ok, i'm gonna post, 'cause it's a weekend.

~~

PRANK==>

Yeah, pranks are the traditional thing to do during sleepovers, you think? You look blasely around the room. Wren is snoring on a couch beside you, and Alex is on a mat to the side of the room. You're gonna get 'em good.

You creep up out of your mat. You're wearing a pair of athletic shorts, and you put on a t-shirt. It says THE ASSIGNED SNAILS SUCK. That's a band, you think? Maybe? Anyway, PRANK TIME!

You're going to pour water on their heads. 

That's it.

That's the prank.

You creep out into a dark hallway. You walk on tiptoes out into the kitchen, where you hear water running, and someone humming. Somebody's up, you guess. You glance out into the kitchen, and see Aberdeen. His arm is in a sling, and with the other, he seems to be shifting and rotating a plastic bin beneath the faucet. He pauses occasionally to add dish soap to the bin, creating many soap bubbles.

He places a hand in the bubbles, rubbing them and lather them on his face. He pulls out a razor and begins shaving his face, slowly, methodically. There is no mirror, so he takes off his reflective glasses and looks into them. You have the distinct, uncomfortable feeling that you're witnessing something you shouldn't be.

Sam: You should come on out, dude. 

Awkward!

What do you say? 

ok, so the reason i'm so tired is that the musical i'm in is opening this week, so don't expect a part this week, sorry. generally i'm pretty good at balancing my time between personal projects and schoolwork, but i'm so tired right now, and i can't compromise my school work for my Funny Text Adventure, as much as i'd like to. things will be easier in about a week. sit tight, you've been very patient and i'm honestly really grateful.

i recently lost someone who was very close to me. i'm doing some counseling, and it turns out i just generally don't take good care of myself. i'd probably just try to keep writing, but i need to take care of myself, etc. 

in more pleasant news, i'm seventeen now :>

just sit tight! i've put tooo much work into this project to even consider abandoning it, so don't worry about that. 

yo, im back

~~

APOLOGIZE==>

You step out of the dark hallway and into the sparsely lit kitchen. Aberdeen is leaning up against the sink. He hastily puts his sunglasses on. His expression isn't upset, or amused, or anything, really. It's completely stoic. You resist the bubbling desire to grin sheepishly and shrug like a mime performing an elaborate apology.

YOU: I am very sorry for watching you, Aberdeen.

Sam: Nah, It's fine, dude. What's a little creeping and peeping between us?

YOU: What do you mean?

Sam: Look, when there was only one set of footprints, that was you, carrying me, while I wept like a child. And... No, sorry, I'm so tired, I can't make a good joke. Sorry.

YOU: Still, I feel like I should apologize. I'm... Inclined toward staring, which makes others uncomfortable. 

Sam: It's utterly "cool," dude. Again, you carried me for like, a whole hour, remember? I think we’re at a point now where a little staring can be forgiven.

YOU: Thank you, Aberdeen. 

You and Sam stand around in the kitchen. He abruptly realizes the sink is still running, and he turns it off. He clears his throat and looks at you. Or you think he does. You already have trouble reading expressions, the reflective sunglasses just make it that much harder.

Sam: So… You couldn’t sleep either?

YOU: I suppose not. Too excited.

Sam: Excited?

YOU: Sleepovers are… A new thing for me.

Sam: Well geez, we’ll sort that out for you. The girls are literally incapable of going, like, one week without one. You’ll get plenty, man.

You nod, resisting the urge to shriek with joy.’

Sam: Me, I couldn’t sleep ‘cause… Well… 

He clears his throat again, and you watch as he draws his expression of discomfort into the same, stoic, flat face. He looks up at you, and even with the sunglasses, you can tell he’s hoping you didn’t notice. You’re careful not to reveal that you did with any of your mannerisms.

Sam: Well… I dunno. My dad always told me I was special. And, he’s the mayor, y’know? I’m sure every kid’s parents tell them they’re special, but my dad has this way about him where he just makes you believe it. Whatever it is he’s saying.

You nod again.

Sam: I dunno. I figured out I totally was special, and y’know, destined for greatness and all. And it kicked my butt, man. I got a broken arm. Can’t close my eyes without seeing that big eye. Can’t sleep without hearing that thing laughing. Having a stereotypical breakdown, which sucks, cause I can see all the cliches, as they happen. I can’t sleep, man. 

YOU: Well, maybe sleepovers are the right way to go then. We’re all together, and so we can all help you if things get too rough.

Sam: Yeah, there’s another reason too. 

YOU: Do tell.

Sam: There’s… A little alien.

YOU: I see.

Sam: His name is Hastur, and he’s a little alien, and I HATE HIM. And every time I go to sleep, I dream about him. And I try to kill him, but somehow he always gets away. 

YOU: Interesting dream…

Sam: Oh, no! It’s not a dream! Yeah, he’s real! Diana used to see him too! He made that clone of her, Antimony? I think he’s been cloning me too…

SHIFT GEARS==>

You decide what this poor guy needs is a distraction. A distraction that, conveniently, benefits you. You make your best persuasive face, mouth approaching a smile, eyebrows in little acute angles. 

YOU: Aberdeen, I have a question to ask you.

Sam: Okay, cool, yeah. Me too.

YOU: Oh, you ask first. Mine is kind of silly.

Sam: Well, mine too. I just wanted to know why you exclusively refer to me with my last name.

YOU: Respect for your elevated status. 

Sam: Ugh… Dude, yeah, my dad’s the mayor, but I’m just a nepo baby. There’s seriously nothing elevated about my status. Like, at all.

YOU: Your neposity was not factored into my opinion. I just think you’re cool.

Sam: … Really?

YOU: Yes.

Sam: Are you messing with me?

YOU: No. Mister Aberdeen, you could be, in my opinion, described as being “too legit to quit.” 

Sam: Huh. Thanks, man. You’re pretty cool too.

He smiles at you, and you smile back.

YOU: Wanna help me pour water on our friends?

Sam: Yeah, okay. 

Who do you start with?

 whoa, a drawing? sick, i can't wait!

~~ 

GET 'EM ALL==>

You consider your options, and decide that getting water on all of them at the same time would probably be the best. And the funniest. Of course, Diana and Antimony are in a separate room from Alex and Wren, but you have a second hand on your side.  

YOU: Okay, fill that plastic bin with water.

Sam: Yessir.

YOU: Probably empty it out first.

Sam: Okay boss. 

You move over to a shelf, where you get out a pitcher, the sort used for lemonade or whatever else.

Sam: So, if you don’t mind me asking… What are we doing something that will alienate and enrage our closest friends? 

YOU: A funny voice in my brain told me to do it.

Sam: Nnnoted… 

YOU: Yeah, it feels like my brain has, like, a copilot. Telling me to do stuff you know, but not in a bad way. Just, like, helping me out. 

Sam: Huh. Probably some sort of magic-type-thing. 

YOU: Yes, or maybe I’m going crazy. That’s the freaky part, how would you even tell? 

Sam: Weird. I think Diana mentioned that happening for a while. I dunno. Maybe the hair dye is leaking into her brain. 

YOU: Okay, is your bin full? 

Sam: Sure is, boss.

YOU: Excellent.

He moves the bin over to a nearby counter, and you fill the pitcher with cold, clear water. You nod to Sam, and the two of you walk down the hallway.

Do you want to get:

>Alex and Wren

>Diana and Antimony

top

ALEX AND WREN==>

You're walking up toward the room you slept in, with Alex and Wren in it. Something tells you Diana's first reaction to being splashed will likely be violence. You'd rather stay out of that. You glance at a wall beside you. There's something very odd about seeing photos of a person's family members as children, odder still because you've never met most of them.  

There's a photo of Alex and Wren's grandfather, a little younger in that his skin looks less grey and his hair less sparse, but still old-looking. He isn't smiling, and there are four girls sitting with him. They look to be around your age. Three of them look very similar, both to each other, and the man. Only one of the four is smiling. There is also a fourth girl, with dark skin and less brittle features. She isn't smiling, and unlike the rest of them she isn't wearing glasses. An adoptive daughter?

Moving a little further down the hallway is a small, warped black-and-white photo of what is recognizably a much young Hawthorne Grandfather and a woman wearing a sun hat. The photo is badly marked, with age and possibly water damage, but the two appear to be standing on a pier of some sort. The Hawthorne Grandfather isn't smiling, but he looks more nervous than sour. The woman is smiling widely and clasping his hand. She has round, cheerful features, and a long scar on her face. You think at first that she must be Alex and Wren's grandmother, but she doesn't resemble them at all. Hm. 

That's enough snooping for now, probably. There is work to be done. Wet work.

YOU: Yo, Aberdeen.

Sam: Yo, Peixoto. 

YOU: ...

Sam: Yes?

YOU: ...you said my line.

Sam: Oh, uh, my bad?

YOU: Anyway! I'm going to get Alex and Wren. You get Diana and Antimony. Capische? 

Sam: Yeah, ok.

He nods at you, awkwardly shuffling his tub down the hall toward the room Diana and Antimony were in. You turn to the door into Wren and Alex's room, technically Alex's, you think. You open it and slink in, pitcher in hand. The room is an ugly yellow inside, clear now in the morning light.  Wren is still on the couch, and Alex on his mat. Nobody is on the bed. It was meant for Sam, you think. You're gonna be able to get both of them at the same time. It's gonna rock.

Suddenly you hear screaming from the next room over. It shocks you at first, but then you realize Sam probably just doused them. Except...

Except you hear Sam screaming too.

What do you do? 

WAKE THEM UP, DUH==>

You rear back your pitcher of cold water, privately at least a little pleased with the presence of a valid explanation for your actions. You send an arc of the liquid careening into your friends. Wren opens her eyes and yelps like a small animal. Understandable. Alex jumps to his feet, clearly ready for conflict, and he yells a word you had yet to hear spoken aloud. Yeesh. But yeah, both of them are up now.

Wren: What the h- The heck. Dude. I'm soaked. Why, man.  

YOU: We seem to be in trouble. There's a commotion in the room beside us. 

Alex: A commotion? What could be the cause? Say, you didn't happen to POUR WATER ON THEM?!

YOU: No-

You reconsider.

YOU: Well, possibly, but it sounds worse than just that. 

Wren: Well. Then let's go investigate.

Alex: Ughhh, you go investigate. I'm gonna just... see if I can sleep in a pool of water. 

Wren:... Alex.

Alex: Whaaaaattttt....

Wren: You can't just abandon us on adventures because you feel tired. We need your help.

Alex: Yeah, you're right. I'm cranky. I'm a cranky guy. I was sleeping for like, the first time in weeks, and then this FREAK POURED WATER ON ME.

YOU: It was the only way.

Wren: It was demonstrably not.

That's true. You and your irritated compatriots leave the room, Wren in a soaked bathrobe, and Alex with a wet blanket wrapped around himself like a cloak. You walk toward the other room, which has the door slightly open, and a strange green light coming out of it. You slowly open it, and see Diana, wearing a black tank top and shorts, brandishing a cot rack, and Sam standing in a corner.

Antimony is floating above a bed, eyes open and glowing green. Latent Seer abilities, you guess. Her teeth are bared in an inhuman smile, and the voice she speaks in matches the crazed expression. A nasally, warped sounding scream is rising from her with every word, but everything she says sounds monotonous, with no inflection.

CATCH!!!==>

Antimony snaps out of her trance, and stops freestyling emo poetry. As she falls, you rush forward to grab her, which isn't that difficult, even though she isn't quite as freakishly scrawny as Aberdeen. You're good at carrying people. It's a skill of yours. As you catch her, you hope that maybe it will allow Wren to forgive you for your watery misdeeds.

Wren: Antimony! Are you okay?

Antimony: Bwuuuuhhh?

YOU: Can you hear us?

Antimony: Yeah... It is very bright. 

Diana: You were prophesying again.

YOU: ... Is this a common event?

Sam: Yeah, what?

Antimony clears her throat, using her arms to pull herself into a sitting position. She almost topples over, and wren rushes over to stabilize her.

Antimony: Thank you, Wren. 

Wren: I mean, of course.

Antimony: Tracy, the answer to your question is a resounding "kind of." It seems to be a side effect of when I "Awakened." I cannot control it, I am afraid. I have been prophesying far more often than someone who never prophesies, but not exactly nightly. That said, I rarely sleep, so perhaps I would have more visions if I did.

Wren: Yeah, Antimony, you and Deen and I need to have a conversation about your Mountain Dew intake. I'm seriously getting scared for both of you, and your sleep cycles. And your livers.

Diana: The sleep cycle bit is probably because of our war-style flashbacks.

Antimony: Possibly Post-Truamatic stress.

Wren: Aw, dude.... :(

Diana: Fair point with the livers. 

Sam raises his hand, realizes he isn't in class, and sheepishly puts it down.

Sam: Hey, guys. Sorry, but, I dunno if I was the only one listening to the posessed ranting, but it sounded... Bad. Like, both cosmically and personally bad. I mean, I think the first Six it referenced were just, y'know, random predecessors, and the others were, like, the kids your Grandpa was talking about, but... It was totally talking about us at the end, right? 

Alex: Yeah, I think so?

Sam: So, we're just... Doomed?

Alex: Maybe. Does it matter?

Sam: H... How could it not?  

Alex: 'Cause we'll still do what we were always going to. Our best. For humanity, or whatever else. I mean, what else would we do? Let the world end?

Wise words from the pissy little guy.  It's very bright now, and you're all up. It's a brand new day, full of potential

What do you do?