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Thread Review (Newest First)

Posted by MarxzVulpez - 7 hours ago

okay so
I think we should establish a few things, like
its name if it has one, polite and would probably be easier than just calling it The Virus?
your name, or an alias i guess if you don't want it to know that info...yet (or if it already doesn't?? it does seem to know some stuff already but it might be just by deduction)?
its purpose/goal (you know part of it but what about more), how it got here/in the bot (you probably have a suspicion already but let it tell)
favorite color if it has one if we needed a safer probing question maybe?
probably a plan for if we want h.q./our higher ups to even know if it exists
- along those lines establish/figure out how the job is going to work from here on out with it here
if it really was the food that made you sick or something else, three days out of date shouldn't normally have been That bad unless you under cooked it or something, and the stress/sudden excitement can't have helped
not really a priority but your Brave Ballistic Buddy (the olm) should probably get picked back up at some point

Posted by knux400 - 7 hours ago

So... we're now stuck with this virus thing for a year?

...

Better ask for a name and pronouns, I guess.

Posted by SHIVERS - 11 hours ago

Delivery bay.

You can use the drone there.
It's a bit of a run there, but it's relatively secure.

All you have to do is make it there.

You hear them typing on your computer.

You don't know what else they might want here, but
now's probably the busiest they're going to be.

The plush
could be a distraction, maybe?

Why would-
You don't really have time to think.

You grab it, ready to throw in case you need to, and-

It's

chirping

in your hand.
It's glowing pink.

You see the 'SQUEEZE ME!' on its underside.
You are going to die.

You scramble to your feet, and toss the plush in the direction of the computer.

There, it bounces off the head of

the drone.

The one with purple triangles.
The one from the gate.
The one you piloted earlier today.

It's moving on its own.

It'd been typing
something you can't see from here

into several programs.

You're frozen
for just a moment

as its head swivels
its camera focusing on you.

You bolt for the door,
slamming your way through it into the entryway,

nearly stumbling over

your

your jacket, snow boots-

You're going to be running outside without them,
you don't even have SHOES on!

Doesn't matter, does NOT matter right now.

You hear solid, metallic CLUNK noises from the other room.

It's running after you.

You reach the entrance door,
spotting that the drone had Easily broken through the lock to get inside.

You push the door open and

You are no longer moving forward.

Your legs seem to sputter, and you stumble,
as something cold and metal has a TIGHT grip on your shoulder.

By the time you're done processing this,
the hand on your shoulder has pulled you off your feet.

Airborne,
then sliding on your back for just a moment;
tossed away from the exit, back into the hall.

Your back stings from skidding on the concrete floor.

The sound of servos fills the air.
The singular lens focusing upon you, as it steps closer.

A crackling, synthetic voice- as if it's still trying to acclimate to the system- fills the air.

"Interesting.
You Seem to be stationed alone."

Its voice is synthetic, with a crackling sound; like it's still trying to acclimate to speaking.

"Why is that?"

The drone's lens re-focuses, as if it's decided upon something.
You're grabbed by the ankle, and it begins to drag you back into the work room.

You hardly have time to process the fact that it SPOKE to you.

You scramble, trying to wrench your leg from its grasp, but the drone is far, far too strong.
You push your other leg forward instead, managing to get your other foot in front of its own; trying to make it fall.

It kicks your foot out of the way.

"They left these drones here for you.
And still the computer has more protection than you do."

You're back in the work room, now.
The door shuts behind your head as you're dragged along.

Your hands reaching out helplessly, trying to grab at anything.
The drone isn't even bothered.

You manage to snag onto the edge of the couch,
only for the couch to drag along the floor With you;
the drone apparently haven't no trouble pulling you both.

You do your best to hold tight.

You-

Right. You can speak.

You haven't spoken to anyone in weeks.

"Let GO of ME."

The drone turns,
its' eye locked upon you.

"Finally found your voice."

You're suddenly YANKED closer,
as it releases your ankle and pins you down by the shoulder instead.

Leaning closer.
Tugging at your shirt.
Looking over you.

A yelp finds its way out of you,
and you reach up, pushing at the drone's camera as you try to pull your way out from under it.

"I'm-

If you don't LET GO, I'll..."

As you press at its camera, you hear-

As if something's wrong, a deep, droning, CRACKLING sound spits out of its speaker.
It's loud enough to make you let go and cover your ears.

It takes a moment to re-stabilize itself.
Slowly turning its head back to you.

"You ?
What will you do, exactly."

Your ears are still ringing.

You barely hear what it says.

You're panting, still held down by it.

"Just...

what

do you want
with Me?
You can use the computer - I don't care!
Just get OFF me.

...please."

You have a headache from the horrible noise it made.
Or maybe from when it threw you across the room.

You don't know.
You can hardly Think.

It waits.

Stepping off of you-
before lifting you off the floor by your shirt collar,

"Your computer?
It won't let me in.
It seems to be the most secure thing about this place."

It proceeds to drop you on the couch.
Going back to the keyboard.

"I trust you won't try to run again.
Neither of us should waste that effort."

You look over at it, watching it type.

You don't know what it was trying to use the computer for,
but the computer itself didn't seem to offer much function;
its internals were mostly locked down, it probably couldn't do much with it.

Not that you were going to tell it that.

You needed to strategize.
But, you had a question, first and foremost.

"...what... are you?
You took over the drone, right?
Or... you've... been self-aware this whole time?

Just, tell me what y..."
Your sentence trails off.

It waits for you to finish speaking.
When you don't, however, its head turns.

You

don't feel good.

You stand
and run
on instinct.

This time, towards your bedroom.

You hear the clnk, clnk, clnk of mechanical footsteps following you.

It doesn't seem to be in a rush.

You make it to your bedroom.

You cover your mouth.

You reach the bathroom, and

You

pull your face away from the toilet bowl.

You're sitting on the bathroom floor.

Stupid. Fucking. Expired food.
This is the WORST time for this to happen.

You cough.

You can still taste it.
Is this the last thing you're going to taste before that thing decides to just Kill you?

You lean back against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

The drone finally steps into the doorframe, looking over at you;
and it seems to know you're in no state to run.

It approaches slowly, taking in your room.

Looming over you once it's finally close enough.

But it doesn't make any move to harm you.

"They can't even send you edible food.
A shame."

You scoot back a couple of inches, but your restroom is tiny.

You stare up at the grey and purple drone's camera.

"How did-

...How d'you know about that?
How d'you know about any of this?

What are you...?"

"You vomited."

It points at the toilet.

"That doesn't-

You mentioned 'them'.
You said I was stationed alone.

How d'you know about any of that?"

Its shadow covers you.
The sound of servos whirring.

"Basic commands from the drone,
And your computer.

It's not like anyone could do this all by themself."

You don't move.

It's standing right over you.

You feel sick again.
You're sweating.
Your head's still pounding.

"What

are you?"

It slowly kneels down.

Tilting its head.

A mechanical claw reaches under your chin.

"A virus.
One not happy to be stranded out here."

You think about pulling your head away.

You don't feel like you can move.

"Are

you going to

hurt me?"

"No.

Why would I?"

"...Then why'd you--?!"

You grab hold of the sink, using it to pull yourself up to your feet.
You're shaking, still.

"If you don't want to be stranded here, then just Leave in that drone.
I don't care if you have it.
I just need you t..." You gag.

Your hand flies over your mouth, eyes closing.

You manage to keep yourself from getting sick again.
The shift in gravity hadn't helped.

"There isn't anything else.

For miles.

You.
You're my ticket out."

" . . .

I don't GET to leave for like,
probably a Year or longer!

This is my job.
I'm stuck out here,
on my own,
until then.

Even in the event of an emergency they will likely leave me out here To Die."

You cough.

Why

did you just tell this thing

that you're essentially Useless to it?

"Just...
...if you're just Patient, you can go.
Or you can go back in the gate.
Those're your... y-your..."

You need to stop talking.
You need to sit down.

You feel horrible.

It waits for a moment, seeming to think.

"I can be patient."

It stands up, stepping out of the doorframe.

You watch it, as it stands just inside your bedroom.

"...hang on."
You shut the door.

You lean heavily on the sink, finally catching your breath.

You open the bathroom cabinet,
finding some heavy antacid pills,
and swallow them down.

Hoping you can keep them down.

You need to sit.

You step through the door,
cautiously walking past the infected drone.

You grab the trash can from the corner of the room,
drag it by your bed just in case,
and take a seat on the bed.

You

need to figure out what to do, exactly.

As far as you know,
it's only infected this drone, so far.
This is already an issue.
You can't exactly do expeditions with that drone when it's under this thing's control.

There's still the drone here at the station - currently in its charging station, in one of the closets,
and the drone out at the delivery bay - presumably also still in its charging station.

Both of them need to stay uninfected, ideally.
Same goes for the main computer, which it seems like it's already tried to infect.

But you have no leverage.
And you barely know anything about this
'virus' thing.
It must be very advanced, given that it's walking, and talking.
Considering it likely came from inside the gate, you'd guess as much.

You don't want to get on its bad side.

You need a plan.
You could talk to it, now, too.
Ask questions, get info

without pissing it off.

You realize
that

some part of you

is

relieved.

To not be alone here, anymore.

You're really losing it.

You figure out what to do.

Posted by skinstealer - Today, 01:26 AM

delivery bay might be best to get a drone going but- are there any other things aside from the computer an intruder might be interested in? survival and getting them the fuck out of here is the biggest goal but its something to consider re: their next potential move

Posted by palencorgi - Yesterday, 10:23 PM

Drone bay sounds best. You're tired and scared and don't know what the intruder can do. The drones will likely be more effective than a melee weapon.

Posted by knux400 - Yesterday, 10:03 PM

(07-31-2025, 07:19 PM)SHIVERS Wrote: They apparently have microphones in them somewhere that would respond to simple voice commands,
but you've only ever piloted them remotely via the station computer, and mostly just for expeditions.

The drone bay seems like the safest option, and the one that involves the least amount of direct conflict.

Grab the salamander plush- throwing it at them might distract them for a second or two, which could make a huge difference if they end up chasing you. Sneak to the door as quietly as possible, then once you open the door, book it as fast as possible to the drone bay. If you think you can lock, block, or bar any of the doors between you and the drone bay in about a second or two, do it- otherwise don't waste your time.

Once you're at the drone bay, wait for a few moments to see if it follows you in. If not, have the drone escort you back inside. Take a quick detour to grab the pipe wrench, then attempt to retake the control room.

Posted by SHIVERS - Yesterday, 09:46 PM

You open the 'personal item' box.

Inside is

a
stuffed toy.

You recognize the species it's based on immediately;
a type of blind, aquatic cave salamander.

But upon closer inspection,
it's got varying textures across it; the back and tail are somewhat bumpy, while the sides, underside, and face are squishy and soft, with a sort of rubbery texture for the frills.

Some part of this
very slightly bothers you.
No part of them is bumpy, and why wouldn't the frills have a more feather-like texture instead?
But,
this is a toy, and clearly not made to be anatomically accurate.
It isn't a big deal at all.

The far more important issue, anyway,
is that:
You would not have picked this.

Plush or not, this is a fidget toy, especially given that it's essentially small enough to fit in a pocket - though, it would need to be a rather large pocket.

You can't exactly use something like this, given your wrist problems.
And you wouldn't really order something like this to sit on your desk, either.
Plushes have never been much your thing, since

th h
n .

And, this is clearly a toy.
You'd feel self-conscious about picking this kind of thing when your coworkers, or your boss, or whoever handles the orders would know about it.
You still feel that way, even if you really feel like You didn't choose this.

Maybe

The options are always very limited

...you think. Your memory has been fuzzy, lately.
Maybe this really was, somehow, the best option available at the time?

Or, more likely, you misinterpreted whatever this option happened to be.
Maybe it just said 'SALAMANDER' and you guessed wrong at what it would be.

Or,
most likely,
they just sent you something you didn't choose.

It isn't as if you'll ever get an explanation, and you don't see the point in including this detail in the report.

Oh well.

You rotate the little thing in your hands.

A sticker on its underside commands 'SQUEEZE ME!'
You do not do this.

You debate leaving it here, in the delivery bay,
but you don't really want to end up seeing it on the security cam and doing a double-take.

Plus, something about doing that would make you
sad.
Abandoned toys, and all that.

You can't have it on your desk, as you'll be tempted to mess with it while working and you don't want to risk unnecessary pain,
and you don't want it in your bedroom; you feel like it'd creep you out at night, somehow.

Kitchen?
No, it'd just get in the way and get dirty.
Windowsill in the restroom?
Moisture would accumulate during showers. You don't want to make it moldy.

The couch.
It can just sit on one of the armrests.
Somewhere you won't end up staring at it, and won't be too inclined to mess with it, either.

That works.

You toss it into one of the supply bags and head back to the station.

By the time you've gotten all the supplies put away and organized, your hour is almost up.
Not only that, but the lack of sleep is really starting to hit you.

You push through it.
Just need to last until your shift ended.

You spin in your work chair, glancing over at the salamander on the couch's armrest.

From this distance, it does look less like a toy and more like a small, decorative pillow, or something.
Maybe you could stand to decorate a little more in general. Though, you'd rather get something practical for your weekly personal item.

Something to consider, at least.

You check off the task box.

11:15 AM - 12:00 PM: LUNCH BREAK

You still haven't eaten anything.

You still don't feel hungry.
Probably about time to force yourself, though.

You make your way into the kitchen/dining area and begin checking through the fridge and cabinets.

You just got fresh vegetables, meat, and they were even nice enough to actually let you have some spices, this time around.

But, you don't really have the energy to cook any of that.
You're getting to the point where you can feel your eyes trying to close.

With a sigh, you pull some spinach leaves out of the package and munch them down.
You debate taking a bite of one of the carrots, but the thought of raw carrot texture in your mouth makes you gag a little.
Vegetables done. Whatever.
You're better off clearing out the older food, anyway.

In the back of the freezer, you find a microwave meal; noodles, mushrooms, something or other. Fine.
You pull it out and examine the package.

Aren't these things meant to last for months?
How is this one expired by a week already?
They must be just putting up things they don't want as options; nearly expired or maybe not-so-fresh food.

It's
likely fine.
It's only a 'best by' date, it's only a week out, and you really, really hate to waste food, if you can help it.
You don't want to run out when you need it.

In a few seconds, it's in the microwave, with its various included packets strewn about the counter.

You re-read the instructions multiple times, including having to fish it from the trash can after throwing it away too early.
They're very simple instructions, but you keep somehow reading them and either not parsing them as language, or immediately forgetting what they say.
Maybe you're just that tired.

The microwave dings soon enough, and you follow the instructions before putting the

The microwave dings again.

You retrieve your meal, stirring it as you walk back into the work room and sit gently on the couch,
careful not to spill your garbage meal on yourself.

'Garbage meal' is more apt than you would ever want it to be.
You like mushrooms. What did they do to these?

Is it really just that expired? How?
You can hardly stomach this.

You wolf it down, regardless, forcing the food into your mouth in an effort to get it out of the way quicker.

It's done.

You finished it.
You toss what's left in the trash with gusto.
At least the ordeal is over.

There's still a few minutes left on your lunch break.

You're too tired to do much.
You pick out some movie and pop it in the player for later.

You spend the rest of your lunch break essentially staring at the wall.

It's eventually over, and you check off your lunch break.

12:00 PM - 3:00 PM: EXPEDITION (DRONE)

You've

been dreading this.
You did a good enough job keeping your mind occupied.
But now that it's Time again, all the worry is back, too.

At least you don't have to do it yourself this time.

You can just

do a quick one.

It doesn't require anything in specific of you,
and expeditions were sometimes shorter or longer than the allotted time.

The worst that happens is your employer docks a little bit of your pay when you actually make it back.
You could worry about that then; who cares.

You pinch your leg, trying to get yourself to move.

You open the drone control program.

You select the one at the gate.

It activates, and soon enough, you're seeing through its camera.

The controls were mostly simple enough; a bit like a game,
though the drone's movements were usually slower and weightier, especially the turning of its head.
There's a text box on the side where you can type in commands, too.
Usually this was easier for certain actions, especially ones that required dexterity, like interacting with objects.

With the drone awake,
you walk it to the main portion of the room.

The gate stands before it.

A huge, rectangular frame - at least ten feet tall and thirty feet wide - containing what looked to be iridescent sheets of glass in the center.

'ACTIVATE GATE', you type in.

With an ease of movement you couldn't replicate using the controls,
the drone pulling several switches on the console in front of the gate,
before pressing its hand on the button, holding it down for a few seconds.

The 'glass' glows brighter.

Bright, colored sparks shoot across the translucent panels like falling stars.

The panels

jut backwards improbably, one after another.

They extend out within the gate like telescopic lenses;

the gate's total dimensions becoming physically impossible.

Before

it all seems to collapse in on itself,

each sparking lens pulling back inward

with the sound of numerous closing doors.

Until a solid, concrete wall is all that remains where the panels had once been.

At their center

at the bottom

is a single, bright red, metal door.

It has a bar blocking it.

A dull hum buzzes in the air, now.
Sound from the powered gate.

'ENTER'.

The drone steps forward.

It removes the bar

placing it away

Then, it

Then, the other body steps inside.

A labyrinth of concrete extends before you.

Hallways,
tunnels,
and all manner of blank doorways-
painted-on spaces where doors would occasionally appear;

all of it is common.

You've seen this before.
Though, the concrete is new.

You want to make this quick.
You're very tired, still.
And an expedition is not the time to be exhausted.

You stop at the first real doorway you spot;
an average-looking, if rather heavy, wooden door with a plain, silver doorknob.

You guide the other body to turn the knob cautiously,
and peek your camera inside.

It's

a wide, dark hallway inside.

You adjust your camera.

There are many lockers along the hallway,
and various paper signs hung here and there.

You can see more doors at the back wall, which looks to be another hallway.

A school. At night.

This is startlingly specific to you.

Usually these spaces are more abstract.
Even watching through the screen, you hate looking at this place.

Make it a fast trip.
In, out.

Maybe you could just do one room.
Then you can leave.

You guide yourself to the closest classroom,
taking time to peek around the corner into the new hallway.

There's a red exit sign at the far end, where you can't see very well.
There does appear to be the school's library nearby, but one of the book carts is overturned, its books spilled out onto the floor.

You don't want to think about why it's like that.
You aren't going to.

As quietly as you can manage, you open the classroom door and walk inside, shutting and locking the door behind you.

You walk around the room, checking every nook and cranny that might house something to potentially attack you.

There's nothing in here, really.
Nothing malicious, that you can tell, anyway.

There's a tall, slim window in the corner, with a curtain pulled most of the way down.

You crouch down.

With a gentle pull, you tug it upwards and look outside.

A long, freshly-trimmed field extends out from the side of the school.
Or

maybe it isn't trimmed, on second glance.
The grass is thin, and most of it is yellow and dead, with only the occasional patch of green.
There are a few spots where the grass is gone completely, only dirt remaining.

Maybe the kids would

play sports there.

Or something.

You gaze out further, your curiosity not quite sated.

There are no other buildings, but you can see a road of cracked asphalt, and what look to be train tracks far, far ahead.
At the very back, though, to your side, you spot a dense mass of trees. A small forest, maybe. You aren't really sure.

Gazing out into them feels

horrible, somehow.
You don't want to look out the window anymore.

You pull your head back and pull the curtain all the way down to the bottom.

You want this over with.

Noticing the computer at the teacher's desk, you make your way over to it, bumping into the desk on your way.
The space is a bit tight for the other body to fit.

You manage it, leaning down to the computer.

It's plugged in, but doesn't seem to turn on.

Less work for you, at least.

Needing something to bring back with you,
you retrieve a nearby pen, a paper schedule, and a pair of scissors,
placing all of them in the small storage bag attached your front.

Easy enough.

As you turn to leave, you notice the projector plugged in at the front of the room.

Curious,
you walk your way over, peering at it.

You press the button to turn it on.

Light flashes directly into your camera,
playing

something.

You try to turn the drone quickly and scoot out of the way to see what exactly it's projecting,
but the drone is sluggish; as if it's stunned by the bright light shining into its camera.

By the time you've managed to steer it out of the way,
the projector has shut off.

You can't get it to turn on again.

You really wish you got a look at it.
You'd rather know what it was than not.

Now you're just going to be imagining it when you're trying to sleep tonight.
You've got enough nightmares as it is.

Oh well.
Time to leave.

You unlock the classroom door and take a step out into the hallway,
only to pull yourself back.

On the floor,
directly in front of the classroom you were just inside of,

is a torn scrap of paper.

You are

100% certain

it wasn't there before.

You reach down
and pick it up.

[Image: 30_03_08_25_9_03_02.png]

You

know you need to take this.

You don't want to, but it's necessary.
This is your job.

You stow it in the smallest storage bag; the one on your side.

You can't stop looking around in the nearby hallways.

Checking.

You

are leaving.
You're leaving.

You're going right now.

Done Done. Done.

Your mad dash through the school hallway and the concrete labyrinth feels much longer than it is.

You practically burst your way back through the red door,
slamming the bar back into place.
The gate is deactivated.

You nearly repeat the command again,
aiming the drone's camera at the gate,
as you watch the process from before repeat, in reverse.

It's back to its usual state soon enough,
the dull hum it emitted disappearing as it powers off.

You nearly shut off the drone control program, before remembering what you brought back.
You pull yourself back over to the far wall,
into a smaller room with windows showing the main room.

There are various tubes in here that look to be heavily-protected, and likely impossible to break.

You open one, and place the scissors, folded schedule, and the pen inside.

You

get a strange feeling

and place the paper scrap in a separate container.

With everything locked down,
you put the drone back into its charging station against the wall of the main room,
and turn off the program.

You lean back from the chair.

You're fine.

Nothing happened this time.

You're safe.

Once you feel relatively conscious again,
you check the time.

You're nearly an hour and a half early.
The sun's already setting outside.

Doesn't matter.

You need a break, anyway.

You don't bother marking the task as complete yet,
and instead stand up from the desk.

A beep from the computer leads you to check it again.

There's already a mark on the footage, even though it's still processing.

Something from when you had the drone look out the classroom window, looks like.

Nope.
Not thinking about that.

Not right now.

You minimize the program and walk away from your desk.

You waste no time shoving the VHS into the slot on the TV,
flopping on the couch afterwards.

You likely wouldn't be able to finish the movie,
but you needed a break.

It starts playing.

You recognize this one from when you checked the movies before.

An older, black-and-white horror movie.
Something about some people breaking into a house.
A woman home alone. Intruders in the dark. That kind of thing.

You don't think a horror movie is the best thing for you right now.

But, you're too exhausted to get up and change it right now.

Besides, it's an old movie.
You aren't that worried about it.

You settle in against the couch,
giving the idle glance to the plush on the armrest.

The title card is

neat.

You

forget why.

You're having trouble keeping your eyes open.

The

protagonist is

talking with

some

somebody

her neighbor.

The

music is

BEEP.

You blink awake.

The TV is just a black screen that says 'TAPE END'.

It takes you a moment to process what you'd heard.

The computer made a noise.

You force yourself to your feet,
rubbing your eyes as you make your way over.

Oh.
There's another mark.

A new one.

You tab into that program.

It

isn't from the expedition footage.

It's a mark from the gate security camera.

Wait, and

and marks on some of the outdoor cameras.

A loud CLINK from below you widens your eyes.

The door to the stairwell has just opened.
Your heartbeat's speeding up.

You hear footsteps beyond the nearby door.
Coming up the stairs.

What d

You need to

You hurry as quietly as you can,
practically diving behind the couch,
slamming your shoulder in the process.

You wince.

The door opens.

Whatever

has stepped in

shouldn't be able to see you

behind here.

The TV is buzzing just loud enough to cover up your breathing, too.

Hopefully they don't check over here.

The intruder stands in the doorway for a few moments.

Then,
they make their way over towards the computer, of all places.

Their footsteps are heavy.

You can hear the mouse clicking.

You have no time to dwell on any of this.

NO ONE should be out here.
And, with the mark on the gate security camera?
They probably came OUT of there.

You have

just enough time

to figure out a plan.

You could try to sneak out of the room, but there's no way they wouldn't hear you opening the door at least.
Once you did, you could just run.

There are

three places you know of that you could try to go.

If you made it outside, you could either run for the delivery bay and activate the drone to... maybe defend you?
Or, you could head for the bunker on-site.
Either way, you'd be betting on how fast you could run.

You could, instead, book it for the bedroom.
There's a large pipe wrench you've kept next to your bed.
You don't exactly know how to fight, but it's heavy, and easy to swing.
You could cause some damage, and they may not have a weapon.

You could also try to just
hide here.
That's what your instincts are telling you to do.

But if at ANY point they decide to check around the room a little more, they would find you.
And on the floor, without a weapon,
you don't really like your chances.

There could even be other things to try, instead.
Maybe you'd have better ideas,
but you do NOT have time to Think.

You're not even sure you can make a decision.

You're trying very hard just to stop shaking.

You make a decision.

Posted by knux400 - 07-31-2025, 10:03 PM

A fidget toy, something to do with your hands during downtimes. Something small you could keep in your pocket and reach for whenever you get bored or nervous.

Posted by skinstealer - 07-31-2025, 08:58 PM

something with a texture that calms you- you couldnt get what youd want as a first choice, but you hoped this would at least fill a small void.

Posted by palencorgi - 07-31-2025, 07:41 PM

Something re-usable & comforting. Maybe something like a portable radio or device with headphones, to listen to music or books on.

Posted by SHIVERS - 07-31-2025, 07:19 PM

Your hand grabs a case, and you open your eyes.

The game you're holding is called 7KNIVES.

It's got a pair of white eyes behind the title, a long dagger in place of the 'I',
and a nondistinct claw in the background, with a dotted circular line around it.

Checking the back, it's apparently a horror action RPG,
but otherwise none of the info is particularly helpful.

You've never seen this game before in your life.

You find this odd, considering you did a cursory glance over all the game cases on one of the first days you got here.
They aren't exactly well organized, though.
It makes sense one might've escaped your notice before.

You take it out, pop it into the game console, and turn it on.
Controller in hand, you plop yourself on the couch, watching the time using the clock on the wall just in case.

The game boots up.

On the title screen, the claw silhouette reaches forward,
only to stop as the title crawls in above it, the dagger rising up from the claw.

▶ Main Theme
King's Field IV

You check through the options first out of habit, but find almost nothing to adjust.
You do turn the volume down a little bit, though.

You find yourself feeling both self-conscious and cautious about having the game up too loud.
You know there's nothing around for miles,
but

some instinctive part of yourself doesn't want to attract attention.

As you start playing, you soon find yourself sucked in.

▶ Arise Within You
Parasite Eve

Not too far into the game, you're already finding yourself stuck; repeating some fights many, many times.
The movement and rhythm of combat is addicting enough to keep you coming back,
but you already feel out of your depth and you've only made it to the second area.
The saves being relatively far apart isn't helping.

But, you've got nothing else to do, and you're genuinely enjoying your time so far.
They nailed the atmosphere.
An old gloomy castle gave way to an eerily-empty space station,
the game apparently taking place across disparate time periods and settings;
though, somehow the protagonist never seemed to change.

You're very curious to see where the story ends up.

But, with a quick glance at the clock, you realize your two hours is nearly up.
You hurry back to the last save point, worrying you may have forgotten to use it.
You hadn't, but you can never be too careful.

You shut off the game and stand up, finding your wrists a little bit sore.

You could probably stand to be more careful next time.

You step back over to the computer and click the task box, the green check mark appears.

10:00 AM - 10:15 AM: BREAK

Right. You have those.

Considering you just spent the last two hours playing video games,
you aren't exactly sure what would constitute a break right now.

You could use a shower, you think.
You last took one

Friday evening, you think.

You had been taking them every day.

The last few days are a blur.

You don't think about it.

You rummage through the drawers in your bedroom.

You're running out of clean clothes.
Laundry tonight, then.

The sun is finally coming up, you notice through the frosted glass of the tiny bedroom window.

In the shower, you try to keep your mind busy.

It's been too easy lately to lose time when not doing anything.
You used to talk with your friends while in the shower.

It's a weird habit you picked up as a kid.
You were always afraid to take a shower without talking to someone through the bathroom door.

You definitely don't need to do it, but
it always helped to pass the time.
And, if you were particularly worried about something, it

And really, it

And it ,

nything to not think about later today.

It always comes up faster than you want it to.
At least you could use the drone this time.

You turn off the water.

You grab the towel, running it ov

n check mark.
Just in time, too.
Your shower must've run a little long.

10:15 AM - 11:15 AM: UNLOAD/CHECK: DELIVERY BAY

Oh.
It's Monday. That's right.

You don't even particularly remember what you ordered.

You suppose you'll find out.

You make your way back to the work room, through the side door,
into the entryway.

There, you've hung your-

Well, you've mostly just tossed your snow boots, padded jacket and pants onto the floor.

You make relatively quick work of slipping on your snow clothes,
once again finding the extra layers cumbersome.

With that done, you unbolt the entrance door, and step into the stairwell.

You make your way down to the first floor, glancing briefly at where the stairway leads even further down.

You haven't even looked at the underground tunnels yet.
A small network spanning the various buildings in the area.
You could only guess at what they were previously built for,
though their only use to You would be as passage around the area without needing to brave the outside.

Luckily, you've never needed to use them.
You hope you never have to.

You're done staring, though.
Not helping your nerves at all.

You step through the exit door into the concrete area just under the base.
You still think it looks kind of like a parking garage, what with the metal walls with many holes at the sides, and the numerous support beams.

Knowing where you need to go, you pick the north door and walk out into the snow.

The wind hits you, and you swear that it scalds your cheek.
There have only been a day or two that you can remember where it wasn't windy out here.
You can't stand it.

You bundle up into your hood and begin trudging northwest.

Still, something about this weather...

You're very certain it should be even colder than it is.
You remember the brief walk you made from the you made your way here in, to the inside of this area.

There must be some kind of temperature control keeping it from getting cold to the point of uninhabitability.
You've never seen any sort of devices around for this purpose, other than those that kept your station and the other buildings relatively warm.

You wonder if the large concrete walls around the area are truly helping that significantly.
No, probably not.

It must be something under the ground, you conclude.
Though, you don't have a clue how that would help the ambient temperature in the air.

You're no less puzzled by this when you reach your destination.

The delivery bay isn't all that far away at all, but the wind and snow make it feel like a proper hike.

You reach the building and force the door open.
The doors here so often got stuck, you'd gotten very used to bracing them with your shoulder just to get them open.

As you step inside, you quickly pass one of the drones at the side wall.

It's bipedal, with heavy-looking legs and powerful claws.
It sports a long, cylindrical head with a camera lens at its center, and a boxy torso.

There were three of these total throughout the area,
each one with differences in their physical construction, functions, and consequently, what areas they had access to.

All three were grey, but with their own colored patterns to identify them.
This one has a worn, yellow pattern of stripes, and what look to be little scribbles on its side,
though they're far too worn away to see properly.
It looks like it's seen the most use out of all three.

This one has the most access, with free reign of all outside areas, as well as every building apart from the station and the gate.
The one at the station has a wavy green pattern, and can't leave the station itself,
while the one at the gate has a pattern of purple triangles and could only be used within the gate and during expeditions.

Of the three, this one in front of you has the bulkiest frame,
with the station one being the lightest,
while the one at the gate seemed to be built for a mix of speed, dexterity, and sturdiness.

This is more than you've ever really thought about them, though.

You never use them.
They're creepy. Standing silently in their little corners.
They're like mannequins; artificial, corpse-like things that feel like they possess the capability of movement,
but simply choose not to do so.

These are
maybe a little bit better than mannequins.
By a smidge.
Not that it makes a difference.

You have no reason to use them.

They apparently have microphones in them somewhere that would respond to simple voice commands,
but you've only ever piloted them remotely via the station computer, and mostly just for expeditions.

You've actually never taken this one out of its wall charging station at all.

You realize you've been staring at this one's non-face this entire time.
You brush at your arms to shake away that awful, restless feeling; like bugs are crawling over you.

Ugh.
You resolve to finish up here quickly.

You step properly into the room, and find your delivery boxes; still attached with the guide wire.
You detach the super thick metal wire and hit the button on the wall to reset it,
watching as all the slack gradually leaves it.

With that done, you get to work opening all the boxes, sorting out your various bags of supplies.

You never use all that much during the week, though the medical supplies are a notably new restock, after y

esh vegatables. You know they'll likely just go bad in the fridge before you use them all, but you're getting sick of your usua

With the groceries all sorted and ready, you open the final box; the one labeled 'PERSONAL ITEM'.
You're allowed to order one personal item at the end of every week;
something not related to food or other supplies at all.

The selection was always limited, but it was nice just to have a treat for yourself,
or to replace something you'd forgotten to bring out here,
or just to order some sort of new activity yourself.

The box is only about as long as your arm, and you'd seen them put much smaller things in bigger boxes before,
so, you likely didn't go too overboard.

You at least hope it isn't anything too heavy, considering the other stuff you've got to carry.

Truth be told, you don't have a clue what you ordered for this.

You remember what you ordered.

Posted by MarxzVulpez - 07-30-2025, 06:41 AM

How about that one with the really fun movement and the really good lighting and color

Posted by Ignispark - 07-29-2025, 07:58 PM

Something tragic or melancholic. And hopefully, not full of snow.

Posted by knux400 - 07-28-2025, 10:15 PM

Something frustrating, but not too frustrating. A good challenge that'll last a long time and be satisfying to complete.

Bonus points if it's an older title with the low-poly graphics and textures you can see the pixels in

Posted by palencorgi - 07-28-2025, 07:40 PM

(I forgot to sign in. that was me)

Posted by - 07-28-2025, 07:40 PM

Reach for:

SEVEN KNIVES
Horror-rpg. A pair of white eyes stares at you from the boxart, a silhouette behind the title, stabbing a dagger between the words.

Obscure, but with dedicated fans. The best way to describe it is... ominous.

Posted by SHIVERS - 07-28-2025, 07:22 PM

You've been here two weeks.

It's Monday.

And it's too early to get up yet.

You've become very acquainted with the cracked blue paint on the ceiling of your new bedroom.
It has entirely splayed out at points, with several peels curling far enough outward to curl in on themselves.

You wonder what makes it do that.

You keep thinking a piece will crack off and fall onto your new bed as you sleep.
But, it hasn't happened yet.

You wonder what would possess someone to paint the room blue in a place this cold.

Maybe blue was somehow mandated.
Maybe someone wanted to paint the room, and blue was the only color they had available.
Maybe someone just really loved blue.

You'd heard that this site had been first built by some military or another.

But who the hell would even find something to guard, this far into the middle of nowhere?

There was something here now.
But they'd built it.
Or at least, moved it here.

Maybe this frozen hellscape had once not been frozen.

Maybe, somehow, this had been a naval outpost.
Or something.

Maybe they were just fools,
building this horrible place.

And maybe the people who decided to use it again -
the ones who painted your ceiling blue, whoever they were -
were also fools.

Maybe your employers are fools,
for taking this place and setting it up again.

Maybe you are,
for ever studying any of what landed you here in the first place.

Two weeks into the first job-
Two weeks into the first hands-on job in your field.
Two weeks into what should've been your career,

and you're cracking.

You read somewhere once
that without stimulation, the brain could end up hallucinating.
You can't stop thinking about that.

It's repeated so much in your head, now, that you swear the thought has its own voice.

You can't stop thinking about

You'd been so enthusiastic.

oh sure, im used to being alone
Fool.

my biggest problem will probably just be fighting boredom hahaha
-Dumbass

the pay is so good too itll be worth it = dipshit.

If you could do it all over again

If you were less incompetent

God, if only you could

If you could

Please

I know it's my fault but i dont wanttoSTAYanymore

please

could someone hear me

if i thought about it

hard enough ?

Interesting breakdown.

Not the worst, not the best.
Less bad than the last one, at least.

4/10 Short but sweet.

OK.

You should get out of bed.

'Let's get up, please,' you tell yourself in your head.

You say it again when no muscles move; without the 'please' this time.

You turn your head and look at the clock.

It's about that time, anyway.

You reach to stop the alarm clock before it goes off,
only to realize you hadn't turned it back on after your weekend.

You're not surprised.

You aren't sure you slept at all.

You haven't been sleeping well.

You drag yourself out of bed, not bothering to put on anything other than the pajamas you were already wearing.

With that,
you leave your bedroom and make your way into the work room.

You can tell by the thin horizontal window at the side of the room that it's still dark outside.

It won't be light again for another few hours.
You wish you'd gotten used to this already.
It still made you feel uneasy.

You take a moment and stare out into the dark grey expanse of snow.

You hated looking outside;
you'd already found out the hard way that the longer you stared outside, the more your brain would assure that you were about to see something there.

But, you felt compelled to look outside at least once per morning.

A little ritual of yours. A survey to make sure everything at least looks fine.

Just as every day: There's nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing much in general.
The usual couple of buildings that happened to be in view of the window, the usual scarce handful of lights and lightposts that dotted the area outside.

Nothing else.

With that out of the way, you let yourself have a quick stretch,
then step over to one of the several drawers in the corner, and pull it open.

You sift between the many binders inside, grab one,

and unzip it.

Your hand thumbs through the various plastic pages lined with discs,
searching.

You pull out a random one you're sure you haven't tried yet.

You make your way to the table in the corner,
and pop the CD into the little boom box.

▶ Diving Woman
Japanese Breakfast

As you let the music play, you finally turn on the PC at the center desk,
watching as its three monitors light up.

As you do, your schedule is the first thing to pop up.

8:00 AM: ANALYZE MARKS

Turning your eye and cursor to the other monitor,
you glance at the recent files;
the footage you took personally on Friday, and the many hours of security camera footage from the last two or three days.

No marks on any of it today.
Unsurprising.

You click the task box, adding a green check mark to the end.

The next task pops up automatically.

8:00 AM - 10:00AM: ANALYZE FOOTAGE

Why?

What footage was there to analyze, exactly?

The tiny bit that was intact from the last expedition?
There's nothing to see.
And you already gave your report, if you could even call it that.

Random camera footage from around the station, then?
For two hours?
There isn't enough cash in the world for that.

So, two free hours, then.

That's almost worse.

You can manage it, though.

You don't really feel in the mood for a movie right now;
you need something to help wake you up.

With a quick walk back to the drawers,
you open a different one and rifle through it,

trying to wait until one of the video game cases looked interesting.

Nothing in particular grabs your attention.

Instead, you pull out a random assortment of cases without looking at them,
and gently drop them onto the couch.

You close your eyes

and let your hand drift towards one.

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