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It has been a super busy year for me, hence my lack of activity on omoorg entirely. Moreover, this particular interactive story started getting very hard to manage with all the numbers to keep tr

@GermanSherperd Now that this game is getting quite tactical, I suppose giving you guys the apartment layout would make sense. Living Room: - Round carpet - 2 couches - 1 dresser (for

I agree with this

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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 3 weeks later...

AAaaaand Im back... finally lol. Hopefully I still remember where all of this left off. 

Target's Bladder Strength: 8                        Target's Self Control: 2                      Player's Influence Level: 11

> Head Back to Deli (65.4469775147929%) (+6.5% and x1.2 from BENAir01, +3% and x1.04 from Maniack, +0.3% from Pilly, +0.4% from OmoLem)

> Just an Animal (34.55302248520711%) (+0.5% from Mydnyght68, +10% and x1.2 from Tali'Zorah, )

Randomizer winner: > Head Back to Deli

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

She stood there bathing in the light from the deli roof, staring, startled, into the dark forest line. Her mind strongly urged her to run back through the door into the deli and hide beside Daniel, and tell him of her fears, but she continued to stand her ground. She couldn't make herself look weak in front of a potential stalker. Instead of going with her better judgement, she continued forward, trying her best to create a facade of bravery to hide her alarmingly increasing fear. Her heart beat at her throat, and breathing was gradually becoming more and more difficult, as if her own body threatened to choke her. As she continued to distance herself from the deli, her beautiful face slowly became engulfed in the blackness of the night. No new sounds came from those bushes, which only served as an extra topping to her terror. If it was an animal in the bushes, surely it would have moved by now and made another sound.

Sarella discreetly slid her hand down her pocket and grasped the knife that she had with her sweaty hand. She fought panic in her mind, knowing that her survival instincts would not lead to any good if she allowed them to take control. Still no sound from the bushes other than the chirping crickets. Eerie is the only word that could possibly describe her surroundings at that moment, though eerie seems to be too light a word. It was more than eerie. It was eerie to the point where Sarella thought that she might start hallucinating or something, possibly start seeing dark figures in front of her. Her sanity has surely gone down low enough for such things to happen. A sudden piercing scream ripped through the silence from behind her. It was a familiar voice. It was Daniels voice. Her heart started up at her throat again. She could barely get herself to turn around, but once she did, horror erupted rapidly within her. Daniel's body was leaned motionless against the window. His skull looked as if it was bashed in, though it was hard to see as the whole window was covered in a large splatter of blood. Daniel was just murdered, and whoever murdered him knew where she was. The light wasn't safe anymore. No one was around. She stood in darkness for a split second, hoping she could die right then and there, and then...

> Broke into a sprint towards her home

> Broke into a sprint towards The Iron Bladder

> Screamed for help

> Prepared to fight

> Don't Intervene

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Target's Bladder Strength: 8                        Target's Self Control: 2                      Player's Influence Level: 11

> To Iron Bladder (91.2925%) (+10% and x1.2 from Tali'Zorah, +0.4% from OmoLem, +0.3% from Pilly)

> Fight! (8.7075%) ()

Randomizer winner: > To Iron Bladder

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Her legs ran faster than her body could keep up and she almost tripped over herself as she sprinted in the opposite direction as far as possible from where horror just took place. The the atmosphere grew sultry, and weighed down on her like a heavy jacket as she sweated nervously. She still hadn't decided where to run. Home was certainly not going to be safe. It was only minutes till curfew, but it seemed to her that it no longer mattered. She was on the kill list either way. 

What about the Iron Bladder? She could run there, that way she wouldn't be alone. Maybe there was no more reason to delay. Maybe it was time to make their move. Maybe finally the long awaited war would begin. She made the decision. The Iron Bladder was only 6 blocks away from where she was now. She had to make it.

The light sound of her footsteps as she flew down the street was the only sound that was present. She heard nothing else, as if everyone had vanished from the world. She had the horrifying feeling that her attacker knew where she was and would jump out and grab her any minute. It began to impinge on her sanity. She was running in the middle of an open street, but that didn't soothe her nerves one bit.

3 blocks away. The Iron Bladder was so close within reach. She prayed under her breath, almost silently, to make it there alive.

2 blocks away. She could hear her own breath now louder than her footsteps. Her energy was becoming depleted. She had to stop, but yet she knew very well that she could not.

1 block away. Her heart beat loudly in her ears as her body desperately tried to supply her with the power she needed to make this last block.

She reached the familiar intersection of Grimer Street and Helson Ave. She took a sharp left from there and then another left dipping into a narrow alleyway. She slowed to a jog, and then to a walk. From there she made sure that not a single sound emanated from her. It was incredibly difficult. She desperately gasped for breath, but knew that if she began huffing in air, she would attract the attention of any threat around her. There was no way that the murderer who killed Daniel would just leave her alone. Even if she did manage to escape him for now, she still had to be cautious. 

She took another right while in the maze of alleyways. In front of her was the entrance to their meeting place which consisted of a long set of descending stairs made of cracked concrete. At the bottom was a dented rusty metal door with peeling green paint. It looked like some basement where people would sniff cocaine or something. To them it was perfect. It repelled most people. No one really bothered to enter the alleyway as it was a very undesirable place to be in. She silently tip toed down the stairs. It was pitch black. The alleyway had no light source. The only thing that allowed her to see anything at all was the small bit of moonlight peeking into the area. Once at the bottom, she balled her hand into a fist and tapped the door lightly, knocking as quietly as possible. She could hear someone walking towards the door on the other side, as well as the voices of her friends.

A false sense of safety overcame her. She was only seconds away from entering the building where no danger could touch her, but then she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. A dark hooded figure appeared atop the stairs. She swung her head to the side and reached swiftly for her knife which still lay in her pocket. The man she saw was holding a baseball bat and had a belt with a set of different kinds of knives and a small handgun on his side. This was definitely the guy who killed Daniel. She recalls his black hood, and the leather jacket with spikes on his shoulders. To her horror, he began slowly descending down the stairs towards her. She had nowhere to run. That's it. It was over. She lost. She was dead. Her skull was about to be cracked open. Holy shit. Fuck Fuck Fuck

"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!!", she cried and banged both fists violently against the door. The sound of footsteps quickened from the other side of the door. Sarella glimpsed to her right. The man was more than halfway to the bottom. She took a step back, pinning herself against the concrete wall behind her, and pulled out her knife for the man to see. "Don't get any closer!", she growled shakily, failing to sound intimidating. She felt a little warmth between her legs as her now bursting bladder took the opportunity to relieve a few drops.

The metal door swung open rapidly and banged against the wall. Michael stepped out from inside. He was the general of the group, in charge of teaching people how to fight, as well as organizing team combat tactics. Out of all the people who could have come out of their basement hideout, he was the one who she wanted to see. Michael instantly spotted the peculiar dark shape approaching intimidatingly towards them.

"Who the fuck are you huh?", Michael barked pulling out his switchblade. He didn't go anywhere without it. When they would talk as a group, Michael would always flip the knife in his hand, and twirl it, and comment how much he wished he could put it to use. Well now his knife had a chance to taste blood. The shadow man continued to proceed forward at a slow pace, unfazed by Michael's presence. Sarella had just begun to calm down slightly, but now fear flowed right back into her veins. The man was now within reach of Michael. 

The man ducked as Michael lunged at him with his blade, and then turned around and swung his baseball bat connecting a hit on the back of Michael's head. Michael grunted in pain, and collapsed onto the ground. Just as he rolled over to face up at his attacker, the man swung his bat again hitting Michael's forehead. A little blood splattered. Sarella watched with her mouth gaping. She was frozen in place. Michael was going to die! She could not make herself move.

"HELP!", she shouted, in hopes of attracting others from inside, and then she ran forth with her knife on the ready. Another hit struck Michael's head and he went unconscious. As the man lifted his bloody bat for a third swing, Sarella jumped onto his back and wrapped her feet and her 1 free hand around him. With her blade in the other hand, she stabbed at his face. She could hear the man's shrill scream as her blade sunk into what she could assume was one of his eyes. He was in pain. This was her chance. She jumped off of his back and then swung her leg kicking him between his legs causing him to bend down. Now was her chance to put her knowledge to use. Michael taught her just the other day how to knock someone out. She swung her hand back preparing for her finishing strike when the man snapped back to reality. He whirled around instantaneously and delivered a hit to her stomach with his bat, this time causing her to bend down and wince in pain. Then she felt a devastating hit on her back and she collapsed down. She was on the ground. This was the worst place to be in a fight, but all she could think about was the immense pain on her back and stomach. She could hear voices approaching from inside their hideout, but then a hit to her head enveloped her in darkness.

***

Oh god, her brain, her skull, her head. The severity of the migraine she was experiencing was beyond that of anything she ever felt before. She was soaked in sweat. Opening her eyes was gonna be too much to bear at the moment so she tried to figure out her surroundings with her remaining 4 senses. The familiar musty smell, and the muffled sound of voices was good to hear. She was alive, and with the Iron Bladder. All of this could have gone much better, but at least she was fine. Then a sudden thought came to her. What about Michael? Was he okay? She would find out soon enough. She tried to lift her body up from the bed but it took so much effort to lift her head that she figured sitting up was outside her abilities. Her hearing was slowly restoring and she could make out the words that were being said. 

"We are compromised no doubt. Whoever that guy was, he was targeting Sarella. He knows, and if he knows, then others know. Its likely that if he had a tracker on him, people know our location. We aren't prepared to fight openly yet. We barely have a following." Sarella could not tell who just spoke. She just listened to the conversation.

"I understand we're all on edge after that. It's the first time we had a physical encounter with the enemy. But there's no need for stress. Stress will only cloud our reasoning." Now this voice she recognized to be Phillip. Phil was famous for his ability to calm others. He was like the psychologist of the group.

"That's great Phil that you think we need to stop stressing but we need to find a solution. We can no longer continue coming here every night after curfew. Our members are no longer safe out there," the first voice responded.

"Honestly I've been suggesting this before and I think its a viable idea. Why don't we just move into this meeting area, or if not here, then somewhere else. We should all live together. If we need to go out, we go out as a group. Of course it won't be safe if everyone just lives alone or walks around alone." This was Tanya. She was one of the head recruiters in the group.

"Its not that easy, but your point isn't entirely invalid. I think we should wait for Michael and Sarella to wake up. Sarella could tell us what the hell happened to her on the way here. We'll think from there. I don't wanna make any decisions without the entire group." From there the gathering dissipated.

To her relief, the migraine was easing up. Moving her eyes, let along opening them, was still a bit too much for her, but she felt better than she did when she just woke up. She heard someone enter the room and sit down on a chair.

"Oh god what is happening anymore. Why would anyone do this to you. I'm so glad you are alive. You don't understand how much I love you." He whispered just loud enough for the two of them to hear. Sarella wasn't sure whether he intended for her to hear that, or if he thought she was asleep. James was such a charming guy, and always a gentleman. Sarella wouldn't mind dating him. She knew that he was in love with her. His heart was in her hands. She liked it when she had control of a guy. Before the country went to shit, she remembered how back when she was younger, there was this guy named Steven who had a crazy crush on her. It was so easy to get him to do favors for her that sometimes she didn't even have to ask. She never dated him though, so she felt kinda bad for using him.

"Sarella, you're awake! How are you feeling?" asked James. Though Sarella could swear she didn't move any part of her body, James somehow figured she was awake. He leaned over her bed from where he sat and ran his fingers through her hair. She wanted to respond to him and say she was okay, but when attempting to say something, she only managed to get out a frail groan. "Alright, I won't bother you. Feel better," and with that he left the room, shutting the door on his way out. 

As her body began to come to it's senses, her bladder awoke as well. She needed to pee, and badly. Their hideout had a stolen porta potty that they brought over a while ago, but it was unfortunately a couple rooms away from her. Even if it was beside her, she still had some time to wait before she could manage to get up and walk. Its strange how a hard hit on the stomach, back, and head is enough to make you feel like some disabled vegetable. She was kind of annoyed that her bladder decided to join in on making her feel discomforted. He head was doing the job well enough. Honestly she was thinking about just relieving herself in bed. No, it wasn't worth it. Cleaning up would be a pain since they didn't have a washing machine and it would go against everything they stand for.

She wasted another 10 minutes doing nothing and decided that she was a strong survivor, and if she was going to get through this revolution, she could at least manage to lift herself out of bed. She jolted her body forward, managing to sit up, but her vision began to quickly fill up with stars and dizziness swirled in her mind. She collapsed right back into bed. Alright, fine. If her body refused, she had no reason to force it.

***

Unaware how, she managed to fall asleep for another 30 minutes despite her alarmingly full bladder. She was surprised that the bed was dry after that nap. Perhaps all her training with the Iron Bladder did make her stronger. Her headache had practically vanished. Only her stomach and back still sent her pain signals, though not nearly as severe as before the nap. Sleep is magical.

She sat up slowly this time to not overwhelm her feeble self, and before long, she got up onto her feet pretty successfully. She felt like she achieved something great by getting out of bed. It felt stupid to her how something so trivial could feel rewarding. She limped out of the room, dragging her feet more than lifting them. Michael was already sitting with everyone else in their so called "living room". She was kind of surprised. Michael was beat a lot harder than her. It appears men recover faster.

She was greeted with smiles and nice words as she approached their half-circle of couches. "How'd you sleep Sarella, you alright?", asked James. Not a surprise he was first to express concern. Sarella chuckled hoarsely. "Yeah. I feel much better now."

"Come sit down. Have some water. We were waiting for you to wake up so we can all talk," said Phil. Sarella sat down beside James and waited for someone to say something. She didn't have the strength or interest to think of how to start a conversation so she would rather respond to questions. 

There were 5 of them in the "living room". It turns out they first wanted to talk without others, and then meet up with everyone and discuss plans. Sarella told them her whole story, of how Daniel was murdered, and how she ran, and how she and Michael fought the murderer. Then they told Sarella that they actually took the murderer hostage and that once he wakes up, they would interrogate him. 

Alright. Her bladder made it clear that it no longer wanted to be ignored. She had to go relieve herself. They just finished talking and announced that they would have a meeting with everyone in 20 minutes. Perfect amount of time to take a piss, wash her face and hands, and brush her hair. 

> Influence: Remind her of her thirst.

> Influence: Remind her of her hunger.

> Influence: Make her forget her bathroom need.

> "The kitchen is closer than the porta potty. Maybe Ill go see whats there first."

> "But I don't wanna get up from this soft couch. Ill just relax a little more."

> "I still don't feel as good. Perhaps another nap might help"

> "Maybe peeing myself won't be thaat bad."

> Don't intervene

 

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