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In Progress [LP CYOA] Tower
- Thread starter treave
- Start date
- Joined
- Jul 6, 2008
- Messages
- 11,370
Saint Joan Hospital (III)
"We have a deal, then. Excellent, then let us not waste any more time than is necessary," says the young man crisply as he shakes your hand. "My name is Harold. Harold North. And I see you are..." Peering at the nametag stitched onto your uniform, he raises an eyebrow. "Wrinkly? Well, that is inconsequential."
You are not certain if he can deliver on his promise, but desperate times call for desperate measures. You can tell, if nothing else, that the doctors in the hospital have hit a dead end in their attempts. You nod at Harold. "What do you need me to do?"
"A corpse, freshly made. Not more than 12 hours must have elapsed since the time of death. I have secured a small laboratory in the east wing of the hospital, and you merely need to transport it there. It's the place with the round windows."
You know which room he is referring to - a small basement room that was previously used for storage. "That's all you need?"
"That is all I would need from you for the night. My Astra will take care of the rest," replies Harold.
You give him a silent nod and watch as he walks off towards the east wing, leaving Elizabeth alone as he promised. You glance at the door to her ward again, sighing briefly, before heading for the mortuary.
***
Another orderly is sitting in front of the mortuary, his legs perched up on the desk. Though you have seen him around, you do not know his name - the man is one of the more recent hires. He looks to be in his late thirties, slim and wiry with a moustache thicker than his arm. The orderly is more preoccupied with reading a dime novel than with his surroundings, mumbling to himself as he stares at the pages. If you are to successfully get into the mortuary, you must first get past him somehow - and of course, bring the body out without arousing any suspicions.
You decide to:
A. Talk to him and attempt to bluff your way into the mortuary, claiming that you are here on legitimate business to transport a corpse somewhere else.
B. Knock him out cold before he realizes you are there. A well-aimed astral shield to the head should work.
C. Sneak past him while he is focused on reading the book. He appears to be extremely engrossed in it.
D. Wait and watch to see if he leaves his post. Surely he can't sit there until morning?
***
Just a quick one for the time being, let's set the vote to close at about four days from now.
"We have a deal, then. Excellent, then let us not waste any more time than is necessary," says the young man crisply as he shakes your hand. "My name is Harold. Harold North. And I see you are..." Peering at the nametag stitched onto your uniform, he raises an eyebrow. "Wrinkly? Well, that is inconsequential."
You are not certain if he can deliver on his promise, but desperate times call for desperate measures. You can tell, if nothing else, that the doctors in the hospital have hit a dead end in their attempts. You nod at Harold. "What do you need me to do?"
"A corpse, freshly made. Not more than 12 hours must have elapsed since the time of death. I have secured a small laboratory in the east wing of the hospital, and you merely need to transport it there. It's the place with the round windows."
You know which room he is referring to - a small basement room that was previously used for storage. "That's all you need?"
"That is all I would need from you for the night. My Astra will take care of the rest," replies Harold.
You give him a silent nod and watch as he walks off towards the east wing, leaving Elizabeth alone as he promised. You glance at the door to her ward again, sighing briefly, before heading for the mortuary.
***
Another orderly is sitting in front of the mortuary, his legs perched up on the desk. Though you have seen him around, you do not know his name - the man is one of the more recent hires. He looks to be in his late thirties, slim and wiry with a moustache thicker than his arm. The orderly is more preoccupied with reading a dime novel than with his surroundings, mumbling to himself as he stares at the pages. If you are to successfully get into the mortuary, you must first get past him somehow - and of course, bring the body out without arousing any suspicions.
You decide to:
A. Talk to him and attempt to bluff your way into the mortuary, claiming that you are here on legitimate business to transport a corpse somewhere else.
B. Knock him out cold before he realizes you are there. A well-aimed astral shield to the head should work.
C. Sneak past him while he is focused on reading the book. He appears to be extremely engrossed in it.
D. Wait and watch to see if he leaves his post. Surely he can't sit there until morning?
***
Just a quick one for the time being, let's set the vote to close at about four days from now.
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Nevill
Arcane
- Joined
- Jun 6, 2009
- Messages
- 11,211
...we can sneak past him, sure, but how do we sneak out a corpse?
Probably could stage a distraction of some sort. If he ever goes to the bathroom we can hide the book and make him think someone took it to the lost&found or something.
Alright, if this is just a first step, I can go with it.
C. Sneak past him while he is focused on reading the book. He appears to be extremely engrossed in it.
A shield to the head works just as well on the way out. But we might not be able to experiment freely if they tighten security in response to random attack on orderlies, so I'd prefer restraint.
Probably could stage a distraction of some sort. If he ever goes to the bathroom we can hide the book and make him think someone took it to the lost&found or something.
Alright, if this is just a first step, I can go with it.
C. Sneak past him while he is focused on reading the book. He appears to be extremely engrossed in it.
A shield to the head works just as well on the way out. But we might not be able to experiment freely if they tighten security in response to random attack on orderlies, so I'd prefer restraint.
Tigranes
Arcane
- Joined
- Jan 8, 2009
- Messages
- 10,350
This is the concern. I mean, how long can it take to get a corpse from the morgue? A few minutes, right? And how often will someone come down here?
Sneak then bonk him on the way out seems best if we get that option, but I don't know if that's how it will pan out.
B>C for now.
C.
I was thinking the same things Nevill did. Sneaking a corpse is less trivial than simply sneaking yourself.
But hey, it's not like we're a smooth talker. Better sneaky than talky.
And I don't like the idea of attacking others in the hospital.
C
But hey, it's not like we're a smooth talker. Better sneaky than talky.
And I don't like the idea of attacking others in the hospital.
C
hello friend
Arcane
C
C
- Joined
- Jul 6, 2008
- Messages
- 11,370
Saint Joan Hospital (IV)
Even after having spent years in the city, you still remember. You remember how to slow down your breathing, to lower your profile, and to move with nary a sound. The tiles of the hospital may be trickier to navigate than the soft loam of the forest, but here there are no stray twigs or loose gravel to give you away. With the man engrossed in his book - The Dicktaculous Adventures of Dick Jones, the title proclaims - you sneak behind him with practiced ease. Placing one hand on the door, you push. Slowly, gently, so that the creak is almost inaudible amidst the orderly's low chuckles of amusement.
You slip into the mortuary, closing the door behind you with as much care as you opened it. The air in here is noticeably colder. A cloying smell hangs in the air. It's the unmistakable stench of death, slightly acrid and thick. Humans rot away just the same as animals do when they die. You ignore it and look at the three slabs in the center of the room, where the freshly dead lay. These were the guests of the day.
Each of them had a bell tied to their left thumb toe, a tradition from older times when medicine was not as advanced and misdiagnosis of death was not uncommon. A twitch of the toe and the bell would ring, warning the orderly that there was life yet in the body and to call for medical aid. Granted, there are also tales of the reanimated undead, horrors that had a thirst for the flesh of the living. In that case, would the bell be a warning to run, or at least to grab an axe and do some work on the newly arisen?
You give these questions a half-serious pondering as you pull back the shrouds of the corpses, examining them. Harold had not given you any specific requirements on the type of body that he would need - only that they should be fresh. All three here fit his requirements.
First was a bald giant of a man, who barely fit on the slab. His ebony skin was tinged dark purple in death, stretched over bulging muscles that looked like they could strangle a bear. Yet his strength does not seem to have saved him from a violent death. His neck was sliced open, a single clean cut with a razor-sharp blade. It looks like the morgue attendant had yet to get around to sewing the gaping wound shut.
Second was an old man, a peaceful look on his withered, pale face. Though his demeanor was that of a scholar even in death, tattoos ran the length of his entire body neck down. They were tattoos that looked almost familiar... the patterns reminded you of Tlalli, for some reason. Despite his age, you observe corded muscles that, while not as impressive as the first man's, gave off a clear impression of strength.
Last was a young girl around your age. Her short, black hair was messily cut, and you recognize the small tattoo on the side of her neck. It was the mark of a guild that operated in the seedier areas of New Vienna, for women who provided comforts both physical and mental to lonely men. You had been invited to those establishments on more than one occasion by the other orderlies, though you had always turned down the offer. The girl seems to have suffered the most indignities out of the three here - an ugly gash ran from chest to loin, and her limbs had been entirely severed. She had been dismembered, ripped apart as if by an animal.
You pause for a while, disquietened by the sight.
Just then, you hear the orderly outside moving around. His footsteps grow fainter, indicating that he has gone off somewhere. This is your chance.
***
A. You choose the giant.
B. You choose the old man.
C. You choose the young girl.
***
1. You place the body on a gurney and transport it that way. It would be faster, yet the gurney's squeaking wheels might give you away.
2. You attempt to carry the body by yourself. It would be a quieter yet slower way to proceed.
***
Even after having spent years in the city, you still remember. You remember how to slow down your breathing, to lower your profile, and to move with nary a sound. The tiles of the hospital may be trickier to navigate than the soft loam of the forest, but here there are no stray twigs or loose gravel to give you away. With the man engrossed in his book - The Dicktaculous Adventures of Dick Jones, the title proclaims - you sneak behind him with practiced ease. Placing one hand on the door, you push. Slowly, gently, so that the creak is almost inaudible amidst the orderly's low chuckles of amusement.
You slip into the mortuary, closing the door behind you with as much care as you opened it. The air in here is noticeably colder. A cloying smell hangs in the air. It's the unmistakable stench of death, slightly acrid and thick. Humans rot away just the same as animals do when they die. You ignore it and look at the three slabs in the center of the room, where the freshly dead lay. These were the guests of the day.
Each of them had a bell tied to their left thumb toe, a tradition from older times when medicine was not as advanced and misdiagnosis of death was not uncommon. A twitch of the toe and the bell would ring, warning the orderly that there was life yet in the body and to call for medical aid. Granted, there are also tales of the reanimated undead, horrors that had a thirst for the flesh of the living. In that case, would the bell be a warning to run, or at least to grab an axe and do some work on the newly arisen?
You give these questions a half-serious pondering as you pull back the shrouds of the corpses, examining them. Harold had not given you any specific requirements on the type of body that he would need - only that they should be fresh. All three here fit his requirements.
First was a bald giant of a man, who barely fit on the slab. His ebony skin was tinged dark purple in death, stretched over bulging muscles that looked like they could strangle a bear. Yet his strength does not seem to have saved him from a violent death. His neck was sliced open, a single clean cut with a razor-sharp blade. It looks like the morgue attendant had yet to get around to sewing the gaping wound shut.
Second was an old man, a peaceful look on his withered, pale face. Though his demeanor was that of a scholar even in death, tattoos ran the length of his entire body neck down. They were tattoos that looked almost familiar... the patterns reminded you of Tlalli, for some reason. Despite his age, you observe corded muscles that, while not as impressive as the first man's, gave off a clear impression of strength.
Last was a young girl around your age. Her short, black hair was messily cut, and you recognize the small tattoo on the side of her neck. It was the mark of a guild that operated in the seedier areas of New Vienna, for women who provided comforts both physical and mental to lonely men. You had been invited to those establishments on more than one occasion by the other orderlies, though you had always turned down the offer. The girl seems to have suffered the most indignities out of the three here - an ugly gash ran from chest to loin, and her limbs had been entirely severed. She had been dismembered, ripped apart as if by an animal.
You pause for a while, disquietened by the sight.
Just then, you hear the orderly outside moving around. His footsteps grow fainter, indicating that he has gone off somewhere. This is your chance.
***
A. You choose the giant.
B. You choose the old man.
C. You choose the young girl.
***
1. You place the body on a gurney and transport it that way. It would be faster, yet the gurney's squeaking wheels might give you away.
2. You attempt to carry the body by yourself. It would be a quieter yet slower way to proceed.
***
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B2.
Nevill
Arcane
- Joined
- Jun 6, 2009
- Messages
- 11,211
"die"
Oh God, there's a Jack-the-Ripper-wannabe on the loose.
There are two choices I can see. Carry a girl by ourselves since she's light and, ah, compact, or put a bigger body on a gurney and then bonk anyone who sees us with the Astra shield.
I am not sure what the choice of the body may influence. Having a body's limbs severed might make it harder to test motor functions if that is what Harold intends. Old tattoos... another hunter, perhaps? There might be people looking for the body, but using it for testing might provide unexpected results depending on whether the body was enhanced somehow. I have no idea about the implications of taking a giant's body other than it would be a pain to transport.
Thoughts, Codex?
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Since the doc is working on the brain, size shouldn't matter
The issue with carrying the girl would be dropping limbs somewhere along the way
giving a hunter's body to a wannabe Dr Frankeinstein might be dimly regarded by the association?guild? (can't remember the name), but that's a risk I'm willing to take:
B. You choose the old man.
2. You attempt to carry the body by yourself. It would be a quieter yet slower way to proceed.
The issue with carrying the girl would be dropping limbs somewhere along the way
giving a hunter's body to a wannabe Dr Frankeinstein might be dimly regarded by the association?guild? (can't remember the name), but that's a risk I'm willing to take:
B. You choose the old man.
2. You attempt to carry the body by yourself. It would be a quieter yet slower way to proceed.
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