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Realistic or Modern Questquest

Elision of Ecritures Elision of Ecritures

W0Prologue - Startquest.png

You are James Friedman, and it is your day off.

Your K-Mart co-worker, Laura, has invited you to a underground musical show of some sort. Laura has connections to the underground society of the city, she's cool like that.

However, before you can leave your apartment, you have to have to equip your Armor (pick an shirt.)​
 
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You look around your room/kitchen/apartment, searching for an appropriate piece of clothing that will fit the occasion. You figure most of your shirts are pretty similar. A variety of solid color tees, jeans, ripped or not, vans and maybe a band t shirt here and there. You first hold up a t shirt bearing a Nirvana band logo on the front a few dates on the back from a tour. It holds sentimental value to you, but you'd rather not wear such striking attire when you go in attendance. The yellows mixed with the black even feel a bit too apparent.

You reach over to grab the other band shirt you have, but you stop yourself. You sigh, grabbing the Nirvana shirt and smiling as you look in front of your mirror. You turn around, grabbing your keys, phone and wallet before you close the door behind you and turn the key to lock it. You brush your jeans softly, starting to walk down the hall. ​
 
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You walk down the hall with your shirt of +1 Will.

You descend two floors down the staircase to the Lobby, and you see John V. -Your neighbor across the hall- come inside and check his mail.

You've talked a few times, but you don't really know anything about him, besides the fact that he works pretty far away.​
 
You look up to see John V. He's a pretty cool guy. You don't know just how long he's been staying at this apartment complex, but you know at the very least he moved in before you. You've barely had much of a paragraph of dialogue with him. He just seems...a bit disinterested in you, so you decided it's best to stay away. Or at least normally. Wearing your Nirvana shirt on, you stand up a little bit, and raise a hand. You even manage to muster up an awkward little smile.
​
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As he sees you walking, he looks at you, and gives a small downward half-nod. The Cool Man's wave. He takes his mail and heads upstairs.

You see a small blip of light in the center of the room, another resident appears before running up the staircase.
You wish you could afford Fast Travel.​
 
You give a small, rewarding smile to yourself after you watch him walk away. Nice. At this rate, who knows? You might even end up having a full length conversation with somebody by the end of the night. But you choose to reign in your optimism for a bit in order to better afford yourself less of a let down in case the night goes sour. You put your hands in your pockets as you walk out the door, the thought of fast travel looming on you. It's unfortunate, but you just can't afford it on your annual salary. The number of Credits it takes to travel the Sub-Space continuum isn't something that just falls into the lap of a single part time cashier.

You don't mind though. It's not like you have any pressing business on on Planet X or whatever. You're fine with taking the A Train for now.
​
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LOADING...​

After an amount of time, you reach your destination, some seedy looking warehouse with music playing inside.
Why are underground events always held in warehouses anyway?

Outside is Laura, talking to some people you have never seen before. Beside her is a poster for the event.
​
 
You look out to the crowd and steadily make your way over to Laura. You keep your hands tucked into the pockets of your jeans and look out to the indiscriminate clumps of people congregating outside the warehouse to take a break from the hot, seedy and loud atmosphere of the warehouse to take a smoke or cool off in the early fall air. You approach her, almost with a sense of caution as not to interject into her current conversation.

You wave a solemn hello as you pass. Walking towards her yet only past her as you ready yourself to just enter the warehouse in case she's too busy to pry her way out of the cluster she's in now. She looks a little bit busy anyway, the coolest of people usually are.
​
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She waves back to you, glad you could make it.​

Inside you see a crowd of people 5 times larger than the one outside, all having a great time listening to...​
You have never seen this performer. in your entire life.​

She is a teenage girl, no older than 18, wearing all black ,a hoodie with a skull design, and a baseball cap.
She seems to be rapping about death and zombies and other various things.

Beside her is a tall guy with long feathered hair under a striped beanie, standing behind a small desk performing the non-lyrical half of the music.

They aren't half bad.​
 
You nod along to the beat of the music as you first begin to take in the magnitude of the crowd and the exact atmosphere it gives off. You don't even seem to recall what the name of this band is. Shit, you should've looked at the poster outside, but having just entered you feel way too obligated to stay inside for now and not satisfy your curiosity. You look to see a milling crowd, most looking up at the stage with a sense of more quieted enjoyment, bouncing along to the beat, having various conversations which fill the room with a large amount of white noise. The speakers blast the music loudly into everyone's ears so you can only communicate by shouting.

Then, a sense of dread fills you as you are suddenly aware of your predicament. You have absolutely no one to talk to and you are at a sociable event where you can only kind of stand around in jaded enthusiasm if you are to blend with the crowd. This is the nightmare scenario. You walk over to the wall and immediately start leaning on it, fumbling for your phone as you try and quietly take in more of the room and flip through your social media anxiously.
​
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The music continues to play uproariously.​

As you reach the wall, you see another poster advertising the event.
Why would you ever post this inside of the event? They need better PR.​
 
You look over to see the poster. Heh, you guess it's your lucky day. You wonder what this band is called anyway. You wouldn't be surprised by most names, all things considered, since New York has always been a very strange place filled with pseudo-science, wicca, paranatural activity and many other weird things taht have shaped the culture of the city as a whole to be extremely diverse, artistic and weird by many people's standards. You've become jaded to it however.
​
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Oh, you get it now. Nice. You're not all taht into rap, so you can't really judge all that much, but you think her music is pretty fine. But concerning the guy with the feathered hair and the beanie, you wonder what 'M' could stand for. Maybe the two of them are just collaborating for the night since it doesn't seem like their aesthetics thematically mesh all taht coherently. Who can say. Maybe Laura even knows them? Considering she knows a lot of people on the underground scene who frequent warehouses and listen to weird new wave stuff, you wouldn't be surprised.

You wonder if you should go and get a drink....maybe not. You don't really drink, and even though you, like most people who live in the city don't really drive, you still think it's kind of dangerous. Maybe you should take a photo? Yeah. That's a good idea. You hold up your camera phone and take a quick snapshot of you face. It's dark, you can barely make out your features and you look like shit. Yeah....that's....that's fair.

You pocket your phone and figure you can just chill out in the middle rows of people.
​
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Her words begin to pick up pace, and his music syncs perfectly with the speed.

Someone in front of you a few rows has begun walking towards the back, brushing past you. They don't look too hot.

Suddenly, a horrid retching sound comes from the individual, but no-one except you seems to notice.
They are hunched over, and black ooze begins flowing from the inside of their hood, you can see even though they are facing away from you.

From the black pool on the ground a small mass of charcoal colored slime begins moving towards the crowd.​
 
You look over to see the individual, seeing that no one else is helping them or even looking down to see that they're in pain. You squint, looking from side to side as you look at the pool of slime. Oh shit, it must be some kind of ghost or something. Or, like a demon? Or maybe it's some weird alien disease, or a curse, eldritch majjyks, bio-engineered chemical warfare...the list really goes on. You turn to the people next to you and figure you are the only one who can see it, but you are reluctant to step forward and let yourself come into contact with the goo.

You take out your phone. Maybe you could call an exorcist or something? You look up a number before your eyes dart forward, making sure to keep away from the slime as you begin to shout at the people in front of you to take cover.
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As the words for cover exit your mouth, the black slime launches itself into the air, far above the crowd on onto the back wall of the stage. The music stops.

The slime affixes itself to the wall by spreading outwards. A row of sharp, inhuman teeth form inside, and a mouth opens on the oozing surface. The Person from before climbs onto the stage, Kid Deth and M. already in the crowd below. The figure has no face, as a black substance akin to rubber has covered their entire head. They move as if speaking, but their words come from the booming voice of the mouthed slime.

"Humans." The voice was as loud as an explosion, as painful as scraping metal, and yet as smooth as velvet. "I am an Emissary of the Void, and I have now appeared in your world in numerous places, through a variety of hosts." The rubbery paste on their host stretches out to form what appears to be a five pointed star, and a singular Eye appears in the center. "I have come to relay a message: Your days are numbered, we are the monsters that lie outside your world, and we are coming for you. By your own design you created the means for our entrance: you have pierced reality, molded it to your own whims, this will be your downfall." The wall-ooze begins to grow rapidly. "You are too dangerous to continue your own existence."

Suddenly, the ooze explodes inside, enveloping many and throwing the rest (including you) through the walls and landing them outside. The Warehouse and the ooze just suddenly disappear, vanishing out of existence, leaving a hole in everything where they were.

What the fuck.
 
What the fuck.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck just happened? You just witnessed a full on declaration of war by the shadow realm or whatever the hell on the human race, standard enough you guess, take place in some random warehouse in the middle of downtown New York. What the fuck? You look up, wondering if everyone made it out or if it was just you and a few other stragglers who got blasted through the walls. You figure the worst happened to Kid Deth and M. Wait, Laura. Where the fuck is Laura?

You stand up, your phone just having had loaded a screen filled with online websites for exorcists taht now sits, unaware and bereft of the help it seemed to pose beforehand. Your hands shakily put it away as you slowly, shakily stand up. Fuck. Fuck, what was the procedure when dealing with these things? Monster attacks, you go inside the nearest bunker. Possessions, you call an Exorcist or whomever and also go to the nearest bunker. But this happened....so fast. Are those people dead? Oh fuck.
​
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In the crowd, now reduced to less than a third the original size, you see Kid Deth, but you do not see either M. or Laura. You hear police sirens going past the warehouse, seems like you weren't the only place that was hit with horrorgoo.​

From the pit where the warehouse was, a small dog-like creature pops out, formed from this strange substance.

They just sort of... stare at you.​
 
You at first don't even notice the dog. You are incapable of standing up as you suddenly have lost all the feeling in your legs. You are covering your face with you hands and shaking uncontrollably. You grip your forehead. You are trying desperately not to freak out anymore than you already have. You can't see Laura, you can't find her. Oh god. Oh god she's probably dead....

You then look up to see the dog. And your eyes widen in fear. You shout in exasperation, suddenly capable o of feeling your legs again as your adrenaline fuels a quick Sprint forward. You race away from the pit in terror.
​
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You wake up with the image of the voided out warehouse still fresh in your mind as your eyes snap open. Fearful and freshly traumatized, you curl up in the sheets. You look down, seeing that you are still full clothed. You feel around your body, you don't feel off. Just scared and shaky. Good, at least the thing you thought may have happened didn't happen.

This is why you don't fucking drink. There's no way that was a dream. But you still curl up, looking over to see a lamp lit up on the nightstand next to your bed. This isn't your house....what was with that fucking dog.
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You hear a soft scrawling noise outside the room, as if someone was shuffling through paper's and writing things down, and you smell the scent of cooking chicken.

Where the hell are you?​
 
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