatural?
>>
>>2236499

>writing
>>
>>2236499
Supporting this
>>
"I won't do anything that could hurt Zack," you say. "I'll be careful with him. You and I can go clear that place out the night before we go over there with Zack. Right?"

You sense your Friend hesitate.

{We could, but it makes me a bit nervous.}

"Nervous? Of what? You said you weren't afraid of it."

{I'm not, I wasn't. I'm just worried that things might have changed while we've been gone.}

"What was there anyway?"

{I suspect it was some remnant of a human soul. I felt coldness, bitterness, envy.}

There's a long pause.

{Rot.}

You're startled by the amount of malice from your Friend.

"Rot?"

{It's some sort of spiritual filth. I just worry, Alice. You're not invincible. I've lost Friends the same as you.}

A comforting though, "We'll do it, but we'll be careful, okay?"

{Okay.}

"So, how do regular people resist the supernatural, anyway?" You ask.

{They do it by being extraordinarily strong, or by having an edge. A friend like me, for example.}

"So, my advantage," you clarify.

{Oh no, Alice. While I'm your protector, I am not the source of your resistance.}

"I'm just really strong?" Now you're a little confused.

{You're extremely strong, Alice.} Your Friend's voice oozes pride, {But that's not all. You're special as well, Alice.}

"Special." That word again.

{Special in many ways. You're special to many people, myself included.}

You weren't sure if that was sweet or creepy. You take it as a mix of both. "Thanks. But it doesn't exactly help Zack."

{Zack will have to help himself I'm afraid.}

"Could you find him a Friend like you?"

{No. And you wouldn't want me to.}

"Why not?"

{If I give you a vague answer, will you punish me, Alice?}

Despite the seriousness of the question, your Friend is actually joking, you can tell. Either your Friend has a good sense of humor, or they're a sociopath.

"Depends on how vague," you say.

{Other Friends like me would likely have competing agendas and could cause for a messy situation, beyond which, I don't have the ability to call them up at will.}

"But you can sense them?"

{Oh yes.}


As it stands, you don't have much else planned for today. You were planning on relaxing all day and worrying about anything important till tomorrow. Of course, that could change.


>There's something I want to do today (Write in)
>Take it easy, worry about it tomorrow
>>
>>2236629
>How do you normally interact with others of your kind?
>Do your kind have a name?
>Are there other "special" people like me?
>If it came to that, how could i fight another Friend?

And finally
>Do you know something about cooking? Something that you can teach me?
If so, try to prepare something for Grace and Mark
If not, then just roll next day
>>
>>2236653

>Writing
>>
With a little help from your Friend, you whip up a simple dish of pasta for Mark and Grace, hardly dramatic, but you Friend was overwhelmed with the ingredient selection available and did their best to guide you through some of the finer points of cooking. Ultimately, you suspect they were humoring your urge to cook.

"The sick girl cooking for the family?" Mark asks after coming in, his coveralls dirty.

You stare back a moment, "I just wanted to do something nice."
"What is it? Pasta?" he sounds skeptical

"Alfredo," you retort.

"I'm sure Grace'll be pleased. Now I need a goddam shower." He tromps out of the kitchen. You manage ultimately to round up the family for a dinner together. It's a bit awkward at first, though Grace is amazed to see that you've cooked something. During the dinner, Mark is mostly quiet, but does get animated while complaining about work. Periodically Grace suggests 'family board game night' but you know that the last time you guys played, Mark lost his temper and the game stopped being fun. Still, it makes you happy to see Mark and Grace relaxing a bit and enjoying themselves. Mark even smiles twice, you count.

Afterward, you help them clean up and go back to your room, worn out, socializing and entertaining isn't your strong suit. You lay in bed reading House of Leaves until you get sleepy enough for bed. Your Friend is quiet nearly the entire time, seeming to give you your space, or maybe contemplating on their own.

Eventually, you turn out the lights in your room and curl up under the covers, trying not to wonder where Ellie might be now, if anywhere.
>>
When you awake, your room is still bathed in shadows, a dark spiderweb of lines cast by the circular window you sleep beside. As you're trying to figure out what woke you, you notice the window light getting brighter. And brighter still. You turn and look back through your window at the waning, gibbous moon far overhead, far too pale to be the source of the light. Then a dark figure appears in your window.

With a yelp, you roll out of bed , dragging your covers with you, and land on all fours, struggling free from your sheets you stand and turn, backing away from whatever came to your window.

Just as in your dream, impossibly bright light is streaming in behind it, nearly blinding you, leaving the figure as a shadow on a spotlight, but dark enough that you can see details like hands and a head, a strange, animal-like head with curling horns. A goat head.

You gasp. "Wh-what is that?"

Your Friend doesn't answer, and now you feel they are gone, an empty spot in the back of your mind though without the customary 'heaviness' you feel in their absence.

You’re the paint sealing your window shut pops and it swings open with a groan of old hinges. You didn't even know your window could open like that. The Goat Thing somehow moves backward for the window to open and then comes in, slowly, silently, crawling in on all fours through the window, a very human hand followed by a cloven foot on your bed.

You can't move, staring, unblinking into that light.

The thing straightens up after stepping off of your bed, standing so high its horns touch the top of your ceiling, just a few meters away.

You stand there a moment, breathing slowly and trying to take it in. It's . . . Really big, vaguely furry, at least the head is. The rest, you're not sure. Details are hard to make out, you can't even tell if it's breathing or not, and no facial details can be made out, just the shadow of horns and ears.

"Who are you," you say, voice wavering. "What do you want?"

The thing looms forward, lifting an arm toward you, hand outstretched, fingers splayed, there is no sound.


>Take its hand
>Run
>>
>>2236821
Friend told us we shouldn't be afraid.

>I asked you a question, well two questions, now answer.

If no answer, then take its hand.
>>
>>2236857

>writing
>>
You stop your panic cold, forcing it back down. Your Friend said you shouldn't be afraid.

"I," you start, clearing your throat.

The Goat tilts its head.

"I asked you a question. W-well, two of them actually." You stare into the abyss of its face. "Now, answer me."

You feel a cold ripple across your body as the thing considers you in painful silence.

{I want you.}

The goat's voice is black in your mind. Powerful and stark. You blink rapidly to try to clear your head when it’s done talking, feeling dizzy afterward.

"M-me?" you stammer.

There is subtle head movement, a nod.

"Why?"

Another head tilt. But this time silence.

It only lifts its hand higher, beckoning for you to take it.

"Why?" you repeat the question, braving that horrible voice.

There's a flicker of something in that dark mask of shadows, eyes? a smile?

{Love.}

The word hits you like a wave in the night, cold washing across you.

Love? You extend your on hand, laying your fingers on its palm.

The Goat thing closes its hand around yours, slowly, its skin is warm despite the coldness of its voice. It bows down, the shadow-wrapped horns passing close to your face, you feel lips on the back of your hand. A kiss.

It looks back up at you and you see the glassy flash of rectangular-pupil'd eyes in the dar, but only for a moment before they disappear into that backlit shadow again.

X

You open your eyes into daylight, your room unchanged, window still painted shut. No goat thing.

{Good morning, Alice. You're up early. Bad dreams again?}


>Yes, very bad dreams
>No, no dreams
>I dreamed that Goat thing came for me
>Write in
>>
>>2236916
>What is that goat thing? No hesitation, no dancing around the subject. Or i'll banish you to Skellypus for the whole day, and you better have been honest about the you no dissolving thing.
>>
>>2236937

>Writing
>>
>>2236916
>I dreamed that Goat thing came for me
>It said it was here because it loved me!!!!
I think freakign out a bit is acceptable at this point.

Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action.
>>
Another secret admirer huh?

>>2236916

>I dreamed that Goat thing came for me
>>
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1.07 MB
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"I dreamed that Goat thing came for me," you say, voice rising. "It said-" you fight to recall the fleeting details of the dream, "It said that it loved me!"

A startled reaction from your friend.

{Loves you?}

"Who is it? What is it? You know, right?"

{Alice, I-}

"Who is that Goat thing?" you demand.

{It's nothing to be afraid of, Alice.}

"And you've said that," you say, irritation edging your voice, "And now I'm annoyed. I've got this weird, giant, goat man interrupting my sleep and- and- and . . . " you struggle for words "Professing love and shit, on top of everything else that's going on. I want answers!"

{This is nothing to be worked up about, Alice, a dream is no cause for concern. Not that dream anyway.}

"No, I want a straight answer. No hesitation, no dancing around the subject or I swear to god, I will banish to Skelleypus for-" you stop to come up with a punishment, "For the entire day! That means no sexual comments about Chad, or Sam, or anything! You'll miss it all!"

{Alice!}

Your Friend is stunned.

"I'll do it!" you threaten, "And you better not be lying about you not dissolving or else we'll find out what happens."

The silence drags on.

"I'm warning you!"

{There's nothing more I can tell than what I have. I'm sorry, Alice. I really am. You don't know what you're asking me to do. You've put me in an uncomfortable position.}

"Welcome to my world! The land of mere mortals!"

{I'd really love to tell you, Alice, and if you'd be patient, maybe we can-}

"Nope. I'm done being patient. Out."

{Alice.}

"Out!" You almost shout it.

For a moment, your Friend does nothing. This moment goes on so long you start to wonder if they may fight you and refuse to leave. But then, as usual, you feel the sensation of draining and somehow gaining weight.

Your plushie skellypus shifts beside you, black, hollow eye sockets turning toward you.

{I'm sorry, Alice. I know you must be very upset, but please don't do this. You have my word that the Goat entity will not harm you.}

"How do you know that?"

{I just know, Alice. Please. Don't leave me. I'm worried about you, Alice. I'm worried you won't be safe. I'll obey your wish to stay away from you for the day, but please don't go, Alice.}

You hear desperation and fear in your Friends voice.


>You had a chance (leave Friend here)
>Fine, you can come with me
>Write in
>>
>>2237047
>Fine, you can come with me

But seriously, not even like a poorly written pokedex entry on this thing. harumph
>>
>>2237073
Oh and by come with I mean we bring Skellypus along, we cant go back on our word.
>>
>>2237047
"Goddamn it."

"Fine. Get in. But I'm still pissed. This need-to-know bullshit is infuriating."
>>
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>>2237073
>poorly written pokedex entry

Goat Thing:
Type: Psychic/Dark
Height: 8'0?
Weight: ???
Abilities: Psychic communication

The Goat Thing frequently appears lit from behind by an impossibly bright light so its features are impossible to distinguish, it has a head that resembles a goat and the body of a human. While generally silent, it can communicate with a powerful psychic voice.
>>
>>2237073
>>2237075
>>2237084

>writing
>>
File: Woods.jpg (159 KB, 1024x793)
159 KB
159 KB JPG
You sigh, considering what your Friend said. It hasn't lied to you, near as you can tell, about such dangers, and thinking about the creep in the car gives you pause.

"God damn it."

{You'll take me?}

You hear joy in your Friend's voice.

"Fine, you can come, but I'm still pissed. This need-to-know bullshit is infuriating."

{Alice, I am very sorry, I know how it must seem, but I simply can't explain these things to you. I really can't. It is a necessity, a vital necessity, that you react to them as they come. If I tell you what to think, what to feel, it changes everything, you see?}

"It's the observer effect."

{Yes. Yes! Exactly! Even my presence here interferes with things and affects your decisions, but there are some things that cannot be helped, and other things are so vitally important that for me to provide you information would be to cloud your judgement.}

"You think that keeping me in the dark keeps my reactions and choices genuine."

{Yes, Alice.}

"And you can't tell me anything about that Goat thing?"

{I can tell you that it will not harm you and is not a threat to you. If it said that It loved you, then I would simply say you should take that at face value.}

You weren't sure how you felt about romantic love from an eight foot tall chimeric monster, and you weren't even going to consider what else it could have meant. "Fine."

{Please bring me back, Alice.}

You pick up the plushie by a black, bony, tentacle."Mmmm, I don't think so."

{What?}

"I'm sticking to my guns. You can come, but you're staying in Skellypus. All day."

{Oh but Alice!}

"Watch it, or I'll find other ways that make you uncomfortable. Don't think I won't flirt with a stuffed animal just to bother you."

Skelleypus shifts uneasily.

{I don't believe you have the self-confidence to flirt with a human, let alone a doll.}

"Dolls are easier," you say, "They don't judge."

{I'll stay!}

Your friend is obviously exasperated, but you feel a bit strange not feeling the tingle of emotion in the back of your mind.

{It is lonely being apart from you.}

"I know, and I'm sorry. Next time, be more cooperative."

You put the thing in your bag and start getting dressed for school. It's Thursday, October 12th.

***

Thanks for playing guys! I'm calling it here but I had a great time! I'm open for questions/comments etc for a while longer. I'll also take Vignette requests and write the ones I like!

Twitter:
https://twitter.com/timekillerqm

Discord:
https://discord.gg/zpbGXH

See you guys next week. Tuesday, 7 EST, (11 UTC)
>>
>>2237117
Thanks for the thread TK.

And now I'm full of dread about taking an animate tentacled plushie with a hedonistic streak out in public.
>>
>>2237145
>Thanks for the thread TK.
Yeah! My pleasure.

>Sex-crazy tentacle monster
What could go wrong?
>>
>>2237215
>What could go wrong?
I have a list.




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