All posts by Freelancer Tucker

Axel Walker had woken up late.

Not a strange occurrence in of itself, he had always fashioned himself as a nocturnal creature, one that had little use for early mornings or even late afternoons. Sleep was anyone's best friend, but he would marry the mere concept of it if he could, of course that would make it a coma which was an entirely different subject. Axel's internal clock had just never ticked and tocked in the ways others had, and it was a fact he had embraced about himself, some whackjob or another had always said to love one's own unsolvable flaws, so he did unabashedly. Of course, that was before he was required to attend school.

His alarmed blared to life beside him as Axel blinked away the tight hold sleep had cast upon him. His eyes barely taking in the morning light filtering through his drawn curtains before closing once more. It'd be easy to miss the first day, while he didn't have much in the way of friends (who needed them?), he could pocket some change and cloister away in an arcade or movie theater until he had officially missed his first day.

Yes, it was the perfect plan. Until he felt a stab of guilt deep within his stomach.

It was a recent phenomenon, one that had come after his poor mother was dragged in court to help answer for his petty crimes, crying and adamant in keeping her soon out of ARGUS containment, she had brokered a plea with the judge to get him into Pyle Academy. His "last chance" the old judge had said, swinging their gavel around as if it meant anything to him, it didn't, but it meant the universe to his 'ma, and that meant he would power through it.

So, he hefted himself out of bed, searching around the cluttered recesses of his room for the stuffy grey uniform he was meant to wear. A quick shower and a decision not to mess with the feng-shui that his hair had managed to attain at some point, and he was stuffing himself inside it, wondering just why a kid his age had to tie a tie, he felt like a monkey. And not in any good way.

However, the moment he stepped outside of his room, almost made the sheer embarrassment worth it.

"Oh my, I didn't know we had such a handsome gentleman among us." Rey Walker commented on her son's appearance, a smile gracing her tired face. "Doesn't he look good in a suit, Finn?"

"Yeah," Finn 'Chuck' Lane responded with a hearty nod. Looking up from the paper he was reading to give his step-son a look over. He was alright as father figures went, didn't seem to do much, always preoccupied by work. Still, he supported his 'ma, and that was good enough for Axel. "grey looks a little plain."

"That's what I was saying!" Axel exclaims, tugging on his color. "It's needs a little color."

"Well, I think it looks wonderful." Rey warned her spouse and child sternly. "Are you not taking a backpack with you?"

"No, today's just orientation." Axel lied despite his views towards the school and what meant for his family, like hell was he going to be carrying around a heavy bag all day. Everything he needed already fit perfectly into his pockets as is. "Which I should be getting to. Finn, can you drive me?"

"Oh, 'course." Finn got up off the couch, giving Rey a quick peck on the cheek. "I should be heading out myself anyways."

"Don't get into any trouble you too, I'm making something special for dinner tonight!"" She called out to them as they walked out of the house, piling into Finn's small car.

They arrived at the academy's gates far sooner than Axel would have hoped, a long line of other parents dropping off their students by car already formed. It was exactly as bad as he imagined. How he wished he never blew up those toilets to earn himself that third strike. Life would have been much simpler.

"Wish me luck, Finn. I'm going in." Axel opened the car door, pausing for a moment to fully grasp the gravity of his situation. He stepped out and closed the door behind him, missing Finn's well wishes while the man was soon swept up in the snail-pace traffic.

Axel was truly alone now. He took a deep breath before finally walking the gates, his only comfort being the small rounded cherry bombs stuffed in his pockets, the presence helping him to keep moving forward despite the burning need to run.

>Try to hide the bacon before she can see it and act casual

You quickly go to intercept your roommate before she can reach the kitchen and see your food-thieving ways. Remembering to turn off the stove to avoid burning down your apartment complex in a grease fire, because that was definitely not something you could wiggle out of with an apology and an offer of food.

>distract her from YOUR delicious foodstuffs by giving her that one cinnamon pancake you made before finding the bacon.

Speaking of, you do take her the one pancake you had made prior to making the batch that would be your breakfast. It lacked any incriminating bacon bits within.

You end up bumping into her just as you round the corner. The plate almost slipping from your grasp. You fumble for it, managing to keep both pancake and plate from dropping to the floor and ruining your only chance at buttering your roommate up.

Said roommate only stares at you through half-lidded eyes, either unsure of what she's seeing or contemplating leaving you to your clumsy fate. She yawns, rubbing at one of her eyes to wipe away the sleep still lingering there. "Maka, what are you doing up so early?"

"I was making us breakfast," You declare, presenting the sole pancake to her with a flourish. It was cold by this point, but your roommate still accepts the plate. She frowns at the meager offering.

"You didn't bring me a fork," She raises an eyebrow, he inquisitive tone worrying you. However, she soon picks up the pancake and folds it into a taco shape, taking a small bite. "Or syrup."

"Oh, I wasn't sure what you wanted." You lie effortlessly, or so you think "I'm still making another batch, so we could eat those properly...When they're done."

"Right, maybe I should go help you with that." She passes the half-eaten plate back to you, moving towards the kitchen.

>Then ask your roommate for advice with your situation using the cheesy "hypothetically speaking, if..." routine.

"Wait, Rosa!" You call her name as you grab her shoulder with your free hand to prevent her from going any further, pulling her softly back towards you. She complies rather easily, only letting out an exhausted sigh.

"What is it?" She asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I, uh. I wanted to talk to you about something else."

She makes a motion with her hands for you to continue.

"See, hypothetically speaking, what if I had a nightmare last night? And that's kinda why I'm awake right now?" You avoid talking about the texts. It didn't seem like the right time to bring that up, you weren't really sure when they would be appropriate to bring up.

Rosa rolls her eyes, bringing you into hug that's extremely tight and almost makes you drop the plate again. Her tone is more gentle and soothing however, and despite the lack of oxygen, it helps you relax. "Then I would say I'm not too mad you used my bacon for breakfast, and that I'll help cook the rest so we can get the day started properly."

You smile as soon as she releases you and you can breathe again.  It was a small price to pay to avoid any admonishment for comfort eating. Having a nice calm breakfast sounded great.

Maybe this day wouldn't be so bad after all.

5:43 A.M.

>First things first, make yourself some breakfast, preferably pancakes.

You are quite hungry now that you think about it, a remnant of a childhood spent waking up to family breakfasts before school. Your mom always made the best pancakes, sometimes with blueberries or chocolate chips inside. Just thinking about the meals of your past is enough to make you salivate.

>Go to kitchen, make bacon pancakes

Patting your grumbling stomach lightly, you brave the dark hallway to reach the small kitchen in your home. Barely the size of a walk-in cupboard, it was 'economic' as your roommate tried to spin it, when you both really knew it was a fire hazard in the making. Still, to whip up some nice fluffy pancakes, it would do nicely.

As you pick through your conjoined foodstuffs, you also happen to see a pack of bacon that your roommmate must have picked up. The label on them promises at least 60% Soylant meat, whatever that means. While it wasn't exactly an ingredient in your mother's rather decadent breakfasts-es, turning your meal into something both sweet and savory was tempting. Surely, your roommmate wouldn't miss a strip or four. You quickly get to work on your breakfast.

>Remember the cinnamon too

As you prepare the pancake batter and cook up the stolen strips of bacon, you remember to find the cinnamon shaker. It wouldn't be a Cineris breakfast without just a hint of cinnamon permeating through everything.

The smell must have woken your roommate as you hear movement from the room beside yours.

5:29 A.M.

>Shrug it off as a prank and get out of bed

Of course it's a prank, it has to be, you were silly for even entertaining the thought it could be something else. Someone was going to get an earful from you for trying to scare you like that. For the time being, you toss your phone beside you, forgetting the messages still on the screen. You give a yawn as you finally get out of bed.

Mindful of the darkness, you make your way towards the light switch and flip it on. Your room is soon alit, and you can view the various oddities cluttering your living space.

As was previously mentioned, your name is Maka, and you've been awoken by a BAD DREAM. Your ROOMMATE still snores soundly in the next room over. You have a variety of INTERESTS. You have a passion for REALLY TERRIBLE MOVIES. You like to draw but you are NOT VERY GOOD AT IT. You have a fondness for PARANORMAL LORE, and are an aspiring COLLEGE STUDENT. You also like to play STRATEGY GAMES sometimes.

What will you do?

5:07 A.M.

>Replies to the message. "Who's this?"

You type out a quick reply, wanting to know just who you were dealing with. Honestly, if it was one of your friends playing a prank, you would be simultaneously livid and relieved.

"Who is this?"

It takes a couple minutes for the number to respond, your phone buzzes in your hand with a fresh message. Which you quickly read.

"A messenger -Don't shoot me."

Furrowing your brow in further perplexion, you decide to play along with the strangeness of the conversation. You still hug your knees close to your chest, unsure if the answer you will receive would meld well with being in the dark.

"Messenger for who?"

The number responds faster than you have time to look away from the screen.

"Blind prophets -They've seen 743 end"

You have no idea what is even happening right now.

5:05 A.M.

>Check the time on the phone.

You decide to take a peek at the time while you have your phone on-hand, rather than risk burning red lines into your vision with a look at your digital clock. On the tiny corner of your home screen, you can see that the hour has just rolled over, going from 4:59 A.M to 5:00 AM. Judging by the general darkness of your room, the sun has yet to rise, and the day has yet to start.

The message from the unknown number is still in your inbox, it's purpose still preplexing to you, your fingers linger over both the reply and delete options. The snores of your roommate can still be heard, it might not be a bad idea to show her or just have another person awake at such an early hour.

((From now on, the current time in-game will be shown on the bottom of every game post. Think of this as a tutorial and prologue. Every action burns time away, larger actions requiring longer stretches of spent time to complete. For now, make it to 6 AM.))

5:00 A.M.

>pick up your phone and read the message

You crawl over your large bed towards your buzzing phone, you had forgotten to take it out of your last worn pair of pants, which lay on the ground just at the foot of your bed (you're not that neat of a person when you're tired). You reach down to the infinite void that was your carpeted floor in the dark to try and fish them out. If you were younger, you'd be terrified, as it were you still are, but not because of any boogymen that happened to be in wait.

It takes a couple tries, but soon enough you're successful in retrieving your pants. Which get unceremoniously thrown back onto the floor, as you pull the small grey square from the back pocket. You push the power button, only to be momentarily blinded by the newly awakened light that is your home screen.

Your eyes adjust slowly, but you remember how to get to your messages through touch alone. When you can finally see, you open the sole message in your inbox, it's from a number you don't immediately recognize, but you are prone to forgetting quite a bit. So it could be someone you had met yesterday.

"2 Days. -End of Line."

You can't help but feel confused and somewhat creeped out.