• baneofjustin

The following contain adult themes and coarse language. Viewer discretion advised.

MINIMUM WAGE QUEST

MINIMUM WAGE QUEST - BOXED IN

MINIMUM WAGE QUEST

Introduction

ANOTHER HOUR TICKS BY as your fingers glide across your phone's keyboard. Chatting with randoms from the internet seems to be the only thing preventing you from sticking your face into the frying oil out of boredom. You check the clock on your phone: 12 PM. You can't help but sigh. You still have 5 HOURS until the end of your shift, but you have yet to TAKE YOUR LUNCH BREAK.You are TWENTY-ONE (21) YEARS OLD. You hold an ASSOCIATE'S DEGREE IN SOCIAL MEDIA MARKETING because a cute girl you liked during freshman orientation told you she was pursuing it. It is one of your biggest regrets. You are an EMPLOYEE at BIG M BURGER, off the corner of First and Market. You've enjoyed eating here as a kid for years, and now it's the only place in town that'll hire you with your degree. The food is subpar, but it's not the worst thing to eat for free during your lunch break.You would really like to see your life improve sometime soon, but for now, texting takes the edge off of how shitty your existence is.

What is your name?

You are MARCO ROHNI. You silently curse GOD for your lame ass parents choosing a name that would be the mockery of every school you attended. Your particular nickname took some time to get out of your classmates' mouths, but it also never really disappeared. You pray you never meet your fellow highschool alumni.Thankfully, no one online has to know your name. The name you use to chat on internet relay chat rooms is MQuester. You don't know why you chose it, but you forsee a swath of forced meta references.You have a variety of SKILLS. You have MODERATE LUCK currently, with a bonus in CHARISMA and VIGILANCE. You take a look at your STATBLOCK.

Ah, it looks like the old boy you were talking to is done arguing with his mother. Time for another riveting conversation...

Unfortunately, it also seems like you have a customer. Great. Now you have to actually DO YOUR JOB."Good afternoon, sir!" In front of you is a strange young fellow. The short teenager palms your nice disinfected counter with his sweaty, sweaty palms. You are not amused.

NEW QUEST! You have a new quest. Completing a quest grants you points to allocate onto your statblock.
NEW CUSTOMER - Satisfy the customer.

As unappealing as you find the guy, he basically just said hi. There's no real reason to get riled up about a clammy teen."Hi, thank you for choosing BIG M BURGER. What can I get started for you?" Silence follows your words for a good half-minute. You think back to what you last said, checking that you didn't forget to ask him what he wanted. He looks at you with the same blank smile."Hey, you weren't planning on being rude to me or anything, were you?" ...what?"What?""Yeah. For a moment, it looked like you were debating whether or not to be rude to me. Something else too, but I guess it doesn't matter. Am I right?"

This nerd... this nerd has no idea who you are, what you've been through, and he has the gall to talk about your customer service? What the hell is this guy's deal?? The spark of your indignation ignites the numbness inside you into a righteous anger! Suddenly, you've lost control of what comes out of your mouth."Dude, back the fuck off.""Oh, I didn't—""Shut up. Let me clue your dumb ass in on how I started my day today. Let me really give you my life's story since you're sooo fucking interested.""Look, I—" You can't even hear him."I woke up in my shitty apartment four hours after my double shift here just to get ready for another god damn double shift here. I've been working sixteen hours every day, earning $7.25 an hour because it's a week until my rent is due. And I'm short twice my normal paycheck.""I'm sorry—" The fool is interrupted again by your glorious yapping."Then, I decide to eat breakfast because I only have the one lunch break across sixteen hours, and I need the energy. After I microwaved an egg and half of a breakfast sausage, I realize that my trash has piled up too high for my taste. I diligently tie the bag up and expect a short, leisurely stroll to the dumpster and back only to be fighting for my life when not one, not two, but THREE raccoons assault me from all sides. I had Papa Raccoon, Mama Raccoon, and fucking Baby Raccoon on my ass, which makes me fucking Trash Goldilocks, I guess. When I managed to escape back to my own apartment, I discovered—to my horror—that I had overcooked my egg in the microwave in a non-microwave safe bowl. The whole thing imploded. When I get back home, I will have pieces of egg, ceramic, and microwave embedded in my wall. Goodbye security deposit.""Oh wow." To his credit, he looks genuinely sympathetic."And now I am right here, talking to you. And yes, fighting the urge to be rude. Are you satisfied?"

You try and end the sentence with a certain "are you feeling lucky, punk?" flair, but you end up sounding like you're just actually asking him. The adrenaline starts to wear off, and you realize you just had an enormously loud meltdown in front of a customer. A customer who is dripping with the saliva you spat at him. Panic swiftly replaces your rage. Fortunately(?), the bespectacled customer looks amused."You went on for a quite a while there.""Sorry.""You're not.""No, I'm not. How do you know that?" His face lights up as you ask."I'm a psychic, duh."

Yeah, right. Well, if he's not mad, then he should just order a goddamn burger."I'm going to!""Going to what?""Order a burger. A goddamn burger, as you put it." You start to believe that he is indeed, a psychic. Or at the very least, he can just figure out what you're thinking. Interestingly, the revelation that this freak can read your mind doesn't really frighten you. You have a very readable face; in fact, you once thought that if your face was comprised of only simple shapes and a mouth, Helen Keller could read your expression. You instead find yourself annoyed at this kid for wasting your time.Then DO IT ALREADY. Don't psychics have better places to be?"Sorry, yeah, you're right. I just find what people say versus what they think really funny. One Bigger M Burger, please."Okay. Side?"Mashed potatoes."Drink?"Could I have a medium chocolate shake instead?"Sure, it's a dollar twenty extra."Yeah, that's fine."Okay. ... That's a Bigger M Burger meal with a medium-sized shake and mashed potatoes. Anything else?"Nope."Your total is $12.22."Wow, that's a lot. Does that come with fries?"Yeah, a medium-sized fries."Okay then." He pulls out his phone from his butt pocket and taps it on the card reader. It accepts. You are a little surprised; you figured that he would trick you or something. You don't know, psychics are like, magicians, right?"We're... kind of like magicians."Does it pay well?"It can." Fuck this guy and his roundabout way of speaking.

You'll bite. He clearly wants to talk some more about his psychic powers, and you're pretty curious.I have a very important question."Oh boy. Lay it on me."Does being psychic get you any bitches? Better yet, are those bitches psychic? It's worth knowing. He smirks."It could."Fuck off. That causes him to laugh."Sorry. Yes, it totally could."Fuck off. Be specific, dude."I mean, yes, if I really tried to read the mind of someone I was interested in, I likely could get anyone I wanted. It's just not a priority of mine."Nah, I don't believe you anymore. He laughs again."That I'm a psychic? As I'm talking to you while you're just standing there mute?"Look, if I were a psychic, the first thing I'd do is pick a bad bitch up. End of story."Well, there's a whole lot more to life as a psychic than that. It's a lot heavier of an undertaking than you'd think. I shouldn't get too into it, but us psychics are chosen. Every so often, the Earth gifts a child with divine power, with the intent that the child will grow older to protect the Earth. Obviously not every psychic will want to do that, but I'm one of the ones who do. My psychic powers are solely for the purposes of defending this planet. It's a responsibility I'll have until I die."..."Sorry, was that a lot?"So there ARE psychic bitches! His smirk drops a bit."Yes."Nice. That rules.

For a moment, you contrast the grand design of this guy's life versus your own. You don't really do anything cool like that. You're actually likely a net negative to the people around you. This... sucks. A tidal wave of depression knocks you bitterly into reality. Your life is dogwater. Your LUCK drops to 4.

"Hey, cheer up. People do have worse lives."Okay, these are my private inside thoughts. Can you quit doing that?"Sorry. If it's any consolation, I didn't come here for a burger. I came here for you."

Why? Are you gonna make me a psychic too? His eyes widen, and a serious expression replaces his grin. Wait, are you for real?"Last night, I received a premonition. A vision from the Earth. A great being of destruction is fated to arrive here sometime soon, and the entire planet is at risk of being eliminated. Your friends and family, all gone. The vision went on to tell me that I would help stop it, but I would not be alone. I would have... an associate."And that's me?"It has to be. I was drawn here by some force that I could not recognize, but now I see that it was your psychic potential. You may not have discovered your powers as a child, but you can still awaken them now."Wait, wait. So if I accept, I'll get for real psychic powers?"Yes."Like what? Mind reading like you? He shrugs."I have no idea. As far as I know, I'm the only one who can read people's minds, which is a passive ability, mind you. I can't control when I read people's thoughts. But whatever powers you get, I'm sure they'll be great."Is it possible to get a really shitty psychic power? He gives you an awkward smile."Well... sure, I guess, technically."Have you seen someone with a ridiculous power?"Oh, sure. I knew this guy who could vomit fish at will. It was so strange, but really fascinating... uh, but don't let that discourage you." Right.What would I even do as your partner?"Associate," he corrects. "You would train with me as we prepare to face whatever threat is in store for us." Shit, you almost forgot about that last part.So, this would be... dangerous?"Unfortunately, yes. But when we get you trained, I bet there's nothing we can't handle."That's not very reassuring... whatever, I'll do it."Really?"The way I see it, I'm either dying broke on the streets or ripped apart by this destructive being or whatever. Both ways I'm dead. But this way I get powers. Hopefully not throwing-up-a-fish powers. He smiles. This one looks more earnest than amused."I'm glad. Alright, do you want to start now, or?"What, training? I'm at work. He shakes his head."No, silly. Awakening your powers."Oh. Can I do that here? How does that work?"Well, essentially you are not on the same wavelength as the Earth. If I manipulate your energy, I should be able to connect you to the Earth's frequency. That should evoke your hidden powers."Is it gonna hurt?"A little."...Okay.

He takes a step back, raising his right hand over his shoulder. You swear you can see his hand twitching right before his arm snaps forward, nailing you in the chest.You are suddenly reminded of the jackhammer. The first time you'd seen a jackhammer was when you were three and went to New Cork City. Your uncle was starring in a Broadway play, and your family had tickets. As you walked along the streets of the Square, you noticed a construction worker using a jackhammer to break up the concrete. You noticed the pulsing, crushing force of the machine, which itself kept a constant grating tempo. You imagine what it would be like to die for the first time.That pulsing, crushing feeling radiates from your chest to your extremities. You double up. Blood drips out of your mouth, staining your teeth red. You try to speak, but you cannot.

The world around you goes black. You feel that your eyes are open, but you cannot see. You try and grasp anything. The counter in front of you somehow feels forever away, so you try and grab something off your body. You grab your apron and accidentally rip it clean off your body, almost as if it were made of tissue paper. You collapse onto the cold linoleum floor, uncontrollably coughing up blood as you clutch your side helpelessly.Your mind turns to second-guessing itself to distract you from the agony. What if that kid was just some freak and not actually a psychic? Why did you believe him in the first place? You've never believed in spiritual mumbo gumbo, not since you were told you were baptised as a baby. What the fuck is up with that bullshit? Isn't that super dangerous?You really hope someone's getting help. You'd really hate for your final moment to be working at Big M Burger. Not like you would've been the first to have been killed at Big M Burger. These fast food places get scary.Scared... fear. You're afraid. Above all the pain and everything, you've been filled with fear since you were a child. You feel a vibration. It's strangely familiar, but you feel like you're hearing this for the first time. The pain in your chest starts to ease.

Suddenly, the black unfolds into a myriad of colors. You blast down a technicolor highway, and you can feel the vibration increasing in intensity. Alike the jackhammer, the tempo is eerily consistent, practically exact. Your body goes numb until all you can feel is the pulsing tone coursing through your body. Every vein, every crevice, every atom of your body cries out; a harmony of sound and energy fill your senses before it all stops. You reach clarity.You feel it. The Earth. You've heard it all your life, but you had no idea its voice was this distinct. You start to cry.WHAT DO YOU NEED?What? You heard what it said. I don't want to be afraid.WHAT DO YOU NEED TO DO?I don't know. But you do. I've got to make it through.The pain returns. Your ACROBATICS increases to 3! Your CHARISMA increases to 6! Your VIGILANCE increases to 8!

You feel as if you can ask it one more thing.How do I defeat the great being of destruction?YOU SEEK AN ANSWER FOR A QUESTION YOU HAVE READ INCORRECTLY. VAGUE DREAMS CAN BE INTERPRETED IN MANY WAYS. WHAT YOU BELIEVE NOW DOES NOT MATTER.I AM GRATEFUL. I HAVE CRIED OUT AND YET FEW HAVE ANSWERED. I CONSIDERED THEM MY CHILDREN. AND THEY LEAVE ME TO ROT.YOU ARE SPECIAL. PERHAPS NOT AS SPECIAL AS YOU HAVE BEEN TOLD. YOU CANNOT DEFEND ME ALONE. AND YOU CANNOT TRULY WIN IF YOU USE THE METHODS OF THE ENEMY, ELSE YOU BECOME LIKE HIM. REMEMBER BOTH OF THESE THINGS. YOU WILL UNDERSTAND FULLY WHEN THE TIME COMES.I MUST LEAVE YOU BE. IF I MEDDLE ANY FURTHER THAN I AM MEANT TO, THE FATES WILL BE ALTERED. BUT THAT IS NOT SO BAD. BEFORE I LEAVE, I WILL BESTOW UPON YOU A BOON. I WISH YOU WERE ABLE TO USE IT EARLIER. USE IT NOW AND THRIVE.DO WHAT YOU NEED TO DO, MARCO.You are now a psychic.

You cough up the last bits of blood in your throat as you suddenly regain consciousness. Your vision returns, and your first sight is the psychic kid getting cuffed by an officer. Your manager, Jared, is kneeling next to you, looking horrified at your state."Oh shit! He's awake!" Jared is a massive hypochondriac, and you imagine that seeing you hack up blood and twitch on the floor didn't help him very much. Psychic boy looks back at you, looking more than a little relieved."Hey pal! How was it?"

I have a lot of words for you after this. You turn to the cop. "Hey, you don't have to do that," you say as you wipe the blood off of your face. You still have to clutch your heart as you stand up. "He was only doing what I asked him to."You have some time to admire the classy police uniform this guy has on as he slowly furrows his brows and looks at you. You're kinda freaked out, actually; it's like watching a human sloth."You're clearly injured. And you just woke up from being unconscious, so I would sit down." You ignore his condescending tone and look at your manager."Jared, did you call the cops?" He looks almost insulted you would ask him this."Are you joking? Fuck no. He was in the drive through when you started convulsing and spitting blood everywhere. He practically leaped through the window.""Okay, so you're not pressing charges?""You're not going to?""Like I said, I asked for it." He shrugs."I don't really have time to forward anything legal to corporate." You turn back to the cop."Okay, I'm not pressing charges and neither is my manager. Look, I'm totally fine. There's no need to make a big deal about this." This guy's eyebrows are like another animal entirely the way they wiggle and bend on his head."Are you sure?""Yes.""...positive?""Yes." His shoulders droop as he uncuffs the kid."And I was one away from my quota too. Alright, carry on. You, fat one, where's my Biggest Meal?" Jared, not even remotely fazed by the out-of-pocket comment, hands him his greasy bag. The cop promptly leaves. Everyone in the room breathes out a sigh of relief. Your attention turns to the now free psychic."I have a lot of questions.""Yeah, me too," your manager interrupts. You turn to face Jared.

"Oh, hey Jared.""'Hey Jared?' What the fuck happened? You got the shit knocked out of you on purpose? You scared me half to death!""Sorry, man. I wasn't expecting that to happen. You're not gonna count that as my break, are you? That didn't count." Jared's face scrunches up, clearly offended."Man, fuck you. I was actually worried about you, motherfucker," he spits as he turns to leave. "You're cleaning all that blood up. If we fail next week's inspection because of you, I'm gonna fuck you up."The restaurant is silent for a while."So?" The psychic kid suddenly makes his presence known again. "How did it go?"

I should beat you up right now, dick. The kid's smile drops, and he raises his eyebrows. We're getting a lot of eyebrow action today it seems."Hey, I told you it would hurt a little!"That was a little? I thought I was gonna die."I'm sorry. I've never tried to awaken another psychic before. Was it bad the whole time?"I don't know if it was really bad or good. It was just... I felt like everything was new but also everything was familiar. I could see ages of history fly past me like a straw in the wind. I could feel space around me disassemble itself and myself until every atom formed into a homogeneous mixture. It was like being on acid."You've tried acid?"That's not the point.You breathe in deeply, a newfound energy stirring within your chest. You're a psychic now. Or at least, you're pretty sure. That kid said something about you getting an ability, right? Did the Earth say that, too? You've gotta be able to do something freaky. Your target... a leftover plastic spoon on the counter! You strike a mystical pose and begin to undulate your body—you assume this is what you're supposed to do—as you try and focus energy into the spoon. What did that bald kid in the Matrix say? You are the spoon... there is no spoon...?!"What are you doing?"You are asking way too many questions. I'm trying to unlock my psychic powers."I... I don't think that's how you do it." You grit your teeth; you try to concentrate but this guy just really knows how to get under your skin.You wanna know what I think? I think you know a whole lot less than you're letting on."How do you mean?"I spoke to the Earth... or at least I'm pretty sure I did? It's... a little foggy. But I'm sure that I was told I didn't know the whole truth about the being of destruction. Something about dreams being misinterpreted. He looks past you with a thoughtful expression on his face."Interesting. I'd hoped I wasn't too off, but... were you told about anything else?"It's really hard to remember too many specifics. Something about an enemy...?"That sounds like my vision. I wonder what I misinterpreted."Wait, I do remember one more thing: What I believe now does not matter."What you believe now... doesn't matter?"Yeah."Woah."What? You know what that means?"No, that is just... super vague and unhelpful."I could say the same about you. You take your attention off of the nerd and start really focusing on the spoon. At first, you take note of its shape, its curvature, but soon you start noticing the weight, the material composition. The polymers in the spoon, while dissimilar to your organic compounds, make you take note of the way matter exists in the states you see it in. The chemical and physical changes to change them... willing them would take an incredible amount... of... energy!

You watch with expanded eyes as the spoon slightly crumples up by itself. You expend 1 ENERGY. Your ENERGY drops to 9."HOLY SHIT!"

You clear your throat, casually pick up the compressed plastic spoon, and lean on your arm on the counter. That was so smooth. Glasses seems excited too."That's awesome! You really are psychic now. How do you feel?" You give an uninterested shrug.Yeah, I mean, it's whatever. These things come easy to me."Uh-huh. Well, this is much faster than most psychics. I couldn't do anything to objects for about 10 months after I awakened my powers. I was a lot younger than you though."How young were you when you could do this?"Uh, 10 months old." Wow. You suddenly feel a lot less proud of yourself. However, you reason that you've only been a psychic for twenty minutes, and having the skill equivalent to a psychic infant is still better than what you had before all this. You feel a lot better. You can tell the imp in front of you is reading exactly what you're telling yourself and you grow frustrated.Quit it!"Sorry! I told you, I can't control it. It's passive. You should have a passive effect too."I can read people's minds?"It's different per psychic. Can you read my mind?"I don't think so. How can you tell?"Well, if you can't tell, I guess you can't. It's pretty obvious when you can read someone's thoughts."Then how do I know what I have? Nothing seems different. Was it maybe the spoon thing?"No, what you did to the spoon was just basic psychokinesis. You don't have an extra perception? No tingling feeling in your limbs? Anything?"Nothing."That's... weird. You should get a passive effect from the start."Damn. Wait, so you were able to read minds out the womb??"Something like that. I don't remember it at all, but my mom said I was very quiet when I was born."Weird. He smirks."What's weird is that you believed me and let me make you a psychic without knowing anything about me. I don't think I even told you my name yet." Oh... yeah. That's awkward. ... You should probably ask— "My name is Frederick. Or just Fred. Not Freddie. Only my parents and my older sister call me Freddie."I figured you'd have a more... out there name."Well, the first idea was Yevgeny after my uncle. But my parents are huge Scooby-Doo fans, so I became Fred. Guess what my older sister's name is."I dunno, Velma?"Scrappy."Your parents are evil, man."I know." You decide to get back on topic.

Seeing as how you're the expert here, how did you train your powers? Did you have to exercise it like a muscle or something? A nervous look slowly appears on his face."I've, uh... never trained my powers."Well, what does that mean? Are you powerless?"Well, no. But I never really needed to train. Things just kind of made sense for me instinctually. I haven't hardly used a fraction of it."Really."Yeah... I was hoping to figure out training the same way. It can't be too hard, right?"You're really underprepared here."Don't you think I know that? I came here on impulse; I have no idea how I'm supposed to go forward. I know I just have to." You sigh.Okay, then. Can we talk more later? I still have four more hours of my shift. And I'd like to get my manager less pissed at me."Okay, cool." You both quickly exchange phone numbers. "Are you off tomorrow?" You glare at him.What do you think?"Yeah, I really should have known better. Okay, so I'll see you here tomorrow on your break?" You guess you don't really have a choice. "Great! See you then," he says as turns to walk away."Wait!" You exclaim with your real voice. He looks back, eyebrow raised. "Are you satisfied?""What kind of question—""Just answer it! Are you satisfied?""Yes...?"YOU HAVE COMPLETED 'NEW CUSTOMER - Satisfy the customer.' Your BRAWN increases by 2! Your INTELLIGENCE increases by 1!

You watch as Fred leaves the restaurant. You suppose there's nothing else left to do but work. Somehow, you're grateful you're getting back to work. It's a perverse, uncomfortable feeling, but you guess a fast food job really doesn't match up against cosmic duty. You're also surprised by how désinvolte you've been about this whole psychic thing. You'd never have predicted this is how your day would have gone when you were battling three raccoons for your garbage.The rest of the day goes by almost too smoothly. Jared gives you a strange look as you both swap shifts with the overnight crew."Hey, I couldn't help but overhear you when you were shouting earlier." You turn to face Jared."Sorry about that," you reply a bit sheepishly. He shakes his head."No, I get it. I'm in a similar situation. Payday's only a few days away, so hang in there." With that, he speedwalks to his car, swiftly backs out of his manager parking spot—nestled nicely between the garbage dumpster and the recycling dumpster—and leaves you standing there. Similar spot your ass; you wish you had a car....An excrutiatingly long bus ride later, you're back in your apartment. You've never wondered what it would be like to be sandwiched between two incredibly old, incredibly fetid women who are yelling at each other. Now you know. You toss your backpack on your bed. Your STUDIO APARTMENT is the size of a hall closet, but after long hours at Big M, you find it rather cozy. You have maybe an hour of free time before you should probably go to sleep, so you can wake up in time for work tomorrow.

You are now CLEAN. That shower really hit the spot. You were having fun mindlessly daydreaming about some bitchin' hoes, but now the fun is over. You don a WELL-WORN BATHROBE as you squeeze your loofah dry. You wouldn't consider yourself a germophobe, but you're known for being clean and wanting your general surroundings to be clean. And right now, your poor loofah is filled with nasty gunk from—"BLOOD! BLOOD ON THE WALLS!!"Without warning, your spotless peace gets interrupted by a shriek. That's... no, you've had enough of a day to worry about this. You live in a rough neighborhood, people scream all the time. You quickly check your walls. NOT BLOODY. Good. Just some crazy—But she keeps screaming. In fact, a few more join her. You try to recognize anyone, but none of the screams or voices sound familiar. This is truly haunted shit. It actually sounds like you live in a graveyard. Soon, more commotion ensues. Loud, damaging impacts crumble the building's walls above you. DIRECTLY ABOVE YOU. If you felt safe before, that feeling is gone now.

You've had quite enough of all this shaking and screaming. You head out of your apartment and venture inside the elevator. While you're quite hopeful this is just a textbook loud upstairs neighbor case, your gut is telling you the opposite. You really hate your stupid gut.You can HEAR A MELODY PLAY. This surprises you; you've never heard music in this elevator before. The song is weird, too. There's no instrumental, just STRANGE CHANTING. You mark this down as another reason to move out of this shithole.As the elevator doors open, you brace yourself for... nothing. There is NO BLOOD ON THE WALLS. The SCREAMING HAS STOPPED. Not a goddamn sound. This isn't the first time your upstairs neighbors have been loud, though this one is a bit cryptic. Someone better not be playing a prank on you. You are not in the mood."It is too goddamn late for this!" You yell into the hall. "I can tolerate your get-togethers, but right now, I need my beauty sle—" Your ranting is interrupted by another loud smash; this one causes the door to swing open and slam against the adjacent door before it slowly creaks half-closed. This is MUCH too freaky.You INVESTIGATE the area. The hallway itself looks fine; nothing seems out of place. You've successfully confirmed that whatever is going on, it's going on in the unit directly in front of you. The unit that also happens to be DIRECTLY ABOVE YOURS. This is concerning.

You wait for a moment, hoping that whoever is inside didn't get too offended by your shouting. If anyone did hear, no one seems to be leaving to confront you. You crouch and sneak towards the doors on your tippy-toes. Thinking on it, you've never really had to be very stealthy, so sneaking like this is very hard for you.As you reach the door, you can hear movement inside. Two, no, three sets of footsteps are audible. You think back to the layout of your apartment to try and figure out where people are walking. ... ONE IN THE MAIN ROOM and TWO IN THE BATHROOM. You build up the courage to peek through the agape door.You can barely see without opening the door. The layout is definitely the same as yours, with different furniture. The most obvious observation you can make is THE GIANT BALD MAN standing in the middle of the room. He wears a grey jumpsuit with the numbers "02" patched onto the back. The man PRESSES TWO FINGERS TO HIS TEMPLE, which obscures the rest of his face. He definitely should have heard you, but you suppose he looks busy. This night just gets weirder and weirder.

Out of a mixture of desperation and perhaps misplaced empathy, you decide to CALL YOUR MOM. You haven't talked to the ol' gal in a while, and that whip-smart noggin of hers could surely figure out a way out of this seemingly sticky situation. Within a minute of dialing her phone number, you realize your error."I thought I told you not to call here.""Hi, mom." You have to remind yourself you cannot raise your voice as you are directly next to the open room."Hi, good-for-nothing. If I were delusional, I would've have thought you had finally stopped shaming us, but unfortunately I am sane. Have you talked to your sister lately? If there's any chance that success is contagious, you should be hanging around her every day of the week." You nearly forgot the ROHNI CREED. While not a formally written rule, it has been practiced and proven for the century that your family has been in this country. When a Rohni child hits the wonderful age of 18, they are promptly kicked to the streets to make something of themself. You're pretty sure the minimum criteria is a six-figure salary. You'd love a five figure salary. Hell, you'd love a salary, but unfortunately, your performance has been much too lackluster to consider moving you to a salaried position. Asshats."I haven't talked to her, no. I don't really see much of a reason to." Your older sister is a pretentious thing. She started a business with her friends from college and struck gold. You can't remember exactly what she sells, but she sells a lot of it. You dislike your sister heavily."So nothing has changed?""Nothing has changed.""Nothing has changed, he says. And yet, he calls!" Here we go. "In the history of the Rohni name, not one child has called their parents before they're a success. I nearly had a heart attack and passed in peace, satisfied that my worthless deadbeat son has finally made the family name proud. But no, I survive to hear that you still have nothing but a meaningless fast food job and a useless degree. Thank you for calling, bambino." She promptly hangs up. Damn. You try not to dwell on this too hard, and instead direct your attention to the next person you're interested in calling.

"Hi, who's this?" You raise an eyebrow.You didn't save my number?"Hello?" Guess he can't read your mind through the phone."You didn't save my number?""Marco! Hey man, what's up?""Hey Fred, I think I could use your help. There's something freaky going on.""What's going on?" You notice that his cheerful tone starts to slip. You explain...."And that's basically it." Silence follows your words."Marco, you need to get out of there." He sounds like he just pissed his pants."You know what's going on?""Weird sounds? Screaming about seeing things? That guy you saw? Totally a psychic! I bet anyone who's in there with him is a psychic too!""Damn. You're telling me to run?""Yes, I'm telling you to run! Those are natural born psychics. They've had all their life to use their powers. From what you've told me, they're probably using them right now. The difference in skill between you and them is like... like... oh what's a good metaphor here...?""Coughing baby and hydrogen bomb?""Coughing baby and— what? What are you talking about?""Nevermind. So I can't take them?""Are you stup— look. You bent a spoon; that's great! But that is literally child's play to these guys. If they're not nice psychics, they can turn your body inside out and dissolve you into tiny particles until you evaporate. And they don't sound like nice psychics." This is really boosting your confidence."So, run.""Yes.""You're not even going to help me out?" The phone clicks. Fuck everyone you know.

You realize that you haven't thought about your sister since she graduated college. Hmmm. You honestly can't see the greater purpose in fleeing to your sister's little store, but you remind yourself that 1) anywhere would be better than here and 2) it would be really funny. You mentally plot out a harebrained scheme that you will neither follow nor remember.As you're about to slink away, the apartment door swings open. The large gentleman pushes it open with one hand, and as he peers in, his face comes into view. Three very sloppy and painful looking stitches sew his eye closed, and his face is held in a grotesquely frustrated expression. You can't really seem to blame him.He silently growls as he listens to the hallway, somehow unaware of your presence next to him, just a few feet away. Your heart races away as you prepare to do the same.

You first steady your breathing. Big dude hasn't noticed you yet, and you're keen on maintaining the status quo. You very gracefully extend your fingers off the wall before gently lifting your foot up to move ever so slightly away from the door. The rest of your body follows through in a fluid motion, quietly making its escape. You're positive that the accompanying artistic piece will reflect your finesse.The giant oscillates his head as if he were some sort of turret, scanning the area. You enjoy this wonderful opportunity to examine his face as you try to make yourself scarce. His head looks as if it were carved from a wood block. Quite poorly at that. No other marks or scars are on his skin save for the eye stitches. Just pale taut skin curled into a mean frown.You realize that this guy is the second (possible) psychic you've seen. Are they all this weird? Fred was kind of normal, but this guy is perhaps the strangest character you've ever met. It's almost as if he isn't human, but you're not crazy enough to put too much stock into that train of thought. Not yet, at least. You really hope he actually cannot hear you and isn't just pretending to scare the shit out of you later.As you get closer to the elevator, it seems as if the man himself has lost interest in the area. He scans the hallway one more time before retreating into the room, closing the door behind him. Phew. You escape via elevator....your apartment complex should really have stairs. This is a dangerous fire hazard.

As you reach your floor, you make a run for your room. You've got to get out of here as soon as possible, so you just grab the essentials. Your KEYS, WEEK-OLD HAM SANDWICH, and TECH DECK COLLECTION go into your bag. There's not much time to lose. You zip up your bag, but not before stuffing two bricks inside: NOODLE and CLAY. You may never know when you might need these. This... this bag... fills you with nostalgia. This was your old college backpack. The things this bag has seen... and will see, you suppose.

It's time to go. You put your phone in your pocket (well-charged since you plugged it in while you were in the bathroom) and quickly head out. You keep a cautious eye on your surroundings, making sure that Mr. See No Evil isn't nearby. It looks like the coast is clear, so you make a beeline for the bus stop.
It's dark outside. Really dark. You look towards the city skyline, and it just seems to glow. You feel a clashing mix of peace and unease. According to the bus schedule, the next bus will come by in about 10 minutes. It's also the last bus, so when you get to the station, you'll have to continue on foot.As you wait, you take a moment to reflect on your day. This afternoon, you were turned into a psychic, threw up blood, talked to the Earth, and bent a spoon. This evening, you somehow narrowly escaped death (?) and are now headed towards your sister's strip mall store. Your mind is filled with disquiet as you try and imagine what is to happen. Before today, you had a pretty good idea what the next day was going to look like. Wake up, bus, Big M, bus, sleep. Now, the future is in your hands. LITERALLY. You're supposed to stop some big demon thing? Why would you agree to that?Your head hurts. Dozens of voices fill your head, each one of them calling out for a slightly different course of action. You look to the city again. You're bound to meet new people on your journey. You can't win on your own, apparently. You wonder what they'll be like. Suddenly, you're illuminated by a sharp light.The bus is here. You step inside.END OF INTRODUCTION.

BOXED IN

1 - Assassins

"JESUS FUCK." A bit of spit leaves the girl's mouth with the utterance of the expletive. The thin blonde man shoots an annoyed look at his coworker as he leans on his broom, watching her wipe the spit from her chin."Hey, management said we couldn't curse. Get that side for me." The brunette gives him an indifferent glance, grabs a dustpan, and starts sweeping in various things: rose petals, scrapped, BADLY FRAMED PHOTOS, a dust of cocaine that had slipped from some celebrity's torn pocket. She scoffs at the discovery of a used condom leaking all over the concrete."Just saying. You'd think that at a big event like this, people would be a bit more dignified." She turns to look at the big black block letters that burned boldly on the arena sign.

MILLER V HAWKE
FATHER V SON
TONIGHT

I WANT TO GO HOME. Beatrice sits uncomfortably in her very-comfortable VIP chair. She didn't hate boxing; SHE GREW UP WITH IT, after all. But she hated what was happening in front of her. Mostly, she was angry. Angry at a great many things. She looks to her left.This is some guy her husband knows. He's a sponsor... or SOMETHING. His face is... so greasy. It's almost plastic. He turns to her with a cardboard smile."Enjoying the match, Bee?" He gives her a thumbs up. She doesn't return the gesture. Just another disgusting businessman. They turn back to the bloodbath in front of them. She looks to her left.This face was immediately recognizable. With her wispy, Marilyn Monroe hair and her faux-refined demeanor. Bea grits her teeth. She was mostly mad at her husband. He was the one who initiated the affair... and GAVE HER TRIPLET BASTARDS. She can't really blame Claire, she's a victim in this just as much as Bea was. She can, however, look into her eyes and watch the girl look dreamily at her husband and feel like blowing up a building. She turns back to the bloodbath in front of her.She watches as her husband and her father kill each other on the stage. The Nicest Boxer In The World and The Hawk.

THE CROWD WATCHED AS BOTH MEN DEMONSTRATED EXACTLY HOW WELL THEY COULD KILL EACH OTHER. David's technique was perfect. His rhythm kept him up and fighting, but The Hawk was too good at punishing his brash hooks. But after 2 rounds, TNBITW finally got a solid crack at his mentor's mandible.Seats could be heard creaking as nearly everyone leaned forward to get a better look. The hit reverberated throughout the theater, sweat flew out like tiny, salty bullets. The audience's faces feel cool as they watch The Hawk stumble a bit, then barely hold himself up. His face almost seems to swell as his nose erupts in blood, pouring down his rugged face like a fountain. He tumbles onto the ring floor on his belly.

Ian "The Hawk" Hawke was dead.

You are MARCO ROHNI, briefly awoken by the BUS HORN. The bus you are in, of course, to stakeout your SISTER'S PLACE OF BUSINESS while you hide from psychics who may or may not be trying to kill you. While you yourself, of course, are a psychic. A psychic newbie, you admit, but you're destined to save the world. Maybe, there was some confusion there. You're also VERY BROKE, and an EMPLOYEE at BIG M BURGER, off the corner of First and Market. You recall fighting raccoons also.You would really like to see your life improve sometime soon, but for now, messing with your sister will do you some good.You take a brief moment to look at your STATBLOCK.