[Burichan] [Futaba] [Nice] [Pony]  -  [WT]  [Home] [Manage]
In memory of Flyin' Black Jackson
[Catalog View] :: [Quest Archive] :: [Rules] :: [Quests] :: [Discussions] :: [Wiki]

[Return] [Entire Thread] [Last 50 posts]
Posting mode: Reply
Name (optional)
Email (optional, will be displayed)
Subject    (optional, usually best left blank)
File []
Password  (for deleting posts, automatically generated)
  • How to format text
  • Supported file types are: GIF, JPG, PNG
  • Maximum file size allowed is 10000 KB.
  • Images greater than 250x250 pixels will be thumbnailed.

File 166970089031.png - (12.27KB , 600x600 , begin.png )
1050471 No. 1050471 ID: de253f

There's a little black spot on the sun today
It's the same old thing as yesterday
Expand all images
No. 1050472 ID: de253f
File 166970092870.png - (14.67KB , 600x600 , wake.png )

You finally manage to lurch weakly out of unconsciousness, and your eyelids hang heavy as you get your bearings. It's hard to concentrate on your surroundings given you currently feel like you tried to sleep off getting hit by a train. For all you know, that may very well be what happened, and the worst part is your complete amnesia of the events of last night means it's entirely plausible as far as you're aware. Your total lack of clothing opens up a font of much more unsavory scenarios, however. As does the fact you can't even remember things as basic as your name and face, but maybe 'unsavory' isn't exactly the word you would use to describe those scenarios in particular. Whatever the case, the pangs of dizziness don't seem to be letting up any time soon, so you might as well sit up already.

It takes some significant effort to lift yourself from the bed, but with only minor trembling you prop yourself up. Flakes of dry mucus scatter from the corners of your eyes as you idly wipe the tiredness from them. With each blink, the room gets a little less blurrier, until eventually you have a clear view of the area. There's a shut door across from the foot of the bed, and an ajar door off to the right that appears to lead into an unlit bathroom. A dresser shares a wall with the bathroom door, there's a few varying articles of clothing strewn about the floor in front of it, including a pair of trousers you suspect the hygiene of. Hopefully your lower body is more enthusiastic to support your weight, or else navigating this bedroom might come down to dragging yourself throughout it.

* Look at your face in a mirror
* Remember your name
* Get yourself some pants (maybe)
No. 1050475 ID: e51896

Well, go to the bathroom and check that mirror.
No. 1050476 ID: 15c72a

Pants seems like the easiest task to do first. Look for some clean ones in the dresser.
No. 1050480 ID: 663c95

I feel like face and name are more important than pants. Think about name as you walk to the mirror. If you notice signs of anybody else being in the immediate vicinity, though, reprioritize pants.
No. 1050484 ID: 708905

Even if we don't wear them we should still check the pants pockets
No. 1050496 ID: 398700

NAMELESS FIGURE: Posess a vague sense of dread about viewing yourself in the mirror. Something's wrong with the world.
No. 1050499 ID: de253f
File 166975163662.png - (13.94KB , 600x600 , darkness.png )

>Go to bathroom

Logically, a bathroom is by far the most probable place to have at least a singular mirror, so it would be the first room of choice to get a good look at yourself. Your legs are uncooperative in standing up from the bed though, and awkwardly strain under themselves like the wheels of a cheap plastic utility cart hauling a pile of cinder blocks. You brace against the edge of the bed and work your way towards the middle of the room along it. By the time your hands release from it, your lower half has become properly acclimated to the concept of walking. Well, if stumbling as though you were perpetually on the cusp of slamming into the floor at any given moment falls under the same umbrella as walking, that is. But hey, it moves you around the bedroom better than you assume crawling would.

It's difficult to see much of anything in the dark, even with the door open as wide as possible, but the light from the doorway is just enough to reliably navigate here. You try your best to view your reflection anyways, but it's impossible to make anything out. You find it unsettling how abstract you feel not even knowing the appearance of your own face. It's as if your personhood has been erased from existence entirely, especially in conjunction with your unknown name. Perhaps you could alleviate it by coming up with a name... This tangent of thought is unceremoniously cut off by a lightstring you were unaware of until now brushing against the back of your neck. You swivel your head and pull the cord in one quick motion, and the former blackness surrounding you is substituted for a color not dissimilar to urine. With visibility restored, you casually return your point of sight to the mirror.
No. 1050500 ID: de253f
File 166975167634.png - (6.22KB , 600x600 , face reveal.png )

...holy fuck.

* Look at your face in a mirror

There are several words you are thinking of looking at your reflection right now, and none of them are flattering. It's horrible, obviously, a physiological atrocity that should not be. Yet there it is, staring into your eyes whilst you reciprocate the gesture, as if rhetorically asking what you were expecting to see. You of course have a veritable catalogue's worth of questions regarding yourself. Why do you have an autopsy scar across your torso? How have you not noticed said scar before now? Are the flaps flanking either side of your head ears? Why do you have beady nightmare eyes? Why is your mouth contorted into a crazed grin, and hardly twitches when you try frowning? What the hell happened to make you physically incapable of not smiling? Is it even voluntary? Is that just your mouth's natural state?

You really cannot get over the smile, it is handily the most egregious part of the major problem that is how you look. What arcane purpose could it possibly serve?

>If no amount of facial muscle flexing can make a dent in it, it's probably always been like that.
>It tricks my brain into pumping out that sweet, sweet serotonin.
>More approachable. Yeah. A big, bright smile ready to greet the world with a "howdy-doody".
>I wouldn't dare go within a 10 meter radius of that. Maybe it's intentional.
>The purpose is there is no purpose, which is simply a tasteful way of saying I don't give a shit.
>It's an expression of pain.
>[Free Space]
No. 1050503 ID: dc13c4

It's an expression of pain. All smiles are expressions of pain, but this one looks like an extremely painful expression of pain.
No. 1050508 ID: 15c72a

>All smiles are expressions of pain
bro, what?

I wouldn't dare go within a 10 meter radius of that. Maybe it's intentional.
Like someone did that to you.
No. 1050510 ID: 398700

someone's clearly fucked with us.
No. 1050520 ID: 90c451

If you can't move it then it's probably artificial. There's people who freeze their muscles in certain positions to ensure they have no wrinkles. Maybe somebody did this operation on us.
It would fit with the whole autopsy patient thing, getting stuffed full of chemicals. Though I don't think we're the happy type even when we're knock out drunk.
The smile was probably an expression of defiance, it just got stuck that way. (Basically a combination of the last 3.)

Is there any way of telling how many organs you have without being able to see? We can still feel a heart beat right? If not then that has terrible repercussions.
No. 1050522 ID: a7a180

There is no purpose, your face is just stuck this way.
No. 1050524 ID: 588bee

Maybe it's a side effect of what was done to you, or maybe it is meant to make you look horrifying as revenge for something you did.

Also, why are you a rabbit thing? Shouldn't you be a human being? And are you a guy or gal?
No. 1050528 ID: bbb04b

It tricks my brain into pumping out that sweet, sweet serotonin.

> Are those ears?
Yes, unfortunately. All the better to get a good listen in on this deafening silence. But better a rabbit than an ape. God, can you imagine that? Living on a big ball? With a bunch of apes? Duking it out for resources?
No. 1050537 ID: 823a1a

If it was the only part of the nightmare face it could have just been a thing, but with the nightmare eyes, too? It's intentional, question is why??
No. 1050596 ID: de253f
File 166984659191.png - (8.61KB , 600x600 , vanity.png )

>Someone's clearly fucked with us.

The crude incision marked upon your body is more than enough to infer so. Your face, on the other hand, is an enigma. There are no obvious signs of surgical tampering, so if unnatural, it must be the work of a very talented surgeon. Something which could not be said of the one responsible for that scar. You're still able to open your mouth somewhat too, and you can feel muscular movement while doing so by pressing your palm against your cheek. All of this breeds reasonable doubt in your mind of the nature of your disfigurement.

>Organ status?

A pulse tingles throughout your fingers when laid on your chest, and you carefully probe your stomach for any missing organs. You are soon confronted with the fact you have absolutely no anatomical knowledge, and this act is liable to untwine the poor stitchwork done on you, so you abandon this fruitless endeavor. It can be gleaned that any internal meddling did not include non-consensual organ arbitrage. Probably, hopefully.

>Are you a guy or gal?

According to the presumably reliable information provided directly from your own eyes, there's a lovely penis and testicles affixed to your crotch. Might be a good idea to obscure that view for the sake of modesty at some point in the near future.


Your blood runs cold once that word enters your thoughts. There's a gap in your relevant memory; the most you can recall is that it was something that ceased to exist a long time ago. Perhaps somebody well-versed in the historical would be able to fill that blank.
No. 1050597 ID: de253f
File 166984664774.png - (10.08KB , 600x600 , catch 22.png )

Your business inside the bathroom is thoroughly concluded, despite walking away with several more questions than answers. The second door likely leads into a further expansive room of whatever type of residence this is, so for now your primary focus should be covering yourself up. You make a short detour from the dresser intending to wring out the pockets of the befouled pants, and are given ample reason not to by a smell comparable to a bloated corpse's armpit. Digging through both drawers of the dresser yields only women's apparel you are confident do not fit you. There's something that might stretch enough, but...

Alright, you may admittedly bear the appearance of a probable pervert, but that doesn't mean you actually are one. Anything's better than wearing that vector of disease on the ground though, and nudity is frankly an equal in undesirability. 'Limited' doesn't begin to describe your options, and none of them are anywhere close to the realm of ideal.

>The other kind of pants
>None of the above
No. 1050600 ID: dee951

Yea, how about investigate tools with which sheets, curtains, pillowcases, lampshades, shower curtains, etc., might be turned into reasonably suitable coverings? Even if you have to tie something up like a diaper around you. Do you have anything with which to fasten or cut things around you?
No. 1050607 ID: c96f56

Try to relax and acclimate yourself to the situation. You are in a room with more than decent accomodations. Maybe you had an accident and were put there by someone who cares for you, or at least for your well-being.

Using the bedsheets to cover your body and a pillowcase to conceal your off-putting grin would probably be the lesser evil in this situation.

Make a few attempts at talking, and try to recall as many pieces of pernitent common knowledge as you can.
No. 1050611 ID: b01382

sniff underwear
No. 1050623 ID: bbb04b

> Comparable to a bloated corpse's armpit.
Which, considering the distinctly Y-shaped surgical scar across your front, does actually seem to fit your profile.

Wear both, with your(?) pants over top. Smelling bad is the lesser evil to perversion once you leave the safety of this room to reenter society, and the lady's underthing will probably prevent you from catching a disease in the most undesirable area, at least.
No. 1050624 ID: 5d9787

Bed sheet toga
No. 1050645 ID: b01382

....I mean there's a sink and a bathroom. Look around for a bar of soap. Maybe you can wash the pants in the sink, squeeze it dry, then try to find a dryer.
No. 1050647 ID: 15c72a

Yeah, wear the bedsheet, with the panties on under it.

>smile wasn't caused by surgery
Hmm... does it feel like your facial muscles are tensed up? Smiling takes effort, normally. If not, then looks like "It's always been that way" is the correct conclusion. If your facial muscles are tensed up, then it could be a disease.
No. 1050675 ID: de253f
File 166992901773.png - (9.57KB , 600x600 , sheet.png )

>Wash pants with soap.

The idea seems practically ingenious in the moment it comes to you, but the realization there is presently no decent means by which you could dry them off casts a shadow upon it. Waterlogged pants sound just as uncomfortable to wear as filthy pants.

>Sniff the underwear.

Even if there were a sliver of a possibility you'd do that, their presence inside the dresser implies they have not been worn since last cleansed.


A go-to choice if you knew how to tie a knot, otherwise your hands will have to be occupied holding it in place until you find less dissuading bottomwear. It does have the benefit of allowing you to circumvent the decision between disgust, embarassment, and a little of both. Trying to drape it over your shoulders and hold it against your mouth to cover your uninviting smirk proves unwise, as it soon becomes difficult to breathe. You wrap it around your waist loosely enough that it won't restrict your mobility too severely, and suspend it with your hands on either side. This can technically be considered pants, right?

* Get yourself some pants (maybe)

>Facial muscles tensed up?

You hadn't paid much attention to it before now, since your whole body felt awful when you woke up, but your face is indeed wracked with the horrific sensation of skin stretched over bone. Concerningly, the pain doesn't seem to even register in your mind unless you actively acknowledge it. You must have been in this state for a good while if that's the case.

>Make a few attempts at talking, and try to recall as many pieces of pertinent common knowledge as you can.

Your current available knowledge is what you'd reasonably assume is common knowledge. You know your basic faculties such as how to move around and feed yourself, some more complex concepts like math, and so on and so forth. Attempting to talk comes out as muffled gibberish at first. You mutter to yourself for a while until you're able to speak mostly intelligibly, though you consistently sound like your mouth is full of cotton balls.
No. 1050676 ID: de253f
File 166992904828.png - (6.67KB , 600x600 , her.png )

You anticipate you haven't wholly exhausted the usefulness to be found out of the bedroom and bathroom, but they have served their purpose thus far. You are sufficiently prepared to explore whatever lies beyond the second doorway, and so you start heading towards it. As you approach the door, you are unexpectedly interrupted by it swinging open of its own accord. A woman... marginally less deformed than you stands on the other side, pushing it out of her way. Her shoulders shift back and her neck straightens upon noticing you. The both of you just stare at each other for a moment, and she eventually relaxes her posture a bit, planting the back of her hand onto her hip in an almost inquisitive manner. The maw comprising the majority of her head begins speaking.

???: "...you actually got up by yourself this time. That's promising."

You have no idea who this lady is, and you get the obscure feeling that you should.
No. 1050679 ID: 0f8432

Mention that much of your long term memory seems to have been wiped, and ask for help.
No. 1050689 ID: 15c72a

Oh no. Ask her if you have recurring amnesia. Also, what is your name?
No. 1050692 ID: 2aa5f0

>???: "...you actually got up by yourself this time. That's promising."

and why is that?
No. 1050726 ID: b01382

Not gonna lie, I do not remember who I am.
Why is -I assuming its unfortunate mine- my pants so filthy?
Whats with my scare?
No. 1050755 ID: de253f
File 167002167569.png - (9.56KB , 600x600 , conversation.png )


YOU: "Do I usually have problems with total memory loss? Because I can't even remember my own name, let alone yours."

???: "Huh, that's not good. I'd ordinarilly call bullshit, but given the circumstances, that honestly seems more likely than not."

YOU: "Is that a 'no' then?"

???: "You could say that, unless you want to be tormented with stories about yourself that you'd probably rather stay forgotten."

???: "Going off the wild assumption you don't, I'll just give you a refresher on the important bits."

AMANDA: "I'm Amanda. You are Raphael. You sleep on my couch, sometimes even with pants on."

* Remember your name

AMANDA: "You've been poisoning yourself to death since before we met, and I've been trying to stop you from doing that."

AMANDA: "Yesterday was the closest you ever came to dying, but the shit circulating inside you wasn't quite fast enough."

She punctuates this with a light tap of her finger against your incision, and with a barely noticeable smirk on her... face? Mouth? Facemouth.

AMANDA: "After that, I came to the logical conclusion sleeping on an actual bed would help you recover faster, and the rest is history."

AMANDA: "Well, for me at least. For you, it's whatever you've been up to in here for however long you were awake while I was gone this morning."

She pauses before tilting her head down, presumably "looking" at the bedsheet you're covering yourself with, and then leaning as if to glance behind you.

AMANDA: "Like finally learning not to wear the same clothing for half a year straight."


YOU: "What did you mean when you said it was promising that I got up on my own?

AMANDA: "Because you never did until now, it's a positive sign for a change."


YOU: "So... about the sc-

AMANDA: "Yeah yeah, I know, blame the medical school dropout with no obligation to cut someone open the correct way."

AMANDA: "I knew storing emergency organs in the freezer would come in handy someday."


YOU: "Can you help me in ways that wouldn't cause someone's medical license to be revoked?"

She shrugs nonchalantly.

AMANDA: "Well, aside from getting another bed, I've already been doing as much as I can for you."

AMANDA: "I let you live here. Hell, I let you dig through my fridge. I can't fix the problems you have left all on my own."

YOU: "Appreciated, but I meant the more immediate kind of assistance."


She takes a moment to stroke her chin contemplatively.

AMANDA: "There's a few errands you could run for me, you'd get to visit some good places to jog your memory."

AMANDA: "I can't be sure you're in the state for it though, so if you need time to relax, I won't kill you."

AMANDA: "Except in one case, maybe. But you would have to waste a stupid amount of time."
No. 1050758 ID: 885f1a

I mean, the even MORE immediate help of clothes would help too, have any idea why... Face?
No. 1050761 ID: ba605b

I would like to not do anything strenuous for one or two weeks, at least long enough for the scars to heal shut without risk of reopening.

Do you have a drying machine so i can wash my pants then wash them? If not got a clothes pin i can use to wash my pants then hang it somewhere to dry for tomorrow?
Got any books to read? Newspapers? A computer? I would like to know the local political climate, or st least figure out what I know.
Do you know what was my education level? Previous occupations? Was I good at anything?
What am I? Who was I?
Are we friends? Relatives? Aqaintences? How did i know you?
No. 1050769 ID: 2aa5f0

so is the reason you're helping me because we're friends? ... Family? what is our relationship?
No. 1050772 ID: dee951

Is there any way I could get actual, you know, quality comprehensive medical aid? Are we anywhere near some place where the likes of me might be able to obtain it?? I seem to have a massive amount of things wrong with me. Uh, why was I trying to kill myself, in particular?
No. 1050773 ID: 15c72a

Okay first thing is to wash those pants. Can't go out without clean clothes. Ask if you have any other clothes? They'll all need to be washed.
Second thing is to get details on what errands you can run, to earn your keep. ...hopefully ones that don't require a friendly face.

Lastly, ask if the shit you've been taking will have withdrawl symptoms. Due to your total amnesia, you won't have to worry about psychological addiction, but physical addiction could be a problem.
No. 1050803 ID: bbb04b

"So... I assume that colorfully fatalist descriptor was meant to convey that I was - and may still be, biology willing - a drug addict? Fun."

"But yeah, got any advice on the fronts of clothing and medical attention, in that order? Everything else can come after that."

"Oh, and while I'm assuming I'm unemployed at this present time, I guess it'd be dumb of me not to ask for a confirmation on that, huh?"
No. 1050815 ID: b01382

Wow. WOOOOOW. Judging by what she said, and considering the state of where we found ourself today, that should speak volumes about our lack there of money and health insurance. No need to rub in her face about how she doesnt have an actual docterates degree.

This, withdrawl could kill us if we didnt go through detox already.

Would she by chance have a spare set of shades? Something tells me our eyes might....unsettle people. If she doesnt have a pair then here's hoping no one picks a fight with us on the street for looking at them funny.
No. 1050816 ID: b01382

Wait. I feel dumb for asking this, but are we a rabbit or something else? Arent rabbit ears supposed to point upwards?
No. 1050823 ID: b01382

I forgot to ask this, but are we suffering memory loss as a part of partial or actual brain damage due to a lack of oxygen circulating through our body during the transplant, or is the memory loss from the drugs? It cant be from mental trama, probably. Did we do a heart transplant on us? Could that be why? Not that i care. Can't care about something you can't remember.
No. 1050894 ID: de253f
File 167012833891.png - (9.53KB , 600x600 , action.png )

>No strain

YOU: "I really don't want to do anything that might rip these stitches apart for, like, a week or two."

AMANDA: "It's mostly bringing stuff from point A to point B, nothing to get anxious over."

AMANDA: "If I can drag you up a flight of stairs without your insides becoming outsides, you can walk around town just fine."

AMANDA: "They need to be done by the end of today anyways, so please, don't make me run through the streets to finish everything myself at the last minute."

>Medical attention

YOU: "I still haven't got a clue how exactly you saved my life."

AMANDA: "Lots of transplants. You had pretty much total organ failure when I found you overdosed on the floor."

YOU: "Shouldn't I be visiting a hospital for this then? Instead of sticking with a hasty, clearly panicked operation?"

AMANDA: "As a matter of fact, yes. One of the errands I had planned was an appointment between you and a doctor I know."

AMANDA: "That would be about 10 hours from now, so you have plenty of time to prepare."

YOU: "Prepare to bleed out internally?"

AMANDA: "Real funny, jackass."


YOU: "I don't have a job or something that's going to make that schedule an impossibility, right?"

AMANDA: "That I'm aware of? No. If you have any I'm not... well that's neither of our problems now, is it?"


YOU: "Based on your flowery use of the word 'poison', I assume I'm an addict?"

AMANDA: "No fucking idea what you're hooked on, and I still haven't figured it out since we first met."

AMANDA: "You dipped into alcohol and other drugs to compensate for the withdrawal, but ended up addicted to those too."

AMANDA: "It hasn't been the most heartwarming thing to watch."

There's a noticeable air of shame in her voice as she utters that last statement.


YOU: "You must care a lot if you're willing to help me, so what are we? Siblings? Lovers? Friends?"

The question seems to give her pause. Her demeanor is almost forlorn as she seems to be finding the words, but it suddenly melts away when she finally begins to speak.

AMANDA: "Friends... yeah, friends. I mean, technically more of an acquaintance, but for sure a friend."


YOU: "What do the errands you suggested for me entail?"

AMANDA: "Ah, I've actually got it scribbled down already for posterity. Here."

She fishes her hand through her pocket, procuring an untidily folded piece of paper. She tries flicking it onto the dresser, but it flutters well off of its intended course. Thankfully, she doesn't bother with the walk of shame to replace it on top of the dresser, only cursing under her breath at the humility of the event.

AMANDA: "There's a rough map of the area on there, with a to-do list and the places you'll have to go marked down."

AMANDA: "It's not entirely to scale, but it should be accurate enough you won't be confused on where to go."


YOU: "I would prefer if I didn't have to wear a bedsheet while doing them."

AMANDA: "There should be a cleaner pair of pants in the laundry downstairs. I'm absolutely taking the chance to wash those ones, though."

You lean out of the way as she smoothly sidesteps you, beelining for the odorous pants splayed out on the floor. Her face contorts into a grimace as she hesitantly picks them up. Holding them a modest distance away from herself, she quickly makes her way out of the bedroom.

YOU: "What, so that's it? You still haven't answered nearly every question I have."

AMANDA: "We'd be here all day, Raphael. If you want answers, you'll get plenty just from following that list."

AMANDA: "...and put the bedsheet back before you leave the room. I don't want it to get torn from you bringing it around the house."
No. 1050895 ID: de253f
File 167012843532.png - (12.91KB , 600x600 , map.png )

With that she walks out of the door's sightline, exiting to the right and - if you're hearing her footsteps correctly - heading downstairs. You jog towards the threshold hoping to catch up to her, but she's already gone from the foyer. There's a door directly across from the bedroom on the other side of the balcony, and a staircase extending down to a lower floor against the wall to your right. In the middle of the wall opposite the balcony is what you assume is the front door. A clock hangs a modest distance above it, the time reading out to be just past 7 in the morning. Although you're at a poor angle to see it, there appears to be a hallway leading further into the house beneath the balcony.

Postponing any continued investigation of the house's layout, you return to the note Amanda failed to toss on the dresser. Freeing a hand from the bedsheet to pick it up, you fumble with it a while in an attempt to unfold it without exposing yourself in the process. You eventually flatten it out with only moderate trial and error. Drawn upon it is a crude map with several highlights in blue pen, and a short to-do list beneath it.

* Pick up medical supplies from Werner
* Return textbooks to library
* Donation to church
* Appointment with Dr. Cronunburg at 5 o'clock sharp
No. 1050898 ID: 29fb4e

I guess start with with the medical supply pick up since it's closest, then return the book, and end the day donating to the church before waiting for your appointment.

Though speaking of the church... do you have any money?
No. 1050901 ID: 90c451

First off lets get some pants from the laundry, then we can put back the blanket. See if there's a shirt there too so we can hide our impromptu surgery scars.
After getting our clothing squared away lets head to Werner's to get the medical supplies.
No. 1050903 ID: 885f1a

>>1050898 addicts don't hve much money, one would think, BUT these are Amanda's errands, so presumably her money... assuming the medical supplies aren't already paid for ("pick up") and the donation is in money
dreadful overanalysing aside, the destinations plot a line, assuming you have the time for each destination on the way to they hospital
No. 1050909 ID: b01382

Go grab some pants, and see if there is maybe a spare shirt we can wear to cover our scar. The less people question it, the better.

>we just jogged
....okay, I think i lack a frame of referance, but normally thats a bad thing to do after a recent transplant. Several to be exact. Im gonna guess that either we're built different, or our friend is EXCEPTIONALLY skilled, bless her heart. Also check if there are any shoes our size? Did we even wear shoes? Do we need shoes? Different households have rules about wearing shoes indoors or not.

Fuck, i wanted to ask her if it was safe to eat, but considering she didn't leave us an "Idiot's List of Things not to do post Surgery" note, go find something light to eat for breakfast. Some juice or water, then maybe something soft like a banana or bread. No solids just yet incase that'll fuck up our stomach.

So first up is to determine how many books we need to return. If these are a lot of books then we might not be able to stop by Werner's place to pick up the medical supplies AND THEN carry all the books with us to return back to the library.
If its only a few books, we can probably do both. If its a lot of books then we should probably go to the library, then donate money to the church, then swing back home to grab the medical supplies before waiting for our appointment.
No. 1050911 ID: 15c72a

Welp, put the bedsheet back and I guess cover yourself with your hands so you can go get those clean pants. Or don't. She put you in that bed naked, she's already seen your junk.
No. 1050923 ID: f2320a

Ask why our face is so painful and ugly if those flappy things are ears, how does she see without eyes?
No. 1050931 ID: b01382

She left already
No. 1050960 ID: bbb04b

Return the bedsheet, get ye pants, and locate Amanda to ask where the textbooks and donation are at. It'd be embarrassing to have to come back after going to one of those places. If Amanda isn't even in the house anymore, try locating them yourself.

Whatever the case, we should tackle the medical supplies first because 1: It's closest, so if we need to come back we can do so quickly, and 2: In the case that don't find anything beyond something to clothe ourselves, that errand is the one that doesn't require us to bring anything.
No. 1051067 ID: de253f
File 167029287088.png - (7.59KB , 600x600 , bread.png )

>Plot course

There's a definite intended path these tasks are meant to be completed in. As the closest location, picking up the medical supplies is a clear candidate for your first stop. Then once you've relocated them back home, your next destination should be returning the textbooks to the library. Their computers will prove extraordinarily useful for information-gathering, presuming they have any. You can swing back around towards the forested area and up the hill afterwards, stopping by the church to deliver the donation on your way to attend your appointment at the hospital.

>Leave bedsheet

Albeit reluctant to traverse the house unclothed, you return the bedsheet to its rightful place, dedicating a bit of extra time to smoothing it out for courtesy.

Your work here mostly concluded, you exit the bedroom and proceed downstairs. Underneath the balcony and down the hall is an archway leading into what is blatantly a living room, the most notable objects being a television and the proverbial couch you sleep on. A few medical textbooks with a bill on top are stacked in the corner, which you deduce are for the errands. An open door lies at the end of the room, and within it you can spy furnshings typical of a kitchen. You probably haven't eaten in an astonishing amount of time, so you pass between the TV and couch to head through the doorway.

Once inside, you quickly begin scrutinizing your surroundings. There's another open door to your right, likely where Amanda is busy with a clotheswasher. Counters are lined up against the wall immediately ahead of you, with cabinets both above and beneath them, save for the sink. A fridge is tucked away into the leftmost corner, just enough space to open adequately. You're starting to notice a distinct absence of windows. It makes you feel less antsy about your exposure, but it's somewhat eerie.

>Soft foods

The wrong meal may very well be the difference between life and death, so you take caution into account of your options. You drink some water from the faucet without too much trouble, and find some bread from perusing the cabinets. Chewing is a uniquely terrible experience due to your incapability of fully opening your mouth, but you manage to eat enough slices to sate yourself for the time being.
No. 1051068 ID: de253f
File 167029289388.png - (7.40KB , 600x600 , pants.png )

Afterwards, you head to the next agape door, expecting to find the laundry and a less appalling pair of pants. As anticipated, you're greeted with a utility room upon entering, complete with a drying and washing machine. Amanda is squatting in front of the latter, tossing in assorted clothing from a basket on the ground beside her. She seems to not notice your presence, but you get the impression she just isn't acknowledging it. You make a point of avoiding eye contact with her butt, although it's rather arresting when she's crouched like that.


Lying on another basket of neatly folded clothes is none other than a pair of (clean) pants! You don't hesitate to snatch them from the pile, quickly slipping your legs into the pant holes. You are no longer an exhibitionist.


You try your best to search through the clean basket as delicately as possible for shirts, but the majority of them seem to be fitted for women. Unsurprising. It's certainly possible your figure is feminine enough to make something here work, but you wouldn't be caught dead wearing it, let alone alive.


You've yet to spot a single shoe throughout the house so far. Considering the homeowner's notably elephant-esque feet, it appears to be for a reason.


YOU: "...hey, how do you see if you don't have eyes?"

The closest Amanda comes to turning to face you is tilting her head as she shrugs her shoulders, she doesn't so much as interrupt her laundry-heaping in the process.
No. 1051069 ID: de253f
File 167029291449.png - (3.30KB , 600x600 , door.png )

Your objectives known and your undignified parts obfuscated, you are acceptably prepared to venture outdoors. There's still much you're perplexed about, but if what Amanda said is true, you won't figure things out staying in here. You backtrack through the previous rooms of the house, walking up to the front door. It's at this moment you have an epiphany: you don't know how to open doors.

It feels outlandish at first, but your loss of memory justifies it. However, it certainly doesn't mitigate your unbridled disdain toward this sudden roadblock. As your frustration at the circumstances boils up inside you, a personification is born. This door is mocking you. Your freedom is so tantalizingly near, yet it deprives you of it. An almost smug aura surrounds it in this new context. It just sits there, a defiant monolith, slighting you with its mere existence. It is your unequivocal nemesis at this precise moment.

>Tell it to open
>Grab the knob
>Tell it to fuck off
>Punch it as hard as you can
>Shout profanities at it
No. 1051070 ID: dee951

You can do several of these things!

Grab the knob! Inspect it for latches or locks or buttons or similar! Try various permutations of twisting the knob, while adjusting the status of the latches, or pulling or pushing on the knob!

Kick or punch at the door while screaming obscenities at it WHILE you do these things!!!
No. 1051071 ID: 5d9787

Don't know how doorknobs work and have an angry reaction toward it, you truly become a movie monster...

Try to be gentle, you don't want to damage Amanda's things.
What you have in front of you is a mechanism, learn how to operate it. Touch the distinct elements of the door, try to move them without much force. Explore until you figure out how to rotate the doorknob clockwise and pull.
No. 1051074 ID: 55d211

Grab knob. then turn it and pull. If that don’t work turn knob again and push. If that don’t work grab the door from the bottom and start lifting, if that don’t work grab the top and see if you can’t slide it down. If none of that works proceed to yell at door until it opens or at least until you feel better.
No. 1051075 ID: 90c451

Punching and kicking it seems like it would just hurt. You want this door out of the way, shoving it should do.
Maybe shove the door while fondling its knob to assert dominance.

>Wouldn't be caught dead wearing it.
Why? It's just a shirt. Still, I suppose if it's not ours...
We should probably get some clothes. Maybe a hoodie could hide our terrifying visage to the average passer-by.

Wait a second... If you were a drug addict then how'd you keep your teeth so pearly white? Something doesn't add up here. Did we bleach our teeth?
No. 1051076 ID: 15c72a

Manipulate the knob. Really show it a good time.
No. 1051077 ID: ba605b

Stay calm and try to REMEMBER how doors work. Spend like, a few minutes trying. Failing that, try to carfully twist thr door knob clockwise then gently pull. If that does not work, let the door knob reset, then twist it carefully counter clockwise then pull. Failing that, let go of the knob and check to see if there is a button or twister knob on the door handle.
No. 1051103 ID: 06ed49

you have to lick the doorknob until it feels satisfied enough to let you pass!
No. 1051108 ID: 37689a

You can't let it get it to you. You have to shwo this door that a big boy and know how to open doors. This inanimate object won't stop your road to self healing! Grab that knob and try tisting it first. If it muves, try pulling, or pushing. If nothing happes, see if it has some sort of botton.
No. 1051169 ID: 0b790f

Take a breath, and try to analyze.

Doors are something that people presumably have to use all the time. So the action of going through them should neither be damaging to the door, nor particularly onerous. Start manipulating the knob and the hinges gently to see if anything involving simple actions changes the door state.
No. 1051185 ID: b01382

>scar line kinda looks like an arrow pointing to your dick
No. 1051296 ID: de253f
File 167052351920.png - (6.71KB , 600x600 , trouble.png )

>Stay calm

Maintaining your cool is not the greater force in comparison to your blistering chagrin by a wide margin, but you know better than to fly off the handle over this activity you will undoubtedly have to repeat numerous times today. It does no favors to reduce your rapidly-building stress right now, though.

>Grab the knob

Your quivering hand reaches out and wraps itself around the doorknob. You're incredibly reluctant to do anything with it, owing to the fact that could end up barring you from entry - or rather exit - even harder. It takes a while before you can muster up the courage to start moving it. But the floodgate opened upon your mind of various techniques with which to move it proves too much to bear, and instead of any coherent engagement, you just kind of aimlessly jiggle it in random directions.

That certainly doesn't stop you from trying a number of methods. You push it in, pull it out, tug it left and right, and apply judicious amounts of body weight against as many sections of the door itself you think might reasonably give way depending on the position of the knob. The burgeoning rancor of your failed attempts is disrupted by Amanda calling out a ways behind you.

AMANDA: "Are you alright? You've been screwing with the doorknob for 10 minutes straight."

>"I forgot how doors work. Help."
>Ignore her and continue stubbornness
>Faceplant into door from critical humiliation
>"Please kill me."
No. 1051298 ID: b01382

>"I forgot how doors work. Help."
No. 1051301 ID: 663c95

Yup. Or possibly, "Why have you installed a fiendish puzzle on your door?"
No. 1051335 ID: dee951

>"I forgot how doors work. Help."

No. 1051337 ID: 15c72a

>"I forgot how doors work. Help."
No. 1051392 ID: 2aa5f0

>"I forgot how doors work. Help."
No. 1051395 ID: 90c451

"I feel as if I'm in some sort of prank show and the host is gonna show up and reveal that this door is fake."
No. 1051401 ID: 37689a

>"I forgot how doors work. Help."
Eh... why not. Baby steps.
No. 1051579 ID: de253f
File 167088012075.png - (7.14KB , 600x600 , open sesame.png )

>"I forgot how doors work. Help."

AMANDA: "...what?"

YOU: "I said I forgot how-"

AMANDA: "Nononono, I know what you said, I meant the 'why' part."

YOU: "Because you installed some kind of godforsaken puzzle on your door?"

AMANDA: "It's a doorknob, Raphael."

YOU: "A real one? Or is some well-dressed guy about to manifest behind a corner and reveal it was fake all along?"

The noise Amanda makes can't be easily described. It sounds like a mix between a sigh, a groan, and a death rattle. She speedwalks over to you and her hand goes straight to the knob, rotating it sideways and pushing it forward. The door miraculously swings open, the warmth of the sunlight spreading pins and needles across your face as it pours in. A set of stairs leads to the sidewalk, the railings of which give you the impression you'll need a tetanus shot if your hands go anywhere near them.

AMANDA: "Well? Have you been thoroughly educated in the art of door-opening?"

YOU: "Yes, I was looking directly at your hands the whole time."

AMANDA: "Perfect, then I don't have to worry about you busting down every door in your path. Good luck."
No. 1051580 ID: de253f
File 167088014944.png - (9.38KB , 600x600 , town.png )

Amanda turns on the spot and heads back toward the kitchen, and you estimate that's your cue to leave. Getting down to the sidewalk becomes considerably harrowing, as your insistence to not make any physical contact with the railing magnifies the danger of each step onto the following stair. Walking on a horizontal plane is no challenge for you, and your applied knowledge allows you to traverse stairways with similar ease, but this one in particular has thrown you off due to the lack of support. It takes very deliberate steps for you to descend safely, thankfully the only damage being a small bout of terror.

Using the map as a guide, you travel down the block along the shortest route to Werner's house. Surveying your surroundings reveals Amanda was indeed right about the scale of the town, as it seems to sprawl on much vaster than you were led to believe. Towering cubical houses with tight alleys flank either side of the road, uniform and imposing. Speaking of the road, you have yet to spot a single car neither driving nor parked, in fact there's no parking space to the sides of it whatsoever.

Your observations grind to a halt when your eyes lock with a pedestrian on the parallel sidewalk. You hadn't paid much mind to them earlier, as in none at all, but you couldn't tell anything wasn't quite right until they were closer. Their head looks like... an octopus? Clearly none you've ever seen, as several beady pearl-like eyes dot the upper half of their face. Writhing tentacles hang from their jaw, draping over what appears to be a humble pair of breasts. You suppose 'she' would be the proper term of address in such a case, but even that's uncertain at this rate. The realization you're probably in the middle rung of hideousness is not one you were ready for at all.
No. 1051581 ID: de253f
File 167088017069.png - (8.98KB , 600x600 , werner.png )

The octo-person crosses the street straight ahead, relieving you of the terrible thought of having to cross paths just to get to your destination. You make your way to the western blocks as quickly as possible to avoid any other encounters. Surprisingly, you do. As far as you can see, absolutely no one else is walking around town. The isolation rapidly changes from a vague sense of security to creeping paranoia, and you unconsciously begin to increase your pace.

Finally, you make it to the base of the steps to what you presume is Werner's house, if the map is correct. Your fear of climbing the stairs without having a rail to grab is largely overrided by your desire to get the hell back inside a building. Firmly knocking on the door, you soon hear the strange noise of two pairs of footsteps approaching in tandem, and after a moment it swings open. What stands on the other side causes you to instantly freeze in place.

This creature is truly unspeakable, whatever it is. 'Centaur' is the first thing that comes to mind, but it has hands where you would expect hooves to be. Four distorted limbs extend from its torso in a manner excruciating just to look at, and three bulging eyes stare at you from within a head you cannot possibly name the shape of. Despite lacking a mouth entirely, a voice emanates from its face.

WERNER?: "Hm, you're not who I was expecting..."

You get the totally unwarranted feeling there's something very, very wrong with this world.

>"Okay, why the fuck does everyone look like a museum piece made by some deranged sculptor?"
>"I'm here on behalf of Amanda, to pick up medical supplies from... you?"
>"Uh, your name wouldn't happen to be Werner would it?"
>React with overexaggerated shock and horror
>Nope out
No. 1051589 ID: 9e73c2

>"I'm here on behalf of Amanda, to pick up medical supplies from... you?"
>"Uh, your name wouldn't happen to be Werner would it?"

These, in any order is fine. Or maybe starting by asking the name and then why you are here? I'm not sure.
No. 1051590 ID: 2aa5f0

>"Uh, your name wouldn't happen to be Werner would it?"
>"I'm here on behalf of Amanda, to pick up medical supplies from... you?"

Whelp, when you're in a situation where you have no idea what's going on. I find it's best to shut up, do what you're told, see if you can't piece things together as you go along, and hope no one notices how lost you are.
No. 1051595 ID: 084179

Good news! You're not the only freak show! Take comfort the the fact you're not the only stage looking person here. No no one can give you shit about your eyes and smile.

No. 1051603 ID: a7a180

Why does everyone look like the doodles in my high school notebook?!
No. 1051611 ID: 2d7ac1

Exagerated shock and horror! Exagerated shock and horror!

Either that or the deranged sculptor thing.
No. 1051620 ID: 90c451

"Heyyyy... Werner? Monster that stole Werner's soul? You know what? Doesn't matter, I don't remember who Werner is so it wouldn't make a difference."
"Were you expecting a package?"

Okay, well, good news is at the end of our errand running spree we'll be at the library, there we can research what the hell is... everything? Yeah, add that to the to-do list. "Find out why the hell all of us are monsters."
No. 1051652 ID: 9e4268

So, note. There is a choice to be made. Do you want to A. Pretend you're normal, or B. Let people know you've lost your memory?

If A, don't say anything about anything weird. Try to cover up any involuntary reactions. Say Amanda sent you on whatever errand you're here for.
If B, you can open with, "Sorry, I've lost my memory. Do I already know you? Amanda sent me here on an errand."

Going with B makes it easier to gather info, but also means some people might take advantage of your handicap. Given you were an addict with presumable dealers etc., there probably are a number of the latter. (Say no to drugs now, btw.)

You could TRY for some kind of middle ground, "not feeling well", "have a headache", something, but like, it'd be hard.
No. 1052745 ID: b01382

I need sexy rabbit men in stockings and a garter belt.
No. 1060910 ID: 79582c
File 168088263448.png - (6.19KB , 600x600 , awkward.png )

* Pick up medical supplies from Werner
* Return textbooks to library
* Donation to church
* Appointment with Dr. Cronunburg at 5 o'clock sharp
* Find out why everyone looks so fucked up

>Good news! You're not the only freak show!
In less bewildering circumstances, this fact might almost be comforting.

>"Uh, your name wouldn't happen to be Werner would it?"

For a moment, he simply stares. His eyes quickly scan the space beyond the door before returning to you. A sense of apprehension radiates from the single nod he gives.

>"I'm here on behalf of Amanda, to pick up medical supplies from... you?"

Upon the words exiting your mouth, something inside his head seems to suddenly click into place, changing his entire demeanor. His back straightens, and his shoulders relax.

WERNER: "Oh. Oh! So you're..."

He cuts himself off. There are clearly several emotions running through his brain right now. His vision gleams over you from head to toe, as if to confirm he is indeed seeing what he's seeing.

WERNER: "Wait, why did Amanda send you this time? Is something wrong?"

YOU: "No? At least I don't think so. As far as I'm aware, she just sent me to do a couple errands so she didn't have to."

Werner is silent, averting his gaze downwards in contemplation. It takes some time until he responds.

WERNER: "Right, the medical supplies. I suppose I should be a good host and let you in."
No. 1060912 ID: 79582c
File 168088266719.png - (9.36KB , 600x600 , chat.png )

He backs out of the doorway and shuffles to the side, making way for you to enter. He does not bother to close the door behind you. The layout inside is mostly identical to Amanda's house, the only notable exception being a closet underneath the staircase. Werner heads straight towards it, swings the door open, and starts walking back to you.

WERNER: "They're in the short metal box with the briefcase handle, second shelf down from the top. Mind the weight."

WERNER: "Oh, and try to be careful with it. There's fragile goods in that one and it's going to take a while until I can get anything more."

WERNER: "My inside man's been having trouble with recent tightened security, so it took a lot of money and time to get them smuggled."

WERNER: "Consider this an opportunity for me to flash you my asshole."

YOU: "Excuse me?"

WERNER: "Relax, I don't mean literally. Nobody wants to see that."

>Mention amnesia?

On one hand, wearing your lack of memory on your sleeve would help alleviate any potential confusion. On the other hand, acting like everything is fine upstairs is the better option for fitting in, and also not getting taken advantage of. You could theoretically have it both ways, but maintaining the facade will require a superhuman effort. Regardless, now is probably a good time to think of any questions worth asking.

>Pretend you're normal
>Be honest about your memory loss
>The weird inbetween option
No. 1060926 ID: 2aa5f0

>Pretend you're normal

uhhhhhh, unless you get caught in a position where he's calling you out for something or ask directly maybe best to keep that fact to yourself. Guys seems a bit high strung and I'm not sure what will set him off.

Though now I'm wonder if we should head back home after this if their really are fragile things in that case like he says. Would hate for something to brake while we finish off the errands.
No. 1060928 ID: 30de7b

Yeah, I guess pretend you're normal until caught?? At least until you get a better handle on who's who and what's what. Maybe ask what's-her-bucket once you can.
No. 1060945 ID: 9fda86

>Pretend you're normal
Let's go with that and see what happens.
No. 1060985 ID: f2320a

>How do you have so many arms? Sweaters must be more complicated then a doorknob to get on?
>you seem like a smart medical guy... why do people look so different only thing that seems consistent is girls have breast and dudes have dicks
No. 1069460 ID: 79582c
File 169083557944.png - (6.39KB , 600x600 , briefcase.png )

>Pretend you're normal

You ultimately decide it's for the best to keep your amnesia a secret from now on. It's inevitable you won't be able to uphold the lie forever, but it's worth avoiding any complications that might arise from the alternative.

Regardless, there's still one question that could easily blow your cover which you just can't find it in yourself to leave unspoken...

>"How do you have so many arms?"

Werner responds by staring at you as if he's trying to process what you just said. Suddenly, he gets a vague look of understanding in his eyes, and starts muttering something to himself.

WERNER: "Huh, I guess I shouldn't be surprised you'd be a runaway from..."

He trails off, no longer looking you in the eye as he's clearly stuck in deep thought. This doesn't last long, and he soon snaps back to reality.

WERNER: "Yes, well... It's not something I can really explain, per se. If the brightest minds of the world haven't been able to do that for hundreds of years, I don't think I could either."

WERNER: "In simple terms, there's two groups that you fall under depending on what criteria you meet."

WERNER: "The "humanoids" are exactly what you think. Two arms, two legs, stands upright, and so on. You should already be familiar with them, seeing as you are one."

WERNER: "Then you have "malforms" where it gets a bit more... complicated. See, a humanoid will sometimes have some odd characteristics, like speaking without a mouth. With a malform, that kind of thing gets pushed to the limit."

WERNER: "To put it into perspective, I would be considered relatively 'normal' for a malform. I'd elaborate, but I don't want to bleed you of any more of your time. That package won't deliver itself."

You nod, walking past Werner and toward the closet. As expected, there's a metallic shelf inside with the box right where he said it would be. Despite being rather small, it's considerably heavier than it looks, and it takes some effort to pick up. The weight feels almost like a dumbell in your hand. You head back to the front door and silently give a goodbye wave to Werner, which he reciprocates lazily. You shut the door behind you as you exit, navigating down the steps with higher confidence and back onto the sidewalk.

The conscious thing to do would be returning to Amanda's house immediately, since you can't exactly finish the other tasks at the moment anyway. However, you do have several hours of spare time that could be spent elsewhere until then.

>Return to Amanda's house
>Make a detour elsewhere?
No. 1069480 ID: 462d8c

Just return to Amanda's house
No. 1069496 ID: 073609

Might as well head back home. From the map earlier their really didn’t seem like their was much to do in town excepts maybe go to the park but that’s in the opposite direction from Amanda’s place and you probably shouldn’t risk losing or breaking to case you just got. I mean you probably have enough problems with the whole “can’t remember shit” and the “ you apparently almost died”. Probably should add people have a hard time trusting you since you fucked up a simple delivery mission after have to be taught how to open a door on top of all that.
No. 1069516 ID: 44def3

Okay so that explains why Amanda can see, that's one of her "odd characteristics".

Anyway time to deliver errand #1. Things are going great! I mean, apparently you were nearly non-functional before Amanda saved you. That's pretty cool.
No. 1069574 ID: 8f9bc4

Be sure to thank Amanda for introducing you to Werner. Her sight makes much more sense, now that you've spoken with a man without a mouth.
No. 1069954 ID: 48c015

Let's not tempt fate. We have much else to do, so we should go back to Amanda, we can fun stuff tomorrow.
[Return] [Entire Thread] [Last 50 posts]

Delete post []
Report post