It's All Good! (Game Topic)

Desmond: Head inside Town Hall. See if I can locate some sort of town map for tourists. If anyone looks at me suspiciously, go to the bathroom and hide out in one of the stalls.

Lewis: "Uh, try not to perpetuate rumors like that, hm? Kids will say anything to get attention. Oh, 'perpetuate' means... when you keep something going."

Pat Lionel gently on the arm.

"Since it is a pretty nasty day out here, I guess we'll be stuck inside. We can find something to do."

Spoiler:

Jacques: "Huh."

Throw your camera's sling over your shoulder and tighten it up, afterwards slip on your jacket. It's going to get windy, especially at this altitude. Note the structures nearby, of what seems to be an information centre, and bolted down binocular sets for viewing the landscape.

Begin snapping the occasional photo of the oncoming storm's funnel cloud.

Jim Daniels: "Well gee that winds picked up quite a bit. Let's see if the televisions got anything to say about it."

Turns on television to channel 7, the Oregon News Network (ONN.)

Augustine Larson:

"Larson, throw me a stanag! I'm running out!" said one of his subordinates, "I see at least five targets in the upper floor of that tan building!"

"Jackson!" I called to our grenadier, "Put a 40mm in that window, second from the left!"

Jackson pulled his M79 grenade launcher from his back and fired, the window exploding and expelling charlies from the building. Beside Larson, one of his comrades took a round center mass from behind cover and slumped over, killed on impact. Larson moved to suppress the enemy and threw a magazine to his comrade, before reloading himself. Moving against another piece of cover, he peeked around the corner as best he could and saw a T54 rolling up, about to aim the 100mm gun at the squad.

Larson awakened, stunned, dazed, it was just another dream...another dream about Hue. May sat vigil looking at Larson, his loyal servant to the end.

"I think you may be the only one who understands me, May,"

May barked happily to that and layed down next to him. What a great dog.

Christian:

Shrug. Guess that conversation wasn't going anywhere.

See what's on TV.

Jacques Crecateu (ApocalyspeWolf) - Photojournalist


Jacques brings the phone up to his ear, taking caution not to accidentally hang up again.

Receptionist: "Hello, you've reached Mr. Dillinger's office, how may I help you?"

It's the same woman from earlier. She must be a secretary to this "Mr. Dillinger".

"It's Mr. Crecateu, I accidentally hung up on you earlier, sorry."

"Oh, Mr. Crecateu, Mr. Dillinger is out of office at the moment, but he insisted that you two meet up. His schedule is open tomorrow from 11:45 - 1:30, do you wish to set up a meeting?"

"I'd first like to know who this Mr. Dillinger is, and what he wants."

The cab driver seems to be approaching the 126 turn-off.

"Haratio Dillinger is an esteemed real estate agent, the purpose of the call was to contact you and propose a meeting so you two can discuss photography together, Mr. Dillinger seems to be fond of your camera work. And has the intention of hiring you for a temporary photographic position."

"Well, you can tell Mr. Dillinger I'll be at the Bella Bean Espresso, 396 Combs Flat Road, tomorrow at 11:50am."

"Coincidental choice, Mr. Crecateu. Bella Dillinger, Mr. Dillinger's daughter is the CEO of Bella Bean Espresso, and resides here in Prineville."

"Just make sure he shows up. I'll be inside sitting down at the table right-side closest to the entrance. If anything is altered, just call me on this cell."

"Of course, I will notify him. Mr. Crecateu, will that be all?"

"Yes, goodbye."

[End Call]

[Recent Call>Unknown Caller>Edit Name>Mr. Dillinger]

[Recent Call>Mr. Dillinger>Add Contact]

As the cab approaches the Park's overview area, Jacques places his phone in his right pocket and awkwardly grabs for his wallet.

"How much will that be?"

Cab Driver: "Nineteen dollars sir."

A phone line for the cab and a sticker that reads “Call me, We’re open 24/7” is located on the back of the seat.

"Thanks for the ride, keep the change."

Jacques replaces his wallet into his back pocket. He exits the cab, walks over to a park bench.

A medium sized digital camera is removed from it’s case. Jacques snaps a few pictures of the oncoming storm.

The rain starts picking up. What was before considered a light rain is now more of a downpour. Jacques looks around for some shelter from the rain, but nothing seems to be around. Just then, he hears a siren.

What now?

Augustine Larson (Jagdgeschwader) - Retired Veteran


"Larson, throw me a stanag! I'm running out!" said one of his subordinates, "I see at least five targets in the upper floor of that tan building!"

"Jackson!" Augustine called to his grenadier, "Put a 40mm in that window, second from the left!"

Jackson pulls his M79 grenade launcher from his back and fired, the window exploding and expelling charlies from the building. Beside Larson, one of his comrades takes a round center mass from behind cover and slumps over, killed on impact. Larson moves to suppress the enemy and threw a magazine to his comrade, before reloading himself. Moving against another piece of cover, he peeks around the corner as best he could and saw a T54 rolling up, about to aim the 100mm gun at the squad.

Larson awakened, stunned, dazed, it was just another dream...another dream about Hue. May sat vigil looking at Larson, his loyal servant to the end.

"I think you may be the only one who understands me, May,"

May barked happily to that and layed down next to him. What a great dog.

**CRASH BOOM**

A flash of light immediately followed by roaring thunder shakes the house. It’s storming, heavily. May’s tail goes between her legs and she hides behind Augustine’s chair. He looks out the window. Lightning and thunder are everywhere, it’s dark, and he picks out what looks like the formation of a fairly large funnel cloud.

Jacques: Try to pinpoint a location of the sirens, see what's going on. Y'know, other than the storm.

Return your camera to it's case, and take out your cellphone.

[Call>(541) 550-8055]

Answering machine: "Hello, you've reached Destination Transportation, our services are not available due to unfortunate circumstances, please try again later."

[End Call]

"Typical."

Place your cellphone back in your pocket, and take out your camera case once again. Snap more pictures of the oncoming storm, then return the camera to it's case. Make your way down the road back to the 126 Highway, and begin walking back to Prineville. Attempting to hail any passer-bys to hitch a ride back to town. Taking caution of any potential hydroplaning vehicles.

"Hmph," said Larson to himself, "Get out from the chair May, we've lived here long enough to know these things don't touch the ground often, and when they do they're just weak storms."

Larson sat back in his chair, "People overreact to these things, acting like we live in the Midwest or something,"

Samantha Hightower (Nickisanenigma) - Preschool Art Teacher

"I think she's just worried about the storm is all. Said she had a nightmare about it. I'd get that little girl home and indoors soon. Children tend to maximize minimal problems when they're anxious or upset, get fixated."

Samantha notices the mother roll her eyes. Not all parents are so willing to take advice regarding their own children. Sam glances at the windows. It is getting bad. Thunder and lightning become strike more frequently. Though it is only just past noon, the sky is dark as night.

Mr. Winthrope says, “Well, thanks Mrs. Hightower. We’ll get her home, she’ll be okay.”

"Y’know, iff someone as unflappable as Maizie here is worried, maybe she's got a point, huh?"

“Yeah, maybe.”

The two adults chuckle nervously. It’s hard to not be moved by the torrential rainfall. For a moment, they stand in silence. The Winthropes start to guide their daughter outside when the sound of a tornado siren breaks whatever calm was left in the room. Mrs. Nesbitt is the first to act.

“Alright, everyone! Bring your children in, come on, and we’ll try to get everyone into the faculty restroom. It’s the safest place in the building.”

Some of the children are crying, and Maizie is absolutely bawling.

As the parents begin ushering their children into the designated bathroom, Mrs. Nesbitt intercepts Samantha and asks, “What do you want to do? The fire station may just be overreacting. You know how Mike and Charlie are.”

The wind howls.


Charles McCarthy (FoundDa Kiwi) - FireFighter

"Son of a..." He reaches for the radio and calls Chief Mike. "Chief this is Charlie, we've got what looks to be a funnel cloud forming to the north of the town, get the sirens going. This one looks nasty."

The tornado sirens start to wail.

“Alright, Charlie. If you really think it’ll be that bad, maybe you and the boys ought to get back here.”

Hail starts to fall and smash against the windshield. Charles is always afraid that the windshield’ll crack, but he knows that the hail is no larger than a pebble.

“Hey, Charlie!” John yells at him from the driver seat, slowing the truck down.

“What is it? Jesus, John, this isn’t the time to stop the truck!”

“There’s a guy there! We’re way away from anything, I think we should pick him up.”


Desmond “Des” Warren (Desert Sleepy) - Unemployed

Desmond heads into the town hall. A town map is located at the front desk, which is strangely unoccupied. Des isn’t quite sure why he wants one because he’s lived in town for quite awhile, but he pockets a map anyway.

“Oh, Des! Hey.”

The front receptionist, Cathy, greets Desmond warmly. She always was nice to him. Town rumor tells that she isn’t quite as nice or reserved when she’s drunk, as was evident to Des during the last party they both attended. He isn’t quite sure if she remembers.

“Hey, Cathy. Bad storm, huh?”

“The worst. You might want to stay here. I think it’s go-”

The tornado sirens cut her off. She’s visibly shaking. Wordlessly, she motions for Des to follow as she heads away from her desk, presumably to a shelter.

Spoiler:

Lewis Beck (Flasktoss) - High School Student

"Uh, try not to perpetuate rumors like that, hm? Kids will say anything to get attention. Oh, 'perpetuate' means... when you keep something going."

He gently pats his brother on the arm, who had obviously stopped listening ages ago. Lionel’s attention is directed towards the rain covering the street outside.

“Since it is a pretty nasty day out here, I guess we'll be stuck inside. We can find something to do."

Lionel nods. In the front seat, Mrs. Beck is talking softly to her husband. ‘Worst storm all Summer I hear. That school shouldn’t have even let the kids go to school. What are they thinking”

“I don’t know, dear.”

“There may even be a twister! You never kn-”

Lionel cuts off her mom. “No, it’ll be okay. I had a dream about it storming last night and it stopped before it got bad or anyone got hurt. I think we’ll be fine!”

As Mr. Beck pulls into the driveway, the tornado sirens begin to wail. The father speaks to his family in a commanding voice, “Everyone inside and in the basement. No questions. Go.”

“But, Dad! It’ll be okay!”

“Now, Lionel.” The family moves inside and down the basement together.

Before the father closes the door to the basement, he hears the frightening sound of large hail striking his windows.


Christian Markov (Eaglendia) - Freelance Writer, Game Designer
Jim Daniels (DeadApe) - Bartender

"Well gee that winds picked up quite a bit. Let's see if the televisions got anything to say about it."

Jim turns on the old TV. For a moment, the two can only view static before the bartender smacks it with his hand. The picture clears up almost immediately. A slightly overweight anchor appears on screen, his brow wet with sweat.

“-awful storm, and that’s not even the worst of it! You wouldn’t believe the reports we’re getting!” He chuckles nervously. “If the reports are to be believed, you should watch for tornados and-”

The picture fuzzes out again. Frustrated, Jim punches it to no avail. The tornado sirens begin to wail, hail strikes against the windows.

They both know, somehow, that the picture won't be coming back.

Lewis: Look around and survey the basement.

"Is there a radio down here, dad?"

Desmond: Follow Cathy.

Jim Daniels: "Goddamn kid, this is serious. How far away is your house from here?"

Jim doesn't need to look out the window to know how horrible it is outside, for the building is shaking and one can hear a roar of air, and the sound of shingles being ripped off of rooftops.

"No, thats crazy, you've got to stay here. We can wait the storm out in the basement where we put the kegs."

Samantha Hightower:

Parents lead groups of frightened children around them and toward the teacher's lounge. Sobbing kids are weaving around her knees like tiny waves. "I-I don't know, Marty's at home, I don't want him worrying where I am- but I can't just leave, it's too dangerous."

"Well call him for god sake. Last time I checked my cell still had bars, but hurry, reception never lasts long after the sirens start."

Sam nods and walks away from the crowd and to her station. She fishes her cell phone out of her jacket, still hanging on the back of her chair. Her wallpaper is a picture of her and Marty on the bayou trip they took in New Orleans. He holds a small alligator, mouth duck-taped to prevent it from biting, while she keeps a generous distance from the creature regardless. Overshadowing the picture is a [3 MISSED CALLS] notification. Sighing to herself, Sam quickly dials.

"-am? Sam where are you?"

"Marty?"

"Sam can you h-" The call drops. She checks the screen. Barely any bars. Sam hurriedly scans the room. She should get more reception over by the plate glass windows in the art section. She makes purposeful strides through the play area, over building blocks and forgotten dolls, the usual clack of her heels lost in the soft surface of the carpeting. She redials.

"Samantha?"

"Marty, I'm here, I can hear you. Sorry, the call cut you off, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm at the house, Sam where are you I've been calling for the past 5 minutes when the warnings went off."

"I got stuck at the school getting the kids out. We're all taking shelter now."

"Oh thank god..." He trails off on the other end. Samantha eyes Maizie's painting, still on the desk where she left it. The somber sky still looming over stick people. She sits down in one of the tiny chairs, knees bent up to her chest. Marty keeps going. "This is pretty big huh?" He sounds scared.

"I know, I know hun, I'm sorry I can't be there, I tried to rush it as fast as-"

"No, no, it's okay, stay where you are. Don't drive, christ, you could get swept off the road and into a ditch."

Sam frowned to herself. While she herself had always enjoyed their stormy evenings in, the simpler truth was that Marty had a phobia of the dark. He didn't like to be alone when there was a chance of power outages.

"I'll be home as soon as I can."

"Okay, okay that's good. I mean I love Oregon and everything but the weather I mean..." He paused, silence. "Sorry, sorry, the lights flickered there for a second, thought there would be a blackout."

"Get the storm kit and hole up in the basement okay? I just replaced the batteries on lantern, so you'll be okay. Bring the cat with you too, I don't want him clawing up the furniture alone up there."

"O... will I just nee..." The call cuts in and out, staticy. Sam gets up from the chair and walks over to the window, hoping for a clearer signal. Outside the sky rages over the playground. One of the tire swings has come detached from its chains and lies pitifully on the wood chips. "Marty are you there?"

"-all's gonna cut out soon. Everything's going to be alright, right?" She nods to herself. "It will be, I promise. I love you."

"I love," is all he gets out before the call drops. [NO SIGNAL] beams the icon above the menu. Sam rubs her eyes and looks out the full length window. As dangerous as it all seems, how tattered the circumstances or dark the night, Samantha enjoys the beauty of storms, especially this one, the way just up at the top of the sky you could still see just a little tinge of green. She touches her fingertips softly against the glass.

At that exact moment a large impacted ball of hail strikes the window. She gasps to herself and stands back, the new crack in the window obscuring the view outside. Sam turns on her heels and heads for the teacher's lounge, the breeze off her dress softly knocking the storm drawing to the carpet.

Go to the bathroom with the others.

Charles: "Dammit. Alright John, pick him up. But do it quickly!" When John stops, swing open one of the passenger doors and yell to the man; "Get in, the twisters coming this way!" as soon as he's in yell to John "Now step on it!"

Lewis Beck (Flasktoss) - High School Student

“Is there a radio around here, Dad?”

Leonard almost doesn’t hear his son over the sound of his own thoughts. He’s a prepared man. Several months ago, he stocked the basement with provisions to last a nuclear war; an entire wall was full of canned goods and even more foodstuff was in the back room. “Oh, sure son. Good idea.” He walks into the backroom and pulls out an old radio and tosses it to Lewis. “Try to get that working while I try to figure how much food we have down here.”

The mother of the Beck family chimes in. “Leonard, it’s a storm, not Y2K. I think we’ll be okay.”

“You can never be too careful, Leah.”

As the parents continue with their nonsensical back and forth, Lewis examines the radio. He tries to turn it on to no avail. Taking off the back, he notices it has no batteries and produces some from the back room. With swift hands, Lewis pops in two batteries, closes the back, and turns the radio on in almost one motion. The radio crackles to life.

“...-ORNADO WARNING in most of th-...-OOK COUNTY..”

Straining to hear over the nigh-deafening sound of the wind and the static of the radio, Lewis thinks he hears that a tornado has touched down just outside Prineville.


Desmond “Des” Warren (DesertSleepy) - Unemployed

“Y’know I never liked storms, right?”

Desmond actually didn’t know that, but he nods anyway. He follows Cathy into the storm shelter where other various members of the government, including the Mayor, have crowded.

“Always been afraid of them, yeah. Ever since I was a little girl. Saw a tornado touch down not twenty minutes from my house, once. Terrifying thing. My brother, he told me...”

She prattles on and on while Des loses focus. Always the gentleman, he makes sure to nod and “uh-huh” at the right times and lets the lady talk. He hears the Mayor talking to an advisor in the corner.

“What do you think of the storm, James?”

“Well, according to the radio, Mayor, they think a tornado might form.”

“Heading for the town?”

“Not sure, sir. I’m no weatherman.”

“Damn straight you aren’t. Alright. Anything we can do?”

The advisor rolls his eyes. “No, sir.”

Suddenly, Desmond realizes Cathy had stopped talking. “Are you okay, Des? Do storms scare you, too?”


Christian Markov (Eaglendia) - Freelance Writer, Game Designer
Jim Daniels (DeadApe) - Bartender

Jim doesn't need to look out the window to know how horrible it is outside, for the building is shaking and one can hear a roar of air, and the sound of shingles being ripped off of rooftops. Maybe the city wasn’t that bad, Jim thinks as he looks out the window to a world that’s black as night.

"Goddamn kid, this is serious. How far away is your house from here?"

Christian starts to answer, but Jim slams his hand on the table and interrupts him.

"No, that’s crazy, you've got to stay here. We can wait the storm out in the basement where we put the kegs."

Jim walks away from the counter and opens a door in the corner with a key. He starts to descend the stairs before realizing that Christian isn’t following. “Look, kid, you’re coming with me. Unless you think you can brave that storm?”

Large pieces of hail smack against the window, threatening to break it at any second. Christian looks to the window then back at the barkeep and reluctantly, wordlessly follows down into the cellar.

“Tornado knocks the roof down, at least we’ve got enough booze to last a lifetime!” Jim laughs and Christian chuckles. The cellar is dimly lit and full of various kegs of alcohol. Despite being the cellar of a bar, the place is relatively well kept; the floor is clean, having been swept recently, and the countertops are noticeably free of dust.

The lights flicker and go out. Jim lights a candle. The two sit at a table across from each other with a candle illuminating a small radius around them.


Samantha Hightower (Nickisanenigma) - Preschool Art Teacher

Parents lead groups of frightened children around them and toward the teacher's lounge. Sobbing kids are weaving around her knees like tiny waves. "I-I don't know, Marty's at home, I don't want him worrying where I am- but I can't just leave, it's too dangerous."

"Well, if I were you I’d just call him for god’s sake. Last time I checked my cell still had bars, but hurry, reception never lasts long after the sirens start."

Sam nods and walks away from the crowd and to her station. She fishes her cell phone out of her jacket, still hanging on the back of her chair. Her wallpaper is a picture of her and Marty on the bayou trip they took in New Orleans. He holds a small alligator, mouth duck-taped to prevent it from biting, while she keeps a generous distance from the creature regardless. Overshadowing the picture is a [3 MISSED CALLS] notification. Sighing to herself, Sam quickly dials.

"-am? Sam, you’re still at the school, right?”

"Marty?"

"Sam can you h-" The call drops. She checks the screen. Barely any bars. Sam hurriedly scans the room. She should get more reception over by the plate glass windows in the art section. She makes purposeful strides through the play area, over building blocks and forgotten dolls, the usual clack of her heels lost in the soft surface of the carpeting. She considers redialing, but the storm’s picked up in intensity. She instantly whips out a text message: “Marty, I’m still at the school, I am okay, I love you, see you when it’s over.”

She makes sure the message sends and pockets her phone. A large impacted ball of hail strikes the window. She gasps to herself and stands back, the new crack in the window obscuring the view outside. Sam turns on her heels and heads for the teacher's lounge, the breeze off her dress softly knocking the storm drawing to the carpet. She heads to the bathroom with the other children. Most the children are frightful and in tears while most of the parents also look worried. The power in the school goes out. Samantha was expecting this; the power almost always goes out during an exceptionally bad storm.


Charles McCarthy (FoundDa Kiwi) - FireFighter
Jacques Crecateu (ApocalyspeWolf) - Photojournalist

"Dammit. Alright John, pick him up. But do it quickly!"

John pulls up beside Jacques and Charles throws the door open and roughly grabs the man and pulls him in the truck. “The twisters are coming!” Charles yells to the driver, “Now step on it!”

Charles thinks he hears Jacques mutter a word of thanks, but doesn’t respond. His eyes are trained on the road, watching for anyone else that may need help. One of the other firefighters yells, “Boss, this is a real one, over there!” He points to the funnel cloud. The cloud has a doughnut shape and is slowly descending to the ground and gradually thinning. My god, this thing is going to be massive Charles thinks.

The fire truck suddenly swerves as John loses control. “Fuck! Fuck!” The driver fights a losing battle against the locked up steering wheel as the truck slides into a tree on the side of the road. The windows of the truck are shattered, the front bent and crumpled at an awkward angle. Jacques groans about his arm. This tornado’s only a few miles away, Charles thinks. A panic descends onto the group. John yells frantically, “Boss, I can’t start it! Oh Jesus. Oh Christ.”

Charles can’t hardly hear his friend over the sound of the tornado, a roaring train.

Desmond: "Well, I wouldn't say they scare me. They make me kind of nervous I suppose, but they've never really bothered me much. I have to admit though, the frightened atmosphere here is a little bit... contagious."

"Say, what was it your brother told you? My hearing's not the best, particularly not with all this noise as of late."

Samantha:

Oh christ. Perfect.

Pull out your cellphone and use it to light the area.

"Okay, okay everyone calm down! Parents, let's get our phones out, keep this place lit?"

Try to find Nesbitt. "We don't have like any candles or anything do we? In our emergency kit or something?"

Charles: Look out of the truck and start looking for a ditch or a patch of low level ground. Spot a fairly well sized ditch about 50 feet from the road.

"ALRIGHT EVERYONE OUT! GET INTO THAT DITCH!"

Charles and the others get out of the truck and sprint to the ditch and jump in, laying flat on their stomachs with their hands on their heads.

"Now everyone stay low!"

He reaches for his radio again calling chief Mike, "Chief it's Charlie, there's another one. Repeat, another twister has touched down. We don't know if there's anymore. Our truck has been disabled and we're taking cover in a nearby ditch."

Jacques: See you soon Cherise.

While in the ditch with the others, take out your cellphone with your uninjured arm as a light source, and inspect the source of your pain. There seems to be a bruised or fractured bone located in your left forearm, either the radius or ulna. I guess you'll know when this is all over and you can see a doctor.

Ignore the chaos, powerful winds, and potential death. Get out of the ditch, and walk back to the truck, being cautious as to not injure yourself further. Search around in the truck for a first-aid kit.

After searching around the truck, there appears to be remnants of what used to be the first-aid kit. The contents must have been thrown around in the crash. The supplies left were fastened inside by small compartments, these contents include: Sterilization dressings, vet wrap (Bandages.), Antiseptic wipes, a lighter, and a penlight.

Remove the lighter and Vet wrap, place the lighter in your pocket, and keep the vet wrap in your right hand. Close up the first-aid kit and return to those in the ditch beside Charles. Ask Charles or one of the other firefighters to apply the vet wrap to your injured forearm.

Hand the first-aid kit to Charles, and attempt to talk to him over the storm.

@ Charles: "It's not much! But you should get these supplies to any other injured people!"

Lewis: "This storm just got a lot more real than Y2K ever was. There's a tornado warning for the county, I- I think a tornado just touched down outside town."

Look around for somewhere to sit.

Larson: As you angrily read the newspaper with the television on, a warning comes on quite annoyingly telling everyone that a tornado watch is in effect until tomorrow and that one has already touched down.

Grunt angrily, then digress as you go down to your basement as May follows you downstairs. Once downstairs, continue to angrily read the newspaper. You should've stayed in Los Angeles. After all, you hate Oregon. It's such a liberal state. Why the hell is 55mph the speed limit? What is this? 1960? And how come you can't pump your own gasoline? What're you going to do? Steal it?

Christian:

"Alright, no problem." He looks up, just in time to catch the building overhead rattling, courtesy of the crack of thunder. "We'll just sit around here, weather the storm, then head out and inspect the damages. See if everything's alright."

He pauses, then frowns, before rising and making his way over to the various wines and drinks available. "Haven't drank since college...

You got any family, Jim?"