Zmajevit 2016/07/09(Sat)15:36 No. 734639 ID: 9fdb37
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You instinctively turn your head to the source of the voice and you’re greeted with a strange sight. Somehow, you see a white silhoutte of a man through the blindfold, but nothing else. You let out a surprised gasp.

“Surprised? That makes two of us.” The man tells you. “Imagine my surprise to find someone as ‘fresh’ as you in my apartment after a hard day of work. With no signs of forced entry, no less. Completely out of it on my couch. Like you fucking own the place.”

This guy doesn’t seem very stable. The assumption gets reinforced when you hear the sound of a spinning cylinder and a distinct click when it hits the revolver. You fully understand that the shit is well on its way to hit the fan and that you’re very likely to die today. The fact that you had no idea that you’re in someone’s apartment does not comfort you in the least. He speaks up again.

“But I’m not so unreasonable to just kill a guest, so let’s play a game, kiddo. I’m gonna ask you some questions and you’re gonna answer them. You better answer ’em truthfully because I know when people are lying to me. As an incentive, for every response I don’t like, you’ll get a bullet to the leg. And if I don’t like the way you’re singing, you’re out of the talent show. You catch my meaning?”

You silently ask God what you did to deserve this and gulp with a nod of affirmation. Fear seems to be a heck of a cure for short-term amnesia or whatever you have. The man changes his tone to a more friendly one as if he genuinely means it, though you withhold your enthusiasm.

“Glad that we understand each other. So, here are the questions.
Who are you?
What’s your job?
What’s the last thing you remember?
Have you ever killed someone? How many?
Any vices?
What do you see right now?
And do keep in mind that I’d hate to ruin my floor.”

How to proceed...

"My name is Vincent Alto. And that's all I'll give you until l get a quid pro quo, question for question my new friend, but I'll give you this freebie, all I can see right now is your and your suit."

But who you are is Vincint Alto, 27 year old private detective. Last thing I remember is working a missing persons case, it was a young girl only 17 years old went missing. The lead you had been going on led you to shady part of town where you were promptly clubbed upside the head. Have you ever killed anyone? Yes. How many? 6 people, all of whom were shooting at you at the time. Any vices? You've been told you have a drinking problem, but ever since... the one case... Well, alcohol sometimes helps quiet the screams.

Your name is Elijah Alovit, and the last thing you remember is passing out on a park bench after your latest job.
Youre a thief, you see. You're /very/ good at what you do, you can sneak in anywhere, like wind, completely undetected. You've never killed anyone, though, because youve never needed to.
You see a white silhouette of a man.
Vices? Well, you enjoy a thrill, you enjoy adrenaline. You often devise needlessly risky plans, just so you know you can pull them off.

>>734640
So you DO know that's gonna get us killed, right? We've got no room to bargain.

>>734639
I'm...name's Jeremy Tannis. I work construction.

Last thing I remember was going out with a few of my friends after finishin' a house. We'd decided to hit Lipstick's. Y'know, the strip joint on Marten Street?
Can't say I've killed anyone. Just punched out a few people.
I like women...a lot. I also like beer a lot. S'why we decided to go to Lipstick's.
Uhh...just you. But not everything, just like, your outline.

John Fenner.
Whenever somebody says they know a guy who knows a guy, they're talking about me. I sometimes do other stuff, but mostly make introductions and mooch.
I remember two guys. One in a suit, the other in a Hawaiian shirt. Suit's lips move, but I can't hear what he's saying- or I just don't remember. The guy in the Hawaiian shirt has pitch-black eyes, and I think his teeth are sharpened to points.
No. I think I remember disposing of some bodies 'cause I'm everybody's best friend, but never by my own hand.
No. I mean I'll take a drink or a line if I'm offered, but nothing that'll get me into debt.
A man in a suit. You're not the one I remember, I think.

>>734642
Not necessarily, it's obvious this guy wants some kind of info about who we are, for whatever reason. He's also shown that he's reluctant to kill us (though I'm sure he would if even if it's only because he doesn't want his carpet ruined. At most they'll probably say something like "nice try but that's not how this works pal. Try again." Then since we really have nothing to lose, we can just spill the beans.

>>734644
I wouldn't risk it. I wouldn't call that real 'reluctance'.

>>734645
Regardless, we have something, a skill or piece of info, this guy needs so we do have some chips at this table. and he while he is reluctant to kill us, like I said my guess is at most all we'll get is a short warning. Who knows he may even like it and take it. We'll have to see.

"Lijah, Triad Assassin / Seamstress. More like the 8!+(# executioner that disposes of dead men walking; it's my job to take out the has-beens that have been dealt with economically, make sure that people the Triad ruined can't go to the police or be investigated by vigilantes, I whore myself out to the desperate ones and stalk the idiots until they go on a vacation and leave a sloppy, easily misdirected crime scene. I remember last night I barged into some stupid binge contest at the bar after the third week in a row without real work. I swear, if Jimmy Ji threw me into some random Mafia's apartment, I'd like you to do me a favor and force-feed him my corpse. Wait, what was the next questi- oh right, 126 executions, and 27-32 actual combat kills. Mostly noob retards. As for vices, drinking, and I like lesbian porn, which is strange because I don't get aroused to other girls. And finally, you appear to be wearing some kind of neon getup, but otherwise you look normal."

... I hope this is weird enough.

>>734646
Really? I didn't get that mental image at all. It sounded to me like he just wanted to know who the hell barged in.

>>734638
loose clothes, joints close together, 'kid', 'fresh'
are we a child?

>>734651
True, but notice one of the questions he didn't want to know is "what the hell are you doing in my apartment?" If anything he seems more curious as to who we are, implying that either 1. He's a sadist and enjoys hurting people (and if that's the case we need to try and get out of here) or 2. He thinks we could potentially be useful to him, and if he realizes we aren't useful, then I'd say the next bullet goes in our head. My guess is it's both though. A bullet to the leg isn't good but better hurt than dead.

>>734655
Oooor he could just not give a shit why we're here. It's the sheer fact that we intruded that makes him angry, and he wants to know who would be either stupid or bold enough to do so.

"My name is Vincent Marsuzo, heir to the Marsuzo clan! And if you don't untie me right this fucking instant, you're gonna end up with more holes in ya than a god damn cheese grater!"

You are Vincent Marsuzo, son of the don of the Marsuzo mafia. You don't really have a job, you live life in the lap of luxury off the money from the family business. The last thing you remember is a night of wild partying involving 17 hookers and thousands of dollars worth of hard drugs. You have never killed anyone personally, but a few people who you didn't like have ended up dead in the past, and you aren't completely helpless in a fight. You are prone to indulging in all manner of vices, though the aforementioned hookers are a long-time favorite.

We hardmode now.

For the record, since so many people posted their own ideas, MC will most probably have traits that came up multiple times. Aaaand I'll probably pick and choose the rest.

For now, the most certain thing is that MC is a dude.

>>734720
You might consider just blocking off further suggestions and making us vote on which of the identities already suggested we'd like to use, for more coherence.

>>734642
>>734643
>>734712
casting my vote for the crowd favorite out of these three.

also, zmajevit, don't be afraid of choosing whatever best fits the story you wanna tell, even if it's not the most popular. if it was suggested it's fair game, imo, and in a toss-up like this i don't think anyone would fault you.

1/3 Zmajevit 2016/07/10(Sun)13:56 No. 734922 ID: 9fdb37
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“My name is Vincent Marsuzo.” You respond to him. “Who are you and why-“

A gunshot cuts you off. Searing pain spreads through your left leg. It was so sudden that you literally forgot cry out. You want to whimper, but something doesn’t let you. Maybe misplaced sense of pride? You close your eyes for a moment and let out a grunt as you work through the pain. The man sighs disappointedly and you see him right in front of you the next moment.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Here I thought I wouldn’t have to waste bullets and ruin my flooring. Now, Vincent, are you done with testing how serious I am?”

You nod affirmatively. “Go on.” He tells you.

“I work construction...though I can’t say it’s entirely legal. The last thing I remember is going out with a few of my friends after finishin' a house. We'd decided to hit Lipstick's. Y'know, the strip joint on Marten Street?” You pause for a moment, expecting a reply.

“Can’t say that I do.” The man replies. “Need I remind you how I feel about questions?” You hear the revolver clicking again.

“R...right. Uh, I’m no saint, but I’ve never killed a soul in my life...that I know of. Who knows what’s in the bags I have to carry for work? And I did get into some nasty fights, though.” You groan in pain, forcing you to make a pause. “Ffffffrigg! I’m told I like drink more than I should and I’m weak when it comes to women, but I know when to quit...most of the time... And all I see now is a a white silhouette of a man in a suit. Nothing else.”

With all the questions answered, the man shuffles around for a bit before speaking to you. “So, you seem to possess the Sight, kid. That’s useful. We can work with that. Let me get that blindfold off, I’ve kept you in the dark long enough.” You think you heard him snerk. “Oh, and don’t worry about dying, kid...”

2/3 Zmajevit 2016/07/10(Sun)13:58 No. 734923 ID: 9fdb37
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“...since you’re dead on arrival.”

The blindfold is off and you’re greeted with a skeletal grin. You’re completely taken by surprise that you have no idea how to react. Is this some sick joke? Are you having a delirious dream after a pub crawl with your mates?

“Name’s ‘Crackerjack’ Triscaro. Welcome to the Underworld. Or Afterlife, Valhalla or however you’d like to call it. Now, I’m sure you’re dead-tired from the interrogation, ‘fresh’, but it’s your turn now to ask questions. And don’t be a bonehead about it.”

3/3 Zmajevit 2016/07/10(Sun)13:59 No. 734924 ID: 9fdb37
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This guy...seems to like his puns.

How should you react?

(Ah... So... Are we ripping off Grim Fandango and Helvetica? With a bit of undertale thrown in there?)

"Well then... If I'm dead, then how did I end up in your office and why did you shoot me? Just for shits and giggles?

He tortured you for a joke? What an dick!
First question: Screw you! Why an asshole like you is the first person I meet in the afterlife?

"Why are you such a shithead?"
"Can I double-die?"
"What's the Sight?"
"Is there some kinda informational pamphlet I can get? Or are you the end all be all of Hell's welcoming committee?"

Ask him if there's a way to see how you died. Probably killed by accident.

>>734995

"Does the fact that everyone looks pretty much identical cause any problems? I mean, the dead are the largest population there's ever been, and we've all got the same face?"

>>734927
>(Ah... So... Are we ripping off Grim Fandango and Helvetica? With a bit of undertale thrown in there?)
On the basic level of making afterlife seem mundane? Sort of, but not quite. Aside from Crackerjack, there won't be any other Undertale references and don't take Sans as a guide for dealing with him unless you wan't to have a bad time.

"What types of undead are there? Is everyone a skeleton or are things a bit more... Diverse?"

>>735285
Ain't just Sans that I'm talking about, our new friend Vincent bears quite a striking similarity to another skeleton from undertale (nyeh heh heh!)

>>735347
And now I can't unsee it. I was trying to go for a cartoony, non-threatening, fish-out-of-water look. I even had Alan Ford in my mind when I was drawing Vincent.

...I guess Papyrus subconsciously meets my standards in that regard.

...does /everyone/ arrive in your appartment?

>>735368
if vincent is alan ford, does that make crackerjack no 1?

Check your leg, since you're a skeleton it might take damage and heal differently.

1/2 Zmajevit 2016/07/14(Thu)17:55 No. 735851 ID: 9fdb37
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Your anger spews forth, your demeanor being purely emotional and unrestrained.
"Screw you! Why are you such a shithead?!"

Crackerjack widens his shit-eating grin. “Bucko, did you forget that I have a gun in my hand?”

You’re unfazed by the reminder. "So fucking what?! It’s not like you can die twice in a row, asshole!"

He adds a tone of grave severity to his voice while maintaining his unsettling smile. “Then why would I have a gun on me, moron?”

The realisation sinks in. Even though you are dead, you can die. Again. And you can feel pain. What kind of a sick joke is this afterlife? Feeling numbness in your leg, you remember that you were shot and worriedly look downward in an attempt to assess the damage. Crackerjack continues.
“The proper term would be ‘afterdie’, I think, since this is ‘afterlife’. And don’t worry about your leg. What you’re feeling is phantom pain. Being all bones, there’s no bleeding to worry about or anything. Unless I start doing actual bone damage, you can ‘afterlive’ indefinitely.”

This time around, you try to be a bit more collected. You really need some answers and this psycho is willing to share information for some reason. Is he a part of some death bureaucracy?
"Well then... If I'm dead, then how did I end up in your office and why did you shoot me? Just for shits and giggles? Are you the ‘end all, be all’ of Hell's welcoming committee?"

Crackerjack takes off his hat. “Heh, pretty much, yeah. I find it amusing to mess with newly dead. And this isn’t an office. It’s my apartment, as I said.”

2/2 Zmajevit 2016/07/14(Thu)18:07 No. 735852 ID: 9fdb37
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He grabs the chair you’re sitting in and turns it away from the window toward a very ruined couch. Half of it is missing and it seems like parts of it are charred. He sits down, but keeps the gun in plain slight so you can see it. "Why is an asshole like you the first person I meet in the afterlife?"

“Beats me, kid. I think you’re among the unluckiest people to show up in the Underworld in recent years. It’s some shit luck to land in a paranoid asshole’s apartment.” He pauses for a moment, acting as if the insult had no impact on him. “Lighten up, kiddo. No harm done.”

You realise that antagonising him further might be a bad idea. You have no idea just how unstable he really is. But... Maybe he can help you with some general information. You need to learn more about this afterlife shtick. "Sooo...does the fact that everyone looks pretty much identical cause any problems? I mean, the dead are the largest population there's ever been, and we've all got the same face? Or are there more types of undead? Are we all skeletons or are things a bit more...diverse?"

“Heh, blunt. And rude.” He leans forward a bit. “A word of advice, kid. Don’t ever repeat any of that. People can get overly sensitive about such things. ‘Undead’ is what you’d call an abomination that terrorises the living up there. The preferred term is ‘afterliving’. That’s no pun, mind you. And yeah, we’re all bonebags here. Don’t worry, you’ll learn to differentiate people eventually, some more easily than others.”

The more you talk with Crackerjack, the more you begin to wonder about how you got here. “Uh, Crackerjack? Do- do you know how I died? I can’t remember at all. Was it an accident?”

He gives you a strange, but knowing look. “No idea. And there’s no way to know for sure, though the cause of death might be related to the Sight you’ve got. Who knows.” He continues in a more somber tone. “If you think hard enough, you’ll notice you don’t remember lots of things – like the names and faces of your loved ones, for example. You may recall some events, but you’ll never be able to place them. Nobody knows why we suffer memory loss after death, though some theorise that it has something to do with age.” He goes silent again.

This revelation does not sit well with you, but you’re at no capacity to deal with it right now. Mental breakdowns should come later. You change the subject. “You mentioned the Sight before. What is it?”

“It’s how you managed to see me through the blindfold, Vincent. Some newly dead have powers, some more dangerous than others. It’s why I tied you up. It turned out well, though. If you had a more violent power, we wouldn’t be speaking right now. One of us would probably be afterdead. Basically, you can see people through obstacles, for now. As time passes, you’ll probably pick up new tricks for your power.”

Powers. Neat. Hard to believe, but neat. Or is it? He mentioned dangerous ones...
Meanwhile, you notice that Crackerjack is getting more relaxed around you and you around him. Despite the fact that he threatened you and shot...your general vicinity. Perplexed by this, you ask the next question without much thought. “...Does everyone arrive in your apartment?”

The question visibly unsettles him, even though his expression remains unchanged. “...I seriously hope you’re not the beginning of some trend, kid. I worked too much for too long to get this place just to have it turned into a Boneyard.” Crackerjack turns his head away, suddenly preoccupied with some mental calculations.

At some point, he’s going to run out of answers. So you quickly think of an alternative. "Is there some kinda informational pamphlet I can get?"

He turns his attention back to you, his smile vanishing for a moment. “You really don’t grasp the shit you’re in, do you?” Then he smiles even more. “Kid, you’re not supposed to be here. Everyone who dies shows up at a Boneyard, where the clerks register you and assign you to a temporary tenement and an unemployment bureau. You didn’t, which makes you an illegal with no rights whatsoever. You’re literally an anomalous nobody.”

This disturbs you greatly. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this vulnerable before. Before you can inquire further, Crackerjack continues. “In the light of that, I can’t demand money as compensation from you for ruining my couch. Buuut...You can work it off and maybe even come out better for it afterwards.” He grins even harder. “In other words, I’m offering you a job, if you’re not afraid of getting your hands dirty. If you’re wondering why, let’s say I have sympathies towards people who are on the wrong side of the law.”

This day is getting stranger by the minute. What should you do?

Also, here's the discussion thread: http://tgchan.org/kusaba/questdis/res/101408.html

>>735852
A job would be nice, but surely there's some way he can smuggle you into a boneyard so you can be legal?

This barrier between legals and illegals have some disturbing implications, even more than the common ones. If registration is so important that suggest that there are people coming from other place that society have some excuse to discriminate.
So what is the reason for that? Could it be residual prejudice from life? Maybe there are other beings that can come to this place. Ask him about the existence of demons or any non-human inhabitant.

Well if we're going to be illegal either way then we might as well, it's not as if we aren't used to being on the wrong side of the law anyway. Plus, I get the sense that he isn't actually giving us much of a choice. Maybe we can get ourselves later, once we get some connections.

>>735878
Get ourselves registered, I mean.

1/2 Zmajevit 2016/08/14(Sun)07:54 No. 742175 ID: 6ea710
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You’re almost on the verge of accepting Crackerjack’s offer. But then... it dawns on you.

“Wait a minute. Can’t I just go to this Boneyard and register? How hard can it be?”

You catch him off guard with your realisation, wiping the smile off his boney face. Did he really expect you to just say yes to this shady deal of his? You might not be the cleverest of men, but gullible you ain’t.

2/2 Zmajevit 2016/08/14(Sun)08:00 No. 742176 ID: 6ea710
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Before the feeling of smugness even has a chance to properly settle, your ‘host’ bursts into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. He laughs for a minute straight.

“Haaaa, sorry, kid. I don’t remember the last time I laughed this hard. I’d actually tear up if I could.”

He pointlessly wipes the area beneath his left eye socket with the tip of his finger, as if he is really removing a tear from his face. Looking at this mockery of life feels... wrong. Very wrong. And yet, it feels mundane at the same time.

“Listen, Boneyards are notoriously hard to get into once you’re out. Something about preventing outside interference with the newly dead. Basically, protecting people like you from people like me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“New arrivals are easily manipulable when they first materialise due to what’s called ‘deathly displacement’. In layman’s terms, you’re confused as hell when you get here. The powers that be use that to integrate and assimilate your tailbones into society. Makes you less likely to go wacko and start rocking the boat a bit too much.”

“But then...what would be the point of having unregistered people? Shouldn’t they want me in the system?”

“Plausible deniability.” He says matter-of-factly. “Illegals are a valuable commodity in the great scheme of things. You’re often the key to understanding our own afterliving condition. You see, there’s not a lot of volunteers to gamble with their own afterlives. No religions around here to promise you rewards for going out of your way to do good. No point to risk the only existence you have left, especially if it is unending.”

You find this unsettling and instinctively, you demand answers. “What do you mean by that? What do they do with illegals?”

Crackerjack shrugs. “Eh, I don’t know myself exactly. It’s all very hush-hush. In all honesty, most people don’t even know that illegals exist. So, I’m guessing experiments and similar.”

“Hold on. Stuff you’re saying doesn’t add up. It's too crazy. How do I know you’re not trying to manipulate me?”

With that grin of his, he answers with a question. “Who says I’m not?”

The bluntness of the statement throws you off. “What? Why?”

“Plausible deniability. For the job I’m offering. But...if you care that much about getting registered, you could meet my boss.” He pauses for a moment and looks away from you. “Frankly, I think it’s a better deal for you that I forget the loss of my couch and owe you a favour than you owing anything to my boss. For your own sake.”

>>742176
Don't prey on his seeing you one slip.
He's probably bullshitting, and let him know that, but you found the criminal life more interesting than the not criminal so you're in.

>>742186
"Owing you one" sorry. Autocorrect, bleh

>“Wait a minute. Can’t I just go to this Boneyard and register? How hard can it be?”
>“Listen, Boneyards are notoriously hard to get into once you’re out. Something about preventing outside interference with the newly dead. Basically, protecting people like you from people like me.”
So the system put in place to protect and help you is blocking you from the help and protection you need. Swell.

>what do
Maybe we should hear him out on this job offer?