Not another text quest.

TK 2011/02/28(Mon)20:01 No. 285212 ID: 543aa6
File 129895210270.png - (5.48KB , 875x475 , blackout.png )

I don't know where I am or how I got here.

I don't even know who I am.

And I can't see a damn thing.

feel around for a light switch

Feel around for nipples.

Feel around for your partner. Hopefully they are same sex as you.

TK 2011/02/28(Mon)20:42 No. 285235 ID: 543aa6
File 129895457032.png - (5.49KB , 875x475 , 3.png )

>>285214
>>285216
>>285217

I reach out. My hand doesn't find any light switches. It sure as shit doesn't find any nipples. It's been years since I've had anyone I'd describe as my "partner"... and even when I did, she wasn't the same sex as me.

The back of my hand touches cold glass.

Hope's not even in my vocabulary anymore.

>>285235
>I don't know who I am
>I remember about my sexual experiences from the past.

Call out, ask if anyone is there.

>>285235
Make a bird noise.

TK 2011/02/28(Mon)20:52 No. 285239 ID: 543aa6
File 129895515975.png - (5.48KB , 875x475 , 4.png )

>>285236

What should I say?

>>285239

Uhh, I don't know, "hello, anyone there? I can't think for myself and make simple connections in an attempt at constructing dialogue, so I have to ask the mind voices to spell it out for me."

Try opening your eyes, champ

TK 2011/02/28(Mon)21:11 No. 285252 ID: 543aa6
File 129895629726.png - (19.17KB , 875x475 , 5.png )

>>285237

Sure, why not? I whistle like a mockingbird.

>>285241

OK, I mutter something like that. Doesn't do me any good.

>>285242

It gets brighter. Not much, but enough. The bartender doesn't look too happy.

"Hey, mac. Wake up. Come on. I can't have you sleepin' here. Not while I'm on the clock."

My head hurts. My mouth tastes like an open sewer.

>>285252
Ask for one for the road.

>>285253
this.

TK 2011/02/28(Mon)21:22 No. 285257 ID: 543aa6
File 12989569302.png - (19.54KB , 875x475 , 6.png )

>>285253
>>285254

"Say, how about one for the road? Send me off in style?"

>"Sorry, buddy. Can't do it. You're cut off. I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

Well, better whip out the wallet you hopefully have and see who you are while stumbling outside.

Remember to lay on your side so you don't drown in your own vomit.

TK 2011/02/28(Mon)21:50 No. 285277 ID: 543aa6
File 129895863675.png - (19.65KB , 875x475 , 7.png )

>>285264

>"Tab's twenty-two bucks."

I've got forty dollars cash.

>>285268

If I was going to choke on my own puke, it would have happened a long time ago.

>>285277
I guess you really probably haven't got much choice but to head on off, then.

pay the man and try to figure out where you live.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)07:38 No. 285345 ID: 543aa6
File 129899389884.png - (20.04KB , 875x475 , 8.png )

>>285296

I pay my tab, plus five bucks. Because one should always tip.

I know where I live. Getting there, I reckon, will be the hard part.

>>285345
How far away do you live? Think you could afford a cab?

>>285345
Ask him what places are open where you could get an extra one for the road right now.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)14:33 No. 285456 ID: 543aa6
File 129901883069.png - (19.65KB , 875x475 , 9.png )

>>285364

I live about a mile away. I can walk.

>>285437

>"I know a place on the corner where you can get a bottle of wine in a paper bag for about two bucks."

Forget it, you're soused enough as it is. Apologize for the trouble, head on out, get a cab. Sleep this one off. No way would drinking more help anything, even whatever problems you think you have.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)15:00 No. 285483 ID: 543aa6
File 129902045980.png - (19.65KB , 875x475 , 10.png )

>>285474

Yeah, probably time to call it a night.

"Hey, thanks. Sorry if i caused you any trouble."

>"No worries, pal. Just sleep this one off, you'll feel a lot better."

>>285483
I guess that means actually start walking back now!

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)15:11 No. 285496 ID: 543aa6
File 129902110949.png - (18.21KB , 875x475 , 11.png )

On my way out, I encounter three rather ugly roadblocks.

The fat one sticks out his leg to trip me. The tall one slurs, "Headin' out, faggot?" The mustachioed one spits on the wall.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)15:29 No. 285501 ID: 543aa6
File 129902217781.png - (18.84KB , 875x475 , 12.png )

The fat one leans in and, with a voice like he's got a mouthful of bristles and breath like he flosses with cheap beer, asks
>"What's your name?"

>>285501
Introduce yourself by stabbing him in the face with a beer glass. Should make a lasting impression.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)16:06 No. 285515 ID: 543aa6
File 129902436365.png - (19.85KB , 875x475 , 13.png )

Please allow me to introduce myself, my name is

I grab a pint glass off the bar and smash it in his goddamned face. He bleeds and crumples. His friends cringe and shrink back. The bartender shrieks behind me.

"Jesus-jumped-up-fiddling-fucking-Christ!"

I figure I made a lasting impression. One that he - and whatever poor doctor is going to have the misfortune of trying to stitch his face back together - won't soon forget.

I make for the door.

be ready to punch faces if the other two try to stop you.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)16:44 No. 285522 ID: 543aa6
File 129902666891.png - (55.32KB , 875x475 , 14.png )

>>285518

Even if they weren't busy tending to their mutilated friend, I doubt either of them has the sack to come after me.

Still, I keep my guard up. Always.

I step outside, into the rain and the cold.

I wish I had my hat.

>>285522
Grab the top of that garbage can and use it as a hat.

>>285522
You're too sober to deal with this shit. Lets find a remedy for that. Go look for a liqour store.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)17:15 No. 285530 ID: 543aa6
File 129902851319.png - (60.49KB , 875x475 , 15.png )

>>285523

I am not that desperate for a hat

and I'd rather have rain on my head than garbage and tin.

>>285524

I am many things, but at the moment "too sober" is certainly not one of them.

>>285530
Your head hurts and your mouth tastes like shit. More booze should solve both of those.

But if you're not going to go for that then it's probably time to head for home.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)18:03 No. 285544 ID: 543aa6
File 129903142623.png - (61.28KB , 875x475 , 16.png )

>>285540

Home's not-

>"Get in."

Call for that taxi.

he knew you would be here, probably has a gun, get in.

>>285544
Get in if he has a gun or you recognise the guy a friendly fellow. If he doesn't have a gun or isn't a friendly fellow then jump back into the bar and grab another pitcher or a bottle or something.

>>285544
Nevermind. Get in if it's a friendly (or at least somewhat friendly) face you recognize, or if they have a gun. Otherwise, try to suss the situation out a bit more first. Find out who's asking and why.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)18:23 No. 285553 ID: 543aa6
File 129903260446.png - (60.23KB , 875x475 , 17.png )

He doesn't look friendly.

He does look like he might have a gun.

I get in the car.

>>285553
Ask him what he wants and where you're going.

You're not too drunk to beat the shit out of him and his possible gun, are you? If you are, it might be wise to sober up damn fast.

>>285554 
>Ask him what he wants 
Nah. We too badass for that. 

Maybe ask where we off to, though. Real casual, like.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)18:46 No. 285560 ID: 543aa6
File 12990339604.png - (64.91KB , 875x475 , 18.png )

It's a nice car. Fancy.

I have no complaints about the car.

We drive in silence, up country roads that border town. Into hills on the outskirts.

As we pass a wrought iron fence into a tree-lined driveway, my chauffeur informs me that we've reached our destination, and that Mrs. Van Buren desires to speak with me.

I don't know any Mrs. Van Buren.

>>285560
Lets hope it's not some sort of rape dungeon thing.

Anyway, get out like a boss and go see this lady. She's probably some hyeterical dame that has a job for you. One that you can't turn down.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)19:05 No. 285569 ID: 543aa6
File 129903514576.png - (75.52KB , 875x475 , 19.png )

>>285562

I haven't yet met a job - or a dame, for that matter - that I couldn't turn down. And

it's not a dungeon. It's a mansion.

I head up the walkway, gravel crunching under my boots.

neat.

What kind of maniac would build a mansion like that

>>285569
As if mansions can't have dungeons. And there is always ways to be convincing. Like a knife to your throat.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)19:33 No. 285580 ID: 543aa6
File 129903683530.png - (24.94KB , 875x475 , 20.png )

I open the front door and step inside.

Hinges creak in doorless chambers.

I walk up the stairway in the dim foyer.

Strange and frightening sounds echo through the halls.

I walk down a passage adorned with baroque, expensive-looking artwork. Into a beautiful room.

Candle lights flicker, though the air is deathly still.

Rain assaults the windowpanes. I squint against the bright.

And there she is.

I don't know any Mrs. Van Buren.

She was always Rose to me.

>>285580
Well then, ask why she has invited you over.

I bet it's going to be something about her husband.

ask her for what you owe the pleasure.

Tom kiss Rose

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)19:52 No. 285585 ID: 543aa6
File 129903797943.png - (22.29KB , 875x475 , 21.png )

It's been a long time.

She shimmers in my eyes. She's almost glowing.

Damn my soul, she's still beautiful.

And she looks like she's about to cry.

>"It's..."

It's an illusion, of course. Her eyes are wet, glazed with tears. There's a hitch in her voice, a lump in her throat, choking back a sob. But she won't break. I know her.

And I've never seen her cry.

>"it's good to see you again. I..."

She's in trouble.

>"I need your help."

>>285585
Well then, lets hear what she needs and what she's offering. Probably going to be something on the shady side of the law.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)20:11 No. 285588 ID: 543aa6
File 129903910048.png - (25.30KB , 875x475 , 22.png )

>>285584

I

>>285582

ask, trying not to let my voice tremble, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

>"It's... it's my husband."

>>285581

Lucky guess.

Her husband, the millionaire. He's missing, she tells me. He left this afternoon, she says. He was looking for a private investigator. But not just any P.I.

He was looking for me.

>>285588
That seems weird. Well whatever. You're going to need to know why he was looking for you as well as what enemies he has and any skeletons that might be in his closet.

yes, you need any facts you can get. then you can start thinking of where to look. maybe solving the mystery he wanted you to work on would lead you to him.

Well, ask her to go on. Try to put your past feelings aside at least long enough to hear the details.

>>285588
Looking in the sense that he wanted to employ you? Or does he have a bone to pick with you?

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)21:20 No. 285608 ID: 543aa6
File 129904320512.png - (24.95KB , 875x475 , 23.png )

>>285603

Good question. She says it's the former.

>>285602

The details are: she wants me to find him, no questions asked.

I guess she still l*&^%$#@!oves him.

>>285590

No enemies. Ditto skeletons.

As for why he was looking for me...

she says he told her that someone was trying to kill him.

Kinda funny for someone who says he's got no enemies.

>>285593

As for where to go...

she says her driver is parked out front, and at my disposal.

>>285608
See, that's the problem there. Someone wants to kill him, hence he has enemies. Yet his wife insists that he has none, so he has been lying to her. Which means that she's not a reliable source of information. Tell her that you're going to need to talk to old staff that has worked there for a long time as well as whoever was responsible for transporting him the day he vanished.

Hmm. Odd stuff going on here. Does your mind feel clear? Eyes working okay?

Accept the job. Go to your house, maybe he visited.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)23:15 No. 285639 ID: 543aa6
File 129905014014.png - (61.22KB , 875x475 , 24.png )

>>285587

It's all above ground. What she needs is my help. What she's offering...

she says if I find her husband, I can name my price.

>>285609

The staff is off for the holiday. It's just Rose and the driver. When her husband left, he went out alone.

>>285624

My eyeballs feel like pinballs and my mind feels like a fish.

I accept the job. Of course I do.

I don't have a house, but I ask the driver to take me to my office. It's as good a place to
start as any, I guess.

TK 2011/03/01(Tue)23:31 No. 285642 ID: 543aa6
File 129905110824.png - (66.56KB , 875x475 , 25.png )

Twenty minutes later, I get dropped off on the curb outside the old, grim-looking building that houses my office. The driver parks around back and says I can let him know if and when I need a ride somewhere. Then he turns on the radio and dozes off behind the wheel.

It's still raining.

I need a) a drink b) a cigarette c) a decent night's sleep d) some answers.

E.) Any or all of the above.

>>285642
Getting in out of the rain is a start.

I would suggest getting a tall glass of water to ward off the horrible hangover you're due for taking a shower, finding some dry clothes and passing out on the bed.

>>285642
Hopefully you have some of those things in your office. Time to crash and then meet the morning with a bright smile and a willingness to do some damage. Going to need to find out what route the guy traveled to get to your office, when he left and also why he didn't turn to the cops with this. That last one is probably something you can ask the driver about.

>>285642
Ask the driver how much he knows. We'll have to ask Rose why her husband didn't just ask her... Probably because her husband doesn't know about her and you, but if the answer is different that might lead in an interesting direction. Also WHY he was looking for you. After that, send him home. You've already gotten cut off, you're in no shape to do any work. Then do >>285645

Water is important. Hangovers are bad.

TK 2011/03/02(Wed)02:41 No. 285671 ID: 543aa6
File 129906251462.png - (26.56KB , 875x475 , 26.png )

>>285645
>>285650
>>285651

All good thoughts.

I could use some rest - a nap on the couch, maybe.

I trudge up the stairs (elevator's broken).

Down the hall.

I step into my office.

Mr. Van Buren's waiting for me.

on my couch.

Not moving.

Not breathing.

Bleeding.

>>285671
A job well done. Call Rose and then the hospital.

Is he dead or only soon-to-be? If he's not dead yet, attempt to keep him alive.

>>285671
Check for vital signs and see how warm he is. Also, time for some crime scene investigation. There can't be anything in here that links you to the murder more directly. He's already in your office which is suspect as fucking hell, but it would be nice to avoid if there were things like them using a gun stored in your desk drawer to do the dead or something like that. Or notes about how you still love the dame and hate this guy. Once you're sure about that then we can call proper authorities.

Check your fucking apartment. Whoever was chasing the husband could be wrapping the whole thing with a bow by setting you up as the fall guy. He could still be here.

TK 2011/03/02(Wed)16:35 No. 285767 ID: 543aa6
File 12991125158.png - (28.15KB , 875x475 , 27.png )

>>285673
>>285699

I feel for a pulse. His skin is cold to the touch. He's dead. Probably has been for a while.

I don't keep my gun in my desk, I keep it on me. And even if I was the love note type, the time for that has long since passed.

I hear sirens in the distance.

>>285767
Yeah your ass got framed like fucking hell. What do you want to bet that she's the one who had him killed?

Anyway, despite the fact that you will look more guilty if you run you should probably do so. You can't find the truth or get revenge while locked up.

We can't be sure this is a frame-up. Check the white powder on the sofa... then take a look in the back room.

Consider calling the police yourself. You'll look a lot less guilty if you don't assume the sirens are police heading here.

Call the cops, just for the sake of covering your tracks. While on the phone, do what you normally do with a stiff. Look for evidence.

I hate to be the one to point this out, but there appears to be someone outside your door. Get that gun you talked about ready.

Oh shit you're right! Turn around, wield gun, chase person if they flee.

TK 2011/03/03(Thu)20:41 No. 286062 ID: 543aa6
File 129921368947.png - (27.88KB , 875x475 , 28.png )

The pistol is cold but comforting in my hand. I pull back the hammer with my thumb. There is a metallic click.

As if in answer, there's a similar sound from the other side of the door.

>>286062

Shoot first, kill the man. You've already killed that man on the couch, and now they've come to kill you! Run, run away, pilfer the body for bullets. Save one last one for yourself, to off yourself when the police dogs are on your heels.

Do it, quick, live like a hero!

>>286062
Probably the driver, come to finish you off. Open fire and then dive towards the wall for cover.

You have no idea who it is.
If it's a detective or a cop, opening fire is a death sentence.
If it's someone who hung around to rub you out, they would have shot you before giving you a chance to react, when your back was to them.
So either they don't mean to kill you or they don't know you're aware of their presence. Use this to your advantage.
Take up a defensive spot, maybe behind the door, and keep the pistol handy. But for Christ's sake, check your shot.

Get away from the door! You don't want to get shot through it. Then tell him to drop the gun.

Calling out to ask who it is could be a very stupid idea. So don't do that. But DO take up a better more defensive spot and hope they don't know where you are in the dark. This is your office. Your battlefield. You know it better than they do. Play to your homefield advantage.

TK 2011/03/04(Fri)21:39 No. 286283 ID: 543aa6
File 129930359224.jpg - (27.48KB , 875x475 , 29.jpg )

As the door swings open, I quickly and quietly step behind it.

After a second's hesitation, a young man steps into the office, gun held out in front of him. He looks more like a college student than a killer.

There's enough light spilling in from the hall for him to see the body on the couch. He gives a sharp intake of breath and mutters to himself.

"Jesus fuck..."

He glances around the room, pointing the too-large handgun, but his eyes haven't adjusted to the dark yet. I can tell he's trying to sound tough, but his voice is shaking.

"If there's anyone in here, you better come out, or else I'm gonna blow your fucking head off!"

We would prefer him alive.

Quickly, quietly step out behind him.
Put the gun to the back of his neck, cock it loudly enough for him to realize he's fucked. Then say something slick as hell, like "What are you lookin' for, kittycat?"

"So you didn't shoot him, then. Who sent you to my office?"

>>286283
Pistolwhip him on the back of the head. Lightly, he just needs to be a bit groggy in the head and drop the gun. Then you can drag him away with you and ask him questions later.

TK 2011/03/06(Sun)00:08 No. 286495 ID: 543aa6
File 129939887868.jpg - (27.90KB , 875x475 , 30.jpg )

I step out from behind the door. I don't know how he hears me over the approaching sirens, but he does.

He whirls around, firing wildly at the sound - at me.

There's a deafening report, then a dull metallic thud as the slug punches a large hole in the filing cabinet behind me.

His first shot has missed my head by less than a foot.

Do not shoot.

Instead call him four eyes, or coke bottle glasses, or dweeb.

Yeah, dweebs need to know they are dweebs.

Jesus christ. What the fuck? Get down, dive behind the desk, and yell at him to stop shooting, you idiot, I didn't kill the guy.

>>286495
Tackle him! You reaaaallly don't want to start out your "I'm not a murderer!" quest with you actually killing someone.

TK 2011/03/06(Sun)05:53 No. 286536 ID: 543aa6
File 129941960093.jpg - (28.55KB , 875x475 , 31.jpg )

>>286503
>>286506

It takes me about one second to start to move.

It takes him less than that to pull the trigger again.

I get lucky.

The bullet only catches me in the shoulder.

Anyone who's ever been shot knows the impact comes before the pain. I feel like I've been hit with a sledgehammer.

My knees buckle. My vision blurs. His finger is still on the trigger.

...

I feel like we're basically being forced to shoot the guy here.

Shoot him in the leg, then.

Sigh. Shoot him.

It's nearly pitch-black in here, and only because your eyes have adjusted can you see. Meanwhile the guy is a crack shot, but he's wearing coke bottles for glasses. He was practically a foot away from the body when he saw it and the soaked blood gave it away.
The guy's nearly blind, but his reactions -- especially when not facing you -- suggest that he's got exceptional hearing to make up for it. No one makes a blind shot like that unless they heard your exact location.

Get low to the floor is your best bet. Sorta crouch-dive/run at him. Stay low and he'll keep aiming high, because your footsteps can't tell him if you're standing straight up.
So he'll shoot over you, and you can make for the tackle or direct disarm, whichever you're more confident of. That or just get past his arm and jam the gun in his gut so he knows not to stop shooting. You want to move on this guy, you gotta stay under his radar.

Besides, with your shoulder like that, the force alone's gonna throw your aim with your other arm. You shoot now you'll only get one shot, and the odds aren't in your favor for accuracy.

>>286615
Wow, good advice!

TK 2011/03/06(Sun)16:11 No. 286661 ID: 543aa6
File 129945667629.png - (24.92KB , 875x475 , 32.png )

>>286537
>>286550

It's true. Maybe there's a part of me that has wanted to shoot this kid from the word "go".

Maybe I wanted it badly enough that I didn't let myself consider other options.

But I've killed men before - in the war - and I know from experience I'd hate myself for it later.

>>286615

I drop down, and his third bullet goes right where my throat used to be. Then I push off hard with both legs, up and forward. One of my shoulders is a mess - with the other, I hit him in the solar plexus as hard as I can. The impact actually lifts him off the ground.

>>286615
>>286661
ID: 543aa6
ಠ_ಠ
Not that I'm complaining about the freebie, but... uh, that's not really cool.

Keep using your uninjured arm and get that gun away from him.

>>286737
We're in the same house you dumbass
Unless you think I'm the one writing this

>>286745
Oh. Well I don't have everyone's IDs memorized. Jeez.

no, he thought TK suggested in his own quest.

>>286751
I'll just post with my name every time from now on to avoid confusion.

ANYWAY. Hit the ground already. Pin the scrawny fuck with your forearm or whatever. Elbow him in the face. Get the gun off him. Slap him around a bit. Insult his mother. Ask who he is and what he wants.

>>286755
Not necessarily in that order. Insulting his mother is the most important part, though. Don't forget that one.

TK 2011/03/07(Mon)02:34 No. 286775 ID: 543aa6
File 129949407552.png - (18.11KB , 875x475 , 33.png )

The momentum carries us both off balance and we hit the floor, hard.

His gun clatters under the couch. He gets the wind knocked out of him, and starts gasping for air.

He'll get no help from me. I press my good >>286755 forearm across his throat, and put most of my considerable weight into it.

I get right in his face, my stinking breath fogging his glasses. I take this moment to >>286767 say a few choice words about his mother.

The sirens are right outside now. Heavy boots tromp up the stairs. If I have anything else to say to him - or to ask him - now is the time.

Ask him who he is, and who sent him. Did he kill the guy on your couch?

TK 2011/03/07(Mon)02:59 No. 286777 ID: 543aa6
File 129949556373.png - (19.99KB , 875x475 , 34.png )

>>286776

1. He coughs up blood, then spits it in my face.

2. "Go... hhhhhkkkk... fuck yourself."

3. "I never... saw him before tonight."

"I know you're gonna kill me, so just fucking do it."

Now why would I do that? I'm sure the police would like to talk to both of us about the dead guy. Wouldn't look good if I'm the only one left alive.

Something like: "If I wanted you dead, I would have been firing too. Someone's setting me up and I want to know why an armed man is coming into my office and throwing out lead like it's candy. If I wanted you dead, I'd have put a bullet in your throat."

If the cops are close enough that you'll only have enough time to get that far, then grab his gun and make a quick escape, like out the window/fire escape. If you have time for more questions, just demand to know what he's doing here. His reaction suggests he may not know the dead man, but he's obviously here for a reason, and ready to shoot.

Questions if you have time, but if you don't, just set the record as straight as you can and book it.

TK 2011/03/07(Mon)14:32 No. 286838 ID: 543aa6
File 129953713943.png - (12.02KB , 875x475 , 35.png )

" >>286778 Now why would I do that? >>286816 If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Let's set the record straight. I know I'm being set up - I just want to know who's measuring me for the frame."

He stares.

The cops will be here in seconds. I can stick around and give myself up, or I can take the gun and go out the window.

It's been fun!
Go out the window if there's a fire escape or the fall's not too far. Third floor or higher, you don't have much chance of getting away after a window-dive.
Also be sure to knock down some blinds while you go out the window.

In favor of staying. If we tried running, it'd be with the cops on our heals, with a bullethole in our shoulder, with no leads (Though I suppose we could go to Rose). Besides, running isn't sure to let us not get caught, and would make us look guilty. Still, if you really feel that staying will just screw you over, as it very well might if the cops are incompetent and/or easily bribed, make a break for it.

>>286850
Pose dramatically in the window frame for a brief moment before you leave. Your silhouette should be quite striking when backlit by moonlight and flashing police lights.

>>286838
Key questions: What do you remember? Do you have an alibi for killing this dude? Is it possible that you DID kill him? Was it done here? How corrupt are the police? Those are the sort of questions you need to answer before you can afford to get arrested

Hmm. We don't know what other evidence is stacked against us. Better play it safe and run. Make sure the asshole can't easily grab his gun to shoot us in the back, and let's jet.

TK 2011/03/10(Thu)21:58 No. 287598 ID: 543aa6
File 129982312579.png - (27.57KB , 875x475 , 36.png )

>>286858

The cops are about as corrupt here as they are anywhere else. As for my memory, it's gotten a fair cheap-whiskey scrub, but I think I'd remember murdering someone. I can't tell for sure if Van Buren was killed here, or what time it happened... but most likely, I was face down on the bar at the time. That means I've at least got a bartender who can vouch for my whereabouts.

I'm suddenly glad I tipped. Bartenders always remember the good tippers.

>>286850
>>286855
>>286854
>>287207

The gunman - whoever he is - doesn't look like he's in any shape to raise a hand against me, but just the same I keep an eye on him as I slip out the window and down the fire escape, pausing only to pose dramatically before my exit.

TK 2011/03/11(Fri)00:53 No. 287622 ID: 543aa6
File 129983362552.png - (62.70KB , 875x475 , 37.png )

I clamber down the slick, rusty metal of the fire escape. I've used it to make quick getaways before - loan sharks and jealous husbands, mostly - but never quite like this.

Once I reach street level, I jump off the ladder and hit the sidewalk. Luckily for me, the patrol cars seem to have parked on the other side of the building. I can see their lights spinning lazily from around the corner.

Rose's fancy car is nearby, engine idling. As I hurriedly climb into the passenger's seat, the driver nods at the police lights and asks wryly, "I don't suppose you have anything to do with all this commotion?"

Out of breath, soaking wet, my shoulder burning, I tell him to drive.

Well... where do we go now? Back to the dame?

>>287622
Does he have a phone in the car? You need to update Rose on the bad news. Also, ask him if he was Mr. Van Buren's regular driver and what he was doing the day before he died.

TK 2011/03/11(Fri)02:57 No. 287629 ID: 543aa6
File 129984104139.png - (65.53KB , 875x475 , 38.png )

As we drive down darkened streets, I check my injury. Lucky me. It looks like the slug went clean through and didn't hit anything too important. For all the sound and fury of the kid's monster handgun, it was not a significant bullet. Hurts like a mother, but the rain has washed off most of the blood, and what's left barely shows against my black coat. I doubt the driver even realizes I've been shot.

The car radio crackles a tune, tinny but still recognizable:

"Today is grey skies, tomorrow is tears..."

An old favorite of mine.

As the car pulls up the winding driveway to the Van Buren estate, the music abruptly switches to a police bulletin: murder in the big city. One suspect shot dead by police at the scene as he tried to shoot his way out. Another still at large. They give the second suspect's description: mine. Armed and extremely dangerous. Anyone with any information as to the fugitive's whereabouts should immediately contact police.

The driver turns off the radio and parks the car in front of the house.

"Don't worry, mister, your secret's safe with me... but I sure wouldn't want to be in your shoes right now."

Well, that makes two of us.

TK 2011/03/11(Fri)06:18 No. 287640 ID: 543aa6
File 129985309469.png - (16.59KB , 875x475 , 39.png )

The rain is finally starting to let up as I step into the house. Almost thought it never would.

I climb the stairs, then hesitate outside her door. So much has changed, but... she still has the same effect on me. My hands are shaking as I reach for the door knob.

I step inside. When she sees me, right away she can tell something's wrong. She opens her mouth to speak, but can't quite bring herself to ask me what's happened. Maybe she's afraid of what the answer will be.

What should I tell her?

>>287640
The truth. You haven't done anything illegal yet, so you should be fine telling her everything. In the future, though, I'd hesitate to tell her anything incriminating about yourself.

Be gentle when you deliver the news about her hubby. It's going to be quite a shock.

Tell her something big is going on. Bigger than you. Emphasize that you have been set up, that this is borderline conspiracy, and that man who was shot dead by the cops on the news came into your office and tried to kill you first.


Mr. Van Buren was dead when you got there and you have an alibi for the whole night. But more and more the odds are being stacked against you.

Right now you need to know, more than anything, if she believes you. Because if you can't make her believe you, you're in even bigger shit than before.

>>287640

Demand answers. Dead bodies and people shooting at you are not good things.

>>287640
Good news, bad news, worse news.

Good news, he's in one piece, bad news, that piece is a cooling stiff I found propped up on a couch. Worse news, my couch, and some punk making a slow gettaway left me a fair sized hole for my own shoulder.

TK 2011/03/17(Thu)17:42 No. 289024 ID: 543aa6
File 130040893198.png - (14.13KB , 875x475 , 40.png )

>>287652

"Rose-" I have to stop myself. Stop myself because I can feel myself wanting to move towards her, wanting to comfort her. Wanting to heal the wounds, hers and mine.

It's been a hell of a night, but... I reckon I'm a bit too close to this one. I have to try to keep this professional. I have to try. I clear my throat.

"Mrs. Van Buren..."

She interrupts me. Says my name. "Please," she says, "don't call me that."

"I'm sorry, but your husband is dead."

She looks like she's been struck. Her eyes widen. She always had the most beautiful eyes.

"But - he can't... it's not... he..." she stammers, and sways on her feet. She looks at me.

And then she starts to cry.

>>289024
Stand there quietly, open body language. Get your hands out of your pockets. Listen to her. Be available to comfort her, but don't foist yourself upon her.

>>289046
Yeah... After the next bit of news hugging her would be extra super creepy.

Apologize, be gentle if possible. But time is not on our side; remember that there's more at work here tonight and we can't waste too much time. Tell her the rest.

>>289024
Be prepared to catch her should she decide to faint.

TK 2011/03/25(Fri)19:25 No. 290843 ID: 543aa6
File 130110634175.png - (14.72KB , 875x475 , 41.png )

>>289046
I take my hands out of my pockets.

>>289230
I take a step closer, but I don't think she's going to faint.

>>289157
"There's more. It's not going to be easy for you to hear. They think I killed him."

She looks me in the eye. Hesitates. "Did you?"

"No."

>>290843
More details. It was in your room, someone happened along at the perfect time to 'discover you' and they were an excellent shot, presumably they would kill you in 'self defense'. The timing doesn't work out though, at the time when you would have been killing him you were blind drunk.

You don't have to mention the bartender as your witness yet, but it should be important to stress the frame-up, and even more importantly, make sure she believes you. Because if she thinks you're the one she could call the cops the second you turn around. You need to be sure.

>>290843
It may also be a good idea to ask for help about that gunshot wound. Might be able to open up some dialogue there while she's treating your wound, or at least get to sit down for a moment, as you are likely going to be running again soon enough, there's no way someone won't suspect where you are now.

TK 2011/03/25(Fri)22:04 No. 290875 ID: 543aa6
File 130111587266.png - (12.25KB , 875x475 , 42.png )

>>290851

She sees the blood.

"You're shot!"

"Yeah." Funny thing is, I'd almost forgotten about it. For all the pain, it seems like the least of my worries right now. "I guess I am."

She reaches for me. She touches my shoulder, gently. She looks into my eyes.

"Does it hurt?"

I'll manage. What about you?

>>290875

Ask if she has a bottle of booze on hand. Tough guys usually down a couple shots to numb the pain of flesh wounds.

TK 2011/03/29(Tue)19:40 No. 291742 ID: 543aa6
File 130145285447.png - (12.42KB , 875x475 , 43.png )

>>290884

"I'll manage," I say, "What about you?"

"I'll be okay." She leans in,

"I'll be okay..."

and then she kisses me.

>>291742
Um. Be in shock for a little bit.

Stammer out an awkward "thanks."

KISS HER BACK DAMMIT

>>291782
BEING THE REBOUND MY HUSBAND IS DEEEEAD FUCK IS NOT CONDUCTIVE TO A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP. ALSO IT LOOKS GUILTY AS HELL. ALSO WE MUST ENTERTAIN THE POSSIBILITY THAT SHE IS THE ONE SETTING US UP, AS UNPALATABLE AS IT IS.

Femme fatale alert. Probably. Maybe. So confused.

Fuck, well played, TK, giving them a history like that. Now I don't know what to think!

TK 2011/03/31(Thu)18:31 No. 292341 ID: 543aa6
File 130162149627.png - (13.75KB , 875x475 , 44.png )

and then she kills me.

WHAT.

what

Eh, I've been on worse first dates.

welp

>>292341
Told you she was the one masterminding it all man.

Well, we fucked up. Oh well. Nice try, guys.

TK 2011/04/02(Sat)14:44 No. 293246 ID: 543aa6
File 130178067668.png - (10.90KB , 875x475 , 45.png )

I fall to my knees. I feel cold. I'm bleeding a lot. There's blood on my hands, on the floor... but not a drop touches her.

The bullet's gone right through my heart. How utterly proper.

>>291778
I go into shock.

She doesn't gloat. She doesn't laugh. She doesn't tell me her master plan. Why she set me up.

I'll never know if she killed her husband, or had him killed.

The kid with the gun - a hired killer? Or just another sucker? I wonder what she promised him.

Maybe she came to me because she needed a patsy with a motive. Maybe she's covering her tracks.

Or maybe she just wanted me dead.

rage mode, take her down with you. get up and snap her neck before dying.

>>293279
All due respect but the guy's shot in the goddamn heart and he's in shock.

Reach out and grab at her dress. Smear some blood on it as a little something for her to remember you by, at least.

Try to croak out a "why?"

TK 2011/04/02(Sat)16:22 No. 293296 ID: 543aa6
File 130178657336.png - (9.50KB , 875x475 , 46.png )

I know I'm dying. It's a hell of a feeling.

It's quiet. She doesn't say anything.

>>293283
I try to speak, but my mouth is full of blood.

>>293281
>>293279
I reach out, but I can't touch her. I wonder if I ever could.

I look up at her. I look her in the eyes. She always had the most beautiful eyes. But now there's nothing behind them. I wonder if there ever was.

She puts the gun to my head. The barrel's still hot, enough to sear flesh. I try to savor the pain, the smell of my own burning skin, while I can. But she won't do it. Doesn't pull the trigger. Can't finish me off.



It doesn't matter.

The rain has stopped.

void bowels, let her smell your rage snake.

>>293296
Time to die...

TK 2011/04/02(Sat)16:34 No. 293301 ID: 543aa6
File 130178725752.png - (9.88KB , 875x475 , 47.png )

>>I always thought

The sensation of dying is impossible to explain. Nobody who has experienced it is in any state to describe it.

>>I would fade to black.

>>293298
I die.

>>I never expected

It happens to everyone. Everybody dies.

>>it would be so

...cold?

>>293301
...Candy filled, because you've actually been a pinata?

>>293301
Bright?

TK 2011/04/02(Sat)17:02 No. 293313 ID: 543aa6
File 130178897854.png - (7.01KB , 875x475 , 48.png )

>>blue.

But not everybody wakes up again.



I don't know where I am or how I got here.

I don't even know who I am.

And I can't see a damn thing

except the sky.

wait what? how do you get up after getting hit in the heart?

Get on your feet. Look around.

TK 2011/04/02(Sat)17:32 No. 293331 ID: 543aa6
File 130179072225.png - (11.96KB , 875x475 , 49.png )

"I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up."

>>293314
That's a very good question.

>>293315
I feel too weak to stand. I look around.

I'm in a hut of sticks and straw, with a dirt floor. There's a bed (upon which I currently repose), a table covered with assorted beakers and flasks half-full with various brightly colored liquids (and a few crude medical implements), a door to the outside, and a single window

through which I can see that it's a beautiful day.

"You were in pretty bad shape."

Besides myself, the only inhabitant of the hut is a doctor, of sorts.

My doctor has a manner which is stern but not unkind. He has a brow creased with middle-age and with worry. He dresses in subdued, earthy tones. He moves with brisk but deliberate energy. He studies me with curiosity and mild concern.

"You're... not from around here, are you?"

He is the best kind of doctor a man in my present state could hope for. He is attentive, experienced, levelheaded, and professional.

That depends upon where 'here' is. Ask him where you are.

awww man, did you teleport?

TK 2011/04/02(Sat)17:52 No. 293340 ID: 543aa6
File 130179194451.png - (19.74KB , 875x475 , 50.png )

He is also decidedly not human.

>>293340
Wait... whuh?

TK 2011/04/02(Sat)17:59 No. 293343 ID: 543aa6
File 130179236529.png - (19.56KB , 875x475 , 51.png )

Where the hell am I?

>>293343
Certainly not Kansas anymore Toto...

How did...

Where...

What the hell is going on?!

yep, you teleportaled into another dimension. good job.

TK 2011/04/02(Sat)18:06 No. 293348 ID: 543aa6
File 130179280812.png - (16.19KB , 875x475 , 52.png )

end chapter 1.

>>293347

By getting shot in the heart?

I feel like I'm in an indie movie...