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[[ From your playlist radio entitled "Hallowalk" ]]

-- Suburbs --
-- 2:25 AM --

The autumn wind whips through the tranquil suburban streets, you inhale deeply capturing the gust into your lungs. This late into the night you hear nothing but dead dancing leaves, and your own footsteps bouncing off the quaint homes surrounding you.

A walk tends to get your mind off of late night thoughts accosting you, but they *have* been rather aggressive as of late.

"Who am I," you think.

You never quite figured that one out, most of your life was spent being what others wanted you to be. Now, at this junction in your life you feel yourself deconstructing, it's as if you're never good enough for yourself; Never ^ perfect ^ enough for your own demands, and would much rather find bitter comfort in acquiescence. Are you so simple? Is your need for perfection so much that you're desperate for someone else to define it for you, lest you fall apart at the seams?

Left foot, right foot, deep breath, dancing leaves; All a distraction from the pit falls of isolated thoughts. However, it is a good question -- just who are you really? An individual is a mishmash of experiences, fears, ideals, hobbies, habits, defense mechanisms... But there are tips to every iceberg, and for the sake of simplicity we'll begin with establishing those *tips* to your being that repeatedly seem to affect each and every one of your interactions; The rest is for you to figure out.

>A) An aspiring anthropologist who repeatedly undercuts her own degree in the working world. ( Identifying Humans + ) ( Advanced Imposter Syndrome - )

>B) A recent high school graduate with his whole life ahead of him finding himself strangely... Petrified. ( Annoyingly Optimistic + ) (Low self-esteem -)

>C) A 9-5 retail worker ousted from their living situation, and filled with anxiety at the thought of moving back home. (Wage angst endurance +) (Generalized Anxiety -)

>D) ( Write In )
>d) cumsucker
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That's right, it's been a few years since you started out as a custodian in that ratty motel. The place is usually an absolute mess, and at this point you can tell how much someone is going to fuck up a room just by looking at them. Over time you've gotten quite handy with an assortment of chemicals, brooms, mops and most importantly of all, your trusty vacuum cleaner. ( Intuitive Cleaner + )

The eerie stillness of the night air makes you periodically look over your shoulder. You don't consider yourself a particularly paranoid person, but at this hour in the margins of your mind, every sound transforms into an unseen horror; every person you might cross warps into the portrait of a modern serial killer.

You come to the point in your journey home where you need to decide whether to cross though the park to get back faster, or stick to the streets.

>A) Stick to the streets. Fuck going through there at night.
>B) Through the park. I'd get back a lot faster, and out here I kind of feel like a target.
c) suck cum
im not even reading all this crap

first thing i noticed is that you think it matters who the protagonist is.

nobody cares

When i read Harry Potter as a kod i did not memorize his hair color, eye color etc.

i dont care

i want to know what he does.

Rule #1: If it isnt important to the story why tf would you tell me about it?

Rule #2: if you are a woman stop writing a story and just write a feeling and add a sexy bad guy who rapes you
here op I pick B) - Through the park. also is this your thread where you keep drawing dependant on the option other anons pick or is this supposed to be a collab thread where you leave a choice at the end and another anon picks and draws and continues the cycle?
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You set off down the park path using the flashlight on your phone to guide your way. The park itself seemed to be in a constant state of disrepair; renovations in progress made to appeal to the encroaching gentrification left the place rotting for the time being.

As you plod down the rocky trail you begin to hear the unmistakable sound something scratching on carpet. You try to trace the sound and thanks to your intuitive cleanliness, your natural perception catches a rather small snake defensively writhing a few feet away from you; A curious sight, the only snakes you've seen around here are garter snakes.

>A) Get a picture of the snake and try to find out what type it is.
>B) Avoid the snake and carry on as briskly as possible.
>C) Find a big stick and toss the thing off of the trail.
>D) ( Write in )
(( You matter. Even if you don't believe it, you do. ))

(( For now I'll be drawing dependent on the options picked, this thread is in a quest format because I like quests, but it's basically just for me to have fun drawing and building out this world at the same time. I combined a lot of things I've done into one thing, and I kind of just want to riff on that for a while. ))
d) suck cum
I pick option A
lets see what type of snake it is

also i love this quest thread anon
don't be discouraged by the occasional straggler
i genuinely enjoy your writing style
Lets see where this story takes us
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Through the use of the internet, you spend a few minutes comparing images and descriptions eventually coming to an answer. A saw-scaled viper.

How could such a thing be here? You begin to formulate some gaudy fiction around rich Californians moving in and bringing illegal exotic pets; regardless of what ever haphazard explanation you might think of, the thing is here right now in front of you. It's described as the deadliest viper able to kill a man in a matter of a few hours if you're lucky. You take two precautionary steps back. That's when you hear something slump over further along the trail, and this time the source of the sound is much larger.

A figure previously propped up behind a tree collapses onto the path fruitlessly gripping at the rocks on the ground. The man tosses you a anguished glare, his general aura and clothing evokes 'middle aged dad' - maybe someone out for a morning jog. He props his torso up onto his arms dragging his legs as he inches closer to you.

"She... kill... should not... be," he stammers, his mouth failing to fully catch his panicked mind.

As the pained man catches more of your light you come to realize that he has not been bitten just once but a multitude of times across his arms. You motion towards the snake before you attempting to warn the man, but his attention is fully locked onto reaching you.

>A) Call 911. Use your discovered information to communicate specifically what type of bite the man has sustained.
>B) Quickly position yourself at a safe distance between the man and the snake and hear what he's trying to tell you.
>C) Use the Imbued Focus in your backpack to cast a low level healing spell on the dying man.
>D) (Write in)
well its option B)
there's no way he'll survive even if the ambulance showed up and low-level spells are notoriously unreliable
what is he trying to say?
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"Temple... Other sight..."

" ... a mistake ..."

"and we will... we will pay... "

"we will..."

The man passes out, perhaps for the last time.

The stillness of the night daintily settles once more atop the disturbed scene. You reflect on witnessing a death; it was exactly what you would expect from your night paranoia, and because of that you feel elevated beyond your current reality. Captured in a dreamlike state, your mind is a mixture of discordant thoughts as you delicately stumble away.

Left foot. Right foot. Deep breath. Dancing leaves. Look for death snakes. Call 911. He's already dead. Who am I? Could I have done more?

Other Sight?

Finally, you emerge from the woods and breathe in the refreshing air of society once again. You check your legs for any snakes that might've caught a ride, and have already resigned yourself to burning these clothes when you return home. As you raise your head and take another comforting deep breath, you catch a short blur of a person staring at you from quite a distance away; The person begins walking towards you.

>A) Ignore them, and just walk away.
>B) Run the fuck away.
>C) Warn them about the snakes.
>D) Ask them if they know what Other Sight is.
>E) (Write In)
e) suck cum
Option C)
the least he could do is warn the stranger
wouldn't want there to be two dead people now would we
Plus what's the worst that could happen?
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You figure it'd be best to warn any passerby about the incredibly deadly snake you came across. As you get closer, you see that the figure appears to be a somewhat shorter woman with ink black short hair; Her visage, hair, and clothing somewhat out of sorts as if she either got done with a long day, or just started one.

From your ( Intuitive Cleanliness ) due to your occupation, you think she's the type that keeps her living space very clean opting for a maximum strength shock and awe approach; However, you think she ultimately is not particularly orderly.

"Uh... Hey," you call out to the woman, "make sure you watch out, I just saw a viper in the park."

"Oh yeah?" she raises her brow, "thanks ..."

You wear a bemused expression at the woman's casual response.

She yawns, "Sorry - I mean - It couldn't have really been a viper, right?"

"Did you call the cops?"

You shake your head, "Is ... that who you call for this?"

"Well... I would, " The woman sighs, "did you see anyone *else* out there?"

>A) Tell her about the body
>B) Tell her you didn't see anybody, and call the cops
>C) Ask her what she's doing out here
>D) Make inconspicuous, non-committal small talk
>E) Bring up Other Sight.
>F) ( Write in )
Option C)
not sure if she's trustworthy just yet
lets hear her out a bit first before making any rash decisions
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You decide to play this tactfully and use every speck of charisma provided by your ( Intuitive Cleanliness ) from your janitorial job to find out whether or not you can trust this stranger.

"So... what're you doing out here this late?"

"Just walking" She scoffs and shakes her head

You proceed to clarify, "It's just weird seeing someone else out here this late."

"Yeah, it *is*," she remarks in an accusing tone.

You can sense the woman growing increasingly antsy at your presence

"You didn't see *anybody* else out here?"

>A) Offer name as a small show of trust ( Enter name )
>B) Compliment her hair as a peace offering.
>C) Make a joke to lighten the mode ( Enter Joke )
>D) Deny
>E) Admit
>F) ( Write in )
Option A)
I'm not a witty guy nor do i wanna come off as an autist by complementing her hair out of nowhere
Lets just probe a little bit further
If things get dicey we could always leg it in the opposite direction
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"Didn't mean to - like - question you, just curious. The snake stuff kind of freaked me out," you reassure.

"I'm Keagan"

"... Lyz" she groans.

"Liz... Like, Elizabeth?"

"Fucking - sure, whatever." she throws her hands up and irritatedly shakes her head in confusion.

"Look, I don't know what you're *doing* just ... Anything you might've seen - when you get home keep it to yourself. Forever. Okay?"


Her brow furrows, "Just keep quiet, and go home. If you do that, you'll be fine."

Lyz's frustrated tone while feeling abrasive seems to be mixed with a bit of desperation and exhaustion that your tit for tat questioning seems to have pushed to the edge.

"You probably saw some freaky shit, right? What was it?"

>A) Say finally that you only saw the snake and that's it.
>B) Tell her about everything you saw
>C) ( Write in )
B) telling Elizabeth about the corpse seems reasonable.
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[[ From Lyz's playlist entitled "late prep" ]]

Your paranoia subsides a small amount, and you rationalize if she hasn't killed you already she probably won't. However, you ponder that if she knew *everything* - well - then maybe she *would* kill you. You would be expendable...

While you remain trapped in your skeptical mind, Lyz looks on expectantly waiting for some nugget of information.

You decided to open up a *little*.

"There was ... A man on the trail. He had snake bites all over his arms."

Lyz exhales "So ... he's dead?"

"... Yeah."

"Anything else?" she asks tersely, bitter about your caginess.

You dip a toe into your mind thinking about information you could offer that won't see this night as your last. Lyz's face softens a bit as she notices your hesitation. She breathes deeply and her gaze drifts to the right of you and down towards the pavement.

"... You good?"

While *Elizabeth's* choice of words were unfittingly casual, her tone rung deeply empathetic. You give a confused shrug as the honest answer to her question.

"Whatever happened here came and went. So as long as you stay out of that park for -- " Lyz pulls out her phone to glance at the time and her tone grows more exhausted, "The ... *rest* of the night, you'll be good."

Her eyes return to you, "What were you doing in there anyway?"

"Shortcut, just passing through to get home" you clarify.

"Right. Well, you'd better get out of here."

>A) Tell *Elizabeth* about 'Other Sight'. Perhaps it's dangerous information, but if you really aren't going to see her again, maybe it would be better in her hands.
>B) Offer to walk *Elizabeth* home. It's deadly out there, anything could jump out with murderous intent, and Lyz seems like she might be capable enough to protect you.
>C) Give a half wave goodbye, and head back to your apartment.
>D) ( Write in )
A) tell her the last words of the dying man, maybe she knows whats up.
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Your anxious mind decides at the last minute that Lyz should know about what the man told you before he died.

"Ah - Elizabeth? There's... one more thing."

Lyz shoots you an exaspirated glance, "What?"

"The man mentioned something called 'Temple Other Sight' and - like - a 'mistake' before he died."

Lyz instantly appears to recognize the words the dying man spoke. She didn't seem to be willing to go into too much detail, but it appeared as if something connected in her mind with the way her face lit up.

"Well," Lyz sighs.

"If someone asks you about Other Sight, pretend you never heard of it before. Don't be aggressive about it, just kind of smile and say 'no thanks'. You *don't* want to be involved with them unless you want to end up like your man in the park."

Social situations have never been your strong suit. As your mother used to tell you - you live too much in your mind and not enough in the real world. The idea that someone might approach, and you need to react a certain way lest you become a corpse - well - that ... that seemed --

"Hey," Lyz snaps her fingers in your face, "Don't overthink it. You're not one of their *enemies* so if you keep your distance, the worst they might do is slip you a pamphlet."

>You re-emerge into the present, "Who are they?"

"Some cult. They've been on the move. Probably fucked with something they didn't know shit about."

>"Like what?"

"Like... " Lyz notices your inquisitve eyes and looks away, her face becoming cold again.

"Money Laundering. They're into some shady stuff," She coughs, "They probably won't be long till they move on."

>"Are you... like a cop? FBI?"

Lyz snorts, "Nah. Just like digging into this stuff. I - uh - have a youtube channel."

You remain curious and skeptical, but before you can get the name of her channel, or even voice some sort of rebuttal Lyz ejects from the conversation. With a wave she vanishes into the darkness.

"Careful on your way home. Don't forget to forget. Got it?"
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[[From Keagan's playlist entitled "try and chillist" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uFjJjRZyHmQ]]

From the comfort of your living room, the tense walk home seemed to be worlds away. You quickly slip off your jeans desperate for the meagre comfort of some especially lazy joggers, and toss your hoodie into a hamper.

This is you, your horribly run-of-the-mill name is Keagan Walker. You didn't choose this name and frankly it doesn't *bother* you, it just seems... Invisible. In fact, a lot of who you are feels *invisible*, but perhaps that's just a generational curse. Your most prevalent trait is your unwavering paranoia and your daily struggle to push away the creeping anxiety. Your walls are adourned with your interests but while you try and calm yourself down from your harrowing night those trinkets and posters might as well not be there. Perhaps forcing yourself to busy your mind with things you like might help you recenter yourself.

((Draw and/or suggest some things that Keagan is interested in around his living room, and choose what to do next))

A) Search the internet for Elizabeth's youtube channel. (Write in search terms)
B) Hang sheets over the closed blinds to ensure nobody can look in, take something to knock you the fuck out, and sleep until the afternoon.
C) Participate in (Write in hobby) to ease your mind.
D) (Write in)
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Collects rare liquor, drinks cheap beer and watches horror movies.

C) someone with a shitty job needs shitty hobbies
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>you matter
Again with the female response.
What is it, does the truth not suit you?

Well good luck blaming the patriarchy for never publishing.

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