16 minutes and 4 seconds after the completion of The Bloom, two things occurred simultaneously. First, the sun rose in the East, and arced across the entire sky, setting in the West after only 2 hours and 48 minutes. It stopped moving entirely at that time, and has not moved since. Regardless of where one was located on the surface of the Earth, the sun was seen to rise and set along this timeline. No matter how far one travels East or Westwards, post-Bloom, the sun remains exactly half set on the horizon from all perspectives.

Secondly, 4 out of 5 humans experienced a profound compulsion to walk deeper into the forest. Over the course of the 2 hours and 48 minutes during which the sun moved across the sky, any person that happened to be part of this 80% of the population wandered into the forest. Any that were impeded from doing so would fight to proceed. If fully restrained until the expiration of that 2 hour 48 minute period, the compulsion shifted towards vicious, rabid suicide by any available means.

None of those that experienced the compulsion and entered the woods during that period have ever been seen again. None returned. No trace of their passing could be found. They disappeared.

Many of the surviving 20% died in the ensuing chaos due to exposure, lack of medical care, violent looting, or even predation by wild animals.

In the 5 years since, in some places where the foliage is relatively less dense, and structural remains are relatively more habitable, groups of survivors have banded together to form communities and settlements. Beyond their borders, there are still many that survive in small, nomadic groups or bandit gangs. But no one goes alone. Any person alone in the forest for 5 hours 22 minutes and 8 seconds begins to hear Whispers. These voices drive the listener mad, eventually. Some manage to resist for days or weeks. Others crumble to derangement in minutes, becoming unpredictable, maybe violent, or merely running off into the forest to disappear like so many before. These poor unfortunates are referred to as Greens, and there is no treatment or cure for the condition.

The community you are a part of, Biltmore City, is one of the more populated, and thus powerful, regional hubs. The community is administrated by a Tribunal in tandem with a six member Council. There is hope here for a stable future.

>Cont'd

This game will revolve around three characters that reside in Biltmore City. They are different in many ways but share two traits:

1) All three have seen things that even many other survivors are reluctant to believe. They know there are more than Whispers in the woods. There is a Presence out there. There are things in the forest that are neither human nor animal.

2) All three possess a secret which they have shared with no one else.

You will select which of the three you will begin play as, Then you will select one of three distinct Scenarios to begin our story with. The two you do not select will be assigned to the other two characters, who will then experience those scenarios independently of the character you chose, beginning their stories. The decisions you make as each of these characters will impact the others, directly and indirectly, over the course of play. Perspectives and play will shift between the three.

Actions will generally be resolved by the best of three 1d100 rolls with applicable modifiers. Nat 1's or 100's are considered Critical, and take precedence.

>Cont'd

Select a starting character:

Oliver, The Stargazer
Oliver was 22 when it happened, and only a year away from achieving his doctorate in astronomy at Caltech, with designs on a degree in astrophysics as well. He was visiting the Pisgah Astronomical Research Institute and one of the early refugees to reach Biltmore. He's young, physically frail, and lacks social finesse, but as a bonafide scientific prodigy he is one of the brightest minds in the region. His scientific knowledge extends beyond space, and he helps the community in a variety of ways.
His secret is: that the wife of one of the Tribunal members is having an affair with him. Her husband is jealous, maybe dangerous, and the scandal could destabilize the entire community if he becomes aware.

Roy, The Great Detective
He has a real niche in the Biltmore community as a P.I. for hire, often lying about being a police detective. He was actually a skip tracer for a bondsman in Asheville. He's at least above average in a fight, decidedly below average academically, yet has an uncanny talent for convincing people, reading them, misleading them, and seeing through BS. The cigarettes have him looking closer to 40, but he's really only 33.
His secret is: that he is a Green. His wife fled into the woods during the Bloom, and took their infant daughter when she did so. He will do anything to get his daughter back. He searched alone for months. Something heard his pleas. It offered to give her to him in exchange for Roy's servitude.

Magda, The Tiger Widow
Her husband was killed by an 1100lb tiger. She got her revenge with a bowie knife and a shotgun, and has the trophies to prove it. At a seasoned 38 years old, she's not book-smart, but clever in other ways, and while far from charming, her intimidating disposition can still produce results. When it comes to blows, however, she's one of Biltmore's deadliest. That's why she serves as one of four Captains for its security forces, despite only arriving a year and a half ago.
Her secret is: she wasn't a nomad before Biltmore like she says. She was actually part of a cult of ruthless crusaders. She's done unutterable, unforgivable things. Things the community would rightfully hang her for. She just wants to leave it in the past.

Select a Scenario:

1) You are having a professional meeting, either with a colleague or a client, discussing your work or being hired to do some.
2) You are enjoying some of your leisure time, or perhaps not enjoying it very much; either way, you're free for the moment and in the middle of doing whatever it is you do when not busy with work.
3) You are alone in the forest, barely armed, and pursued by something very dangerous.

>>6359998
>Oliver, The Stargazer
>1) You are having a professional meeting, either with a colleague or a client, discussing your work or being hired to do some.
We could farm a lot of lore this way and then use the stronger characters to actually affect the world in a bigger scale.

>>6359998
>Roy, The Great Detective
3) You are alone in the forest, barely armed, and pursued by something very dangerous.

>>6359998
>Roy, The Great Detective
3) You are alone in the forest, barely armed, and pursued by something very dangerous.
Secret sounds interesting.

>>6359998
>Oliver, The Stargazer
>1) You are having a professional meeting, either with a colleague or a client, discussing your work or being hired to do some.

Cool concept by the way, OP. I'm looking forward to this!

>>6359998
>Magda, The Tiger Widow
>2) You are enjoying some of your leisure time, or perhaps not enjoying it very much; either way, you're free for the moment and in the middle of doing whatever it is you do when not busy with work.

My typing fingers are itching, so I am gonna give it another hour or two before I use dice to break the tie, forgive my impatience; already feels nice to have four votes in a couple hours. I am really excited for this one!

>>6360051
Thank you, but I can only take so much credit - this is inspired heavily by 'Summerland', a kind of obscure TTRPG that used to pop up in certain /tg/ threads. I kept the overnight primeval forest and apocalypse elements, but made it more diverse and alive, and made a lot of adjustments to the rest - I didn't care for the main dynamic or themes of being mentally ill and hoping to mend that in order to reintegrate with human society. I think having the corrupting urge to enter the forest should be its own thing, and felt that the survivor communities would be the ideal setting for a wider array of stories. Will the community even make it long term? Will our characters seek positions of political power? It's conceivable that all three of them ascend to the Tribunal if that's what players want. What is the culture like? What conflicts are you having inside the walls that you couldn't have outside? Etc etc.

>>6359998
>Oliver, The Stargazer
>3) You are alone in the forest, barely armed, and pursued by something very dangerous.

>>6359998
>Magda, The Tiger Widow
>1) You are having a professional meeting, either with a colleague or a client, discussing your work or being hired to do some.

>>6359998
>Magda, The Tiger Widow
>2) You are enjoying some of your leisure time, or perhaps not enjoying it very much; either way, you're free for the moment and in the middle of doing whatever it is you do when not busy with work.

>Oliver, The Stargazer
1) You are having a professional meeting, either with a colleague or a client, discussing your work or being hired to do some.

The people are chomping at the bit for the female custodes.

Wanna write, gotta do shit, ain't that just the way?

Calling our first vote!

>4 Oliver
>3 Magda
>2 Roy

>4 Meeting
>3 pursuit
>2 Playtime

We will begin with Oliver, and a Work Meeting!

Meanwhile...

Magda will be taking some time to herself to have a few drinks over a game of cards with a few of the other security personnel.
and...
Roy will have a near-lethal encounter with Something in the Neverending Woods.

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Your name is Oliver Thomas Mottley, and despite the perpetual golden dusk that hangs overhead, the time is actually 10:43 AM EST. You have 17 minutes until your meeting with Henry Langdon, the Commander for BC's Security Office, a sizeable militia that maintains the peace, administrates scavenger runs, and defends the city against both bandits and animals alike. To return to your office ahead of his arrival will be just a short walk from where you are now, Miss Jordan's first tier classroom, standing by the whiteboard. You've just finished help teach a lesson about the different anatomy of plants, the seed cycle, and photosynthesis. This used to be the Oak Sitting Room, situated between the bedrooms of Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt on the second story. Now, all three rooms constitute BC's community school. The coffered walls are covered with children's art, educational diagrams, and encouraging posters. Bookshelves are cluttered with what could be salvaged from libraries or traded for with merchants, and warm light streams in the windows, though there are candles on sconces along the wall to provide extra illumination. The kids all sit on cushions along the floor, looking up at you with equal parts awe and curiosity.

There are twenty two children here altogether, ranging in age from 6 to 9. None of them can remember a world before the Bloom, though they have no shortage of questions about what it was like. Your past as a prodigy in the fields of astronomy and astrophysics - that is, stars that the children only barely remember, if they do it all, and can only now view in pictures - makes you not entirely unlike a wizard in their wide eyes.

"Ok everyone, let's say thank you to Mr. Mottley for taking the time to visit today and help with our lesson!" Miss Jordan instructs, rising up from her desk in the front corner of the chamber, next to the fireplace. The children all shout out their thanks in unison, some of them smiling, others distractedly looking out the windows or art on the walls even as they comply with her request.

>Cont'd

You smile, and nod back. "Of course, any time, guys! Happy to see you!" You say, you tug at the color of the striped mock neck sweater you have on, and then put your hands into the pockets of your pants. When things have quieted down, Miss Jordan approaches to stand near you at the head of the class. She is in her early fifties, with salt and pepper hair done in a messy shag, wearing cargo pants, a tank top, and a denim jacket, over her sleight frame. She's got a red bandana tied around her neck, and a kabar combat knife sheathed on her hip, and on her feet, black leather boots a bit older than your own finish the outfit.

She clasps her hands in front of her and speaks up again. "Before he leaves and we dismiss class, can you guys show him what we learned last week? I'm gonna keep drilling these as we learn more across the quarter, so I'll be asking a lot. Who can tell me the first Law of The Jungle, and what does it mean?" She inquires.

A fair-skinned little boy with a bright blonde bowl cut is the first to raise his hand, and she points to him. "The Rule of Three! It means you never go in the woods without at least two other people!" He says confidently.

"Very good, Jake!" She reaches in a pocket and then tossed him a stale hard candy in a strawberry-styled wrapper. "What about the second?" She asks, scanning the group.

A dark-skinned girl with braids full of multi-colored pastel beads shoots her arm up excitedly, and Miss Jordan picks her next. "It's Only End What You Tend." She answers.

Miss Jordan nods and smiles. "That's exactly right, Imani, and what does that mean?"

"It means you never kill a plant that wasn't planted by a person, or tended by one for a long time... You can harvest but if you kill the plant you get hurt." She follows up. The teacher throws her what looks to be a butterscotch. It's impossible to hear the second Law recited without certain images coming to mind, even if you rather they wouldn't: men with stumps on their wrists because they cut down trees before learning about the risk, or a child with a missing foot because she stepped on a particularly delicate flower. A lot of the foliage is surprisingly resilient in the Neverending Woods, but it's still possible to make a mistake.

>Cont'd

Miss Jordan pulls out one last piece of candy, a Hershey's kiss that is probably more than a little stale, but still a rare treat. "Ok guys, one more, the third law is?"

She calls on one of the older students, a slightly larger girl with orange hair going down her back and taped-together glasses with green frames. "The Five Hour Limit... Someone that's alone in the woods for longer than five hours is an enemy of the city, and can't be trusted, no matter what." She says, catching the candy just after. Only a couple of the students here probably have a full idea of why that law was written by the Admin Council all those years ago. But it, like all the Laws of The Jungle, was decided to preserve the precious sanctity of Biltmore City and protect it's people.

"Very, very good, Sam! That's correct." Miss Jordan says cheerily. "Ok, great job today, everyone! Go ahead and clear your cubbies and form a line in the hall, we're gonna move on to outside learning, recess, and lunch." She adds, and as the children get up and start gathering their things, she touches your back to get your attention and smiles. "Thank you again, Oliver, the kids are obsessed with you, and it really helps keep them attentive. I know you're very busy, so it means the world to me and them."

You withdraw a hand to scratch at the back of your neck and head sort of coyly. "Oh, please, I love these guys too, don't mention it Kate. Will I see you and Howie at the screening tonight?" You ask.

She nods, and pats your shoulder. "Yes! Absolutely! He might of told you, but we met at a Halloween party where he was dressed as the guy with the, the, uh, chest-burster, thing - he made it out of foam and red food coloring and glue, sticking out of his shirt, oh my lord! I showed up dressed as Sigourney Weaver, we were married by the end of the year!" She chuckles, and then pulls you in for a quick hug. "Ok, don't let me hold you up anymore. Let's just do a nightcap after the movie or something, alright?" She says. It was your turn to pick this week's adult movie, and you chose the original Alien film, having never seen it before - back when you had the chance, you were either too young, too busy studying, or both.

>Cont'd

"Ok, ok, great, sounds perfect!" You replied, glad for the invitation. Katie and Howard are a fair bit older than yourself, but some of your better friends. She had done work as a substitute teacher pre-Bloom, but actually had two degrees in physics and mathematics, and Howard used to be a college professor with a doctorate in chemical engineering. Not everyone can keep up with you in an intellectual conversation, and the two of them are some of the rare exceptions.

Thinking of stimulating conversation, you stepped out into the corridor and began moving along to your private office. Conversations with Commander Langdon are always stimulating affairs for you, because...

Select One:

>You are best friends. You saved his life when he nearly fell through the collapsing floor of the Pisgah Observatory where you first met. He was doing research for NASA, having been an air force pilot in the 90's and almost astronaut.
>You have a distant relationship, rarely speaking at length, and unbeknownst to him, his wife Sarah has been cheating on him with you for over a year.
>You are bitter enemies, you disagree broadly on political matters and find each other's personalities grating. You've seen him abuse his power, and your attempts to hold him accountable have led to threats both veiled and direct.
>Write-in

If you don't choose for your affair to be with Langdon's wife, you will have an opportunity later to decide which other member of the Tribunal your paramour is married to - the Mayor or the Judge. There are benefits and disadvantages (some more obvious than others, like Langdon controlling the militia) to each of the three.

>>6360216
>You are best friends. You saved his life when he nearly fell through the collapsing floor of the Pisgah Observatory where you first met. He was doing research for NASA, having been an air force pilot in the 90's and almost astronaut
While him being the most direct threat would maybe make for an easier- opponent to deal with directly, having SecOff on our side is very appealing, too.

>>6360216
>You are best friends. You saved his life when he nearly fell through the collapsing floor of the Pisgah Observatory where you first met. He was doing research for NASA, having been an air force pilot in the 90's and almost astronaut.
Guy who controls the guns is de facto ruler anyway, let's be friends with him.

>>6360216
>You are best friends. You saved his life when he nearly fell through the collapsing floor of the Pisgah Observatory where you first met. He was doing research for NASA, having been an air force pilot in the 90's and almost astronaut.

>>6360216
>You are bitter enemies, you disagree broadly on political matters and find each other's personalities grating. You've seen him abuse his power, and your attempts to hold him accountable have led to threats both veiled and direct.

>>6360216

>>6360216
>You are best friends. You saved his life when he nearly fell through the collapsing floor of the Pisgah Observatory where you first met. He was doing research for NASA, having been an air force pilot in the 90's and almost astronaut.

Fucker ate my post

>>6360216
>>You are best friends. You saved his life when he nearly fell through the collapsing floor of the Pisgah Observatory where you first met. He was doing research for NASA, having been an air force pilot in the 90's and almost astronaut.

>>6360216
>>You are bitter enemies, you disagree broadly on political matters and find each other's personalities grating. You've seen him abuse his power, and your attempts to hold him accountable have led to threats both veiled and direct.

>>6360216
>You are best friends. You saved his life when he nearly fell through the collapsing floor of the Pisgah Observatory where you first met. He was doing research for NASA, having been an air force pilot in the 90's and almost astronaut.

>>6360216
>You are best friends. You saved his life when he nearly fell through the collapsing floor of the Pisgah Observatory where you first met. He was doing research for NASA, having been an air force pilot in the 90's and almost astronaut.
Sarah is too old, where da trophy wives at?

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Calling the vote (7 besties/2 enemies), working on the writeup now, wanna test something.

>>6360448
Not great quality, but may be helpful for some of you.

>>6360216
>>You are bitter enemies, you disagree broadly on political matters and find each other's personalities grating. You've seen him abuse his power, and your attempts to hold him accountable have led to threats both veiled and direct.

>>6360448
How do people even *live* with such small halloween rooms? You can really tell we're in appalachia.

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Henry is one of your best friends. As you stride over to the nearby staircase you think back to how you met. He was part of a small team assigned to collect data at the Pisgah Astronomical Research Institute for NASA, where he was working after twenty combat missions with the U.S. Air Force during the first years of the Iraq war, and an advanced degree in astrophysics. You hit it off asking him questions when you met at the observatory, and when The Bloom took place, it was somehow you that saved his life by pushing him out of the way of falling debris. The two of you, along with a half dozen other survivors, were some of the first few to reach Biltmore Estate after hearing the radio transmission from Mayor Campbell and his group. Henry has since been like an older brother to you, you couldn't imagine having made it here without him, and you've seen firsthand how he's succeeded in protecting this community against overwhelming odds more than once. He's a major factor into how this place has made it this far.

Your office is located in the North Tower Room, on the third floor, directly above the part of the community school that's used as a combination office and lounge for the teachers. When you unlock the door and step inside, you take a deep, comforting breath of air that smells like books, paper, old wood, and brass. Half of the windows are shrouded by vines of Chinese wisteria, some of which has crept inside and along the ceiling to hang cascades of drooping flowers above like chandeliers, though you've sealed the breaches around their point of entry to keep bugs out. The leftmost window, however, is unobstructed and left open, showing the field of flowers on the West side of the mansion, and the treeline beyond. Occasionally one tree protrudes dramatically from the canopy - a redwood, a towering baobab, or even something like a douglas fir or cherry that is inexplicably many times the natural height for such a plant. From this window, however, none obscure your view of the hazy, orange sunset that melts into pastel purples and blues high overhead. There are three telescopes poised together there, one an antique number crafted from brass, but the other two more modern both in shape and materials, including a stout, aluminum model that you managed to have recovered from UNCA.

>Cont'd

You've got a half dozen bookshelves here, crowded with reference books, textbooks, and binders of your own writing, all of the material organized by subject matter and date. Since settling here, you've become the de facto scientific expert for Biltmore City. You've advised on several major projects, and spearheaded others, frequently becoming an expert in whatever field is necessary to address a problem by reading scores of books and memorizing their contents. While the heavenly bodies will always be your first love, you now possess the combined educations of a mechanical engineer, metallurgist, chemist, biologist, and in a few more years of carefully curated study, probably a medical doctor as well. There are gaps, sure, but your insights are still very important to the management of this place. That's why the Admin Council gave you this entire room, and it's why Henry indulges your astronomical research with the occasional scavenging run for equipment that serves no purpose other than to study the endless enigma that is the sunset you're squinting at right now, or the stars, the weather, and other skybound mysteries that seem to be simply immutable.

It hasn't rained in five years, the temperature is never below 70, and never above 74, and the sun never moves. How do the wells and the creek and the pond never run out of water? How do the plants never die? How do they photosynthesize so well? How is gravity even functioning at all, is the Earth even rotating?

Your compulsion to figure out every part of this bizarre new world is insatiable, at times one might even say you approach it with the obsessive single-mindedness of a Green. It's probably the main thing that keeps you going.

You take a seat behind one of the two beautiful Victorian desks situated in the room, the one that is relatively less cluttered with documents and lenses than the other, though still rather messy. You start making an honest attempt at introducing some order, and the time begins to fly by. You're half startled when you hear a knock at the door, and Henry let's himself in, offering you a friendly wave.

>Cont'd

He's wearing patched jeans, a white collared shirt, and over it a v neck olive commando sweater with epaulets and elbow patches that make him look like the security officer he is. There's a fat black radio on his left hip, the handle of a kukri poking out from behind him, where it's sheathed laterally at the small of his back, and on his right hip, a holstered Smith & Wesson model 627 V-Comp that looks plenty mean even just aimed at the floor. His facial hair is scruffy, but shorter than usual, with a few greying hairs starting to show that he's just entered his 40's. "Hey bud, how were the kids for you today?" He asks, drawing nearer and gesturing to the leather couch angled near your desk.

He steps past the velvet loveseat across from it when you nod in confirmation, and you return his greeting. "Oh hey, thanks for coming by. Uh, yes, yeah the kids were great, they were awesome. Learning the Laws of The Jungle right now. I was helping with the lesson on plant anatomy. It was good. Maybe when I'm older and I have less work to do around here I'll just focus on the school program, there's something about it especially, you know, that uh, well, idunno, just makes this all seem that much more worth it. It reminds you why it all matters so much..." You trail off, letting your gaze wander back towards the open window.

"I think this place could hardly ask for a better brain to be teaching it's children, my friend. But I don't know if I'd hold my breath about there ever being less work to do." He smirks, settling comfortably into the corner of the couch nearer your desk. "And I'm always glad to visit, so no need to thank me. Excited for the movie tonight, too! Back when I had dreams of being an astronaut, I'd have nightmares about something getting into the ship with me... It's a great film, I know you're gonna love it. All that said, I feel pretty confident you didn't ask for this meeting to discuss movies. What is it you wanted to talk about?"

Select One:

>I want to discuss my proposal for that scavenging mission I mentioned before, just hear me out, I think it could take my research to the next level and maybe produce some real answers.
>I want to discuss something Strange I saw in the forest yesterday, I think you need to know about it as the BCSO Commander.
>I want to discuss the community, I have finished reports on some of the things you were curious about - our supply of food, energy, and medicine.

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Forgot pic
>Henry

>>6360452
Fucking KEK

Also, couple of updates deep so first check in: are these updates feeling too lengthy, or are the passages too dense? I can break up the text a bit more and be more concise if it'd make the reading easier, but I am kind of just Vibing & Describing right now as I start getting us up to ramming speed. I think they seem normal for the board but figured I would ask; got today and tomorrow off, not much better to do than gab with my questions and write updates.

>>6360475
I meant to say Questoids but autocorrect does not like that word KEK

>>6360468
>I want to discuss the community, I have finished reports on some of the things you were curious about - our supply of food, energy, and medicine.
It would be good to know some of this. Like, getting wood for charcoal without killing trees. Without being able to cut raw timber we likely have to build out of fired brick, as well as fabricating other basic goods from ceramics. Charcoal is probably a massive part of the economy. How stable is our food supply? Where do fibers for clothing come from? How *do* we know the water isn't going to dry up suddenly one day?

>>6360468
>I want to discuss something Strange I saw in the forest yesterday, I think you need to know about it as the BCSO Commander.

>>6360478
>How *do* we know the water isn't going to dry up suddenly one day?
The rest can be answered in game (perhaps concisely now, or perhaps gradually over time), but I will indulge this question directly - you don't know that the water won't dry up. The sun could start turning any minute, or could even just get closer and swallow you all up. It could rain for forty days and forty nights. That's one of the big things that people struggle with; the trauma of having seen things change in ways they shouldn't be able to, suddenly, and without notice or even a familiar logic to explain the mere possibility of the new status quo. All you can do is keep living and hope that everything doesn't get turned on it's head again, in a totally new way.

>>6360468
>I want to discuss my proposal for that scavenging mission I mentioned before, just hear me out, I think it could take my research to the next level and maybe produce some real answers.
Our first and greatest love, she calls!

>>6360475
They're a t a god length IMO, but I'm also a wordy motherfucker so take that with a grain of salt, lol.

>>6360496
It's a phenomenally spooky setting, QM.

>>6360468
>I want to discuss something Strange I saw in the forest yesterday, I think you need to know about it as the BCSO Commander.

>>6360468
>>I want to discuss the community, I have finished reports on some of the things you were curious about - our supply of food, energy, and medicine.

>>6360448
The only reason I know of this estate is because of the Serafina books, frankly.
>>6360468
>I want to discuss the community, I have finished reports on some of the things you were curious about - our supply of food, energy, and medicine.

>>6360448
Anon, I just want to share with you the rabbit hole this image has taken me. I saw it, thought thought that an image like it could be useful for an rpg I'm running, then saw that for some reason the source of it is a website called HogwartsCampus. So I went to it, but the domain is bust. I went to the Wayback Machine, discovered that it has simply been moved to the creator's main website, which I went to.

And found myself in a tiny corner of the internet that hasn't been updated since 2007.

It has the floorplan of plenty other places that the author has autisted into being by scrutinizing movies (like Hogwarts), or just by "modernizing" old castles, almost two decades ago. Not only that, the author also made music, wonderfully 2004's music, in a website that tells us all about how he was a child prodigy that began composing when he was 12.

There is only one problem: While he has some of his music in the website, there is nowhere to download or even buy his cds. There is also no other sign of this fucker's work anywhere else in the internet I could find. So I spent the last several hours scouring the wayback machine to see how much of his music I could find, and listening to it, which reminded me of an old nonsensical RPG Maker game called The Way, whose name I couldn't remember, which then I spent some more time searching for, which is why it is now five in the morning.

Thank you for this wonderful bit of autism, anon, it was a lovely distraction from the work I should have already done. And, of course,

>I want to discuss my proposal for that scavenging mission I mentioned before, just hear me out, I think it could take my research to the next level and maybe produce some real answers.

Because that's the one that will probably get us more lore about wtf is going on in this world

>>6360468
>I want to discuss something Strange I saw in the forest yesterday, I think you need to know about it as the BCSO Commander.

>>6360639
You have a link to the music?

Rolled 2 (1d2)

Community = 1
Something Strange = 2

Also, while I'm writing today, you guys ought to make some suggestions for who should be depicting Roy Harris and Magdalene Pickett. I was thinking maybe Tom Phelphrey or Wilson Bethel for Roy? Lakeith Stanfield maybe? And for Magda I'm just not very sure. Was considering Mackenzie Davis, specifically from her role in that terminator film where she has short hair. This is a callback to my days of playing/running MUSH/MUX games, where it's common practice to use IRL actors or people to represent characters for the wiki. So! Fancast away, guys, I might put it up to a vote if you guys get contentious about it but I will probably just pick whichever one feels the most right to me for who they are - a charismatic, fast-talking nut job, and a highly lethal, reserved (and sometimes short-fused) badass respectively.

>>6360639
Also also this fucking rules dude, post links, or I will later when I have the time to find this shit, sounds baller as hell.

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>>6360775
Maybe Paul Rudd for Roy? Specifically from that one film where he looked the right kind of unkempt for a guy that lives in a post-apocalyptic forest? Idunno, I gotta run some errands, should have an update tonight.

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>>6360775
Here's Magda

>>6360775
Norm Macdonald for both. ;)

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>>6360775
>reserved badass with attitude problem

You just described Emily Blunt in Edge of Tomorrow perfectly.

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"You're right, yeah... I wanted to..." You continue to trail off, hesitating. Unsure how to relay what's on your mind. You squint, and then shift your gaze away from the window and back to Henry. You frown and sigh through your nose. "Look, what I... Idunno, sorry, this is just... I saw something yesterday, and I felt you needed to know. It's going to sound... It'll sound kind of ridiculous, but I was looking through one of the telescopes at the treeline, I do sometimes ever since the leopard sighting a year ago-" You start to say.

"What, another one? Should've just said so, Ollie, we'll get a crew out an-" Henry cuts you off to jump on the problem, but he stops when you shake your head and hold up your hands, shutting it down.

"No, not that. Different..." You lean back in your chair and your brow furrows as you look back towards the window again, unable to even fully maintain eye contact as you recollect what you'd seen. "The cypress tree, slightly Northwestern edge of the flowers, I think it's a Saharan cypress, with the wide trunk, you know the one?"

He nods, leaning forward now with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together.

You sigh again, and finally look back to Henry as you speak. "Yesterday afternoon, maybe a touch after 3 or so, I noticed a knife buried in the trunk. It was a steel dagger, double edged. Kind of like a stiletto, I suppose. Concerned me, so I looked closer, I was about to grab my radio, thought it might be a threat, but... I looked closer, and I saw it was moving. Like the blade was dragging along the tree. Then it stabbed in again, just wedged there for a couple of seconds. Then it came out of the trunk and it... It floated away. I don't know how or why, but it floated away, off deeper into the woods. I'm sure that's what I saw, Henry, I know it is. I was afraid to say sooner, I don't want to cause a panic. There are logs showing all my times outside the border, showing I never go alone, I'm not going Green, I'm not losing my mind. But I mean, I just, idunno, it's.. it doesn't make any sense. Not that there aren't a thousand other things that don't make sense anymore, mind you, but I've, you know, I've never seen something just move through the air like that, as if it has a mind of its own. I don't know what it means, I just need you to believe me, ok? I know what I saw." You get a little frantic as you lay it out, perfectly aware of the risks of appearing to have lost your sanity under the circumstances, perfectly aware of how delusional you sound.

>Cont'd

For his part, Henry nods along, listening carefully as you speak. When you finish, he lets a pause hang, looking to the floor with his own brow furrowed as he puzzles over what you've shared. Your mouth is dry and there's a heavy pit in your stomach that makes you feel cold as you await his response. Finally, he looks back to you with an eyebrow quirked. "You still have the telescope trained on that tree?" He asks.

"Y-yeah, yes, I, uh, I didn't want to move it, just in case. Look for yourself." You reply, stammering a little, and you gesture over towards the window. "It's the plastic one in the middle, the black one. I've checked it since. I haven't seen the dagger again." You add.

He nods, rising from his seat and stepping over in that direction. "Have you told anyone else about this yet, or am I the first?" He asks, glancing over his shoulder as he approaches the instrument.

You shake your head. "No, you're really the only one I'd trust to take me seriously... I really don't want to cause alarm, I don't know what it means..." You reply, words trailing off once more.

"Understood. Well, first of all, I do believe you, Oliver. Stranger things have happened, have they not? I recall that being why you have this lab." Henry replies, bending over and pressing his eye to the lens in order to see the tree in question. "I don't know what it means either. But I don't like it. I see the tree... I wanna go check it out. Why don't you come with me?"

Select One:

>Are you sure that's safe? I think you should send security officers instead and have them report back.
>I'm game. I think it may have been carving something into the bark... I want to know what exactly that would be...
>Write-in

>>6361018
>We should bring the Tiger-Widow

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>>6360943
I wish she was more muscular, but that might be a perfect fit, pic related is Mackenzie giving a strong Magda vibe, too.

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>>6360817
You joke but... Norm as Roy? Only problem is a lack of good pictures. This is a 32 year old who is going on 40 due to stress, smoking, and probably a few other things besides.

>>6361018
>>I'm game. I think it may have been carving something into the bark... I want to know what exactly that would be...

>>6361042
Im down for this, I love Norm.

>>6361018
>I'm game. I think it may have been carving something into the bark... I want to know what exactly that would be...

>>6360639
Ok now you're activating my autism, can u pls send a link?

>>6361018
>I'm game. I think it may have been carving something into the bark... I want to know what exactly that would be...

>>6361018
>I'm game. I think it may have been carving something into the bark... I want to know what exactly that would be...

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>>6361018
>>I'm game. I think it may have been carving something into the bark... I want to know what exactly that would be...

>>6361023
Plenty of images of ripped Emily Blunt

>>6361018
>I'm game. I think it may have been carving something into the bark... I want to know what exactly that would be...
We ain't no coward.

>>6361227
Oh that one is perfect! Thanks anon(:

Waffling on Norm-Roy, I just feel I need something more... Unkempt...

Anyhow, calling the vote, working on update, thanks all!

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>>6361240
Might I suggest Owen Wilson, then?

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>>6361250
Not bad... The problem I run into is finding a guy that looks like or is young enough to have had an infant daughter 5 years ago - so no older than late 30's but probably younger. But he also has to look a little like shit, which I can at least use to explain away maybe using an actor that's in his 40's, yaknow? I'm not married to the short little description up at the top, he doesn't have to be 33 exactly. I'ma peruse some Owen, I think that might do. Still, Wilson Bethel in this pic kinda hits the right number I think! Will keep thinking on it for now, not in a rush since we got plenty more Oliver time for now.

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You freeze up at the notion for just a moment, more afraid than anything that you'll join him only to discover together that there is no trace of a blade having been wedged in the cypress' bark. But you shake your head as if to banish the thought with centrifugal force. "Oh, uh, sure. The way it moved at first, it may have carved something, into the tree, that is. I'll bring a digital camera." You say, opening a drawer on the desk to withdraw one of a few such devices, an old Canon PowerShot A5 - a little silver brick with some scuffs on it, but a lens you repaired yourself. The battery is on the other side of the drawer, charged using a hand-crank generator you threw together a few years ago, and waiting to be used.

"I think a good idea. Grab your gun, too. We're not gonna go into the forest, and it'll be just the two of us for now while we check this out, so let's play it safe." Henry says, stepping back from the plastic telescope in the middle of your array. He nods towards the door and begins walking that way while you unlock another drawer and pull out a compact M1911 knockoff chambered in 9mm, more scuffed up than the camera. But it has a slim profile, a recoil you can manage, and while you're a downright lousy shot you have managed to defend yourself with this firearm on a few occasions - which you vastly prefer to the rarer moment when you've been forced to rely on a blade. You tuck the gun into the holster inside of your waistband behind your back, close the drawer, and follow out behind Henry as he steps over the threshold.

He waits as you re-lock the door to your private office. "So while we head that way, talk to me a little bit about energy, would you? I caught Hector at breakfast, he said the install was no headaches, where does that put us?"

Henry is referring to Hector Mendoza, the de facto foreman for most construction projects around BC, and specifically in this case, the installation of some fresh solar panels that were scavenged by a crew last week.

>Cont'd

You nod, following him to the staircase nearby. "Right, we're doing well, this most recent install puts us just shy of 200 Kilowatt-hours in output from solar. Ethanol production is still low, but gas reserves are holding from scavenger runs. Charcoal production is starting to dip. There's essentially no dead wood left in an accessible radius. Occasionally an animal will snap a branch, but it just isn't a feasible source of fuel. I'm sure you heard about Barry?" You pause your rundown to ask a question you already know the answer to.

Henry sighs and nods slowly, looking pained. You both step out onto the second floor, and brush past a handful of others on their way up, and a couple more residents that are loitering in the corridor as they chat about animal tracks, you think, but you keep your focus on your friend as he leads you to another set of stairs leading down. "Yeah, heard about Barry. They said he tried to coppice an Oak?" He confirms, glancing back at you briefly. "He was reading about it in that arborist's manual. Stupid."

"Well, it was a nice thought. Pollarding has always been slow going and slow growing. But, yes, he stressed it too much, and it died..." You trail off.

"And now Barry will never know the joy of playing the guitar." He replies with another exasperated sigh.

You scrunch your face. "Try not to be so glib, he meant well... But, well, well yes. His hands... Fell off. It's been a long time since we had one, and it seems to have frightened the pollarding crew, about nine have already rescinded and want reassignment with precedence, citing the risk they already took with prior volunteering. Even if we replace them all this week w-"

Henry cuts you off as you step out onto the first floor now. "We'll have to up our purchase of coal from The Union, of course, as if we don't already send them enough of our fucking food, Jesus." He complains. "We might have to start turning away refugees this year, Ollie. It's getting tight."

>Cont'd

You both step around a corner and he leads you through what was once the Biltmore's banquet hall, which is now the barracks and partial armory for the Security Office. There are cots all over, rifle racks and gun lockers along the walls, some free weights, hard plastic military footlockers and a couple of Pelican field desks where security officers are oiling and reassembling firearms. There are a few metal overhead lights, and occasionally a candle to supplement, both of which cast severe-looking shadows on the severe faces of the men and women that keep BC safe. Towards the far corner is a card table in the corner where a few roughnecks appear to be playing poker. A woman with a necklace of large fangs and claws over her kevlar vest seems to feel you looking at her from across the room, and her eyes rise from her hand of cards to meet your gaze. Her stare has an edge that could cut glass, and so you quickly look away and hasten your stride to stay near Henry while you move through and into the main atrium of the old manor.

A tulip poplar which, by appearance, could easily be 500 years old given it's massive diameter (pushing up against a staggering twelve feet), reaches up from the middle of the now ironically named 'Winter Garden', a greenhouse situated mostly in the interior of the front of the mansion. It's actually only five years old, of course, and the ceiling of the greenhouse is still totally shattered so that the tree can stretch up properly to the heavens, swaying in the dusk. From here you can see the bottom of the 'treehouse' that acts as the city's primary watchtower, and the bridges leading to it from the upper floors and rooftop. The open roof would be a problem if it ever rained or got particularly cold. Even birds and rodents aren't a problem here, however, due to the residence of a few dozen semi-domesticated cats all around the estate.

You pick the conversation back up when Henry holds the front door open for you, and you both step by the East guards and plenty of other people coming and going from various parts of the estate. "Speaking of The Union, we're expecting a group from them tomorrow. I did already advise Erin that she should place a larger order and start looking at our potato stores, they seem particularly glad to trade for those. Do you... Well, should we tell them about the... The knife?" You draw closer and practically whisper the last part, casting a few furtive glances around so as to be sure you aren't overheard.

"I think not. Maybe if we have an idea of what we're dealing with." Henry replies evenly. A beat passes. "First we have to see if you're even sane." He claps you on the shoulder and smirks, then upnods in the direction you're both going, around the building.

>Cont'd

The poplar behind you is the only truly massive tree to have sprouted up under the foundation of the mansion proper; the three others were not large enough to cause any catastrophic damage. Moving Southwards at a brisk pace together, you see the branches of the Southern live oak growing out of the corner of old first floor of the the library come into view, gnarled arms reaching for the forest, laden with Spanish moss and creeping vines. The tree growth on the estate property is likewise on the sparse side, favoring larger, solitary trees with ferns or grass sprawling beneath and between. The canopy is more bare in turn, and casts a lattice of faint shadows from the sunlight that beams over the mansion.

All of the open space is capitalized upon by tents, yurts, lean-to's, and three longhouses constructed from a mix of pre-Bloom timber and corrugated steel. Campfires and workstations fill the gaps like the mortar of a brick wall, and dozens of people bustle by each other here. Roughly half of BC's people stay out here, and very nearly all of them gladly; it's one of the safest encampments in the region. Taking these together with the residents of the mansion, the current population of Biltmore City is today an exact 282 citizens, including yourself. It is, frankly, an almost inconceivable number, given the circumstances of the world. It poses a lot of tremendous challenges. There are bad weeks, sometimes bad months, and you lose people. But it's still a tremendous accomplishment, as well.

Henry turns the knob on his radio and lifts it up to his face. "Top Gun to Crow's Nest, put eyes on the South lawn, scan the Northwest treeline, over." He instructs, waving for you to stay close as you both step under one of those oak branches and around the building.

SHKRSH "CN-2 copies, Top Gun." Responds the device before he puts it back on his hip.

>Cont'd

"You think Tim can hit a knife from up there?" You ask a little incredulously.

The commander doesn't look back at you, but you can tell he rolls his eyes by the way his head moves. "No, numb-nuts, that's for the fucking leopard. God damn thing must've been 800 pounds." At this, Henry does turn briefly to give you a certain wry look, but then turns ahead and shakes his head again. "When we're through with this, what do you have planned for the rest of the day before the screening tonight? I've got lunch with the Mayor, after that was gonna spend my break doing some drinks and darts with P.K. and John Stoker over at the usual watering hole, they might be running late but you're welcome to warm up a bar stool for one of em', or hang if you're feeling social for once."

Select One:

>I need to finish compiling reports and transcribing some old notes for a current project, so I'll be in my office.
>I have a date scheduled for this afternoon, actually, so I can't make it. No, my girlfriend isn't imaginary just because you haven't met her.
>I need to finish compiling reports and transcribing some old notes for a current project, so I'll be in my office. (LIE: You actually have a date scheduled but are keeping that to yourself).
>Sure, I think I could do with a stiff drink and hanging out with a friend today.
>Write-in

>>6361374
I mean this to be WEST lawn, excuse me, I got turned around.

>>6361375
>I need to finish compiling reports and transcribing some old notes for a current project, so I'll be in my office. (LIE: You actually have a date scheduled but are keeping that to yourself).
Maybe with the Mayor's wife, since he's busy...

>>6361375
>I need to finish compiling reports and transcribing some old notes for a current project, so I'll be in my office. (LIE: You actually have a date scheduled but are keeping that to yourself).

>>6361375
>I need to finish compiling reports and transcribing some old notes for a current project, so I'll be in my office.

>>6361375
>I need to finish compiling reports and transcribing some old notes for a current project, so I'll be in my office. (LIE: You actually have a date scheduled but are keeping that to yourself).

>>6361375
>>I have a date scheduled for this afternoon, actually, so I can't make it. No, my girlfriend isn't imaginary just because you haven't met her.

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>>6361375
>I need to finish compiling reports and transcribing some old notes for a current project, so I'll be in my office. (LIE: You actually have a date scheduled but are keeping that to yourself).

282 people * .6 working age = 170 workers * 4.5 hours/day = 765 working hours per day
(3060 labor hours per week @ 4 day work week)
(12,240 labor hours per lunar month @ 16 work days per 29.5 days)
Hey OP do we still have phases of the moon? Is the council using any method to enforce work or are there free riders and I-got-mine-jacks not contributing sufficiently to the collective?

Human physiological needs: air, thermal equilibrium, shelter, water, bathroom/hygeine, food, clothing, sleep, security/stability.
-Air: Not constrained
-Thermal equilibrium: Not constrained
-Water: A single 1 HP wellhead can provide 300 people with 10 gallons of water daily for 18 KWh/day (the average american supposedly uses 38 gallons per day from faucets, toilets, and showers so if the council is not rationing water you'll probably need 4x this amount. Livestock also need to drink and could be another 2x-10x if they're not drinking from a creek)
-Bathroom: Latrines aren't too hard, if unpleasant. Easy upgrade to a septic system with some earthworks. Nitrate bearing soil is where gunpowder comes from, too.
-Food: 300 people at 3000 calories per day require 900,000 calories/day
-Clothing: Unknown
-Sleep: Provided by shelters
-Security/Stability: Provided by the wise and benevolent council

>Cont'd

>>6361534
Shelters can be made of brick with shingle rooves. John Plant (primitive technology) makes 50 bricks at a time with what I will guestimate is 360 pounds of wood. 4800 bricks would be needed to make simple brick dwellings. Almost 100 cycles. 36,000 pounds of wood. 24 labor hours for a two man team to lay the bricks, 20 labor hours to clear and level the ground, 36 labor hours to collect the wood @ 1000 pounds per hour, guessing an early medium scale clay refining operation with hand tools would be 120 labor hours for a total of 200 labor hours per person plus 20% tip for inefficiencies and miscellania = 220. If each bunkhouse has 4 rooms (8ft x 10ft) and an 80ft*ft foyer and hallway, and you put 2 people to a room, that's 8 people per bunkhouse or 36 bunkhouses or about 10 days at full employment. It would also consume 14,500 ft*ft of campus area or about a third of an acre.

An acre of corn would provide enough calories for only 17.4 days, but since the sun never sets and you can probably farm 3 crops a year, let's triple that to 52 days meaning you'd need 7 acres of really well managed and rotated crop land, plus I'm gonna say 4 acres minimum for chicken tractors and 4 acres for dairy animals (sheep and goats)

The only real mandatory power draw besides the wellheads is cooking. A fast food restaurant uses 16 KWh/day on cooking and 32 KWh/day on freezers and refrigerators. Combined with the wellhead needs that's 120 KWh/day in power generation needs. Thankfully we don't need any lighting, cooling, or heating. Charging 282 smartphones or tablets is 10 KWh/day. A 220 volt drill press backwards engineered as a windmill turbine that got 33% of full capacity per day on average would generate 12.3KWh/day so you would need 11 windmills and a hefty battery bank to power everything if no rationing takes place. More if you use artificial lighting.

>No one asked.
But I enjoy this.

>>6361534
>>6361535
Woh...

>>6361534
I am going to continue to mainly address these questions through gameplay, but there are some questions here that may be best answered directly now:

>do we still have phases of the moon?
No, it hasn't risen above the horizon since The Bloom. Oliver's best telescope, which he got a year ago, has allowed him to study cloud formations, but he doesn't have one capable of observing the stars at the moment. He believes with a powerful enough telescope, facing East, he may be able to see if there even still are stars, and if so, whether they are moving in relation to the Earth and what that might mean.
>Are there free riders?
Everyone contributes, it's kind of an anarchist compound and those that aren't willing to work are exiled - even the members of the Tribunal have to spend some time doing labor. Henry patrols and goes on runs, The Mayor hunts game, and The Judge gardens/farms. No one is forced to do a particular job, though if someone gets too picky and prissy and makes problems they have an evaluation meeting in front of the Admin Council, which if it goes badly, can lead to a trial before The Judge, at which point they CAN be punitively assigned to a task or possibly exiled. That's very uncommon though, most people are happy to do hard work for the benefits of being at BC. As referenced above, some jobs are more dangerous, and volunteering for them can come with extra privileges with labor - like a lower quota of labor hours overall, or getting priority placement when trying to be reassigned. Pollarding trees to produce wood for charcoal is very important, obviously, as it's used for energy and cooking, but if it isn't done carefully, the tree can die from stress or infection (IRL it's best to do this during Winter dormancy, but it is an eternal Summer now, so one must act accordingly). Everyone gets a basic allotment of food and leisure time, and one can work more to accrue more - go on an extra scab run, you get to keep more of what you find, grow extra crops, you get to keep them, etc.
>Shelters can be made...
To be clear, no one is being forced to sleep in tents. The main reason more solid shelters haven't been constructed is that all the time, energy, and resources going into it are better off elsewhere, because the weather is pleasant and on estate property it's quite rare for bandits or animals to get into the main camp to hurt anyone. Many of those using tents do so because they take them with them when going on hunting, scavenging, or trading runs (often requiring multi-day hikes with groups of 6 to 24 people). Eventually, it may be beneficial to invest more heavily in building stronger housing on the estate grounds, but that means building around the plant life in order to not inadvertently damage it too badly, yaknow?

Anyways, awesome posts, glad to have you, anon!

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>>6361381
>>6361413
>>6361448
>>6361534
It looks like lying takes the cake here, so I am going to call the vote.

This will initiate our first roll of the quest. All of our characters have 9 main Ability Modifiers which govern their ability to undertake certain tasks:
>Intelligence
>Wits
>Resolve
>Strength
>Dexterity
>Stamina
>Presence
>Manipulation
>Composure
These are split into two sets of categories. Mental, Physical, and Social, for type, and Power, Finesse, Resistance, for application. In this instance, Oliver is attempting to lie to his friend Henry about being busy with one thing, when really he is up to something else. This will be a test of his Manipulation, his ability to sound convincing when he tries to mislead someone, which in Oliver's case means a -5 penalty. Henry also knows him rather well, and is highly perceptive, which will apply another -5 penalty.

Roll 1d100-10, BO3

Rolled 95 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>6361552

>>6361553
OH HE'S SLICK WITH IT

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>>6361557

Rolled 63 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>6361552
Oof, hard number to follow.

Rolled 36 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>6361552

>>6361552
Recently caught up with this, like it. Reminds me of Over the Garden Wall.

With the plant retaliation do the repercussions happen seemingly magically such as a hand falling off with no visible cause? Or does the local flora retaliate? If so i think that most of the forest is in contact via a mycorrhizal network

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>>6361593
Good question - the plants do not move of their own volition in unnatural ways like that. If you kill a 'wild' (not planted or grown/tended by a person) plant, the offending appendage is severed from the body by unexplainable means. The hand(s) or feet are generally the main casualties, but if someone were to kill a wild plant. To an observer, it would appear that a peerlessly sharp, invisible guillotine has come down and cleanly, instantly removed the body part. To the victim, the severance itself is not actually painful, though of course one's nerve endings being exposed to the open air is extremely painful, and the blood loss can be lethal. A lot of the early people to learn this lesson firsthand have not survived very long, and BC currently has 14 residents that have lost limbs in such a way, including Barry. The parameters around what kind of tending is needed to avoid being hurt is still not fully understood, but experiments would obviously be unethical and damaging to the community. Trees planted by people before the Bloom can be harvested, as can ones that were cultivated as they grew. Plants that grew naturally on their own before the Bloom, however, are considered as 'wild' as anything produced entirely by the Bloom. The Pisgah National Forest, where BC is located, is now probably about 40% composed of plants that are pre-Bloom, with lots of foreign vines, ferns, moss, etc filling out the undergrowth in some places, and some foreign trees bursting up sporadically, especially in particularly large or manmade clearings and on trails. Some parts of the forest have a higher or lower percentage of pre or post Bloom flora, with a few spots seeming almost totally 'normal' for the region, and others being as alien and chaotically diverse as the full-Bloom forests that have toppled urban landscapes.

And thanks! Glad you're enjoying it! OTGW was a partial inspiration, actually. Lots of fairytale, fable, I am not sure how this shit works but it's all around me, big creepy forest stuff all swirling around in the blender on this one. Another major inspo, which I will continue to post, is the art of Hiro Isono!

>>6361599
>but if someone were to kill a wild plant
Part of my text got ate as I formatted!

If someone were to kill a plant with their teeth, or their forehead, for example, they would be decapitated.

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You shake your head. "Oh, uh, sorry, don't think I can be there. I budgeted some time today to really focus on fixing the microscope and logging a set of soil and water samples from the pond, just trying to keep a bead on contaminants and micro-ecology." You say, rattling off the whole affair readily. "I'll need quiet to focus, so I'll be in my office leading up to the film. Why do you think P.K. and Stoker will be running behind?" You finish, redirecting the conversation away from the lie you just told: you won't be tinkering with any microscopes or samples today, rather, you have a rendezvous planned with your secret paramour...

"Typical. Well, come through if you change your mind. As for the boys, I think they're gonna struggle to land anything on their hunt, and so they'll stay out a little longer. They should've hit the trail about half an hour ago or so." Henry replies as you both avoid tripping on the roots and vines growing across the steps of the South terrace.

You furrow your brow. "Why would they have trouble, weren't they both deer hunters even before all of this?"

He nods. "Yeah, they're solid, but you're forgetting that Barry was assigned to their hunting crew after Carlos got gored by that big ass boar half a year ago. He had to be replaced and they stuck that ex-detective weirdo with them, since he put in for reassignment from urban scav." Henry stops at the top of the landing briefly. "That guy, Harris, he bounces around between jobs every few months, yaknow? Sometimes weeks. I hear he has a side hustle using his skills to do private eye shit around the estate, seems to keep his attention better than gardening and cooking. Either way, he's not a great shot and has no hunting experience. Tracking animals isn't like tracking perps."

You both continue until you round the building and step onto the wooden deck that runs the length of the mansion's West side. It extends out a little over five yards from the property, with a barrier of cinder blocks and sandbags laid along its edge. There are a handful of security officers interspersed along this outer barrier, with rifles slung across their torsoes, a couple of them idly smoke cigarettes as they gaze out along the ocean of vibrantly colored flowers that carpet the West lawn.

>Cont'd

Tulips, hydrangeas, dahlias, orchids, lilies, dandelions, daffodils, dogbanes, larkspurs, and countless more, all in exotic varieties and an astonishing array of hues. You imagine taxonomizing and identifying them all could occupy a lifetime. The vision of healthy flowers from every corner of the world all blooming together is like a botanist's wildest fantasy. For your community, it is both an excellent resource and a terrible hazard.

You didn't see it happen, thankfully, but you and everyone else in BC have heard the story of Lou Warner many times: he tripped and fell into the field, and must have crushed a few especially frail flowers. It was not easy collecting the multiple pieces of his cadaver, and as a result, access to the area is carefully administrated.

From the back deck that runs the length of the mansion's West side, there are three boardwalks that extend out into the field. The North and South boardwalks both run across the full length of the field, and to the edge of the treeline where one can safely tread. Each of these is 8 feet wide. This forces anyone trying to approach from that side to narrow into single file lines, where they can be easily picked off, with the field itself acting as a sort of impassible moat.

The middle boardwalk is ten feet wide, and extended halfway, into the center of the field, where it terminates at a square platform that is ten yards by ten yards, surrounded also by sandbags and cinder blocks, creating an additional juncture from which defenders can fire on the treeline and the two boardwalks. This is not it's primary function, however, as this platform is BC's main apiary. There are ten very large hives and the insects are prodigal producers of honey and wax.

>Cont'd

Henry continues to lead the way, nodding to guards as you pass. His radio crackles to life again.

SHKRKSH "CN-2 to Top Gun, all quiet on the Western front, no movement. Over."

"Top Gun to Crow's Nest, copy that. Keep a visual as we walk the perimeter." The commander replies tersely. Still, the fingers of his right hand seem to itch around his holster a bit, and as you both proceed down the North boardwalk he keeps his head on a swivel, though it's hard to discern much detail from the forest's edges at this distance.

You're both quiet now, a certain familiar nervousness creeping up from the bottom of your feet like vines, engulfing you. When you get to the treeline and step off of the wood planks, he gestures North, and you both move along at a careful pace. You don't move too close to the field, for fear of tripping on a root or stone, a fact of like more than a mere accident when living in a forest. Neither do you move more than a pace beyond the first row of trees, out of the sight of the snipers watching over you both.

It isn't long before the cypress comes into view, a stout, strong looking specimen that would be at home atop a boulder in the African desert, though you doubt there are any deserts left. The mere proximity makes you shudder a bit. When you both step around to the side where you saw the blade, the both of you stop dead in your tracks. Henry crosses his arms and tenses his jaw. He shoots a glance off in the direction of the deeper woods, but only for a moment before snapping his attention back. For your part, you can't manage to do more than stare.

In the side of the trunk, two words have been carved by a sharp edge, punctuated appropriately at the end:

HOW MANY?

More troubling still... Just below this, the wood has grown a series of linear burls, it's unlike anything you've seen - they've formed in the shape of numbers, three of them, right next to each other to form one, you believe.

2 8 2

>Cont'd

For what feels like minutes, you both stand aside one another in contemplative silence. This is clearly no coincidence, of course. The question was about Biltmore City's population. The reason as to why a knife would want to know the population of a community is hard to guess, but if what they say about nails and hammers is any indication, you are imagining something violent. How a tree would be capable of answering is an equal mystery, but it makes your stomach turn even more.

Does the forest watch you all as you scurry about the estate?

Is it keeping count?

Seemingly, yes.

Why?

As ever, the questions foam up all around you and gnaw like hungry rats. You start to experience a cold sweat.

Henry breaks the silence by extending a hand towards you, still looking at the tree. "I'm gonna borrow the camera. I'll need to show Doug at lunch and bring in Elreta, too. Keep this under your hat for now, alright?" He says. "You were right to talk to me first. Folks might've thought you'd cracked up with the knife story. This, though? This will cause a panic. Could be raiders. Could be slavers. Mi-" You cut him off at this point.

"Raiders? Are you serious? How the hell would they get this kind of growth out of a tree? How would they do it in a day? Without anyone noticing? It's a miracle I had one of my telescopes trained this way, and I still almost missed it!" You reply, pressing him with questions, eyes squinted in confusion at the mere suggestion of a mundane explanation. "God, th-the, the implications are- I mean are these plants capable of cognitive thought, sentience? Are they cognizant of their growth patterns, capable of manipulating them, is communication possible? We, we should, I mean immediately we should have a resea-" You become frantic, pacing and gesticulating while your mind races at a breakneck speed, but this time Henry interrupts you, placing a hand firmly on your shoulder and causing you to look up at his face.

"Ollie. Stop." He says simply, his other hand extended again with his palm open for the camera. "We can deal with that later. Right now I need to document this. Then I need to have some meetings. You need to look at your soil samples and get ready for the movie screening. That's all we can do." He sighs, and gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Can I see the camera?"

>Cont'd

You take a few shaky breaths in and out through lips parted as though you're drinking through a straw, and slowly you nod. You reach into a pocket and hand him the scratched Canon, and he lets go of your shoulder.

"Thank you, buddy." He says.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Your hand trembles while you attempt to insert the key to your office door, but with a little fumbling you let yourself in and take one of those long comforting breaths. You feel a brush by your leg and see one of the stray cats has followed you in, a wirey grey tortoiseshell with part of her left ear missing, you call her Parmesan because of her fondness for cheese. She's one of the especially friendly, and talkative ones, and she rubs against your ankle again before smushing the sides of her face against your shoe a few times, purring loud.

You pick her up, and then close the door behind you, and exhale. "Mrrrerp." Says Parmesan when you stride over and park yourself on the couch by your desk. She wriggles from your arms to prowl along the back of the seat, over to the armrest where she comes to a stop just next to you, limbs tucked up and head out like a gargoyle.

You lean back and stare up at the ceiling, and the wisteria blossoms dangling above. You hold your wrist up so you can see your watch without having to move your head: 11:40 AM.

Your girlfriend will likely be here soon. It's going to be difficult to focus on a date, and you're considering hitting her with a rain check. But maybe it's exactly the distraction you need... Already your mind is beginning to wander from trees and knives to the smell of her hair... The way she grabs you...

Select One:

>Her name is Leonora Campbell, and she is the wife of Doug Campbell, who is the Mayor of Biltmore City. They married in 2 AB, in a lavish ceremony that the entire community participated in. You've been seeing each other, secretly, for almost eight months.
>Her name is Tory Drumwright, and she is the wife of Elreta Drumwright, who is the Judge of Biltmore City. They have been together for three years, but only married six months ago. She has been cheating on Elreta with you for just over a year, however.

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>>6361696
>Her name is Leonora Campbell, and she is the wife of Doug Campbell, who is the Mayor of Biltmore City. They married in 2 AB, in a lavish ceremony that the entire community participated in. You've been seeing each other, secretly, for almost eight months.

>>6361701
Fucking kek, you're a real gas to have in the thread, anon, thanks.

>>6361696
>Her name is Tory Drumwright, and she is the wife of Elreta Drumwright, who is the Judge of Biltmore City. They have been together for three years, but only married six months ago. She has been cheating on Elreta with you for just over a year, however.

If our boy does get caught out this one will have less serious consequences as we'd have an easier argument for being judged by someone else.

>>6361714
It's the year of our Lord 5 After-Bloom, anon, adultery hasn't been illegal anywhere in the world for *checks notes* five whole years now.

Mainly you are choosing whether your (potential) enemy is an old lesbian lawyer or a middle aged groundskeeper guy.

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>>6361714
Very optimistic interpretation of things.

>>6361696
>Her name is Leonora Campbell, and she is the wife of Doug Campbell, who is the Mayor of Biltmore City. They married in 2 AB, in a lavish ceremony that the entire community participated in. You've been seeing each other, secretly, for almost eight months.

>>6361701
kek

>>6361722
A judge can find other crimes to pin on us, or a mayor other ways to make our lives a living hell.

>>6361765
>other ways to make our lives a living hell.
Yeah (^: I'm underselling them both there as antagonists. Honestly glad you guys chose Nice Henry over Cuck Henry or Evil Henry, because I think Doug and Elreta are more interesting in either of those roles.

>>6361696
>Her name is Leonora Campbell, and she is the wife of Doug Campbell, who is the Mayor of Biltmore City. They married in 2 AB, in a lavish ceremony that the entire community participated in. You've been seeing each other, secretly, for almost eight months.

>>6361696
>>Her name is Leonora Campbell, and she is the wife of Doug Campbell, who is the Mayor of Biltmore City. They married in 2 AB, in a lavish ceremony that the entire community participated in. You've been seeing each other, secretly, for almost eight months.

>>6361696
>Her name is Leonora Campbell, and she is the wife of Doug Campbell, who is the Mayor of Biltmore City. They married in 2 AB, in a lavish ceremony that the entire community participated in. You've been seeing each other, secretly, for almost eight months

>>6361696
>Her name is Tory Drumwright, and she is the wife of Elreta Drumwright, who is the Judge of Biltmore City. They have been together for three years, but only married six months ago. She has been cheating on Elreta with you for just over a year, however.

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Leonora... Like some kind of fairytale queen to you. Fair skin, long dark hair, big eyes full of wonder. She's bubbly, but assertive, and has a tendency to simply take whatever it is she wants.

A while back, she decided that she wanted You.

It started with modest flirtations, and escalated to private visits, until eventually she was grabbing your shirt and pulling you onto the couch... Disrobing you, holding you down gently with a hand on your chest and a finger to your lips...

You sigh a dreamy sigh.

In the eight months since she made her move, your secret hookups have become more frequent, and your feelings more complicated. The anxiety of the arrangement has climbed steadily in your heart. Still, you've never experienced anything like this, never felt this kind of intimacy or exhilaration.

That's because her husband of three and a half years is Doug Campbell, the very popular Mayor of BC, and essentially it's founding father. He is, naturally, oblivious to the affair and... Neither of you are sure how he'll react if he finds out.

"Mmmrrreow rreeow." Parmesan pipes up, and you reach your left hand out to stroke her along the spine, then dig and scratch a little with your index finger behind the ears.

There's a knock at your door, then, and you rise to your feet. Parm, disturbed, drops from her perch as well, and scampers off to investigate other parts of the room, out of your view. You go to the entrance and turn the lock, opening the door.

>Cont'd

Leonora slips inside, and reaches a hand out to close the door behind her. She has a radiant smile on, and something mischievous behind her eyes, wasting no time to reach out for the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss and a twist that has you suddenly backed up against the wall while your lips melt together. You let out a long exhale, and return the passion, embracing her, kissing her, and nibbling at her lip.

She stays close, pressing her forehead to yours and giggling, then let's you go, and proceeds over to the couch. "Hello lover." She greets you, then pausing to look over her shoulder. "How were the kids today?"

Today Leonora is wearing cargo pants, hiking boots, a grey tank top, and a green plaid button up shirt that's open in the front, with the sleeves rolled up past her elbows, and her hair is down. She sits on the couch and leans sideways, putting her legs up over the armrest, and settles on her back with hands clasped over her abdomen.

"They were great, really great. How was foraging?" You respond, smiling shyly and coming closer. You lean against the front of your desk, and cross your arms over your chest.

She shrugs from her prone position, still smiling. "Another day another basket of mulberries, you know how it is. Checked my traps but no dice, all of them tripped but nothing caught. Anything else fun going on for you? Solve any interesting problems?" Leonora asks, looking up at you with a kind of admiration that has, for you, become something of a drug.

Select One:

>Tell her about the knife and the tree
>Tell her about some of your current findings on cloud formations and what they might mean
>Tell her you haven't been able to think of anything but her, and join her on the couch for some [Romantic Time]
I am not gonna write anything R-rated for this quest, but will fade to black and keep rolling if you guys want Oliver to just relax and enjoy his sneaky link.
>Write-in

>>6362089
>Tell her about some of your current findings on cloud formations and what they might mean

>>6362089
>Tell her about some of your current findings on cloud formations and what they might mean
I'm curious if she actually likes Oliver or just the thrill of adultery. It will inform how I, for one, strategize moving forward.

>>6362089
>Tell her you haven't been able to think of anything but her, and join her on the couch for some [Romantic Time]
Oliver ain't no simp but the other options are gonna scare the foid.

>>6362089
>Tell her about some of your current findings on cloud formations and what they might mean

>>6362089
>>Tell her you haven't been able to think of anything but her, and join her on the couch for some [Romantic Time]

Aircraft seems like the only real viable travel outside of caravans and hiking.

Ideal choice is a gyrocopter, or an ultralight glider. But an ultralight would require a bit of a runway.

>>6362089
>>Tell her you haven't been able to think of anything but her, and join her on the couch for some [Romantic Time]

>>6362184
paragliding over the forest canopy would be very nice until you find yourself dive-bombed by a harpy eagle the size of a Prius

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>6362093
>>6362107
>>6362117
>>6362160
>>6362175
>>6362198

Sperg about clouds = 1
Love and tenderness = 2

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>>6362245
Spaghetti kept in the pockets!

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>>6362243
That's just like... A random example, r-right? Not a real organism we've seen?

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>>6360775
I haven't finished reading this yet, but in case you didn't pick Magda, I nominate Miss Trunchbull. Once she stops using her powers for evil, she will be the perfect strong woman.

Or Gina Carano if you want someone ripped and attractive.

>>6362353
>Trunchbull the Tiger-Widow
basedbasedbased

>>6362245
Hey, OP. Could they burn the forest? Like letting an elderly citizen drench some trees on gasoline and burn a chunk of the jungle.
Has someone made the attempt to nuke the forest?

>>6362376
...The forest that may be sapient and tracking our population? I think hat would be a bad idea.

I am curious what would happen, though, now that you bring it up.

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>>6362353
>>6362358
Kind of inspired, but I feel Trunchbull looks a little too old, and I'd feel so drawn to make Magda more villainous... I actually think I am settling on Mary Elizabeth Winstead in Kate

>>6362376
>>6362382
I think this question is best resolved in game, so I won't fully answer it here. But I will pose this question to you in the meantime: if the entire world is a forest, including the part you and hundreds of people live in, and you lack the technology and infrastructure to adequately contain or redirect a fire without risking dozens of casualties at a minimum, would you try? What if 75-85% of your food supply was game or forage in the forest closest to you?

>>6362414
This means you can set it on fire then, the problem is how.
This possibility should make the invisible forest killer more cautious though.

Sad you're sleeping on Trunch. You'll lack the power to beat monsters if you aren't one.

>>6362433
>This means you can set it on fire then
Well, I don't confirm or deny, as with many things it is more complicated. Last I will say for now.

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"No... No, mostly just finding new questions instead of answering them, today." You reply, looking to the floor. You decide not to talk about the tree, or the knife. "Nothing interesting, really, more cloud watching." You move over to the couch and she leans up so you can sit down with her head lead down in your lap. "If I weren't so distracted thinking of you, I might've knuckled down and figured something out." You say quietly, smiling down at her. You stroke her hair with one hand, and lay the other on her chest.

"Oh shit, was that a line? Were you working on that instead of observing the same weather we've had for five years straight?" She teases back with a giggle, and reaches up to run a hand along the side of your face as you blush. "You're sweet. I was thinking about you too. I've been nervous-excited all day... Being in here, in our private little slice of the past, getting to touch you... It's more than someone could hope for in all this mess." She says, also quiet. Something flashes behind her eyes, and she reaches up with her other hand so both are on your face, and leans up while pulling you down, kissing you again. She moans into you, and let's go, shifting around to be up on her knees next to you, then straddles your lap, hands on your chest.

You're excited by the way she is surrounding you, the smell of her breath, even, when her face is close to yours and the veil of her hair is all around like a curtain that hides the eyes you have for one another. You place your hands on her thighs, and move them up gradually to rest on her hips.

>Cont'd

You take a deep breath, eyes locked with hers. "What exactly were you thinking about doing when you finally got me alone?" You ask almost in a whisper.

She leans on, and whispers back in your ear while her fingers climb up to your shoulders. Your temperature rises by a degree, and your hands squeeze tight around her waist....

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

You're laid out on the couch wearing nothing but your boxers and your watch, which you glance at absentmindedly. It is now 2:04 PM and you are tired, and a bit sweaty, from Leonora having run you ragged around the office for the better part of an hour and a half.

She is laying on top of you, head on your chest, breathing heavy. "Fucking Christ... I swear, Oliver, you're wasted on the sciences... Doug's dick would not want to meet your dick in a dark alley, I'll say that much." She jokes.

You smile and scrunch your face at the same time, shaking your head. "You are so... Where does a sentence like that even come from?!" You inquire, unable to stop yourself from laughing a little, and then let out a long exhale. "You're fucking crazy." You stroke her hair again when you say this. You like that she's silly, and uncouth, and says off the wall things like that, so unlike yourself. Bombastic, goofy, and unashamedly raunchy, she seems to lack even a single timid bone in her body (except when you're making love of course). You think often of how, on your fourth meetup, she gleefully declared, 'C'mere nerd, your face has a date with my pussy!', a sentence seared into your mind with its ludicrous audacity and surprising eroticism.

While you were still a year away from achieving your PHD when The Bloom occurred, having gotten to that point at the age of 22 meant no time at all for romance or intimacy with women when you were a teenager. The apocalypse has made for a difficult environment to cultivate that skill, and Leonora is the first person to ever pursue you in this way. When you do have things to say about your research, she hangs on every word, and when she is able to get you out of your clothes, she has her way with you.

>Cont'd

Your reminiscing is interrupted by a knock at the door that jolts the both of you upright. You scramble to get up, but neither of you say a word as you start manically collecting articles of clothing - pants half drapes over the front of the desk, an undershirt hanging on the back of the chair...

"You in there buddy, it's Henry. Something happened with Stoker and P.K.." Comes a familiar voice. You freeze for a second, and look to Leonora with even more panic in your widening eyes, which she reciprocates just before resuming her own mad dash to collect her clothes.

What if the Mayor is still with him?

"Yes! I need just a moment! I have to be careful with, the, with this sample, i-it's delicate! One moment!" You reply loud enough to be heard. You step into your pants, ears starting to ring with anxiety.

After a moment, a response comes. "That's alright."

Leonora moves quickly and carefully to the other side of a bookshelf to hide.

When you've finished getting yourself dressed, you move to the door at a deliberate pace, wiping your cheeks and forehead with your hands and teasing at your hair to try and appear normal. When you open the door, Parmesan scurries over, having decided she's been in one place long enough. She stops close to Henry and hisses, then puffs up and redoubles her speed, galloping down the corridor and away. He glances to the jumpy cat with surprise, then up to you, brows furrowed a bit. He looks you up and down, and then steps into the room, looking around.

You wait a moment, then close the door. "Something happened? Are they... Ok?" you ask.

Your friend has his hands on his hips, and his gaze settles on the floor. He just stares for a moment, but gradually shakes his head. "No, man. They, uh... They didn't make it. Some bandit attack. That's what he said anyways." He replies, voice low.

>Cont'd

"Who said? What do you mean? Someone... Someone killed them?" You reply, blinking quickly as the news washes over you. While you weren't as close with them as Henry, they were still friends of yours, going all the way back to the first year.

He nods, still looking at the floor. "Yeah... Yeah. I wanted you to hear it from me. Roy Harris survived the attack. He got back just under an hour ago, I was wrapping up with Doug. He's... Concerned about what you saw, what we both saw." Henry pauses and crosses his arms, then finally looks up to meet your eyes. "That's the thing, though. Roy says they were jumped by two guys with knives, and he managed to get away in time, he couldn't stop them. He didn't say anything about them floating through the air... But he said they were double-edged daggers, like what you described. I just... Something about it feels off to me. The timing, yaknow?"

You nod a couple of times, trying to be present for what is already a shocking conversation while masking your panic about Leonora's presence, and almost worse, her overhearing the mention of the mystery you and Henry are tangled up in. "So what, I mean what does this mean?" You ask.

"Well, it just means we keep our eyes open, especially around Harris. He's always been odd, but I just... I'm not sure I trust his story." Henry begins. "In a little while, I'm going to take one of the Security Captains and a few officers with me to investigate the scene, see if the wounds match what he said. Roy is in a holding cell for the night while we sort it out. Drumwright isn't pressing charges yet, but he might go to trial. He was back within the Five Hour Limit, but it's still always sketchy when someone gets home alone."

>Cont'd

You heave a big sigh, and scratch at your neck, and cheek, before putting both hands into your pockets. Your eyes are locked on the floor between the two of you now. "I'm... I'm really sorry, Henry. I know you guys were tight. Thanks for letting me know. Suppose you'll be talking to the Council next?"

He nods. "Yeah. We're going to have an emergency meeting in an hour, after that I'll probably be filling in the rest of the officers about most of what's going on. I'll check in with you later tonight, maybe tomorrow." Henry rubs at his neck with his right hand, and has his left on his hip. He scans the room one more time. "Anything I can do for you?"

You shake your head. "Oh, uh, no, no. Thanks. Yeah, just find me when you need me. I love you, I'm sorry, again." You reply.

"Always." Henry says, faintly smiling. He walks up to you and brings you into a quick squeeze, patting your back. "I'm off then. Be safe." He steps past you, and closes the door behind him.

After a moment, Leonora poke her head out from her cover.

"Hey, what is he talking about, what did you two see? Daggers?" She looks concerned, pulling her pants back up to her waist and adjusting her belt, her tank top is already on. She brushes hair from her face and comes closer to the couch, standing behind it and across from where you're standing near the door.

Select One:

>Downplay what you saw, tell her there were markings on a tree that make it seem the city is being watched, but not that you saw a floating knife or unnatural burl formations
>Tell her the full truth, even the parts that are clearly supernatural
>Write-in

>>6362497
Ah damn, our illicit affair has already complicated our lives!

>>6362498
>Downplay what you saw, tell her there were markings on a tree that make it seem the city is being watched, but not that you saw a floating knife or unnatural burl formations
Don't actively downplay it, just say we didn't see who carved the tree, and we aren't yet sure who they were communicating with.
Resist the urge to say "who or what"

>>6362498
>>Tell her the full truth, even the parts that are clearly supernatural

>>6362498
>>6362516 +1

>>6362498
>I'm not sure what we saw, need further investigation.

>>6362498
>Downplay what you saw, tell her there were markings on a tree that make it seem the city is being watched, but not that you saw a floating knife or unnatural burl formations

>>6362516
>>6362521
>>6362608
>>6362610
>>6362617

Oliver is going to attempt to downplay earlier events, and what he saw in the telescope. Leonora is already wary, because he kept this from her when she asked about his day.

Roll 1d100-10, BO3

Rolled 74 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>6362629

Rolled 19 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>6362629
Watch THIS

>>6362640
This bit never gets fucking old lmfao! Man, I love /qst/. It's been a real relief to have some structure to keep me writing. You guys have had me keking in this thread especially.

Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>6362629
Only one other person knows this info. Her husband can trace it back to us.

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You gesture for her to join you on the couch, and she steps around to do so.

"I don't really know, yet." You begin, having a seat as you do so. "Henry and I found some marks on a tree, we think from a knife, and we think maybe someone is watching the community." You go on.

Leonora is seated across from you, with one foot on the floor, and her other leg on the couch, ankle over her other knee, leaning onto the backrest with her elbow and her hand supporting her face. Her mouth is a tight line, and her brow is furrowed when you speak. "You saw that today? Why didn't you say earlier?" She asks.

You reach out and place a hand on her shin. "I'm sorry, I just didn't want to worry you, and even though we don't know what we're dealing with, Henry asked me to just keep a lid on it. He doesn't want to cause a panic, or go off half-cocked." When you finish saying this, you give her leg a squeeze, and sigh, looking down. "Really, I'm sorry. I am still processing it all, and when you got here, I didn't want to have anything else on my mind."

As ever, the best lies are produced with partial truth, and the best of the best are largely by omission.

She sighs as well, and reaches out with both her hands to rub on the back of your neck and your shoulder while you stare down at the couch cushion between you both. "Ok, ok. I won't share this either." She says. A beat passes. "But you can be honest with me, ok? I don't want you to hide things, not when I come here. I feel like we have to hide enough, we shouldn't have to from each other." With that, she rises to her feet and goes behind the bookshelf again to grab her shirt, which she puts her arms through as she returns, still leaving it open and untucked to show the tank top underneath.

>Cont'd

You look up at her when she stops at the far end of the couch, her arms crossed, and gaze wandering around the open window. "Hey, Leonora?" You say.

She looks to you, an uneasiness just beneath her expression.

"I'm sorry. You're right. I love you. I promise, this isn't serious, and if it were I would've let you know right away."

She nods, looking away, and then comes around to stand just next to where you're sitting. "C'mere, nerd." She instructs, gesturing for you to rise.

You shift to be on your knees on the couch, which puts your faces nearly even, and you exchange a smile. She runs both hands up your torso, and cups your face with them, leaning in to kiss you one more time, and then plants a softer, second kiss after. Then a third, on your cheek. She keeps her hands on your face when she leans back, brushing at your left cheekbone with one thumb, looking into your eyes. You can't help but smile back.

"Ok, I'm gonna head out. I love you too, Oliver... Thanks for still making time for me today. See you later, at the screening, ok?" Leonora says quietly.

You nod.

She leans back in to kiss you on the forehead.

Then she walks over to the door, glances back one last time, smiles, and lets herself out.

When she closes the door behind her, you let out a long exhale and flop back down onto the couch. You cover your eye sockets with the bottoms of your palms, and groan loudly.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

>Cue the music

https://youtu.be/MeRlumGqZlY?si=pWCiD7Ubn8HZ6Yz3

>Roll credits

Oliver - - - Alex Lawther
Henry - - - Michiel Huisman
Leonora - - - Joanne Kelly
Parmesan - - - Parmesan
Executive Producer - - - Moot
Screenwriter - - - Sloucho
Director - - - Anonymous (Plural)

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Ok guys, that is where I want to stop our first segment!

I am now going to shift perspective to Roy Harris for our next chapter. He just survived a Frightening Encounter in the forest, and is being held on suspicion of murder.

While I work on that, feel free to answer any of the following questions, or provide your own feedback independent of them:
>Do you want future segments to run longer than this, or was it a good length? (I am not changing my mind about this one, it's an ideal time to introduce Roy, but this will help me pace things going forward).
>Do you feel that environments and characters were adequately described to give you a clear mental image? What would you change?
>What do you think of the setting so far? Are there any particular questions you would like answered in the near future? Keep in mind, some elements of this setting will likely remain a mystery for a very long time, maybe forever.
>What do you think of the three characters we've already gotten to know? The story is young, and there is ample time to make adjustments to Oliver, Henry, or Leonora, if there are certain character traits that put you off - or ones you think should be present. Feel free to spitball ideas for what might be changed about them. Tragic past, addiction issues, nightmares, did someone close to them go Green, do they have some special skill or talent? I'm open minded.
>Purely to indulge my own curiosity, who here has been in one of my other threads? Which one(s)?

>>6362719
>>Purely to indulge my own curiosity, who here has been in one of my other threads? Which one(s)?
Did you run the multi character zombie apocalypse quest years ago?

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>>6362719
>>Do you want future segments to run longer than this, or was it a good length? (I am not changing my mind about this one, it's an ideal time to introduce Roy, but this will help me pace things going forward).
That was a good length IMO.
>>Do you feel that environments and characters were adequately described to give you a clear mental image? What would you change?
No complaints. Too much description takes more work to process than what my imagination can do on its own.
>>What do you think of the setting so far? Are there any particular questions you would like answered in the near future? Keep in mind, some elements of this setting will likely remain a mystery for a very long time, maybe forever.
When do we find Desmond in his bunker?
>>What do you think of the three characters we've already gotten to know? The story is young, and there is ample time to make adjustments to Oliver, Henry, or Leonora, if there are certain character traits that put you off - or ones you think should be present. Feel free to spitball ideas for what might be changed about them. Tragic past, addiction issues, nightmares, did someone close to them go Green, do they have some special skill or talent? I'm open minded.
I'm going to hate the action girl because I am a miserable chud but I think you should tell the story you set out to tell regardless.
>>Purely to indulge my own curiosity, who here has been in one of my other threads? Which one(s)?
I don't think so.

Okay can I get my free Jr. Cheeseburger now?

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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Compose yourself, detective... You will soon receive another visitor..."

That voice... Dry and hollow, like dead autumn leaves scraping against the sidewalk in the wind... A susurration in the heart of your mind... A Whisper that accompanies you as surely as your shadow.

You open your eyes, and take a deep breath. You are sitting on a cot in the back of a small cell. The walls are sheets of corrugated steel and metal mesh. The door in or out was originally a wrought-iron fence, painstakingly retrofitted into the bars of this small prison. If you recall correctly, all of these cells were originally just dressing rooms next to the old Biltmore bowling alley, down here in the basement.

Your name is Archibald Roy Harris, but you haven't been addressed as Archie since childhood; you go by Roy, and you aren't sure if there is even anyone left alive that knows it isn't your first name. There are many things that your community does not know about you.

You close your eyes again. You replay the events that took place earlier today. Around roughly 10:30 AM you left for hunting duty with Paul Kim and John Stoker. It was before noon when you heard the voice in your mind, Mr. Whisper, make one of its cryptic commands.

"Hide in the hollow beneath that tree, when the first man bleeds you must flee."

Almost as soon as the words rattled through your skull, you heard something else.

Whistling. A melody. It came from ahead of your group, but after four bars of the song - one you think you recognize, but can't place - it suddenly seemed to be emanating from behind. You did as commanded, and ducked around the wide oak tree that had formed a hollow at the base of its trunk, then inside. The other men panicked. You heard a shout punctuated by choking, gurgling, more shouting. Feet falling quickly, running, you poked your head out and saw that John Stoker was on his knees, grasping at his throat with both hands as hot, red blood streamed out between his fingers and onto the forest floor. Paul was running, and you scrambled to follow suit.

>Cont'd

But as you caught up you saw him stop abruptly ahead of you and reach down in front of himself with both of his hands. He groaned with pain, jerked up to be standing on his tiptoes, and then crumpled to the ground. There was a double edged dagger in his torso. At a glance, you could see the blade was shoved into his gut, then pulled up into his sternum, causing him to bleed profusely and die. The whistling resumed, the same melody from before almost, the same song at least.

"Flee now! Halt for nothing!"

You sprinted right past his body, looking back over your shoulder only for an instant.

You are sure you saw the knife rise up out of the cadaver in the air, of its own volition.

But looking back for any longer is a dangerous thing to do while running through the jungle.

You don't know if the knife followed you, but the whistling did, for at least half an hour. Coming from under bushes, and then from the tops of trees. Seemingly from anywhere, it followed you like a hunting hound with a fresh scent.

Eventually it grew distant, and you drew closer to Biltmore City, your home. You were stopped by security officers. You were put in this cell. You were told to await questioning.

"Do not reveal the truth of your assailant." You were instructed by Mr. Whisper at the time. Not that you could even say you know the truth of what that was. Part of you wonders if it was all just a hallucination, another delusion imparted by your overly familiar relationship with the Neverending Woods. "Tell them you were accosted by brigands. Tell them the others abetted your escape."

And when Commander Langdon came to question you, that was what you relayed. When another security officer came to ask some of the same questions, and a few others, you reiterated your fabricated version of events.

>Cont'd

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You open your eyes again, elbows on your knees, back hunched over, your gaze is settled on the white tile floor. You begin counting them again in order to perhaps soothe yourself for a moment. To clear your perpetually foggy mind.

This is a bad situation. You have a reputation for being strange. But many residents have mental conditions that are no longer readily treatable with anything other than talk therapy or the local support group - no medications or specialized treatment plans.

Returning from the forest alone is never good, though. While you certainly do come and go from the forest alone with some regularity, you have always done so in secret, and your excursions are brief, dictated by Mr. Whisper, whom benefits from your ability to remain here. In this instance, however, you've had to leave two dead bodies behind and with no witnesses as to what truly occurred. You are unsure if those that investigate will even be able to find a trace of anyone having been present except for the three of you.

You take another deep breath, and begin tapping your foot on the tile anxiously.

A door opens at the end of the corridor, you can hear, and the sounds of more feet making contact with the tile join your own. Two people, heading your way. You look up to face the cell door.

A security officer, a dark skinned man with square framed glasses that are taped together in two places wearing a t shirt, cargo pants, and a chest rig with a radio and handcuffs steps into view first. He has a neutral expression as he shuffles slightly to the side for a second man to enter the frame.

Doug Campbell, the Mayor of BC. He is looking more relaxed, his soft eyes seem to contain a bit of pity, even as he looks down on you. He's wearing a white button up shirt, black tie, and black overcoat, with grey slacks and black cowboy boots. You... Were not expecting to see him here.

>Cont'd

You've only spoken a few times, despite being one of the earliest arrivals. You've always stuck to yourself. You know that he was originally one of the groundskeeper's here, which is why he had the keys and the knowhow to make a small portion of this place habitable in the early days after the Bloom. His group contacted others by radio, and were lucky that most of the first to arrive were well intentioned, and armed enough that when less altruistic survivors came to the estate, they could be driven back. You remember seeing Doug kill a man with a machete during that first big fight. Supposedly he killed two more before it was all over. You don't remember any pity in his eyes back then.

"Ok Reggie, you can go, I want us to have some privacy, alright?" Doug says, only turning to face the officer very briefly, otherwise keeping his eyes on you. He backs up a step to lean against the wall across from your cell door, with his hands in his pockets.

The other man's brow furrows, but he nods, and departs. There's a long silence between you until finally you hear the door close at the far end of the corridor.

Doug smiles, but not with his teeth. "I'm glad you're ok, pal. Heard it got pretty hairy back in the woods. They are gonna go look for P.K. and John in about an hour and a half I think, we're about to have an emergency meeting. There's some other weird stuff going on around here today." He says, and then sighs. "You know this is just basic precautions, right? No one is saying you did anything wrong, right now, we just wanna figure out the broad strokes before we take next steps. Are you feeling ok?"

"Abide my commands, detective. Do not be overly revealing. Tell him nothing of the blade or pursuit." Says Mr. Whisper, and if you still hope to have him make good on his bargain to help you reunite with your daughter, abide you must.

Select One:

>Plead your innocence, reassert your story and insist you be released
>Tell him that you feel fine, and that you are not bothered by the accommodations
>Say nothing, he's clearly here for a reason, and probably not security related - just wait for him to tell you what he wants
>Write-in

>>6362780
Nope! Only been here a few months. Had to bail on my Changeling quest because it didn't get much traction, but I finished the first thread of Ratpocalypse and the first thread of Legend of Zuzo, which is on its second, now. I am hoping that it and this quest will both roll for a long time!
>>6362786
Yes, to collect your cheeseburger you just have to enter the deepest darkest part of the forest, where the canopy makes day into night, beasts slouch ceaselessly in the tenebrous dark, and the primordial nightmares of an eternal midsummer dance and play to the sound of women weeping and men gnashing their teeth...

>>6362826
>Yes, to collect your cheeseburger you just have to enter the deepest darkest part of the forest, where the canopy makes day into night, beasts slouch ceaselessly in the tenebrous dark, and the primordial nightmares of an eternal midsummer dance and play to the sound of women weeping and men gnashing their teeth...
I knew it. Filling out these questionaires is always onvine redeemable only or something.

>>6362824
>Say nothing, he's clearly here for a reason, and probably not security related - just wait for him to tell you what he wants

>>6362824
>Tell him that you feel fine, and that you are not bothered by the accommodations

>>6362719
>Do you want future segments to run longer than this, or was it a good length?
Tough to tell yet, since we aren't yet in the groove of the quest. I'm liking it, so far! This feels like a natural perspective change point.

>Do you feel that environments and characters were adequately described to give you a clear mental image?
Yep! No real changes to advise yet.

>What do you think of the setting so far? Are there any particular questions you would like answered in the near future?
With a mystery, the maestro knows best where to reveal what, and how. I am fascinated by the setting and very much approve.

>What do you think of the three characters we've already gotten to know? The story is young, and there is ample time to make adjustments to Oliver, Henry, or Leonora, if there are certain character traits that put you off - or ones you think should be present.
I'm not yet sure how to feel about Leonora in particular, as to whether she is just a bored and horny lady or genuinely cares for and respects our first viewpoint character. I am leaning towards the latter, whcih makes me more sympathetic, but by default I do not trust her.

Oliver seems a little spineless and easily-led, but that makes sense and I am not really criticizing you for that so much as just noting ow I feel about his portrayal.

Henry seems like a good sort, so far. Just a proper sensible fellow and good friend. Keeping this secret could imply a controlling attitude, but we'll see.

>Purely to indulge my own curiosity, who here has been in one of my other threads? Which one(s)?
All of them so far, I think, thoguh Ratpocalyspe was my least favorite and I tragically joined he Changeling one only a little while befroe you aborted it.

>>6362822
I also instinctively do not trust the Mayor, not just because our first main character is banging his lady, but also because Bill Murray as a mayor in a scenario like this, where his is not the main character, strikes me as smarmy villain material.

>>6362824
>Write-in
>Feeling okay aside from watching John with a Kill Bill fountain coming out of his neck? No, I'm not okay. But it hardly feels like I should complain, considering that I'm still breathing. So, what's up, Doug? I doubt you came here just to hear me repeat the same thing I've said a dozen times already.
Does not mention a blade
Does not mention the pursuit

>>6362851
Will support.

Calling it, will start writing soon.

Thanks so so much to everyone for the feedback, very useful! Very appreciative!

>>6362719
>Purely to indulge my own curiosity, who here has been in one of my other threads? Which one(s)?
I'm in Umbral Tower and was in Gauntlet and the changeling one

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You chew the corner of your bottom lip for a moment, looking him up and down, scanning him, then meeting his eyes with your own. You speak. "No man, I'm not ok. I had to see some wild Tarantino shit today with blood coming outta Stoker's neck like fuckin' Kill Bill. I had to run for my life. I'm in a box. Only way today's worse is if I'd had my guts spilled out too." You reply sternly.

"Kurosawa." Doug says.

"Ker-what?"

"Kurosawa, the director. The blood. The really graphic, like, spray, thing. That was his thi-"

"What-the-fuck-ever man, look, I know you aren't here to talk about that, definitely not movies. What's the rub, Doug?" You interrupt him, sitting up straight now and setting your jaw.

He holds his hands up in mock surrender for a moment, then puts them in his pockets. "Sure, yeah, you got me dead on." A beat passes. The Mayor smirks. "Look, I think they're doing you dirty, is all. I appreciate being careful but imprisoning you for the crime of surviving a traumatic event?" His features have sobered up. He shrugs. "Look, call me a sap, whatever, it just doesn't sit right with me, is all, I just don't think it's ok."

You quirk a brow. "And that means what?"

"Well, yaknow, we got our checks and balances and everything but I do enjoy a little executive privilege here and there. I can put a word in." Doug does put up a hand at this point as if to hit the brakes a bit. "They still have to investigate everything, yaknow. You gotta stay on the estate, the log monitors already have a heads up. But I don't see the point in you staying in here."

>Cont'd

You scratch your opposite bicep with your right hand and tilt your head a little, squinting. "That's very enlightened of you. Look, I mean this with all the respect in the world, but I'm not a dummy. I smelled the angle when you came in. What do you need? I'll be glad to do it, but just speak plain with me, alright?" You prod.

Doug offers you a couple of deep nods. "Hehe, yeah, there's that ex-cop sixth sense. You used to be a detective, right?" He leans in with his question.

"Yes." You lie. This is an easy lie, though. One you've told so many times now that it really might as well be true in your mind. You actually used to be a skip tracer for a bail bondsman in Brevard. But the reputation of being a detective is better for your side hustle as a private investigator for hire around the estate. Which, consider what Doug just asked, you're quite sure it's this occupation of yours that he is interested in.

"Right. Great. Well let's be plain. I mean what I said about there not being a point to keeping you in here. But I'd appreciate you doing me a solid once you're turned loose, if you don't mind." Doug says.

You don't reply, though. You just keep looking at him, prompting him to continue with your unimpressed silence. He's a fast talker just like you are, but that's why you know the best way to deal with him is to make him cut to the chase.

He frowns, and nods. "I think my girl might be using. I know there's some stuff floating around the encampment. Every now and again someone on a scav or hunting crew finds a stash. Everyone keeps a lid on it because there is no detox and no one wants to get sent for a one way hike. But I have seen the signs, so has Langdon." He pauses, and there seems to be some real pain in his eyes as he crosses his arms, and turns to look away from you, down the hallway. "Leonora, my wife, she did time back in the day, before all this. She worked bar at one of those kava spots in Asheville, you know that stuff? Kava, kratom? Well, she was moving crystal. Used to dip into the supply. Got free of it, got sober. I'm just worried. She seems distracted. Disappears sometimes." He shrugs again, a little shaken, and returns his attention to you. "If you'd look into it, it could help us both out a lot."

>Cont'd

You chew the bottom corner of your lip again, and tap your foot. Getting mixed up in the personal life of the Mayor sounds like a bad gig for you, maybe worse than the cell. With your proclivities, you know you'll burn up under a spotlight. This could bring on way too much attention.

"Acquiesce, detective. Render your services." The hushed command creeps across your mind.

You let out a long, annoyed exhale. You run a hand through your greasy hair. "Sure. I'll do it." You do as you are bid, and agree.

"Hey, thanks! Just drop by my office whenever, or, uh, yaknow, well, I'm sure you know where to find me, that's your whole deal, right?" He says, reaching into one of his coat pockets. He produces a key, and undoes the bike lock and two cylinder locks that secure your cell.

You stand up to your feet, and draw your lips into a tight line for a moment, giving him an upnod. "That's my deal. I'll be in touch." You say, pushing the door open and extending a hand.

The Mayor shakes back, and clasps his other hand around yours when he does so, looking you right in the face with an appreciative smile.

What a politician...

With that, he walks off, down the hallway, just as he came. You wait a moment, allowing him to close the door and leave you alone again.

Select One:

>Return home to unwind after all of this chaos
>Go to the bar to unwind after all of this chaos
>Begin the investigation of Leonora Campbell, look for her or possible clues
>Begin an investigation into whatever the fuck it was that accosted you in the forest
>Write-in

>>6363004
>Go to the bar to unwind after all of this chaos

>>6363004
>Go to the bar to unwind after all of this chaos

>>6363004
>Begin an investigation into whatever the fuck it was that accosted you in the forest

>>6363004
>Begin the investigation of Leonora Campbell, look for her or possible clues
Cheating bitch.

>>6363004
>Return home to unwind after all of this chaos

>>6363004
>Go to the bar to unwind after all of this chaos

>>6363004
>Go to the bar to unwind after all of this chaos

>>6363022
Mister Whisper wants us on this mayor case, though, right?

>>6363038
He does, but you're allowed to do both. If you don't start now, you can start tonight at the screening of Alien.

>>6363038
>>6363038
I'm on the side of humanity, regardless of how disgusting humans can be.
Mostly because the Bloom looks like the wet dream of a psycho hippie. Stupid plants shouldn't get so uppity.

>>6363004
>Go to the bar to unwind after all of this chaos

>>6363042
Mister Whisper would be most displeased to hear you speaking so. He has offered us an accord, has he not?

>>6363004
>>Begin the investigation of Leonora Campbell, look for her or possible clues

Had some stuff come up for me IRL, fellas, may need a day or two to update.

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>>6363226

>>6363233
Who is he?

>>6363239
Norm McDonald as a neo-noir detective, at a bar after a hard day.

>>6363226
I hope all is well. Take the time you need!

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You run both hands through your hair and look up at the ceiling. Then sigh a dejected sigh.

Only one thing to do now.

You're going to the bar.

You trudge down the corridor and when you step out into the room beyond, you exchange a look with Reggie, who is now sitting behind a desk with his feet up, reading a book - 'The Road Less Traveled' by Scott Peck. He returns his gaze to the pages. You don't bother asking about the gun or machete you'd taken with you into the forest. You expect you aren't permitted to open carry, at least not for the time being. Besides, you have a few weapons tucked away across the estate anyways, and know where to get more.

You do grab your jacket from a hook nearby, it's milsurp, an M65 field jacket you picked up at a thrift store back in the day. You throw it on over your grey wifebeater, and pull a matchbook from the inside pocket. Then you withdraw the pack of Cheyenne's from a side pocket on your khaki denim carpenter's pants, and light one up as you make your way to the first floor of the mansion.

You consider what's next, looking to the floor mostly with your head down as you walk, keeping your eyes off of others for now.

Leonora's spoken to you a few more times than her husband, over the years. You wouldn't call her close, or anything, but you've been on foraging crews with her before, and sanitation detail. You've shared some chit chat in small groups a couple of times at community events. She always seemed nice to you, and down to earth in a certain way that makes it easy for her to socialize with a lot of different kinds of people. Someone that lived a lot of life before the world changed. She stays with Doug on the South side of the third floor, not somewhere easy to access.

The knife you saw is another matter entirely. To your knowledge, no one in this community is as aware as you are of what truly lurks in the darkest reaches of the Neverending Woods.

The Others. They are there, waiting, wanting... Though it is hard to say what. Mr. Whisper is the only one you've had a protracted conversation with, and he follows you everywhere, demanding all sorts of things. Even in his case, you aren't fully sure what he wants, or what he's capable of. You have no way to be certain, but you feel sure that a flying, homicidal dagger has something to do with Them. The question now is... What? Why?

>Cont'd

You exit onto the front terrace and out into the main encampment, and noticing a few lingering glances here and there, choose to keep your eyes ahead of you, projecting ignorance.

On the far North edge of the shantytown-like lodgings is a sort of quonset hut built with cinder block walls on the front and back and a corrugated steel roof arching over top, it's sat next to a very tall, wide magnolia tree with a few tables under its branches for outdoor drinking and eating. The huge painted sign over the door reads, 'STILL MAGNOLIA'S', with a little winking Dolly Parton on the side, a clever little reference to the moonshine and vodka being distilled in the back and the community's Appalachian heritage.

You stroll right up to the joint and let yourself in.

https://youtu.be/GClZv7IwtYc?si=bShbTt1o_YJ6PQD7

The salvaged jukebox in the near left corner is playing a Tanya Tucker record. There are only seven other patrons for the moment, mostly sitting at tables - some made from big cable spools, others just being folding tables from Biltmore's storage - though two are situated at the far right of the bar. Illumination is provided by a few stained glass chandelier fixtures that you think came from a pizza hut, and the bar itself has a big mirror behind rows of whatever liquor the scav teams can recover, plus some homemade spirits in recycled bottles.

The bartender, a tall elderly Japanese fellow with a flat, long face, and posture like a jumbo shrimp, is wiping a glass out with a rag, and gives you an upnod from across the counter as you sidle up to a high stool.

"Hey yams, can I get a shot of shine and an Irish coffee?" You ask, giving him a little salute with two fingers.

Mr. Yamamori, or as you call him, Yams, nods quietly and maintains his neutral old person expression as he sets down the one glass to pick up another, smaller one. He's a regular customer of yours, and he pays in credit on your tab.

>Cont'd

You wheel around on the squeaky rotating stool to scan the others here while he puts your drinks together.

Gordon Hunt is sitting with a woman you don't know by name, she's part of the foraging crew though. He's a builder, one of Hector's best pairs of hands.

A young man, clearly a security officer based on his plate carrier, radio, hatchet, and boots, is throwing darts not far beyond them. His aim is pretty damn good.

At another table, two women are chatting and giggling. You recognize the younger of the two, Harriet Tucker, she's a doctor, you think the older woman is too, though you don't know her name.

At the other end of the bar you can now confirm the identities of the other two patrons - Caleb Young and Mandy Hudson. You're familiar with both as being frequent vectors of whatever drugs are breezing through BC on a particular week. They keep their shit together well enough, and their proclivities under wraps from most of the community, but your work has made you aware of their place in the contraband food chain. It also doesn't hurt for them that both are highly talented scavengers, it keeps the security office from taking too much of an interest, and cover from other users or bribes does the rest.

Your attention is pulled back to your front when a shot glass and a chipped waffle house mug are both placed down onto the bar by Yamamori. He is so old and his eyes are drawn so tight it's hard for you to determine if he can even see you.

Select One:

>Just drink on your own and spend some time going over what you know about Leonora and the drug scene to prepare for your investigation
>Interrupt Gordon's conversation
>Ask the security officer if he'd like to throw darts against you
>Cut in on Harriet's conversation
>Move down to sit with Caleb and Mandy to have a word
>Chat up Mr. Yamamori
>Write-in

>>6366072
>>Just drink on your own and spend some time going over what you know about Leonora and the drug scene to prepare for your investigation

>>6366072
>Move down to sit with Caleb and Mandy to have a word
These guys seem interesting and they are into sketchy shit so they might not be that uncomfortable around a weirdo.

>>6366072
>Move down to sit with Caleb and Mandy to have a word
We have work to do. No reason it has to wait until after pelasure. Roy strikes me as a multitasker.

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Kicking back your shot first - which kicks back with all 90 of its proofs, mind you - the coffee is a serviceable chaser, though it has a couple of bites to it as well. Looking down at the chip along the rim, you're pretty sure you were on the scav team that brought this mug back, as a matter of fact, along with some other goods from a waffle house that had a truly gargantuan cherry tree growing right through the middle of it.

You get up from your stool and move down three, putting yourself just next to Caleb, with Mandy standing on the other side of him around the corner of the counter.

"You need somethin' bub?" She says with an almost surprised sneer. Mandy is in her mid-40's, wearing a denim jacket over a black tank and matching jeans, with a machete she serrated herself on one hip. Her red-brown hair goes to just above her shoulders, and parts in the middle. She's got a couple of dumb looking neck and face tattoos, as well, you think she was maybe a juggalo or a nomadic homeless type before the world made like a tree and leafed. She's got the brusque, confrontational disposition for that sort of past, anyways. "I said, you got somethin' you need?"

Caleb, on the other hand, is a little younger than you, probably the tail end of his 20's, dressed in a Grateful Dead crew neck shirt he cut the sleeves off of, cargo pants, and combat boots that looked to have done some time in the middle East by the make and color of them. He's got one of those faux hawk haircuts where it's shaved on the sides but isn't really grown out in that middle strip, with gauged ears and a septum piercing that stands out against his pale complexion. "Woah, woah, doctor says chill pill, baby." He says, waving in her directions with one hand as though her words were flies to be swatted away, but his eyes are on you. "I know this guy, we was shootin' side by side two years ago when those facepaint fags was tryna rush the joint. You remember that, Roy? You an' me, sittin' up a tree, S-H-O-O-T-I-N-G! Hahaheh, yeah man, you switched up from scav after that, don't see you much no more." He goes on.

>Cont'd

"How could I forget, you domed two of those nuts and a brass casing shot out and got stuck in my ear for a second, I almost lost my balance and fell the fuck out. Hope you don't mind the company, you guys looked like you were having a good time, is all, and that's what I come to the mag for." You respond cheerily. "Round of shots?" You tack on, quirking a brow to Caleb first, and then Mandy.

She crosses her arms over her chest, still eyeing you suspiciously. Her man, however, raises up his glass of vodka and kills it with a couple of gulps, then scrunches his eyes and shakes his head, exhaling the heat. "Myeah, hell yeah, dude." He nods and grins, his teeth are crooked, a few of them on the browner side of yellow.

You hold up three fingers in Yamamori's direction. "Three shine shots for us!"

The bartender begins preparations, and you turn back to face the two of them.

"So, how's picking these days? I heard a group just found a load of guns and beans in some kinda prepper pad, was that ya'll?" You ask, sounding earnest, but you already know the answer.

Mandy gives you an upnod, smirking. Caleb winks. "Damn fuckin' right. Mandy n' me got what they call 'pattern-seeking brains', ya dig? We just like, see shit different, leaves, sticks an' shit, dirt - this shit was under a broke down car in the woods, like dug under it, or I guess built out an' then the car was drove over it for hidin' it, somethin' like that." He shrugs.

Three full shot glasses are placed down on the counter between you all, and each of you takes one.

You raise yours high. "To pattern-seeking brains." You toast warmly, clapping your free hand onto Caleb's shoulder.

>Cont'd

When the three of you shoot those back, and bring the glasses back down onto the bar, Caleb let's out a contented sigh. "What about you, slick, what's your wave these days? Thought I heard you was gonna be huntin' now that Barry stumped hisself?" He asks curiously.

You nod, smiling warmly, playing it close to the chest. "Yeah, yeah, it was quick work today, so I'm back early." A beat passes. "It's an alright gig. Lot's of hiking. Lot's of looking around, yaknow?" You take a long sip of your coffee. "When's ya'll's next run, anyways?"

Mandy leans over onto the counter, propping herself up with her elbows and forearms. "Three days. Why? Lookin' to tag along for some more nature time, bub?" She asks.

You shake your head but keep up the smile. "No, no, I'm getting plenty of that. Was wondering if I could ask you to keep an eye out for something though?"

Select One:

>You aren't allowed to keep a gun right now, but the SO doesn't know you have a couple of revolvers hidden away for emergencies, but you've only got five rounds of ammunition for them, so you'll ask them to find more .38 special ammo because you are starting to anticipate there may be an emergency soon...
>Prior investigations you've done have filled you in on a lot of these two's flow - you know if you ask them to look out for 'ice cube trays', they'll hook you up with meth, if they have any, and find some if they don't.
>You'll ask them to keep an eye out for a double edged dagger while they're out there... Maybe it doesn't always fly. Maybe there are more of them?
>Write-in

>>6366319
>You'll ask them to keep an eye out for a double edged dagger while they're out there... Maybe it doesn't always fly. Maybe there are more of them?
While we're investigating in here, they can investigate out there.
Can we also try to angle for info on Leonora's buying habits, or no?

>>6366325
>Spoiler
Asking about ice would be the most direct route to that info - it'd let you know if these guys are dealing it, which means they might be Leonora's source, or it'd let you know they aren't, which means someone else is. If you guys vote for the dagger instead, the next update will have another option to use Caleb and Mandy to dig into the Leonora case, though, just from a different angle. Likewise, if you guys vote to ask about meth directly, the next update will include some way to further explore the dagger mystery, again from a different angle. These secondary angles might be better for your purposes, or they might be worse, I wouldn't be able to say and that's the 'gamble' here. There are also other bar patrons you might question or chat with about either of these topics (or others), and you know where to find Caleb and Mandy if you want to move slow on either of these things - you can expect that, like Leonora, they'll be about the screening of Alien later today.

>>6366333
Hmm... Alright, changing my vote to
>Prior investigations you've done have filled you in on a lot of these two's flow - you know if you ask them to look out for 'ice cube trays', they'll hook you up with meth, if they have any, and find some if they don't.
from >>6366325

>>6366319
>Prior investigations you've done have filled you in on a lot of these two's flow - you know if you ask them to look out for 'ice cube trays', they'll hook you up with meth, if they have any, and find some if they don't.

>>6366319
>Prior investigations you've done have filled you in on a lot of these two's flow - you know if you ask them to look out for 'ice cube trays', they'll hook you up with meth, if they have any, and find some if they don't.

>>6366319
>You'll ask them to keep an eye out for a double edged dagger while they're out there... Maybe it doesn't always fly. Maybe there are more of them?
These guys seem too important to waste them in the druggie.

>>6366319
>Prior investigations you've done have filled you in on a lot of these two's flow - you know if you ask them to look out for 'ice cube trays', they'll hook you up with meth, if they have any, and find some if they don't.

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>>6366317
>>6366319
>Prior investigations you've done have filled you in on a lot of these two's flow - you know if you ask them to look out for 'ice cube trays', they'll hook you up with meth, if they have any, and find some if they don't.

>>6366596
LMFAO