New quest! Dafuq?

Find out what's going on with the missing gunshot wound.

Time limit: 10 minutes.

Success: Enlightenment, 1250 Exp.

Failure: none. Click to expand... Click to shrink...

New quest! Dafuq?

Find out what's going on with the missing gunshot wound- AND the blue text box.

Time limit: 9 minutes, 43 seconds.

Success: Enlightenment, 1250 Exp.

Failure: none. Click to expand... Click to shrink...

-1 hp

Quest: Dafuq?

Find out what's going on with the missing gunshot wound- AND the blue text box.

Time limit: 8 minutes, 51 seconds.

Success: Enlightenment, 1250 Exp.

Failure: none. Click to expand... Click to shrink...

-3 hp

Quest: Dafuq?

Find out what's going on with the missing gunshot wound- AND the blue text box.

Time limit: 8 minutes, 26 seconds.

Success: Enlightenment, 1250 Exp.

Failure: none. Click to expand... Click to shrink...

-35 hp

Through enduring excessive physical punishment, you have gained a new ability: Resist Damage! Click to expand... Click to shrink...

MENU

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INVENTORY

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PARTY

HELP Click to expand... Click to shrink...

Quest complete!

You figured out what dafuq is going on. Sort of.

Received 1250 Exp.

Level up! You gained five stat points.

New perk!

New quest!

Surplus time added to new quest. Click to expand... Click to shrink...

Spoiler New quest: Going to Ground

The police are looking for you. The area is about to be covered with more fuzz than a Shih Tzu. Find a place to lay low

Time limit: 16 minutes, 48 seconds.

Success: Escape, 500 Exp.

Failure: Prison bitch. Again.

Due to an especially sensible decision, your wisdom has increased by 1! Click to expand... Click to shrink...

Spoiler MENU

STATS

ABILITIES

SKILLS

INVENTORY

PERKS

QUESTS

PARTY

HELP

Spoiler Peter Gardner

Level 2(10%)

HP: 11/55

MP: 20/20

STRENGTH:5 (-3): 2 [+]

AGILITY: 7 (-2.1): 4.9 [+]

VITALITY: (3+2)=5(-2.5): 2.5 [+]

INTELLIGENCE: 6 (-3): 3 [+]

WISDOM: 3 (-1.5): 1.5 [+]

CHARISMA: 2 [+]

LUCK: 1 [+]



Unused Stat Points: 5



CONDITIONS: Malnourished (-30% STR, AGI, -20% INT, WIS, VIT), Depressed (-30% WIS, INT) Recently Revived (-30% STR, VIT)

The Bum.

Spoiler Quest: Going to Ground

The police are looking for you. The area is about to be covered with more fuzz than a Shih Tzu. Find a place to lay low

Time limit: 6 minutes, 08 seconds.

Distance: Indeterminate.

Success: Escape, 500 Exp.

Failure: Prison bitch. Again.

Spoiler Quest: Going to Ground

The police are looking for you. The area is about to be covered with more fuzz than a Shih Tzu. Find a place to lay low

Time limit: 6 minutes, 02 seconds.

Distance: Unknown.

Success: Escape, 500 Exp.

Failure: Prison bitch. Again.

Spoiler Quest: Going to Ground

Achieve one or more of the following objectives:

Reach a safe haven before time runs out.

Reach a safe distance from the fighting before time runs out.

Get a complete change of clothes and a shower before time runs out.

Spoiler Quest: Going to Ground

Achieve one or more of the following objectives:

Reach a safe haven before time runs out.

Reach a safe distance from the fighting before time runs out. (300 yards minimum distance North)

Get a complete change of clothes and a shower before time runs out.

Through repeated attention to detail, you have gained the Observe ability! Click to expand... Click to shrink...

Through repeated activities to conceal your presence, you have gained the Stealth skill! Click to expand... Click to shrink...

Quest complete! You got away from the cops. For now.

Received 500 Exp. Click to expand... Click to shrink...

Spoiler Peter Gardner

Level 2(30%)

HP: 11/50

MP: 20/20

STRENGTH:5 (-2.5): 2.5 [+]

AGILITY: 7 (-2.1): 4.9 [+]

VITALITY: (3+2)=5(-2.5): 2.5 [+]

INTELLIGENCE: 6 (-3): 3 [+]

WISDOM: 3 (-1.5): 1.5 [+]

CHARISMA: 2 [+]

LUCK: 1 [+]



Unused Stat Points: 5



CONDITIONS: Malnourished (-30% STR, AGI, -20% INT, WIS, VIT), Depressed (-30% WIS, INT) Recently Revived (-30% STR, VIT)

The Bum



PERKS:

The Bum: You are hardy, or at least, you're used to sucking it up when times are shitty. Because they always are.

+2 VIT, 55% chance to ignore effects of spoiled food and bad water.

1 Unused Perk Point



ABILITIES

Observe level 1 (0%) Active

You can gain valuable information about people and things just by looking. The amount of information gained is determined by the target's level (if any) and the level of Observe.

Resist Damage level 1 (5%) Passive

You are tough, harder to injure than most. All damage taken is reduced by 3%.



SKILLS

Stealth level 1 (5.5%) Active

You can go unseen and unheard.

10% reduced chance to be seen or heard when trying to conceal your presence. This bonus is tripled when at least 50% cover is available.

PrologueThey promised us there wouldn't be an actual firefight. Just us, raw numbers and more guns than they had. Twenty of us, eight of them. They'd give in. They'd leave.As the gun falls from my fingers, I lose my balance, landing on the meaty part of my left butt cheek. The Empire thug who shot me-- or at least, I think he was the one-- shoots again. He misses, but the second shot was probably unnecessary, as I bring my hand to my throat. The gunfire that practically explodes around me sounds hollow, far away.I've felt worse pain from smaller injuries. Still, lurking behind the numb awareness that the heated dark pulse of slick, black liquid that's dyeing my ratty t-shirt black, Alfred E. Neumann's words "What, me worry?" being drowned in blood, the terror is receding. Fading to fear. To alarm. To something less, all worry leaving me.I float, looking down at my body, laying in an expanding pool of shiny blackness in the orange tinted light of the street lamp over the back alley basketball court. One of my bloodied hands is pressed uselessly against my throat; there's a darkness spreading in the crotch of my jeans that has nothing to do with blood. How incredibly undignified, I think to myself. I can't feel my fingers or toes. My hands and feet quickly go numb, my legs, my arms. But there is no pain, now. No pain, no fear, no doubt, no sadness. Dignity has no meaning. The view of it fades from my eyes, white and black blotches invading my vision and cotton filling my ears.What was I thinking about? I don't remember.I try to take another breath but I can't tell if I succeeded. I haveTimeTo wonder---There is no time. No sense of body; an attempt to move my arm gives no response. No memory. No regret or shame. Sight, smell, taste touch, sound-- all gone. There's only... a little boredom. With what passes for thought right now, I dimly think of my lack of surroundings.But... There isn't nothing, either.There's something here.For the first time in seconds, aeons, eternity, there is something else. Something that is not just my thoughts in lonely emptiness. It surrounds me.I reach out, without hands, without change. I reach out..And I grasp it.Blue light enters me, and I open my eyes.---I can hear the fight-- or maybe I should call it a battle-- moving away, towards Empire territory. I suppose that means we're winning. Either that, or some of our boys are running the wrong way. Which, depressingly, is the more likely.Skidmark didn't even bother to show, so it was just twenty of our boys against maybe a dozen Empire thugs. They told us there'd only be eight. Still, good odds until you think about what most of the Merchants are: strung out junkies. I'm part of the temps, just another bum they grabbed, gave a gun, and a promise of fifty bucks and a dime to look scary for fifteen minutes.I'm with the Merchants not because I'm hooked on drugs, but because I'm homeless. I've done this work before, four times. Usually, it's not a thing. Merchant for an hour, food for a month.And, glancing down, at my shirt and pants, I'm now laying in piss and blood, both my own. I've seen others like this, before, punks on the nod or hot boxing chronic, but this is the first time I've been there myself. Getting shot up and shooting up... I know there's some kind of joke to be made there.It's at this point that I realize I don't feel any pain from being shot. Am I in shock? And I'd think I'd be freaking out right now, running for cover-- except my mind is clear as a bell, and calm. Right now, both sides think I'm either dead, or on my way. Nobody's shooting at me while I just lay here. My fingers are still on my neck; beneath the sticky cold blood I feel unbroken skin.No wonder I'm bleeding out. Dumbass. I need to cover the gun shot wound. Except as I search, there's no wound there to cover. Anywhere on my neck.Is this a bad fucking dream? Did someone slip me a clickum instead of a roach this afternoon? But no. It doesn't have any of the reactive feel that my one experiment with acid had. Nothing was changing according to random thoughts I was having.What the fuck is going on?And I take it back. There's a weird response to random thoughts right there. Now I'm seeing a see through blue text box. I wave at it; nothing happens. My hand passes through it like it's not there.Okay, someone definitely slipped me acid. No question. Why the fuck is there a ticking timer?This... seems familiar. Something about this reminds me of something.Before I can think much further on it, the approaching sirens distract me. Oh, shit! The cops. How am I going to get out of here? I'm not going to get very far with a gunshot wound to the neck. Do I stick it out here, and let the ambulance guys check me out? First thing they have to do when you're arrested is make sure you're healthy, or take you to a doctor if you're not.Sure, in jail I can't do much, but they still get weed and cigarettes on the inside, and it's three meals and a roof over my head. It's actually... kind of a nice idea. On the surface.Me, though? No, fuck that noise. Scrawny guys like me end up taking it in the ass on a regular basis, I know from experience. Being a part time Merchant... no, no back up either. Better to make my escape here. Even dead is better than prison bitch. Once was more than enough for a lifetime.I'm expecting pain as I roll over; I'm surprised when there isn't any. Not even as I can feel gravel pressing into my elbow, no pain.Floating red number drifts up; that time of familiar memory tickles at my conscious.The lack of pain tells me one thing: must have been PCP. Guys on PCP have been known to shatter every bone in their arms and hand punching something, get shot on the heat, and not even notice it.That's weird. It doesn't say "New" any more. When did that change?I get slowly to my feet and wave at the stupid blue text box, wishing it wasn't right there in the middle of my sight. I can't see in front of me well enough like this. It remains where it is stubbornly, like the mole in the middle of my back that just itches so goddamn much sometimes.Usually, just thinking about my mole was enough to make it start itching. For some reason, though, this time it seems satisfied to not bother me. Maybe because it realizes I have more important shit to do. Like get out of here before the sirens arrive. Except I can't figure out how to get rid of this fucking blue text box blocking my view.I can't really see where I'm going as I leave the lit area, which kind of sucks, because I suddenly slam into something hard and unyielding at a full stagger. One of the metal poles holding up the chain link fence surrounding the court.And there's that red fucking number again. I manage to keep my balance.It is at this moment that I notice the little line inside a tiny box on the upper right corner of the text box, the usual computer icon for minimize. I stare at it for a good twenty seconds. Well, according to the timer counting down, it's actually sixteen. Then I reach up-- and my hand whacks against the wall I ran into a half minute ago.I back away, then cautiously poke at the icon. The blue text box collapses into a small box that reads "Dafuq? 8:02."More importantly, I can see. The sirens are stopped, and I can see the flicker of them from a nearby alley. A couple of police officers are slowly trickling in from the alley leading to the court. A few feet from me, I see the bloody black puddle that I'd been lying in two minutes ago.The cops are doing that two handed thing they do, one hand holding a flashlight and steadying their pistol in the other. Circles of light pass over the walls of the project apartments at ground level.I'm not a smart guy, but I know when it's time to go. I glance to the side, the break in the fence only a few feet away, and I run for it. Police flashlights move in my direction but I ignore their yells, running for the alley. Then I feel something hit me in the shoulder blade as I hear four or five rapid gunshots.The sense of deja vu is still strong as I see that, accompanied by nostalgia. Good feelings, like when I was a teen age kid, summer afternoons, playing-- oh. Quests. Hp. Damage resistance. Just like in a role playing game.Wait, what now?There doesn't seem to be any further pursuit. Apparently the cops aren't eager to chase a runner into a dark alley after the obvious evidence of the huge gunfight that just happened. My mind goes back to the little collapsed blue box.'Dafuq? 6:55'I wonder if there's a control panel, or menu--Oh, shit. I'm in some kind of video game? Is that why there's no gunshot wound? I'm on video game hp mechanics now?The alert screen vanishes as I wave my hand, but I don't have time to rejoice: another big blue text box pops up. I stab my finger at the minimize icon; it collapses into a little box that reads, "Going to Ground: 16:52."Looking around, I don't see anyone. Maybe... I should probably read that.My eyes lock for a split second on the "Failure" result. These windows are telling me things. Is this some kind of cape helping me out in a mentally fucked up way? Or...I shake my head. Time to think about that shit later; if there's even a chance it's correct, then I need to move. And all things considered if say there's almost a certainty that is correct.I scan the area again, this time looking for a way to get out of here. I can't just go out onto a main street in a blood soaked shirt and, oh yeah, let's not forget piss soaked pants. Because I was starting to feel something like dignity for a moment.Unlike in the movies, a fire escape is never handy when you need one. I briefly consider trying to force my way into a door or window, but decide against it. Don't want to kick random doors open; that'd make noise and draw any cops looking for me like flies on shit.I wave away the pop-up immediately.Wait. What did that say about wisdom?Eh, whatever. It was a small pop-up. Doubt it said anything important.... Who the dick am I kidding? I gotta know. I think the word 'Menu,' hoping this works.There it is. Now, let's try... 'Stats.'It suddenly occurs to me. Did I actually get super powers?Nah. That's fucking stupid. Except... I look at that timer.'Going to Ground: 15:10'Okay. Let's assume that I have powers. I mean, it's more likely this is a trip, and someone slipped me acid, except, if I have been shot-- twice-- and I'm still somewhat okay, or whatever, then to still be standing this long after being shot I almost have to have powers. As weird as they are.... That "11/55" hp thing scares me, though.And if I got powers, they're also telling me that cops are looking for the guy they shot at. Oh, fuck, I left my gun! It's got my prints all over it! Doesn't matter I didn't shoot it, it's got no serials. That's five years right there, minimum.'Going to Ground: 14:52'Fifteen minutes is plenty of time. Just be cool, be calm, relax... Think.... And not about how I'm fifteen minutes from prison bitch.Can I climb the wall?I look up. I'm not sure I can manage it; the stat thing totally called it when it said I was hungry. I haven't eaten since yesterday, and the slightly rubbery feeling in my arms and legs is one discomfort that my super powers apparently didn't fix.Hide in a dumpster?No, probably not. Any broken glass... Well, that eleven hp I have left says it's a bad idea. I don't want to know what happens when it reaches zero.... Take off the shirt?That's a thought. Of course, it'd be better if I could replace it. Running around in February shirtless in New England is rather stupid. And obvious. Plus all the blood.Wish I could think of something.I wave the menu away, mindful of the quest box. 'Going to Ground: 13:30'I could just stand here like a moron. Or I could start moving. South along Flight Street? That's straight into Empire territory. Plus, that's where the fighting went. West? Back to the basketball court and the cops. East takes me right out to the water--Maybe that would be a good move? At least I could wash off the shirt and the blood. I glance down at my pants. And the piss too.Fuck, today sucks. Sucked. Whatever. I begin walking towards the beach.At this time of night, the streets are pretty quiet, especially this close to a major fight. I almost don't see the reflection of flashing lights coming from a cross street; I duck into a doorway to a tenement building, huddling down against the short brick wall. Within seconds the prowl car zips past the building, lights on but sirens quiet. I wait briefly, peeking up over the brick work to watch the car go.As soon as the cop car turns the corner, I start to go, only to huddle back down as several more cop cars go past. And an armored van. Is that the PRT?Yep. One of the Empire capes must have shown up. And by the look of things, the PRT is getting ready to sweep up everyone from the fighting.I test the door handle. Like I expected, locked. Looking up, I scan the front of the building. Nothing I can reach, not that I wouldn't be seen the moment I started climbing. Assuming I could manage the climb in the first place.Peeking over the brickwork again, making sure to stay hidden, I wait, hoping for the officers gathering there to not be looking in my direction so that I can get out of the stairwell I'm trapped in. Four cop cars and a PRT van so far.Oh shit. Police sometimes gather in a nearby spot before they raid a place or respond in numbers to a major fight or crime. Is this the staging area? Talk about bad fucking luck. Getting myself trapped out here less than a block from the staging area.... And I saw my stats; I don't know why this even surprised me. On the upside, is looking more and more like this is a left super power thing. If a really fucking weird one. On the downside... 'Going to Ground: 6:08'I'm running out of time. How far do I need to get?The quest window opens back up.Indeterminate? The fuck does that mean?Oh.Wait, can I just... Ask what I need to do to get away?How far until I reach a safe distance?North! That means... Away from the cops. Duh. I poke at the minimize button again.I peek over the bricks again, making sure to not be seen. They're not looking in this direction. Good. Then, a blue window pops up.I almost swipe it away, before I pause. Let's not be hasty. Observe ability. Okay. Remember that. Later. I reach out, and try to move the window- it moves. Oh, man. This is actually kind of awesome.They're still not looking over here; I slip over the wall and stick close to the building.I move that window up next to the Observe window, and keep moving. I think my heart jumps into my throat as the light of another pair of headlights pass by but I'm far enough into the nook of a couple bushes that I'm not seen. I glance at the collapsed window.'Going to Ground: 4:22'I wait two seconds and chuckle to myself. Then I keep going.Only a block later, the window expands.I don't stop to read more, though. I'm hungry, and I want to find a safe place, preferably somewhere I can hole up, clean up, and eat something.There's an old apartment building a few blocks away that's pretty trashed. In another city, it'd probably be demolished, but in Brockton it just serves as a gathering spot for people that don't have anything left to lose. I'm pretty sure I can find a corner to curl up in, maybe a sink to wash off my shirt. And my pants.---