It's All Good! (Game Topic)

A TOWN IS UNITED, BOUND BY FEAR during the largest storm of their lifetimes. Large hail flies from the sky and smashed against windows and pavement. The rain comes heavy and unyielding, flooding the roads and lowlands. In the months and years to come, those that survive will remember this storm as the big one. They share the mutual experience of living in Prineville and experiencing the good and the bad together. Most of them do not know each other as well as they may like, though almost all are at least acquainted. However, when a tempest as large and as foreboding as this looms, the entire town is bound by fear, and, unbeknownst to them, fate.

AN UNEMPLOYED VAGRANT is surrounded by the most significant people in their insignificant little town. As the thunder roars and the twisters grow closer, a terrified secretary repeats her story to an old acquaintance. The vagrant listens and nods, having no better home to go to. During troubled times, the man can’t help but recount the dozens and dozens of time he went wrong. Despite himself, he feels frightened, blaming it on the atmosphere. None say it out loud, but every person in every basement all over town is hoping, praying that it will be over soon.

A LOVING PRESCHOOL TEACHER finds her major in Art quite unhelpful amidst the makeshift phone-flashlights and the bawling children. At times like these, teachers tell the children that being in the school, in the very place they are now is the absolute safest place to be in the world. However, this teacher knows the frightening, dirty truth; there is nothing safe about their situation. As the winds grow stronger and the hail cracks against the window, she realizes that she would only feel safe at home with her loved one, who now seems so very far away.

AN ECCENTRIC PHOTOGRAPHER jumps into a ditch and checks his arm for damage in the midst of the screaming wind. The rain and hail pounds onto his body, but he can hardly feel it. He is haunted and strangely, somewhat comforted by the thought of his late loved one Cherise. He diagnoses a fracture in his left arm and, with a suicidal attitude, runs to the truck for the first aid kit. He grabs scattered pieces of makeshift medical supplies into a box, fumbling with one arm, and runs back to the ditch where, thankfully, he is not alone. A firefighter attempts to bandage his arm, but drops the wrap into the mud. The wind is powerful enough that the photographer can’t hear what the man is saying. He wonders for a moment if they won’t all be blown away into a twister.

A COURAGEOUS FIREFIGHTER orders his men and a French photographer to hide in a ditch in the wake of their truck crash. He is desperate; he and the others know that the ditch offers little protection, but there is no better alternative. As he radios his fire chief and pleads his situation, he notices the photographer running back with a first aid kit. The firefighter tries his best to bandage the arm, but fumbles the wrap. He apologizes, and promises to get him help as soon as possible. Stuck in the mud with his fellow firefighters, his true brothers, and an eccentric photographer, he prays to whatever deity that will listen to allow him to return to his family.

A PUZZLING STUDENT hides with his family in their basement, all terrified with the exception of the youngest, who knows that everything will turn out alright. The oldest son recites what he heard to the radio and sits with his family. The father draws them all close. The binds of family are strong, but the student doubts that they are strong enough to resist an act of God, a twister tearing through their town. The weather is loud enough to almost drown out the sound of the awful sirens, shouting that nothing is well in Prineville.

A HAUNTED VETERAN is nothing more than a little annoyed by the weather.

A LUDDITE POST OFFICE WORKER has no shelter but his books from the rain. He has one of the best, most terrifying views of the storm; the street in front of his window is adorned with debris. Trash, tree limbs, and everything else not bolted down seems to be flying down the street at an alarming speed. Hail cracks the window. Against his better judgement, and contrary to the logic earned as an old man, the postal worker is frightened. He has no one in the world to share the experience with, to huddle with in fear. With nothing better to do than worry, he sits. And he waits.

AN EXPERIENCED BARTENDER sits in a poorly lit room with a lifetime’s supply of alcohol and a freelance writer. He doesn’t know the writer very well, but the bartender’s had an eternity to familiarize with the alcohol. He never personally thought of himself as an alcoholic; sure, he had a drink or two every weekend, but nothing like some of his regulars. With the thunder cracking like a whip, his craving for the drink deepens. He gestures toward his company and offers him anything from the cellar. A drink can do a man good in a storm like this.

A TRANQUIL WRITER spends the noon hour hiding from the storm in a cellar full of alcohol and a barkeep. Her peruses the selection and selects a fine wine, bringing it back to the candlelit table. He shares the bottle with the barkeep a bit, the two trying to talk of family and the past over the cacophony of the storm. The writer doesn’t drink much, that would be out of character for him. He tries to imagine how a character he wrote would act in this situation; hiding in a cellar during a monster storm with a barkeep who is more of a stranger than a not. The thought is silly. For the dozenth time today, he reminds himself this is not a videogame, and the danger that looms outside is very real.

A REGRETFUL ALCOHOLIC pleads to his wife to forgive him, promising to give up the drink. His wife has heard the same story many times before. She denies him, showing off her bruises, an accusation against his character. In a manner most unlike him, he cries, and begs at her feet. The son pretends not to hear his father cry, trying to stay absorbed in his book across the basement. The wife relents and the drunk vows again to never taste his favorite nectar. Moments later, as the storm rages outside, the only thing in the world he wants is a drink.

A TROUBLED OUTCAST uses candlelight to furiously write her poetry. The atmosphere is frightening, filled with charged emotion, and she is given inspiration like she’s never been given before. Her mother ignores her and chooses the company of her newest husband, the outcast’s stepfather instead. The outcast does not mind, for it is nothing she is not used to. In this world, when the storms rage and people cry, all are afraid other than her; she is simply inspired. She has no one to worry about, no friends and hardly no family, least of all herself. She writes.

A CURIOUS SCIENTIST ignores the storm as best as he can, waiting in the Inn for it to pass. He had been called back to his lab from vacation the day before, and only wanted to stay in Prineville for one night at most; that morning he woke up late and found the conditions too terrible to drive in. He counts himself lucky; a man driving through that storm is a crazy man, bound for a wreck. Unlike most civilians, he is not from this town, and he is not afraid of this town’s storm. What frightens him more is what waits for him at the laboratory.

A TIRELESS OFFICER waits for the storm to break to continue his search. He is frightened, but not of the storm; at night he has nightmares of finding his daughter dead, or, worse yet, not finding her at all. He sits at the Inn lobby with half a dozen other people. His daughter is far from him, though still in Prineville; she fights a headache that threatens to split her brain in two. She wrestles against her restraints, her captor muttering to a conspirator. The conspirator advises patience while the captor argues action. Eyes blindfolded, she cannot see the conspirator, though she knows the captor well. She tries and fails to keep focus on the two and on consciousness. She passes out.

AS SUDDEN AS IT STARTED, THE RAIN STOPS falling over Prineville. The hail stops cracking windows and the wind stops howling. The storm halts suddenly in the blink of an eye. In the basement of the town hall, an unemployed vagrant and an old acquaintance both feel a change in the air. The teacher no longer hears hail smashing against her window; the children stop shouting and crying. The photographer and the firefighter cease feeling the harsh projectiles of the storm pounding against their bodies. The student can hear the sirens crystal clear, for the weather has stopped making a loud fuss. The veteran grins. He knows he’s right. Storms here are nothing compared to the midwest. The post office worker is startled by the sudden stillness outside the window, as if someone has paused the world. The alcoholic burns for a drink and sees the sudden change in weather as a sign that everything will be all right. The outcast drops her pen; the mother runs upstairs. The scientist and the officer both observe the sudden stop in rain and hurry outside and observe a most peculiar phenomenon.

IN THE DISTANCE, THE TOWN IS SURROUNDED by a transparent shield, outlined by rain that seems to stop at the top of the sky and slope off to the outskirts of the town. Past the outskirts of Prineville, twisters are visible, and the storm rages on. Inside the town, everything is calm; even the wind has stopped blowing. The officer is stunned and the scientist is reeling. Neither of them utters a word. One of little education and one of higher education, both understand that the town is protected, or trapped, by an impossible transparent dome.

Spoiler:

Spoiler:

Once the storm is over, walk outside with May. Assist anyone that may be in need.

Lewis: "Did it just stop?"

Listen to the radio to find out what happened.

Samantha:

"Ah, see kids? It's alright, I think it stopped."

Put away cell phone and go outside to survey the damage. Be cautious.

Charles: Look up towards the sky to see why the rain has suddenly stopped. See a giant orb surrounding the area, completely mesmerized by it, all you can do is mutter out "What the hell..."

Snap out of it and announce to the others "Alight guys whatever that thing is, it's keeping the storm out. Let's start heading back to town. They might need our help."

Desmond: Stick with the group. If nobody does anything, suggest checking outside.

Jacques: Stand up out of the ditch using your right arm as leverage. View the rain covering the transparent dome, and the twisters outside of it. Accept the anomaly's presence as your saviour; and possibly your captor.

@ Crowd "This is of course all a prank by some evil supernatural overlord who enjoys live-action snow globe dioramas."

Crack a grin, trying to settle the nerves of those whom have recently been instilled with the fear of death.

"Charles has the right plan, we are of no use to Prineville out here. We need to get moving to see the damage back in-town. But before we begin the journey back to Prineville, our intentions selfless to help those in need, we must act selfishly to help ourselves before the walk back. I don't want my, or anyone else's injuries to get any worse. It would be ideal that the fire-fighters here use their basic medical expertise to attend any injured's wounds, and afterwards we can begin the walk back."

Look around in the ditch, more specifically in the mud for the vet-wrap and the first-aid kit.

There seems to be no trace of where the Vet-wrap has gone, but the obvious conclusion is in the mud. The first aid kit remains above the mud. After removing mud from the first-aid kit, hand it over to Charles.

Once again, return to the fire-truck to scavenge for useful equipment. With your right arm, look around in all the fire-truck's compartments. Finding a Fire-rescue leather dufflebag, a Multi-gas detector, an MDT, a PASS device, and a Pulaski Axe. Place them all inside the dufflebag. With the Pulaski Axe's handle poking out of the zipped bag, throw the bag over your right shoulder. Return to the group and approach the fire-fighters.

@ Charles/Firefighters "Look, I would consider this theft in any other circumstance, but this dome? If it doesn't let the rain in, what are the chances of it being able of letting us out? I don't know what it is, how it happened, or where it came from. But what I do know is that it's here, and as long as it's here, for as long as it's here: It will, from my estimation, keep us trapped in Prineville. My preparation could turn out to be paranoia, or it could be a life saver. So I'm going to take this equipment: the equipment that may be useful to me and others, and use it in any positive way I can at any opportunity. Before I can do that of course, I would appreciate any medical attendance to my arm. I recommend using one of the unnecessary straps on this duffel bag as a more 'home-made' ingredient in any medicinal concoction you men can create."

The pain has gone from dull and restless, to sharp and occasional. Without medical procedure: the wound will get worse, but worst-case scenario being temporary immobilization. The fracture has seemed to have minimum damage: A hairline fracture. And can heal with the assistance of a cast or splint and muscle therapy. Estimated healing time being four to ten days, and ten to eighteen without medical procedure.

Spoiler:

Augustine Larson (Jagdgeschwader) - Retired Veteran

Augustine and his trusty dog May walk outside. The sky is as dark and foreboding before, but no rain falls onto the streets. The Veteran ignores the implications of the town’s situation and scans the road up and down. No one appears to be in need of help; most civilians outside have their heads fixed upwards, gazing silently at the top of the dome. Another firetruck turns the corner and speeds past Augustine towards the west city limits. A small boy, about eight years old, is chasing the firetruck. He falls in front of the Veteran and quickly stands up.

“Mr. Larson! What is that?” He says, panting, pointing at the sky.


Lewis Beck (Flasktoss) - High School Student

“Did it just stop?”

As Lewis fiddles with the radio, his brother is practically jumping up and down with excitement. “I told you! I said the rain would stop before it got real bad!”

Leonard begins ascending the stairs while commanding, “Stay down here, all of you. I doubt this storm is over.”

After he shuts the door to the basement, Lionel starts to climb after him. His mother yells, “Lionel! Listen to your father and get back down here!”

“But Mom! It’s over, I know it’s over.”

“How on Earth would you know that?”

“I told you. I dreamed it would end this way, and it did!”

Lewis is torn between obedience to his father and curiosity of the outside.


Samantha Hightower (Nickisanenigma) - Preschool Art Teacher

"Ah, see kids? It's alright, I think it stopped."

Samantha quickly pushes past all the kids and heads outside. She sees that several tree limbs have been strewn across the north road heading towards the center of town, obstructing passage for now. The south end appears unobstructed, but the heavy rain has caused standing water that threatens to hydroplane any vehicle driving too quickly. All around Samantha, at all ends of the city, a dome stands as a guardian against the storm.

“Help! Call 911!”

Samantha runs back inside to the sight of Maizie Winthrope on the ground, seizing. Her mother is screaming and her father fumbles for his phone. The rest of the kids look worriedly at her. Most of the parents are rushing them outside and to their vehicles. Maizie’s father runs outside with his phone. “Goddammit, where can a man get a signal?”

Seconds later, he runs back in, throwing his phone against the wall. “Damn things aren’t working!”

Mrs. Winthrope is sitting beside daughter, whose mouth has started foaming. “What do we do?!”

“I-I don’t know, okay?”


Desmond “Des” Warren (Desert Sleepy) - Unemployed

Des follows the group as they excitedly head outside. The secretary is talking nervously. “...can’t believe it! Some kind of bubble or bowl covering the whole town! My, I just HAVE to get ahold of all the girls, they’ll be THRILLED to hear about this!”

“...No, sir, Mr. Mayor, I have no idea what caused this.”

“We don’t have our hands in some kind of weird government thing, right? No sci-fi bullshit?”

“Not that I’m aware of, sir.”
“I want a town hall meeting as soon as possible. I’m willing to bet the whole damn town will show up, get the stadium reserved.”

“As you wish, sir.”

The sound of firetrucks and squealing cars can be heard in the distance. He tunes into his acquaintance again.

“...anyway, what are you going to do now, Des? I should probably get to work, helping the Mayor...”


Charles McCarthy (FoundDa Kiwi) - FireFighter
Jacques Crecateu (ApocalypseWolf) - Photographer

Charles and Jacques look up at the sky. Charles sees the shield as a mesmerizing bubble and mutters “What the hell?” under his breath. Jacques, being a more spiritual man, views the shield as his savior (captor). They both gaze a moment at the twisters trapped safely outside the town.

Jacques addresses the firefighters, “This is of course all a prank by some evil supernatural overlord who enjoys live-action snow globe dioramas.” His joke falls on a dead audience. He grins, hoping that he settled the nerves of his peers, especially John, the terrified firefighter who crashed the truck.

Charles snaps out of his gaze. “"Alright guys, whatever that thing is, it's keeping the storm out. Let's start heading back to town. They might need our help."

Jacques speaks up and says, "Charles has the right plan, we are of no use to Prineville out here. We need to get moving to see the damage back in-town. But before we begin the journey back to Prineville, our intentions selfless to help those in need, we must act selfishly to help ourselves before the walk back. I don't want my, or anyone else's, injuries to get any worse. It would be ideal that the firefighters here use their basic medical expertise to attend any wounds, and afterwards we can begin the walk back."

John responds, “Y-yeah, he’s right. We gotta help ourselves before we help them, right? Anyone injured...besides the photographer?”

No one pipes up. Some of the guys head to the truck to retrieve supplies while Jacques looks in the ditches. He fishes a first-aid kit out from just above the mud and hands it to Charles.

Gently pushing aside the others, the Photographer scavenges the inside of the truck. He throws the MDT, a PASS device, and the Pulaski axe inside a dufflebag. The axe slightly protrudes out of the bag after he zips it to the best of his ability. He throws it around his shoulder and addresses the team.

"Look, I would consider this theft in any other circumstance, but this dome? If it doesn't let the rain in, what are the chances of it being able of letting us out? I don't know what it is, how it happened, or where it came from. But what I do know is that it's here, and as long as it's here, for as long as it's here: It will, from my estimation, keep us trapped in Prineville. My preparation could turn out to be paranoia, or it could be a lifesaver. So I'm going to take this equipment: the equipment that may be useful to me and others, and use it in any positive way I can at any opportunity. Before I can do that of course, I would appreciate any medical attendance to my arm. I recommend using one of the unnecessary straps on this duffel bag as a more 'home-made' ingredient in any medicinal concoction you men can create."

“Already on it,” Charles says as he digs out another Vet-wrap from the truck. Within moments, Charles has created a makeshift sling for the Photographer. His arm pain is biting and throbbing, a bad sign. He can’t figure out if his arm is fractured or broken without some kind of medical advice.

John takes the duffel bag from Jacques gently, saying, “Look, man, I’m glad you’re calm, but you just busted your arm, and we’ve got more experience with this stuff. We’ll take the bag and the equipment inside.”

Christian:

"Sounds like the storm's over, Jim."

He begins heading for the cellar stairs. "What do you say we go inspect the damages?"

Samantha:

Oh crap, oh my god, oh my god, oh crap, oh god.

"We-we've gotta get her to the hospital now, I don't- we can't do anything for her here. Come on let's lift her up, we'll take my car. W-watch her arms, we gotta go. It's all gonna be okay. Mr. Winthrope? We're going right now."

Get her to the car and take the south route out and navigate to the nearest emergency room, looking for any emergency vehicles on the way. Don't hydroplane on the exit.

"Where are your parents child?" says Larson,

Jacques: @ John "Of course."

Allow John to take the bag.

@ Firefighters: "You guys have more experience helping people than I do. I'm just feeling guilty about the whole situation, maybe if you hadn't stopped, if you hadn't of picked me up. Maybe you'd all be better off right now. I'm just trying to, redeem myself."

Crowd: "Well, no use over analyzing things, what's happened has happened. We should probably get back to town to see what's going on. Everybody gather your things, keep a steady pace on the road, we'll be back to Prineville in no time. Oh, and Charles, thanks for the sling."

Head back onto the road. Begin slowly walking back to town, when the others join you on the road, increase your pace until you've reached a decent walking speed. Keep at that speed for the remaining distance.

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?"

Jim: "Family? I've got one just like anyone else does I guess. Dad died of cancer 4 years ago, other than that my mother is living in Burns, my brother Glen is in New York. For some people family is everything. Now don't get me wrong kid, family is important. But the way I see it, its nothing but blood. What makes a family a solid unit of love and tenderness and all that junk is time, not DNA. You spend enough time within the same household with anyone else and they'll be family too. And if you spend enough time in a bar throwing drinks back with alcoholics and unlucky bastards then they'll become a little like family too. That's the family I know. Bloods got nothing to do with it - unless you get pulled over and your blood alcohol content is over .08% - then I don't know you and you don't know me.

Now how about a drink?!

This is where we store all of our kegs, bottled beer, wine, whiskeys, scotches, bourbons, vodkas, gins, and liqueurs so your choices are anything and everything. "

Jim's voice lets off excitement, maybe because alcohol is the one thing is considers himself a connoisseur of.

"Do you like whiskey? I've got Redbreast, its one of the only whiskeys still made in a single pot still and--"

Christian stares blankly.

"Right, your probably a scotch drinker. Well in that case I've got a real nice MacAllen single malt, if not theres always good ole Johnny Bla--"

Christian: "Sounds like the storm's over, Jim."

He begins heading for the cellar stairs.

"What do you say we go inspect the damages?"

Jim: "Err...yeah that sounds good."

Jim silently scolds himself for not ordering that bottle of Ardbeg, surely the kid would have liked it.


Jim and Christian head upstairs.

Lewis: My parents would be upset if I left now, I had better stay here.

Put the radio to the side for now, as it doesn't seem to be working properly. Maybe the storm did something to the signal.

"Lionel, I think in all the excitement, you're getting your memory mixed up. Though I'll admit, there is something about this storm... I can't hear anything from outside anymore. Mom, have you ever seen such a bad storm stop as suddenly as this one did?"

Desmond: "I suppose I'm going to get a better look at this thing. See you around, Cathy."

Walk around town. Head towards wherever looks to be the edge of the dome. Look out for anybody that needs help or anything interesting.

Samantha Hightower (Nickisanenigma) - Preschool Art Teacher

Samantha tries to calm herself, resisting the urge to freak out and cry. I can’t do that here. This is important. Pull yourself together, Sam. The comfort of her bubble bath seems like a distant fantasy.

"We-we've gotta get her to the hospital now, I don't- we can't do anything for her here. Come on let's lift her up, we'll take my car. W-watch her arms, we gotta go. It's all gonna be okay. Mr. Winthrope? We're going right now."

Maizie stops seizing as Mr. Winthrope lifts her up. For a brief moment, Samantha’s heart stops as she wonders if the child died. The girl coughs and moans something about her head before slipping into unconsciousness. Mrs. Winthrope is crying, “My baby girl, my sweet girl...” as Mr. Winthrope carries the girl outside with Samantha tailing at his heels. The trio take a moment to gaze at the mesmerizing dome surrounding their ordinary town.

The father thanks Ms. Hightower. “Thanks, really, but I think we can take her to the hospital from here.” He gestures towards the sky. “Whatever’s going on... I dunno, I hope the hospital’s not full.” He gently places the girl in the back seat of the car, making sure to buckle her in the best he can. “You’re welcome to follow us to the hospital, I know how you teachers are about your students...” His voice trails off. “Well, thanks.”

As he pulls out of the parking lot, cautiously driving to avoid hydroplaning, Samantha’s coworker
walks outside and asks, “Are you going to follow them, Sam?”


Augustine Larson (Jagdgeschwader) - Retired Veteran

Larson sizes up the kid. Doesn’t look like he belongs here. The kid’s clothing is more reminiscent of a simpler time; he’s not wearing baggy jeans or American Eagle t-shirts. He’s wearing a simple set of shorts, a t-shirt, and a baseball cap. He looks familiar. Must be one of the neighborhood boys.

“Where are your parents, child?”

He looks confused. “Where are YOURS, Mr. Larson?”

“Dead and buried long ago, child. Now, answer my question.”

“I already did, sir!”

A faint voice shouting “August! August!” from down the street makes Mr. Larson whip his head around. As the boy runs toward the voice, he grows more and more transparent until he’s faded entirely, as if he were never there at all.


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

"Alright, no problem." Christian 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?"

"Family? I've got one just like anyone else does I guess. Dad died of cancer four years ago... other than that, my mother is living in Burns, my brother Glen is in New York. For some people, family is everything. Now don't get me wrong kid - family is important. But the way I see it, it’s nothing but blood. What makes a family a solid unit of love and tenderness and all that junk is time, not DNA. You spend enough time within the same household with anyone else and they'll be family too. And if you spend enough time in a bar throwing drinks back with alcoholics and unlucky bastards then they'll become a little like family too. That's the family I know. Blood’s got nothing to do with it - unless you get pulled over and your blood alcohol content is over .08% - then I don't know you and you don't know me.

Now how about a drink?!”

He makes a show of examining his inventory.

“This is where we store all of our kegs, bottled beer, wine, whiskeys, scotches, bourbons, vodkas, gins, and liqueurs so your choices are anything and everything.”

His voice escalates in excitement. If I am a connoisseur of anything, it’s alcohol.

"Do you like whiskey? I've got Redbreast, its one of the only whiskeys still made in a single pot still and--"

He notices the writer staring blankly.

"Right, you're probably a scotch drinker. Well in that case I've got a real nice MacAllen single malt, if not theres always good ole Johnny Bla--"

“Sounds like the storm’s over, Jim.”

Christ, Jim thinks, he’s right. How long have I been blabbing?

The kid heads to the cellar door. “What do you say we go inspect the damages?”

“Err... yeah. That sounds good.”

Should have mentioned the Ardbeg, the kid would have loved it.

The two make their way outside. Like thousands of other civilians in their quaint town, they were perplexed by the storm raging in the distance and the apparent dome encapsulating their home. Several windows nearby were cracked from the large hail and the water in the road made driving conditions dangerous. Other than that, the area around the two seemed unharmed, but disturbed. The wind blew trash bins and tree branches around, causing a huge mess.

It was still dark outside from the storm. An old-fashioned street-clock said the time was just past one in the afternoon.


Charles McCarthy (FoundDa Kiwi) - FireFighter
Jacques Crecateu (ApocalypseWolf) - Photographer

The photographer nods to John. “Of course.” He pauses for a moment, then speaks to the group. "You guys have more experience helping people than I do. I'm just feeling guilty about the whole situation, maybe if you hadn't stopped, if you hadn't of picked me up... Maybe you'd all be better off right now. I'm just trying to...redeem myself.”

The firefighters shuffle awkwardly, not sure how to respond. After a moment, Charles says, “Don’t mull over it too much. It’s not like we could have left you out there.”

"Well, no use over analyzing things, what's happened has happened. We should probably get back to town to see what's going on. Everybody gather your things, keep a steady pace on the road, we'll be back to Prineville in no time. Oh, and Charles, thanks for the sling."

He starts walking on the road, slowly, waiting for the team to join him. For a moment, they stand around, obviously with mixed emotions; while the civilian was correct in every way, they weren’t used to taking advice from people they had just saved.

The group starts their small quest back into town, a short mile and a half away.

Spoiler:

Lewis Beck (Flasktoss) - High School Student

My parents would be upset if I left now, I had better stay here.

He puts the radio to the side, deducing that the storm has temporarily disrupted the signal.

"Lionel, I think in all the excitement, you're getting your memory mixed up. Though I'll admit, there is something about this storm... I can't hear anything from outside anymore. Mom, have you ever seen such a bad storm stop as suddenly as this one did?"

She thinks. “No. There have been storms where it seems like it will only get worse, but then gradually stops... but never have I ever experienced a storm that cut off as suddenly as this one. It was like someone flipped a switch, and the rain stopped.”

Leonard opens the door to the basement, and silently gestures for his family to follow him. Upon stepping outside, Mrs. Beck gasps in surprise and raises her hand to her mouth. Lionel shouts in excitement, “Wow! It’s just like I dreamed!”

The Becks are transfixed on the shield that is surrounding their town in all directions, covering the town like an upside-down bowl. Leonard mutters to his son, “What do you make of it, son?”


Desmond 'Des' Warren (Desert Sleepy) - Unemployed

"I suppose I'm going to get a better look at this thing. See you around, Cathy."

He walks aimlessly around town, keeping a watchful eye on anyone that needs help or any interesting sights. There are several people like him wandering, but, for a few minutes, no one appears to need any help. When he turns a corner, Des notices a firetruck barreling toward the edge of the dome where a small fire seems to be raging.

Samantha:

It shocked Samantha how unprepared she was, how off guard Maizie had caught her. The stark contrast between her love of kids and her lack of knowledge about how to deal with crisis never failed to amaze. She made a note to Google seizures later. If she could. She glanced up at the sky.

She knew, she saw this happening.

Marty could wait. The storm was gone now anyway...

"Yeah, yeah I think I will. I'd just, I'd feel awful if anything happened to her."

Sam runs back inside the building and grabs Maizie's drawing from among the haphazard pile on the carpet. If anything the parents deserve to see this, but the truth was she was more curious herself.

Drive to the hospital and see what's become of Prineville.

Desmond: Go check out the fire.

Lewis: "Lionel has a point, this suddenly feels like a dream...

Things like this just don't exist, and if they did, they wouldn't be deployable in an instant. It's too big to be made of transparent ceramics or metals, I mean, it would be way too cumbersome-

And, yeah, and it can't be solid, there's just no way. Maybe it's a field of some sort, but the technology just doesn't exist yet. How would this thing even be powered? It couldn't be-

Look, the storm is still there, but we've been cut off from it. Does that mean we're cut off from the rest of the world? If this bubble is supposed to be protection, I really hope it's only temporary. This has never-"

Stop babbling abruptly as Leonard puts his arm on my shoulder and squeezes. Peer up to notice his eyes on mine, filled with concern. Leah is holding onto Lionel's shoulders with both hands, also looking at me. She smiles knowingly.

I feel my hands holding something, and realize that I've subconsciously retrieved a wooden cube with rounded edges from my pocket. I've been fidgeting with it as I spoke. Quietly place it back into my pocket.

"I have no idea what to make of this."

Larson:

Confused as to what is happening, investigate further by trying to find others.

Samantha Hightower (Nickisanenigma) - Preschool Art Teacher

It shocked Samantha how unprepared she was, how off guard Maizie had caught her. The stark contrast between her love of kids and her lack of knowledge about how to deal with crisis never failed to amaze her. She made a note to Google seizures late... if she could. She glanced up at the sky.

Maizie knew this. She saw this happening.

Marty could wait. After all, the storm was over...

"Yeah, yeah I think I will. I'd just, I'd feel awful if anything happened to her."

Sam runs back inside the building and grabs Maizie's drawing from among the haphazard pile on the carpet. If anything the parents deserve to see this, but the truth was she was more curious herself.

She takes her time on the drive to the hospital, careful not to hydroplane, and ever curious about the state of the town. For the most part, things seemed queerly normal; people were out and about inspecting typical storm damage such as downed tree limbs and garden gnomes blown streets over.

In the distance, a fire engine howls, and smoke billows. On the inside of the dome, she notes.

She parks at the hospital, arriving several minutes later than the Winthropes.

Desmond ‘Des’ Warren (Desert Sleepy) - Unemployed

Bound by a curious spirit and with nothing better to do, the Vagabond wanders toward the direction of the fire. In moments, the firefighters are quick at work, and the fire is almost entirely quelled by the time Des approaches close enough to see. A smoking husk of a car is visible, flattened against what seems like thin air. In his professional opinion, Des believes that the car was driving out of town when the dome appeared suddenly.

There doesn’t seem to be any survivors, at least not from his current viewpoint.

Lewis Beck (Flasktoss) - High School Student

"Lionel has a point, this suddenly feels like a dream...

Things like this just don't exist, and if they did, they wouldn't be deployable in an instant. It's too big to be made of transparent ceramics or metals, I mean, it would be way too cumbersome-

And, yeah, and it can't be solid, there's just no way. Maybe it's a field of some sort, but the technology just doesn't exist yet. How would this thing even be powered? It couldn't be-

Look, the storm is still there, but we've been cut off from it. Does that mean we're cut off from the rest of the world? If this bubble is supposed to be protection, I really hope it's only temporary. This has never-"

Lewis stops babbling abruptly as Leonard puts his arm around his shoulder and squeezes. The student peers up to notice his father’s eyes locked with his, filled with concern. Leah is holding onto Lionel's shoulders with both hands, also looking at Lewis. She smiles knowingly.

He feels his hands holding something, and realizes that he’s subconsciously retrieved a wooden cube with rounded edges from his pocket. I've been fidgeting with it as I spoke. He quietly places it back into his pocket.

"I have no idea what to make of this."

“Neither do I,” his father remarks. “Right now, that’s okay. We’ve got the provisions to last the long haul if we need to, and I really doubt we’re going to need to. Has this kind of thing happened? Ever? Anywhere? This is going to put Prineville on the map, son. The military, the government, even the United Nations will be involved.”

Leah seems comforted by her husbands words. “What do you think the Mayor will do, Leonard?”

“If I were him, I’d hold a town meeting, as soon as possible. I’d get whatever talent this town has to try to solve the problem from the inside... and I’d start rationing food now. Oh, one thing, Lewis? Lionel?”

The two sons give their father their attention.

“Don’t mention our rations to anyone. Not to your friends, your secret girlfriends, your teachers, no one. Okay?”

At that moment, Lionel’s eyes roll into the back of his head, and he falls suddenly. His body slams against the ground. A queer thought passes through his brother’s mind: Like an exaggerated exclamation point.

Lewis’s ears start ringing, drowning out the sounds of his parents screams as they quickly rush to his brother’s side. He backs away from his family, startled. The ringing gradually dies down and stops as Lionel wakes.

“W-what happened?”

Leonard holds his son by the shoulders. “Are you okay? You passed out. Jesus christ, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Dad.” His pale face indicates otherwise. “I dunno, I just felt kind of weird, like a really bad headache that lasted only a few seconds, and then I was asleep for what felt like hours. And I had another dream. I dunno if the military are going to come, Dad.”

“Why not, son?”

“I dunno. I just have a feeling they won’t. You know?”

His parents hold their child silently, glancing at each other, obviously trying to have some kind of nonverbal communication without Lionel knowing. If Lewis had to venture a guess, they were debating on whether or not to take the kid to the hospital.

Should they?

Augustine Larson (Jagdgeschwader) - Retired Veteran

Larson slowly makes his way down the street, trying to find any others. Where’d all the damn people go? Only a few moments ago, the streets seemed lively, but now they were as dead as the storm. His vision blurred and for a few moments he caught glimpses of planes flying in the air and caught the whiff of napalm. I’m an old man, and still the war haunts me.

Finally he sees a young couple staring at the sky. Both are familiar faces; he knew their father and attended their wedding on his behalf. “Hey, kids.”
“Oh, hey, Mr. Larson,” the young husband replies.

They both patiently look at him, waiting for his next response.

Spoiler:

Larson: This is a dream.

Desmond: Throw a stick or other piece of debris at the area where the invisible wall or whatever it is should be located.

Lewis: "Hey, Lionel, we're definitely going to get help from the authorities. Dad's right, this is something new, so the government is probably already sending people here to check it out."

Lewis looks up at the dome, at the rain cascading sideways through the air, and grimaces slightly.

"But maybe we should head back inside for now?"