[LP CYOA] Test-Run

[wjw]

We are trapped in this world now, there's no need to think about the old world, this one is currently controlled and run by an unknown entity.

So I suggest we vote M.

 

[Azira]

Of course it's God that runs the world. Who could question that?

 

[wjw]

God created the world, he also created humans so they could 'tend', run the world.

 

[Tigranes]

"Could it be that the payment is the finger?"

Duh.

[Caitlyn]

Oh, boy. The froo-froo fundie over here is going to have another orgasm about the Divine Phallus. How can I persuade - wait, I know! One thing that runs the world, that is common to both my theories of feminist antipatriarchal herstory and her crackpot fantasies! That thing is belief! And so, those who really run the world, those who can change the world are -

M. The BELIEVERS.

(Surely, treave, if you listed Dinosaurs as a valid answer...)

God damn, I meant N.

 

[m4davis]

Small question for the Dome people do they have to actually agree with what they say or just say it.
Theres a time for pride now is not it A

 

[treave]

Small question for the Dome people do they have to actually agree with what they say or just say it.

Just saying it will do.

 

[Grimgravy]

Scripture is clear. Satan rules the world. But the rude little chippy probably wont bent to biblical reason. Perhaps the song IS a clue.

M: Satan > A

 

[Nevill]

Tally

Benton - A
Baltika9 - A
Kipeci - A
m4davis - A
Lambchop19 - C

Caitlyn
Esquilax - ?
Absinthe - ?
Tigranes - N: Believers
Azira - B: God?

Edgar
a bear named spigot - C: First Aid and Hunting knife
Kz3r0 - A
ScubaV - B: Hunting knife
Nevill - B: Machete or Hunting knife
Rex Feral - ?

Francesca
Grimgravy N: Satan > A: Girls
wjw M: Don't know
TOME -?

Some very sad inaction on part of Edgar and Caitlyn players. Oi, fellow hobos, where have you gone off to?

Also, some funny business with Fran&Cait desicion making, considering that the only thing that they need to survive is to say 'I agree with whatever decision you make as long as you do make one'. Cait does seem like a person who lacks any real convictions, so why does she even feel a need to mull this over? Just nod to whatever the fanatic says.

Unless she is too a fanatic of l1brulism to such a degree that she is ready to die for it.

 

[ScubaV]

Edgar:

It says the rings are meant to be worn, so I don't think it will chop our finger off. I suspect the rings are either simply to provide continuous pain and maybe a source of infection or possibly inject some sort of substance. It sounds like a classic top secret government experiment. They always do weird shit to the common GI just to see what happens. Remember ol' Joe? One day he was totally fine and the next he snapped. They took him to the psych hospital and we never saw him again. Ah, fuck. Gotta keep quiet. Hmmm. Yes, the knife. A man can do a lot of things with a simple knife. A lot of things.

B XIII (pinky finger on right hand)

 

[Nevill]

It says the rings are meant to be worn, so I don't think it will chop our finger off.

The rings are meant to be worn. There are spikes to prevent them from coming off the finger. The rings are also supposed to be taken by the machine as payment.

You do the math.

I will add the hunting knife to the list of things I want to buy. It is not too far removed from a machete, and I am not picky.

Edit: although it does not mention it will be taking it, only that you pay for the items with the rings. The method is not specified.

 

[a bear named spigot]

C IX XIII

i don't want to go walking around with a big ass machete, people might get the wrong (right) idea. a knife that can be surreptitiously kept under our clothes (can't think about the knife) and used as necessary would be ideal.

also i don't want to die from an infection after chopping off my pinky so i'll take the first aid kit

 

[wjw]

Yeah Girls... Get some voting startin'

 

[treave]

The current final status is:

Benton - Swim with the ducky.

Edgar - Pay for one item, get the hunting knife.

Caitlyn & Francesca - Undecided.

Rolling for: who runs faster.

 

[Nevill]

Benton - Swim with the ducky.

I am proud to see Aaron's Fedora slowly taking hold of our gangsta's psyche. First comes denial, then rationalization, then acceptance.

 

[TOME]

[Francesca]

Oh my God, I'm going to hell! Satan is gaining foothold in my thoughs and God is slipping further away. Our Father, Who art in heaven. Hallowed be Thy Name; Thy kingdom come, Thy will... Why did I leave my nutritious organic lentil fiber pellets home?!... be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day...

 

[treave]

The Price Has Been Paid

“Fuck, alright, I’ll do it. I’ll do it. Yeah. Not gonna let that piece of plastic get a nigga down, I ain’t too proud to do it if I hafta.” Psyching himself up, Benton grabs the inflatable swim ring shaped like an extremely ugly duck. He squeezes himself into it – it is an uncomfortable fit, and try as he might, he is unable to pull it up around his waist. The hips are as far as it goes, and as a result, Benton looks like he is sporting a fat duck head around his crotch. “Alright. Let’s do this shit! A nigga finna swim!”

With a yell, Benton runs into the water and makes a big splash. His arms and legs flail about wildly and somehow, he manages to stay afloat. “Fuck! Fuck! I’m swimming! I’m swimming, bitches!” he laughs nervously. Thrashing through the brackish pool, Benton reaches the corpse. He is forced to cling to its rubbery, bloated skin to maintain his balance in the water. Parts of the flesh have turned a deep jet-black and seem to be disintegrating into the pool. The cloudy, yellowing eyes are bulging halfway out of their sockets. There is a tangible stench that assails his nostrils. Benton resists the urge to gag: he’s sniffed some gross stuff growing up, but this was a whole new level of grossness.

The key is in her mouth. Her slimy, cold, wet mouth. “Sheeeeeit. Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit.” Muttering the word like a mantra, Benton reaches in. His fingers push her swollen tongue aside, touching her icy teeth. The key slips further in, lodging at the back of her throat. “Oh fuck.”

Something cold and wispy brushes past Benton’s kicking ankles.

Did he imagine it? He is not staying around to find out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” In a hurry, he manages to get his fingers around the bow of the key. “Yes!” Holding up the key triumphantly, Benton pushes away from the dead woman and flees for the side of the pool. He clambers up, water streaming off of his body, and dances a little jig in victory. “Yeah! Yeah! Who’s drowning now, motherfucker?”

You’ll believe even a nigger can swim…

“Yeah, you dig? Even a nigga like me can swim… yeah?” Benton pauses, uncertain. That thought had not felt like his own, yet…

CONGRATULATIONS ON OBTAINING THE KEY!

FOR YOUR EFFORTS, I NOW DUB THEE SIR QUACK-QUACK OF THE ORDER OF THE DUCK RING.

YOU MAY NOW OBTAIN YOUR PRIZE, QUACK-QUACK.

“That ain’t my name, nigga!” shouts Quack-Quack at the screen furiously, as Sergei Prokofiev’s Peter and the Wolf Op. 67: III – The Duck – begins to play. But the monitor has gone dark. Still stewing, Quack-Quack stomps off to the lockers. He tries the key on them, one by one, until he finds the right lock. The door of the metal locker creaks open slowly on squeaky hinges. Inside, he finds two things.

A battered fedora, and a key-card.

There is a note taped to the back of the locker. It reads:

This card will open the third door from the left in the Administration office. From there, you will be able to make your way outside.

“Is this shit real?” frowns Quack-Quack. “Hope it’s legit, man.” He picks up the card, inadvertently brushing against the back of the locker as he does so. It rattles. With a squeak, the panel leans slightly ajar, revealing an empty space behind the locker; a narrow passage of some sort. It is about big enough for a single person to squeeze through…

---

Quack-Quack’s Choice:

A. Exit the swimming pool and head for the Administration office.

B. Investigate the secret passage hidden behind the locker.

---

A. Take the fedora.

B. Don’t take the fedora.

***

One item.

One knife.

That is all he needs.

Edgar places the ring on his pinky. The inward-pointing spikes scratch his skin but do not draw blood – they are merely mildly uncomfortable. And he knows uncomfortable. Taking a deep breath, he inserts his finger into the hole. Nothing happens. He waits for a second. And then two. And on the third second, the machine whirs to life. There is a flash of red light from the hole.

Edgar lets out a stifled scream as pain pierces his finger. He can feel the spikes gouging in, boring into his flesh, digging until they touch bone. Then, the ring is pulled. It goes swiftly, drawn by a powerful mechanical force, vanishing into the depths of the machine as payment. Payment. That is what it meant. Edgar withdraws his trembling hand, beads of sweat rolling off his dirty brow. This is… He stares at his finger, amazed. Blood is spurting out of the wound profusely, though he knows it would clot soon enough. He had thought that the machine would have cut it off altogether, but what it had merely done was to strip the ring, and all the flesh of his pinky together with it. Exposed bone and ligaments are all that is left behind. That, and the pain coursing up his arm.

THE PRICE HAS BEEN PAID. YOU MAY NOW SELECT YOUR ITEM OF CHOICE!

Edgar reaches towards the vending machine with his left hand and taps what he wants. A hunting knife. The machine makes some clunking noises, and some more whirring, and after a while, spits out his prize. He takes the knife, hefting it in his good hand. It is a well-balanced knife. Edgar stares at his reflection in the polished surface of the blade. Now… He looks at his finger again.

---

Edgar’s Choice:

A. Sacrifice another finger for a first-aid kit so that he can bandage the wounds properly.

B. Bite and break off the exposed bone with his teeth, and wrap the wound with cloth cut from his rags.

---

A. Head for the ‘Administration’.

B. Head for the ‘Swimming Pool’.

***

Caitlyn and Francesca stare at each other. They had been unable to come to an agreement on what answer to give. Who runs the world? They could not even each make up their own mind enough to admit that they did not know the answer. So that is all they can do: to stare at each other.

The bushes shake and rustle. Something steps out from the bushes. As one, they turn to look at the newcomer. It is a large teddy bear, one the size of a small child. It wobbles uncertainly with each step, toddling towards them.

“Oh, how cute!” coos Caitlyn.

Francesca, on the other hand, is frowning with suspicion. “Is it… a puppet?” She has seen this before. Toys possessed by the devil.

“All bears are toys!” says the teddy bear joyfully without opening its mouth.

“Awh!” goes Caitlyn.

There is more rustling, and more stuffed toys begin to step out of the forest. Bears, cats, dogs, and even the odd duck. “All bears are toys! All bears are toys!” they chant as one, hopping up and down.

“Oh, you’re so silly. Not all of you are bears!” laughs Caitlyn.

AN ANSWER AS GOOD AS ANY.

THE DOOR SHALL OPEN.

The thick door slides open. “Hey! It’s opening!” points Caitlyn. “They helped us open it! These little things are so nice!”

“All bears… are toys!” The high-pitched, childlike voice of the bear turns into a hissing growl. Its sewn mouth tears open to reveal a gaping maw full of sharp, needle-like teeth.

“I knew it! Oh, Jesus!” cries out Francesca. These toys are clearly of the devil, with their non-ecologically friendly construction in some Chinese sweatshop halfway across the world.

As all the other toys open their mouths to the chant of “All bears are toys! All bears are toys!” Caitlyn drops her previous liking for the stuffed toys quickly and begins sprinting for the door. Francesca, a split-second slower to react, follows on her heels. And behind them, the animals begin the hunt.

Caitlyn is first to the door, being younger and in better shape. She darts in, turns around, and looks at Francesca. She sees the look of horror on Francesca’s face as the door begins to close. “Quickly!” she shouts.

The bear pounces. It sinks its sharp teeth into Francesca’s calf. She stumbles the last few steps, managing to wedge her elbow into the door. The door’s progress is halted – temporarily – but Francesca is being gradually pulled back by the rabid bear. The other animals are closing in on the dome, chanting “All bears are toys!”

“Help… help me!” cries Francesca, screaming in pain as the bear digs into her leg.

---

Caitlyn’s Choice:

A. Take the emergency fire-axe nearby, wedge it against the door, and pull Francesca through at the risk of letting the other animals in.

B. Attempt to pull Francesca through without wedging the door open. She might not make it through in time before the door shuts, however.

C. Pry off Francesca’s arm, pushing her away. Getting close might let her grab you, however, putting the both of you in danger.

D. Take the axe and cut off Francesca’s arm. It has to be done. You can’t endanger your life to rescue her.

---

Francesca's Choice:

A. Pray for help.

B. Pray for help harder.

 

[Kz3r0]

A. A.

 

[Azira]

Ha Ha. Ha.

We are having fun now.

 

[Nevill]

There is more rustling, and more stuffed toys begin to step out of the forest. Bears, cats, dogs, and even the odd duck.

Oh God! Anything but that! BEWARE OF THE DUCK!!

Edgar's choice:

Something was taken away from him with that finger. He is not sure what, yet, as he clutches the knife in his hand, but something has definitely changed. He is no longer just a prey, but a hunter as well. No more mindless running away. No more passive watching. Everything became clear-cut again, just like during the war.

They have taught him well. Avoid the sunken costs, they said. He saw it with his own eyes - the guys who played the heroes and tried to get the wounded back, cut down by the enemy fire... only for the next guy to attempt it again. Cut down the losses, they said. To lose a second finger so that you could bandage the first one is an irrational waste. A crime, even, considering what that would do to the grip on the only weapon he has. He survived worse without any pansy-ass first aid kits to do his job for him. He can do it again. He has all the tools he needs.

He hacks off the useless piece of bone with the knife, and throws it away. Done and forgotten. There are more important things for him to be concerned with. The game is on. It's either him or them now. And he is going to live through this, no matter the cost.

'Them', though? Who are 'they'? The ones that run the experiment? Or everyone who is not him? He supposes there will be time to decide if he ever sees the others again. For now, he will head to the Administration office. Perhaps there will be some clues as to what is going on here. Maybe some evidence, a track for him to sniff out. And he was very good at tracking.

BA

 

[Baltika9]

BB
"Ayy, fuck you, asshole. I ain't no duck-ass muhfucka!"

 

[Nevill]

You are now, Quack-Quack.

 

[asxetos]

Jumping in on Benton with BB

 

[wjw]

Oh boy, Fransesca shouldnt die before her full potential is unlocked. But first treave has to make her fall deep, so she can resurrect into a higher being, Unlocking all her vegan powers. So pray she shall. Pray very hard.

B.

 

[Nevill]

What is this 'all bears are toys' stuff, BTW? If that's a reference to something, I don't get it.

 

[wjw]

Reminds me of netrunner bears and jackson howard.