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[Iituem]

Went all the way to town, the shop was out of spray.  But there was a Latin Jazz band playing when I got there, so I guess it was all right.  Moments of beauty in the dark.


Ugh.  You know you really should eat better, maybe go to that veggie place your friend keeps talking about, but it's cold and you don't want to walk.  You settle on a plastic-packed cheese ploughman's sandwich instead (Red Leicester, apparently, but corner shop cheese all tastes like Cheddar to you) and a can of pop, then casually buy five scratch cards as if this isn't a problem.  At all.

"Just these," you say, passing them over and counting out your cash.  The woman behind the counter gives you a thin-lipped smile.  You hand over a £5 note, two pound coins and a fifty-pence and three twenty-pence pieces, which is annoying but you don't have a ten pence coin.  She gives you one and fiddles with the coins in the register.  "Have a good night," she says.  You give her a tired smile of your own.

You lean against one of the corner shop refrigerators.  Scratch two now, three when you get back in.  That seems fair.

Pig, Peeled Banana, Tyre, Cheese and Star.  No luck on the first one.  You use the ten pence piece to scratch off the silver on the second card.  Pig again, Balloon, Tyre, a second Pig... Cheese.  Damn.  You consider taking out a third card now -

You hear a dull bang from outside, like a car backfiring, and the crash and tinkle of glass.  Shaken out of your thoughts you step out into the street, which is covered in small glass fragments and shards, as well as ruined pieces of brick, one of which has gone through a parked car's windscreen.  There is a hole in the side of your apartment block, perhaps seven feet in diameter, from which smoke is pouring, and you can see the faint orange glimmer of flames.

That - that was your flat.  Half of one of your couch cushions, torn apart and gently smoking, is caught on the glowing sign of the kebab shop.

a)  Run to your flat!  Try and figure out what's going on.
e)  Call the police!  Maybe the fire brigade as well!  Your flat just blew up!
i)  Panic and hide.  You don't know what's going on, or if that's all that's going to happen.

[VoidSlayer]

I am torn between e and i.

Did we forget to turn off the stove or something?  They are gonna fucking blame us.

i)

[Puppyguard]

i

[hector13]

a all our stuff man! I'm sure we had more scratch cards somewhere!

[Shadowclaw777]

a, we don't need to wuss out when we have our stuff on the line

[Iituem]

I flipped a coin.  The tail coils, around and around, the embrace of return.


What the fuck?  What the fuck?!  You retreat back into the corner shop, feeling your heart pound in your chest.  You can barely keep your breath together, you're panicking so heavily.  You hide behind one of the tall aisles, watching as the counter woman goes out to see what has happened.  You feel terror seize your legs and stumble into the back room, trying to control the panic attack.  It's a dinky little chamber filled with boxes of stock and a desk and chair, with the back entrance opposite.  You shut the door behind you and lean against the wall, sinking down and hugging your knees to your chest.

Everything is crowding in on you.  There's no room to breathe, but you can't bear the idea of going outside.  All you can hear is the pounding in your head, over and over and over and over and over and over

After a few minutes, you hear sirens, quiet and then louder.  The sound of people moving out front.  Boots on broken glass.

The back door handle begins to turn.

.) Remain huddled.  It hurts too much to move.
?) Investigate the back door.
!) Run.  Run back out the front and maybe you'll find succour there.

[StrawBarrel]

?)

[hector13]

.) it’s nice here

[VoidSlayer]

!

[Iituem]

The blade cuts three ways.  Can a die provide resolution?  The pyramid is one too many, so let us halve the cube.  Dark granite, this one, marked in crimson.  A four, sliced in twain becomes twain itself.  The left hand fork is the middle road chosen.


You can't bring yourself to move.  Your limbs lock in place.  All you can do is try to breathe.

The back door opens, a rush of cold air you can barely feel on your skin.  A man enters the back room, bald, Asian - Oriental, you might say, to be more specific, maybe Korean or Chinese - in a long dark coat and a thick black jumper.  He stares down at you with eyes that glint in the light.

"The gambler," he pronounces, in a deep tone.  No accent, by which you mean he speaks as a newscaster might, in English RP.  Not clipped, not old fashioned, just a soft neutral.  His eyes seem to fill your focus, and their silver irises flash beneath the cold electric light.

"Do you have it?" he asks.  You are too frozen to answer.  Your eyes draw down to another glint at his side.  Long steel, gripped softly in a black-gloved hand.  A blade.  Not a samurai sword, like in the movies.  A simple guard, long and thin the blade.  You don't know swords well enough to know what time.  It fills your mind with dread, but your legs still won't work.  Your arms still won't move.

"No, then," says the man.  Just as your limbs start to respond, he takes two long steps forward and moves the sword.  Pain, then cold.  Your shirt is wet.  His eyes fill your everything.

Everything.

Nothing.

[Iituem]

It's 4 in the morning and I'm in a crazy state of mind.  Let's see what happens.


You shove your door open with your shoulder, dropping the key as you fiddle with the stuck lock - you trip, slip, and bang your head on the counter.  You swear loudly, then again more quietly.  It doesn't help, the blind dog down the hallway started barking.  He won't shut up for ten minutes now.  You pick yourself up; the key fell onto the door jamb, which you stepped on.  It's snapped in half.  Next time you leave your place, you'll need to find a key cutter.  Or maybe a locksmith.

Your head is killing you, from the day and from the counter.  You drag yourself over to the couch and reach for your oldest, most reliable habit.

w)  A bottle of scotch.  The tumbler's a little sticky and there's some left over from last night, but you pour the dregs into it anyway.
p)  Four little white pills.  It's double the painkiller dosage you're supposed to take, but it gets you through the headaches and you know they always under-egg the dosage on a pack.  It's hard to kill yourself with pills by accident.
c)  Your last line of cocaine.  It's normally more of a morning habit, to get you through the day, but right now you need the clarity and release.
g)  A scratch card, under the coffee table leg.  You'll have to rustle up a penny to scratch the silvery surface off.  Maybe today you'll win.  It's no casino, but it scratches the itch.  You make that pun every time you think about this.
s)  A pack of cigarettes.  You're trying to cut down.  Tariffs being what they are, it's expensive.  You think you'll smoke three in quick succession.

[Shadowclaw777]

w; it's inevitable, each character is going to die

[hector13]

p); not enough data to draw that conclusion. Also meta-gaming :p

[StrawBarrel]

w

[Iituem]

Overslept again.  Need to try and right my sleep cycle.  Feel awful.


Will, you empty out the last of the scotch into the tumbler.  You knock back about half of it in one go, embracing the burn down your throat.  Then you sip the rest, trying to savour it, make it last longer.  It's the only thing that can make you relax.  You feel the tension start to go, the aches and pains develop.  You carry most of your tension in your shoulders and when it comes out, your entire upper back screams in agony as the lactic acid starts to come free from your muscles.  You grunt softly, trying to focus on the drink rather than the pain.  From experience, you know this will last another ten minutes before it passes.  You shrug off your suit jacket, make a half-hearted attempt to speed up the process by massaging your neck, then give up when the pain just intensifies.  Still, you should probably do something while you're waiting for the pain to wear off and the whiskey to kick in.

j)  Well, you are out of whiskey.  Maybe go get a new bottle from the corner shop.
jj)  Turn on the telly, watch ten minutes of whatever's on.
jjj)  Catch a ten minute nap in your bedroom.