When The Sun Rises

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<<set $name to "">><<set $lastname to "">><<set $name2 to "">><<set $gender to "">><<set$they to "">><<set $They to "">><<set $them to "">><<set $Them to "">><<set $their to "">><<set $Their to "">><<set $theirs to "">><<set $themself to "">><<set $Theyre to "">><<set $skin_colour to "">><<set $eye to "">><<set $Eye to "">><<set $height to "">><<set $height_no to "">><<set $hair_length to "">><<set $hair_colour to "">><<set $hair_texture to "">><<set $hair_style to "">><<set $short_hair to false>><<set $has_have to "">><<set $is_are to "">><<set $woman to false>><<set $man to false>><<set $nonbinary to false>><<set $meet_rivka to false>><<set $meet_enoch to false>><<set $meet_n to false>><<set $nikolai_vasiliev to false>><<set $natasha_vasilyeva to false>><<set $friendly to "50">><<set $hostile to "50">><<set $cautious to "50">><<set $impulsive to "50">><<set $physical to "100">><<set $progress to "0">><<set $rivka_romance to "0">><<set $enoch_romance to "0">><<set $n_romance to "0">><<set $death_hour_seventeen to false>><<set $death_three_hours to false>><<set $death_five_hours to false>><<set $death_time to "">><<set $side_effects to "Unknown">><<set $head_shot to false>><<set $slit_throat to false>><<set $broken_neck to false>><<set $death_cause to "">><<set $n_name to "">><<set $n_nickname to "">><<set $n_lastname to "">><<set $n_they to "">><<set $n_They to "">><<set $n_them to "">><<set $n_Them to "">><<set $n_their to "">><<set $n_Their to "">><<set $n_theirs to "">><<set $n_themself to "">><<set $n_Theyre to "">> <<nobr>><center><h1>When The Sun Rises</h1></center> ''when the sun rises'' is an action filled interactive novel. it will contain depictions of violence, graphic language and other adult content. reader discretion is advised. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">show me the warning list.</div>' 'warning list'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">take me to the story.</div>' 'set up'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

yeehaw! here's a longer passage just to test out the scrolling function. $testingvar Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ultricies tristique nulla aliquet enim tortor at. Consequat ac felis donec et odio pellentesque diam volutpat commodo. Mauris cursus mattis molestie a iaculis at erat. Ac odio tempor orci dapibus ultrices in. Pellentesque sit amet porttitor eget dolor morbi. Pulvinar mattis nunc sed blandit libero volutpat sed. Enim nunc faucibus a pellentesque sit amet. Accumsan sit amet nulla facilisi morbi tempus iaculis urna id. Dignissim enim sit amet venenatis urna cursus. Pulvinar mattis nunc sed blandit libero volutpat sed. Enim nunc faucibus a pellentesque sit amet. Accumsan sit amet nulla facilisi morbi tempus iaculis urna id. Vulputate sapien nec sagittis aliquam malesuada bibendum arcu. Lectus mauris ultrices eros in cursus turpis massa tincidunt dui. Sit amet volutpat consequat mauris nunc congue nisi vitae. Et molestie ac feugiat sed lectus. Est pellentesque elit ullamcorper dignissim cras tincidunt lobortis. Risus nec feugiat in fermentum posuere urna. Lectus mauris ultrices eros in cursus turpis massa tincidunt dui. Erat imperdiet sed euismod nisi. Elementum sagittis vitae et leo duis ut diam quam. Luctus accumsan tortor posuere ac ut consequat. Tortor posuere ac ut consequat semper viverra nam. Fringilla urna porttitor rhoncus dolor purus non enim praesent elementum. Amet risus nullam eget felis eget nunc lobortis mattis aliquam. Velit euismod in pellentesque massa placerat duis ultricies lacus sed. Eget nunc scelerisque viverra mauris in.

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<<link '<div class="menu-item"><b>00</b> go back</div>'>><<run Engine.backward()>><</link>> <<link '<div class="menu-item"><b>01</b> restart game</div>' 'home'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="menu-item"><b>02</b> profile</div>' 'profile'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="menu-item"><b>03</b> saves</div>'>><<script>>UI.saves()<</script>><</link>> <<link '<div class="menu-item"><b>04</b> settings</div>'>><<script>>UI.settings()<</script>><</link>>

WHEN THE SUN RISES | ALLI

<<nobr>> <center><h1>autopsy</h1></center> <center><h1>report</h1></center> <center><h2>$name $lastname</h2></center> <div class="list"> <div class="list-item">''Age:'' Unknown</div> <div class="list-item">''Physical Appearance:'' $Eye eyes; $hair_colour hair that's $hair_length and $hair_texture; $skin_colour skin</div> <div class="list-item">''Cause of Death:'' <<if $head_shot is true>>Bullets to the head<</if>><<if $slit_throat is true>>Slit throat<</if>><<if $broken_neck is true>>Broken neck<</if>></div> <div class="list-item">''Time of Death:'' $death_time</div> <div class="list-item">''Side Effects:'' $side_effects</div> </div><</nobr>> <<nobr>> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Physical Health $physical%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right"></div> <div class="stat-bar" id="physicalstat"></div> </div></div> <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">relationships</div>' 'relationships'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">return to game</div>' $return>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $meet_rivka is true>><center><h1>Rivka Mizrahi</h1></center> <center><h2>The Necromancer</h2></center> <center><img src="images/rivka.png"></center> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP $rivka_romance%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right"></div> <div class="stat-bar" id="rivkarom-stat"></div> </div></div> <center>''Rivka'' is the kindly stranger that brings you back to life and takes you in. Moreover, she decides to help you find whoever is after you.</center> <center>She is 29 years old and has light brown skin, dark wavy hair and green eyes. She stands at 5'6 and has a plus size body type.</center> <</if>> <<if $meet_enoch is true>><center><h1>Enoch Pembroke</h1></center> <center><h2>The Rookie Cop</h2></center> <center><img src="images/enoch.png"></center> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP $enoch_romance%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right"></div> <div class="stat-bar" id="enochrom-stat"></div> </div></div> <center>''Enoch'' is an officer fresh out of the academy, hopeful of making the city a safer place. Though a bit naive and gullible at times, his in depth knowledge of the city is of the utmost value to you and and he's good with a weapon.</center> <center>He is 27 years old and has tan skin, messy brown hair, hazel eyes and well groomed facial hair. He stands at 5'11 and has an athletic build.</center> <</if>> <<if $meet_n is true>><<if $nikolai_vasiliev is true>><center><h1>Nikolai Vasiliev</h1></center> <center><h2>The Hitman</h2></center> <center><img src="images/nikolai.png"></center><</if>> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP $n_romance%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right"></div> <div class="stat-bar" id="nrom-stat"></div> </div></div> <center>''Nikolai'' is the hitman that's been sent to kill you after the last one failed miserably. Though he's unsure of why you're still standing, he's never failed a job before and he'll stop at nothing until you're six feet under.</center> <center>He is 30 years old and has fair skin, shaggy black hair, blue eyes and a permanent five o'clock shadow. He stands at 6'2 and has a muscular build. He has a Russian accent and is fluent in Russian, Italian, English as well as a little bit of French.</center> <</if>> <<if $meet_n is true>><<if $natasha_vasilyeva is true>><center><h1>Natasha Vasilyeva</h1></center> <center><h2>The Hitwoman</h2></center> <center><img src="images/natasha.png"></center><</if>> <div class="stat-bar-group"> <div class="stat-bar-container"> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP $n_romance%</div> <div class="stat-bar-overlay-right"></div> <div class="stat-bar" id="nrom-stat"></div> </div></div> <center>''Natasha'' is the hitwoman that's been sent to kill you after the last one failed miserably. Though she's unsure of why you're still standing, she's never failed a job before and she'll stop at nothing until you're six feet under.</center> <center>She is 30 years old and has fair skin, shaggy black hair and blue eyes. She stands at 6'2 and has a muscular build. She has a Russian accent and is fluent in Russian, Italian, English as well as a little bit of French.</center> <</if>> <</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">return to game</div>' $return>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $name to "">> <<set $lastname to "">> <<set $name2 to "">> <<set $gender to "">> <<set $they to "">> <<set $They to "">> <<set $them to "">> <<set $Them to "">> <<set $their to "">> <<set $Their to "">> <<set $theirs to "">> <<set $themself to "">> <<set $Theyre to "">> <<set $skin_colour to "">> <<set $eye to "">> <<set $Eye to "">> <<set $height to "">> <<set $height_no to "">> <<set $hair_length to "">> <<set $hair_colour to "">> <<set $hair_texture to "">> <<set $hair_style to "">> <<set $short_hair to false>> <<set $has_have to "">> <<set $is_are to "">> <<set $woman to false>> <<set $man to false>> <<set $nonbinary to false>> <<set $meet_rivka to false>> <<set $meet_enoch to false>> <<set $meet_n to false>> <<set $nikolai_vasiliev to false>> <<set $natasha_vasilyeva to false>> <<set $m_pierce to false>> <<set $f_pierce to false>> <<set $friendly to "50">> <<set $hostile to "50">> <<set $cautious to "50">> <<set $impulsive to "50">> <<set $physical to "100">> <<set $progress to "0">> <<set $rivka_romance to "0">> <<set $enoch_romance to "0">> <<set $n_romance to "0">> <<set $death_hour_seventeen to false>> <<set $death_three_hours to false>> <<set $death_five_hours to false>> <<set $death_time to "">> <<set $side_effects to "Unknown">> <<set $head_shot to false>> <<set $slit_throat to false>> <<set $broken_neck to false>> <<set $death_cause to "">> <<set $n_name to "">> <<set $n_nickname to "">> <<set $n_lastname to "">> <<set $n_they to "">> <<set $n_They to "">> <<set $n_them to "">> <<set $n_Them to "">> <<set $n_their to "">> <<set $n_Their to "">> <<set $n_theirs to "">> <<set $n_themself to "">> <<set $n_Theyre to "">>

the following content warnings can/will be found in the demo: <<nobr>><div class="list"> <center>swearing</center> <center>mentions and descriptions of blood</center> <center>mentions of death</center> <center>death/murder</center> <center>violence</center> </div><</nobr>> ''please make sure to familiarise yourself with these warnings before proceeding with the story. take care of yourself :)'' <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">take me to the story.</div>' 'set up'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

before the story can begin, you will need to make a few set up choices. firstly, what are your pronouns? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">she/her</div>' 'n gender'>><<set $they to "she", $them to "her", $their to "her", $theirs to "hers", $themself to "herself", $has_have to "has", $They to "She", $Their to "Her", $is_are to "is", $theyre to "she's", $Theyre to "She's", $Them to "Her">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">he/him</div>' 'n gender'>><<set $they to "he", $them to "him", $their to "his", $theirs to "his", $themself to "himself", $has_have to "has", $They to "He", $Their to "His", $is_are to "is", $theyre to "he's", $Theyre to "He's", $Them to "Him">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">they/them</div>' 'n gender'>><<set $they to "they", $them to "them", $their to "their", $theirs to "theirs", $themself to "themself", $has_have to "have", $They to "They", $Their to "Their", $is_are to "are", $theyre to "they're", $Theyre to "They're", $Them to "Them">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">xe/xem</div>' 'n gender'>><<set $they to "xe", $them to "xem", $their to "xyr", $theirs to "xyrs", $themself to "xemself", $has_have to "have", $They to "Xe", $Their to "Xyr", $is_are to "are", $theyre to "xyrs", $Theyre to "Xe's", $Them to "Xem">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ze/hir</div>' 'n gender'>><<set $they to "ze", $them to "hir", $their to "hir", $theirs to "hirs", $themself to "hirself", $has_have to "has", $They to "Ze", $Their to "Hir", $is_are to "is", $theyre to "ze's", $Theyre to "Ze's", $Them to "Hir">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

what gender would you like to set n as? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">male</div>' 'prologue'>><<set $nikolai_vasiliev to true, $n_name to "Nikolai", $n_nickname to "Nik", $n_lastname to "Vasiliev", $n_they to "he", $n_They to "He", $n_them to "him", $n_Them to "Him", $n_their to "his", $n_Their to "His", $n_theirs to "his", $n_themself to "himself", $n_Theyre to "he's">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">female</div>' 'prologue'>><<set $natasha_vasilyeva to true, $n_name to "Natasha", $n_nickname to "Nat", $n_lastname to "Vasilyeva", $n_they to "she", $n_They to "She", $n_them to "her", $n_Them to "Her", $n_their to "her", $n_Their to "Her", $n_theirs to "hers", $n_themself to "herself", $n_Theyre to "she's">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><center><h1>Prologue</h1></center> <center><h2>''Monday, 12:58''</h2></center> He stands just outside the open door, staring into the room beyond. His body is tense with nerves, he shifts awkwardly on his feet; he doesn't want to go inside but he knows he has no other choice. Taking a deep breath, he steps forward, passing over the threshold of the door with no way of going back.<</nobr>> The room is brightly lit and the walls are painted white with pastel blue and yellow accents. An assortment of toys litter the floor and he has to watch his step to avoid an injury at the hand of G.I Joe and his lego house. This is a room of smiles and laughter, of pure child-like joy but right now, he feels anything but joyous. Not with the woman sitting on her knees, her back to him, in the center of the room. Her platinum hair is pulled back into a sleek bun and she wears a deep, crimson pantsuit, her high heels sitting discarded by the door. Her stern presence and business-like attire have no place in this room; she is a formidable force that he knows and fears all too well. And yet, she fits right in, flawlessly slotted in amongst the perfect innocence of a child. He steps right up behind her, taking another deep breath to prepare himself to speak when she beats him to it. "You should know better than to disturb me when I'm with Carter," she says, a low and dangerous tone to her voice. He swallows nervously, his eyes flicking down to the small boy sitting beside her. Carter looks up at him, and gives him a shy smile that he does his best to return before going back to his toys. "I do, boss," he starts. "And I wouldn't usually, but it's urgent." "I don't care," she replies, her back still to him. "It can wait." "I'm afraid it can't." He tries to pump whatever urgency he can into his voice in order to get her attention without alerting the boy. It seems to work. <<nobr>>She turns, her cold, mismatched eyes finding him and he attempts to swallow past the lump in his throat. She stares at him for a long moment, analysing his features and the sweat beginning to form on his brow, before she looks back at Carter. "Mommy will be right back, love," she says, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. The boy nods, watching as she gets to her feet, collects her heels and follows him out the room. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">The door is pulled shut behind them</div>' '0-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"Speak," she says, demanding to know what could be so important as to pull her away from her son. He doesn't waste any time. "It's Müller, ma'am; he doesn't have the body." The hard lines of her face contort into an unmistakable expression of anger. "Where is he?" Again, he swallows. "Your study." No more words are spoken on the matter as she storms down the hallway, towards the grand staircase in the foyer, him following close behind her. Her anger rolls off her in waves and he can feel it hot on his skin. He's thankful to not be the object of her outrage but he knows the events about to play out bode well for no one. They reach the study and she throws the door open without hesitation. He winces as the doors slam against the walls and he hurries to shut them once more as she moves to sit at her desk, the large leather chair beckoning to her from behind the wooden table. Müller sits in an armchair, flanked by two armed guards dressed head to toe in body armour. They each have a hand pressed on his shoulders, keeping him in place. As he goes to stand at the side of the desk, he can see the fear etched across Müller's face; he's pale (despite the dark bruises and scratches surrounding his eyes and nose), sweaty and shaking. The man knows what's coming, but he waits for her to sit before pleading his case. "Pierce, I can explain; I swear!" <<nobr>>She leans back in her chair, folding one leg over the other as she fixes him with an ice-cold stare. "I should hope so," she deadpans. "Any excuse, no matter how pathetic and weak, is better than no excuse; especially with your life on the line." Müller's mouth falls open but he says nothing. She taps her nails on the armrest impatiently. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Speak!"</div>' '0-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

With her threat hanging over his head, the words begin to pour out of him, almost uncontrollably. "There were too many people around, I-I had to wait to come back or else I would've been seen," he sputters, looking desperately around the room for anything that could help him. He doesn't find anything. "Someone would've called the cops and then your whole operation would've gone down too." She scoffs and he winces again. "Am I supposed to thank you for being dumb enough to operate in the daytime? How fucking stupid are you?" He didn't think it could be possible, but Müller pales even more. "Where is it? The body?" "I-I don't know." She hums, turning her glare onto him. "Hear that, Sebastian? He lost the body." She barks out a cold, mirthless laughter that fills him with dread. "Because of course you fucking lost it. Tell me, Müller; do you have a brain rolling around in that thick skull of yours or is it just dead air?" "I-" "You had one job; //kill the fucking target.//" "I did, I swear! $They-" <<nobr>>She slams her hands on the desk, the room descending into silence as she rises to her feet, leaning over the flat top. "You expect me to believe that $they rose from the dead and decided to - what? Go home? Take a nice stroll through the park? Maybe visit the local pub?" She pauses, taking a deep breath to try to compose herself once more. "Clearly you did //not// kill $them or else $their body would still be where you left it. Unless you really are that fucking useless and just left it to rot out in the open." <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '0-3'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Müller struggles to find a response but she doesn't seem to need one. Clearing her throat, she stands up straighter, fixing the front of her blazer. "I think we're done here." She steps out from behind the desk and looks at Sebastian as she makes for the door. "Find me someone who can actually do the job I pay them for." Her hand curls around the doorknob when one of the guards speaks up. "What do you want us to do with him, boss?" She stops, looking at the three of them over her shoulder as she thinks. "Kill him." She turns away again, ready to leave the study just as Müller opens his mouth. "No, Pierce, please! I'll fix it, I'll-" She rounds on him, twisting her fingers through his hair to tug his head back, a grunt of pain escaping him as his neck hits the back of the chair. "Too late for that," she growls. "I don't tolerate imbeciles and their mistakes." She shoves his head away from her before looking to the guard that spoke, Müller sobbing quietly between the three of them. <<nobr>>"Make sure you send whatever's left of him to his wife." <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '0-4'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<center><h2>''Thursday, 08:32''</h2></center> Sebastian stands on the pavement, staring at the front entrance of diner with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He glances down at the piece of scrap paper in his hands, double-checking that the name scrawled in pencil matches the neon sign hanging on the side of the building. With confirmation, he heaves a sigh and shoves the paper in his pocket before going inside. The bell jingles overhead. He glances around, tugging his coat around him, until his eyes land on a mop of black hair in the corner of the diner. Determination in his step, he makes his way toward the booth. He slides into the booth, letting his gaze sweep over $n_name. $n_They sits across from him, a cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. He catches a glimpse of the cover and even though the title has been typed out in Cyrillic, he recognises it instantly; American Psycho. //Figures.// $n_They glances up at him before going back to $n_their book. "Pierce's lapdog," $n_they comments, $n_their accent thick. "Come out to play." "It's good to see you, $n_nickname," he says and he means it. It's been a while since they last saw each other and despite their line of business, he's missed interacting with $n_them. "I can't say the same." He watches as $n_their eyes skim over the passage one last time before $n_they shuts the book, setting it aside to focus on him. "How did you find me?" Sebastian shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "You know we have eyes everywhere." <<nobr>>$n_They rolls $n_their eyes, a scowl taking shape on $n_their face. "More dogs," $n_they spits. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"$n_nickname-"</div>' '0-5'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

$n_They holds up a hand to stop him as $n_they raises the coffee cup to $n_their lips, taking a decisive sip. $n_They hums happily. "They make an excellent brew here; you should try some. I think I'll get a refill." "$n_name, just listen-" Again $n_they stops him. "No," $n_they says, $n_their delight at the coffee replaced by something deathly serious. "I don't know what Pierce wants and I don't care. You've wasted your time coming here; I'm not in the business of contract killing anymore." He raises his eyebrows at $n_them. For all the years that he's known $n_them, he never saw $n_them giving the job up. Not voluntarily, at least. $n_Theyre too good at it, too proud of $n_their work to give up. "I somehow find that hard to believe." It's $n_their turn to look surprised. Setting $n_their cup down, $n_they crosses $n_their arms and rests them on the table, staring at him expectantly. "Because you know me so well?" $n_they scoffs. "Oh, that's right; we carpool to work every week and meet up every Friday night for book club! How could I forget all the precious time we spent together?” He grunts, letting $n_their sarcasm wash over him. "I know you well enough." "Okay, prove it; what's my favourite colour?" He frowns at $n_them and opens his mouth to speak but $n_they continues on without his input. "How many tattoos do I have? Which was the most painful? How old was I when my mother abandoned me? Oh! Which of the Shrek movies do I think is best?" <<nobr>>He huffs, growing more impatient the longer $n_they goes on. "$n_name-" <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '0-6'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"No, that's too easy; it's obviously the first one." "I didn't come here to joke around, $n_name!" $n_They draws back from the table, an offended look on $n_their face. "I never joke about Shrek." Deciding their conversation is going nowhere, he moves on. "It's a lot of money." $n_They rolls $n_their eyes again and takes another sip of $n_their coffee. "I don't care about money." "What about Katerina?" $n_They stops in place, $n_their blue eyes flicking to him immediately. He's struck a nerve, he knows that. That was his goal. He also knows $n_they'll make him regret it. He pushes on. "Last I heard-" <<nobr>>$n_They slams the cup down, black coffee sloshing over the rim and onto the table. "Keep her name out your mouth, //dog//," $n_they growls, $n_their joking demeanour gone so fast he swears it never existed in the first place. "Or the only person I'll be killing is you. And I'd happily do that for free." <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' '0-7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

He sinks back into the booth, attempting to get as far out of $n_their reach as he can. Swallowing nervously, he changes tactics. "We're willing to pay double." $n_They clicks $n_their tongue. "'We'? Does Pierce know you rank yourself so highly?" He wilts under $n_their cold stare. "...//Pierce// is willing to pay double." "How many languages do you want to hear 'not interested' in? I can do three, maybe four but my French isn't very good." "Triple then." At this, $n_their eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he knows he has $n_them. $n_They seems to be at a loss for words which surprises him; he knows $n_them as a person that never knows when to stop talking. It doesn't seem to last though, a quip always ready to roll of $n_their tongue when needed. "I sure would hate to be the person who fucked Pierce over," $n_they drawls, a slow smile curling at $n_their lips. "So?" he pushes, desperate for $n_their answer and desperate for it to be some form of 'yes'. $n_They tilts $n_their head to the side as $n_they watches him with critical eyes. "I want half up front," $n_they states decisively, crossing $n_their arms over $n_their chest. "And a new rifle." He nods, eager to please $n_them. Pierce won't be happy about him tripling the offer - or the gun, for that matter - but Pierce isn't happy about much these days. And he did his job as instructed. "Deal," he says, reaching into his coat's inner pockets for his phone. $n_They gives him a toothy grin as $n_they waves over a nearby waitress. "Oh, and Pierce is paying for my breakfast." <<nobr>>He opens his mouth to ask //'what breakfast?'// but his question is quickly answered when the waitress hands $n_them a menu and the assassin begins ordering. //That settles that, then//, he thinks to himself. Heaving a sigh, he places an order of his own for a cup of coffee. It did come highly recommended after all. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next Chapter</div>' 'chapter one'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><center><h1>1. No Rest For The Wicked</h1></center> It's dark. And cold. A combination of things you've never enjoyed. You see nothing, hear nothing; all you can feel is water on your skin, like ice sliding and scraping against your limbs, against your bones. Maybe you should be a bit worried, a bit confused, scared shitless about what's happening to you but you aren't. Maybe that makes you broken. But your only thought, vague and far out of your reach, is 'what the fuck have I gotten myself into now?'<</nobr>> A million thoughts race through your mind. It's too difficult to settle on one, they're all beginning to melt together into some amalgamation of confusion, fear and even more confusion. //Where am I? How did I get here? How the fuck do I leave?// It's like some twisted version of Cotton Eyed Joe, except not as catchy. <<nobr>>In the distance, you hear a vague call for you. Or you think it's for you, at least. The darkness and the whole 'not knowing where you are' thing gives you no way of knowing if you're alone or not. So you hope it's for you; you've waved back to too many people who were waving to someone behind you for this situation to be just as awkward. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Answer the call</div>' 'hour seventeen'>><<set $cautious to Math.clamp($cautious - 10, 0, 100), $impulsive to Math.clamp($impulsive + 10, 0, 100), $physical to Math.clamp($physical - 10, 0, 100), $death_hour_seventeen to true, $death_time to "One hour, seventeen minutes">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Ignore it</div>' '1-1'>><<set $cautious to Math.clamp($cautious + 10, 0, 100), $impulsive to Math.clamp($impulsive - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Perhaps you're not alone; you don't want to risk the embarrassment. You might be lost and confused but you still have your dignity. You feel like you're floating. You imagine that if you weren't surrounded by an endless void, you'd be able to see the stars. If it's night, that is. You don't know what time it is but you hope it's night. You've always thrived in the darkness, the cover of night protecting you from... well, you don't remember. You have a vague memory of running from something, hiding in the shadows from some unseen threat. That should be concerning, your lack of memories, but you can't bring yourself to care. The ice-cold water has started to numb your body as well as your mind. Maybe you're dying. //Maybe you're already dead.// The thought's a little bleak but you need to consider all your options here. What else could this dark and creepy place be if not hell? You probably deserve to be here anyway, not that you can remember anything before waking up here. You just doubt that whatever God is out there would make as big of a mistake as sending someone devout and pure to this shithole. At least you're self-aware. Even in death. <<nobr>>Again, you hear the voice. A disembodied call into the void, a sound silvery and smooth as velvet. It tugs on your soul, pulling you closer, beckoning you into its clutches. A small part of you, the part that longs to be free of Poseidon's hellscape, wants to follow the voice, to embrace its warmth but the stubborn part of you tells you to stay put. It tells you that floating here in the deep end of the void isn't that bad after all. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Follow the voice</div>' 'three hours'>><<set $cautious to Math.clamp($cautious - 10, 0, 100), $impulsive to Math.clamp($impulsive + 10, 0, 100), $physical to Math.clamp($physical - 30, 0, 100), $death_three_hours to true, $death_time to "Three hours, eight minutes">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Ignore it</div>' 'five hours'>><<set $cautious to Math.clamp($cautious + 20, 0, 100), $impulsive to Math.clamp($impulsive - 20, 0, 100), $physical to Math.clamp($physical - 50, 0, 100), $death_five_hours to true, $death_time to "Five hours, fifty-nine minutes">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You give in to your impulses; after all, whatever follows can't be bad as this. Although, there is something to be said for blind hope. You follow the voice as best you can, forcing life into your limbs as you struggle in the water. You don't remember ever learning to swim - you don't remember anything, really - but you can't imagine it's all that difficult. Kick your legs, throw one arm out after the other and Bob's your uncle. Maybe you're oversimplifying it but your head's still above water and that's all that matters at this point. As you continue swimming, the voice gets louder and you realise whoever it belongs to is speaking in incantations. Well, technically you don't know that they're incantations but you recognise the language as Latin and that's basically the same thing. Maybe they're attempting to summon a demon but drew you instead. Maybe you //are// the demon. //A demon with amnesia//, you scoff to yourself. //Fat load of good that'll do...// The voice is impossibly loud now as if they speak right into your ears. With a megaphone. Connected to dozens of speakers surrounding you. It's a wonder you haven't gone deaf yet. You stop swimming to cover your ears but the voice persists, echoing and bouncing off the walls of your skull like a twisted and manic game of brick breaker. If you could feel any pain beyond the ice-cold water, you imagine the headache induced by the noise would be excruciating. As if assaulted by a vacuum, all air is pulled out of your lungs and you're left breathless. Now choking and on the verge of hearing loss, you're at a loss for what to do. You thrash in the water, a scream that you don't hear leaving your lips but it doesn't change anything. You're still suffocating and you're still losing your mind over the voice. You're so out of it that you don't even realise that the water has begun to drain, swirling around you and forming a whirlpool that pulls you down. Pushing and pulling your body as it desires. Down, down, down. Until your head is finally below water and the last bubbles of air escape from your gaping mouth, floating to the surface. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'hour 1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You finally give in to the voice's allure. After all, nothing bad could come from something that sounds as heavenly, right? Although you suppose 17th-century pirates thought the same thing. You try to follow the voice as best as you can, though it's a bit weaker than when you first heard it, forcing life back into your limbs as you struggle in the water. You find it difficult to move, both your arms and legs feeling leaden. Perhaps it's because you don't remember how to swim - or maybe you never learnt in the first place - but you don't imagine it's all that difficult. Attempt and struggle to kick your legs, throw one impossibly heavy arm out after the other and Bob's your uncle. Maybe you're oversimplifying it but you're just barely keeping your head above water and that's all that matters at this point. The voice gets louder as you continue swimming, returning to its original volume and beyond, and you realise whoever it belongs to is speaking in incantations. Well, technically you don't know that they're incantations but you recognise the language as Latin and that's basically the same thing. Maybe they're attempting to summon a demon but drew you instead. Maybe you //are// the demon. //A demon with amnesia//, you scoff to yourself. //Fat load of good that'll do...// The voice is impossibly loud now as if they speak right into your ears. With a megaphone. Connected to dozens of speakers surrounding you. It's a wonder you haven't gone deaf yet. You stop swimming to cover your ears but the voice persists, echoing and bouncing off the walls of your skull like a twisted and manic game of brick breaker. If you could feel any pain beyond the ice-cold water, you imagine the headache induced by the noise would be excruciating. As if assaulted by a vacuum, all air is pulled out of your lungs and you're left breathless. Now choking and on the verge of hearing loss, you're at a loss for what to do. You thrash in the water, a scream that you don't hear leaving your lips but it doesn't change anything. You're still suffocating and you're still losing your mind over the voice. You're so out of it that you don't even realise that the water has begun to drain, swirling around you and forming a whirlpool that pulls you down. Pushing and pulling your body as it desires. Down, down, down. Until your head is finally below water and the last bubbles of air escape from your gaping mouth, floating to the surface. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

The stubborn part of you wins and you get the feeling that that's a common occurrence in your life. Or your past life, you suppose. You have bigger things to worry about than some disembodied voice anyway. You're not entirely sure what those things are yet but you're fairly certain it'll come to you sooner or later. Probably. And in any case, isn't death a 'forever and a day' kind of deal? Yeah, you've got time to figure it out. Now that you think about it as well, it actually is pretty nice just floating here. Sure, you can't feel anything below your neck and yeah, maybe your thoughts are starting to lose all sense and value, but you can't remember another time you felt as peaceful as you do now. That could possibly also do with the fact that you can't remember //anything//, but you choose to believe otherwise here. You don't know how much time passes before you hear the voice again. It could be minutes or it could be days, the specifics don't really matter to you. You notice that it's further away than it was previously. Weaker too, sorta like a candle burning to the end of the wick, the flame mere seconds from sputtering out. You think it's a little sad that this voice, once so strong and overwhelming, is now so low and meek. <<nobr>>However, despite its weakness, you still find yourself drawn in by it. The grasp it has on you is unshakeable and you know that you can't ignore it any longer. You realise you're moving closer to it - whether by your own volition or some unseen force - and there's nothing you can do to stop it. Maybe it's science. Something, something, objects in motion; you forget the rest. Or maybe it's divine intervention. Either way, you're not sure you care anymore. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Finally, you give in</div>' 'five hours 1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You let yourself be pulled in by the voice's allure. You don't know what will come from it, but you hope it's good. Although anything else can be better than the water level of hell and whatever boss you'll presumably need to defeat. Despite not needing to, you find it extremely difficult to move, both your arms and legs feeling as if they're made of stone. Perhaps it's because you don't remember how to swim - or maybe you never learnt in the first place - but you don't imagine it's all that difficult. Attempt and fail to kick your legs, throw one impossibly heavy arm out after the other and Bob's your uncle. Maybe you're oversimplifying it but you're just barely keeping your head above water and that's all that matters at this point. The voice gets louder as you're pulled in closer by it, returning to its original volume and beyond, and you realise whoever it belongs to is speaking in incantations. Well, technically you don't know that they're incantations but you recognise the language as Latin and that's basically the same thing. Maybe they're attempting to summon a demon but drew you instead. Maybe you //are// the demon. //A demon with amnesia//, you scoff to yourself. //Fat load of good that'll do...// The voice is impossibly loud now as if they speak right into your ears. With a megaphone. Connected to dozens of speakers surrounding you. It's a wonder you haven't gone deaf yet. You try and fail to raise your hands to cover your ears but the voice persists, echoing and bouncing off the walls of your skull like a twisted and manic game of brick breaker. If you could feel any pain beyond the ice-cold water, you imagine the headache induced by the noise would be excruciating. As if assaulted by a vacuum, all air is pulled out of your lungs and you're left breathless. Now choking and on the verge of hearing loss, you're at a loss for what to do. You thrash in the water, a scream that you don't hear leaving your lips but it doesn't change anything. You're still suffocating and you're still losing your mind over the voice. <<nobr>>You're so out of it that you don't even realise that the water has begun to drain, swirling around you and forming a whirlpool that pulls you down. Pushing and pulling your body as it desires. Down, down, down. Until your head is finally below water and the last bubbles of air escape from your gaping mouth, floating to the surface. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Nothing. No thoughts, no feelings, no consciousness. It's as if you never existed in the first place. And maybe that's a good thing because that means whatever suffering and pain and hardship you experienced in the past wasn't real. There's solace to be found in that. But then... //something//. A heartbeat; a lifeline. A gasp of air that has a bout of coughs wracking your chest. Smells, sounds... a voice; the same voice that you're sure caused permanent hearing damage. <<set $meet_rivka to true>>"Holy shit, you're awake!" You pull your eyes open - an action that not only drains your body of what little energy it had left but is also a near-impossible feat to accomplish - and after the burn of the bright light, the vague and blurry image of a woman's face enters your vision. She's smiling. A small part of you wonders if she's as beautiful as you think she is, but the thought is quickly passing. You realise she's speaking again. "Think you sit up?" Your own attempt to speak goes unaccomplished so you scrunch your face up in an expression you hope you conveys "I have no fucking clue" - which is another action that proves difficult to execute and only results in the slightest movement of your facial muscles. <<nobr>>Luckily, she gives you a hand; wrapping her arm around your back, she pulls you up into a sitting position, your body resisting the movement like an indignant toddler refusing their nap before she places her free hand on your shoulder to give you a soft push backwards and when your back hits the cold concrete of a wall, you heave a sigh of relief. With your vision clearing, you realise you're sitting on a metal table and you know you've watched enough CSI to recognise it as the staple of morgue furniture. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">//Where the fuck am I?//</div>' 'five hours 3'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Your neck is stiff and just barely turns when your brain commands it to, to look around and you can immediately tell you're not in a morgue. //Thank god.// Judging by the concrete pillars, floor and ceiling, you figure you're in some kind of warehouse. But the household furniture dotted around makes you think someone has made this warehouse their home. That someone being the woman standing before you. You turn your attention back to her. You were right; she //is// beautiful. Dark, wavy hair; perfect unblemished honey-coloured skin and kind eyes the colour of emeralds. She busies herself with different materials and instruments sitting on a metal tray beside the table. You recognise a few things; bandages, rubbing alcohol, suture kit, //scalpel//. But you're not sure about the others and frankly, you're scared to find out; you know enough to piece together that they're surgical instruments but you can't help thinking that they look better suited to a mechanic. You find yourself hoping she doesn't plan to use any on you. She glances up at you and smiles again. "I'm glad it worked," she says as she picks up a washcloth and drops it in a bowl of soapy water. "I honestly gave up hope that I'd be able to bring you back." You furrow your eyebrows at her with what feels like every muscle in your face, watching as she wrings out the washcloth before bringing it to your face. You don't stop her. "Bring me back?" you repeat, speaking through stiff lips that refuse to part more than a slight sliver. Your voice is a cracked, croaking thing that you don't recognise. An involuntary shiver rolls through your body as she wipes the cloth across your cheek, her touch gentle. You imagine you must look quite rough if she's forced to clean you up like she is. "From the dead," she clarifies with a nod. At least you were right about that... She turns her efforts to the other side of your face and the act of her cleaning your face has a wave of calm settling over you. "I saw you floating down the river and couldn't bring myself to leave you there." //River?// You hum, rolling your bottom lip into your mouth in thought. //That would explain the dead sea. Emphasis on dead.// "Why is moving so difficult?" You ask, forcing the words off your tongue. You once more attempt to form an expression of confusion but when your features refuse to budge, you give up entirely. <<nobr>>"Rigor mortis has almost completely set," she states, her words as matter of fact as if she were discussing something as trivial as the weather. "I'm no expert but if I had to guess, I'd say you were dead for about six hours, maybe longer." She suddenly meets your eyes, emerald green irises blown wide, and she doesn't give you a chance to process what she's just said before she's speaking again. "Where are my manners... I'm Rivka Mizrahi, your resident necromancer. But you can just call me Rivka." <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 4'>><<set $side_effects to "Complete stiffness in the facial muscles and limbs, partial stiffness in the fingers and toes">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Her hand pauses in place, the washcloth pressed to your jaw as she looks at you expectantly. You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. She raises an eyebrow as her hands move down to your neck. "And... you are? I couldn't find any kind of ID on your body." You can only stare at her blankly. Name? //Your// name? Why can't you remember your name? That seems like something you should know about yourself... right? Maybe you just don't have one - although you severely doubt that. <<nobr>>Again you open your mouth and without thinking, you say the first thing that comes to mind. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Jane."</div>' 'five hours 5'>><<set $name to "Jane", $lastname to "Doe", $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"John."</div>' 'five hours 5'>><<set $name to "John", $lastname to "Doe", $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Jay."</div>' 'five hours 5'>><<set $name to "Jay", $lastname to "Doe", $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Rivka again raises an eyebrow at you but an amused smile touches her lips. "$name, huh?" she says as she goes to wring out the cloth. "Let me guess; last name '$lastname'?" You avoid the woman's eyes. "...it's a family name." She drops the cloth back in the bowl to cross her arms over her chest as she stares at you. "Your legal is $name $lastname." It's obvious she doesn't believe you - what with the way she looks at you and how her words are posed as a statement instead of a question - but there's no going back now. You're in too deep. Again, you avoid her gaze. "It could be." A moment of silence that seemingly stretches on for eternity. "You don't remember your name, do you?" "Not really, no." She sighs as she picks up the washcloth. "What //do// you remember?" she says, returning with the cloth to now wipe at your arms. Looking down at your limbs, you see that your skin is covered in grime and something that looks distinctly like blood. //Yikes.// Looking back at Rivka, you wrack your brain for memories, any semblance of the life you led before dying and, apparently, being dumped in the river. But you come up short; your brain is empty and cavernous, ready for literally any piece of information to be stored within it. <<nobr>>She glances up at you as you start to reply. "Absolutely nothing," you say with a sigh, speaking through your teeth. "I remember how to function like a person, but not the person I was..." <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"This must be what newborns feel like."</div>' 'five hours 6-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Is this a normal part of necromancy?"</div>' 'five hours 6-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100), $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She snorts as she takes hold of your other arm. "Probably," she says, briefly looking away from your arm to meet your eyes. "But hey, look on the bright side -" "There's a bright side to dying and losing your memories?" Your lips twitch up in a barely-there grin. "First of all; you're not dead anymore," she replies in mock offence. "Second of all; you didn't let me finish." If it wasn't so much work, you'd raise an eyebrow at her, instead simply waiting for her to go on and she takes a deep breath. "You now have a clean slate; you can be whoever you want to be without any mistakes you previously made hanging over your head." "I guess that's true," you muse and she shoots you a brilliant smile, the gap between her front teeth on full display. "Although I think I'm gonna stick with $name $lastname for now. It seems fitting." She snorts again. "Whatever works for you, //$name//." <<nobr>>You clear your throat, a new question burning on your tongue. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"So... how\'d I die?"</div>' 'five hours 7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Rivka frowns as she takes hold of your other arm. "I don't think so," she says slowly, carefully dragging the cloth across your skin as if in deep thought. "I've only ever resurrected animals though, so maybe. But I think the books would've mentioned that if it's true." You blink at her in surprise. "I'm sorry; did you just say 'books'?" She ducks her head, slightly embarrassed. "I'm, uh - self-taught." "What - you pick up a copy of 'Necromancy for Dummies' at the local library?" "Something like that," she grumbles, avoiding your eyes and you get the feeling that you've offended her. <<nobr>>//Well, shit.// Now you feel bad. She was kind enough to bring you back to life, after all. That's gotta count for something. "I'm sorry," you sigh. "That was rude of me." When she doesn't reply, you try your best to think of something else to say and, possibly at your own detriment, you say the first thing that pops in your head <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"So... how\'d I die?"</div>' 'five hours 7'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She glances up at you, stepping back to discard the cloth in the bowl of water, now void of soap and a murky rust colour. She quirks an eyebrow up at you. "You sure you wanna know?" "The suspense is killing me," you tease and she scoffs, rolling her eyes. <<nobr>>"Fine," she says. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Bullet to the head."</div>' 'five hours 8-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Slit throat."</div>' 'five hours 8-2'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Broken neck."</div>' 'five hours 8-3'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $head_shot to true, $death_cause to "Bullet wound to the head", $physical to Math.clamp($physical - 30, 0, 100)>>You wince. "That would explain the splitting headache." She bites her lip as her eyes flick between yours and your forehead. "Well, technically; it's //bullets//," she says, twisting her fingers. "There are three entry wounds." "How do you know it's three?" She fidgets in place for a few seconds before grabbing a hand mirror off the tray and holding it up in front of you. Your eyes widen in surprise at the three distinctive bullet holes in your forehead. You even go so far as to count them, even though it's quite obvious how many there are. "Yep," you say, still in disbelief at the literal holes in your face. "That's three, alright." She places the mirror back on the tray before reaching for suture thread and what is probably the largest needle you've ever seen. "You also have two on the back of your head but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say those are exit wounds." She pauses, needle and thread in hand. "Which means you probably still have a bullet lodged up there." Your eyes widen further at her implication. "And that is where it will stay!" You reply indignantly. She drops her arms in exasperation. "So, what - I just stitch the holes closed with a bullet just floating around your brain? I don't know how medically sound that is..." "With all due respect, Rivka," you start as you attempt to raise your arms in defence. "I don't trust you enough to go poking around in my brain." "Fine! Guess it's splitting headaches for eternity for you then," she says as she tilts her head back, sighing dramatically. "Will you at least let me give you stitches?" <<nobr>>"I guess..." Your words are unsure as you eye the needle in her hands. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 9-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $slit_throat to true, $death_cause to "Slit throat", $physical to Math.clamp($physical - 30, 0, 100)>>"That's too //Red Wedding// for my liking," you grimace. She chuckles softly despite the subject matter and you can't deny your own small smile. "Just be glad you can still talk," she says. "Catelyn Stark's throat was slit so deep, she was left mute when she was revived." You scoff. "Yeah, I just sound like I've been smoking a pack a day for the past fifty years." "You look great for seventy," she says as she picks up a suture kit, pulling from it thread and a large, curved needle. She gestures to your neck and you angle your head down in a slight nod, somewhat uncertain of her ability to give stitches. She steps up to you once more, this time close enough for you to smell her perfume, something sweet like candy, and the slightest hint of death - which you attribute to yourself, having been a dead body not so long ago. You hope to whatever God is out there that you no longer smell like that. <<nobr>>You realise you haven't said anything and though you doubt she waiting for a response, you want to give her one anyway. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Dermatologists hate me."</div>' 'five hours 8-2-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You smell really nice."❤️</div>' 'five hours 8-2-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Her hands on your neck, distinctly ten times warmer than your own skin, she cracks up, laughing loudly at your comment in reference to hers about your age. You grin up at her. "Don't make me laugh," she says with a push to your shoulder. "I'm tryna focus here." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 9-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"You know, despite the undertones of dead person," you add and she chuckles softly, ducking her head. "Stop flirting with me," she says, though there's no hiding the smile that graces her lips. "Unless you //want// a giant scar." "You gotta admit that would make an excellent conversation starter." "Stop moving," she says, teasing you and you roll your eyes at her. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 9-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $broken_neck to true, $death_cause to "Broken neck", $physical to Math.clamp($physical - 30, 0, 100)>>You force your eyebrows downward in what you hope is an expression of concern. "That's a bit too barbaric for my tastes..." She crosses her arms over her chest, one eyebrow raised in your direction. "You have an ideal way to be murdered?" "Yeah, it's 'to not be'." You tilt your head to the side and feel a painful click in your neck. //Yep, definitely broken...// <<nobr>>At that, she laughs. "You make a fair point... although dying in your sleep seems a bit too lacklustre." <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Would you rather a broken neck?"</div>' 'five hours 8-3-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You are a strange woman."❤️</div>' 'five hours 8-3-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She purses her lips, thinking for a moment. "What's your pain level like?" You tilt your head again and wince at the familiar click. "About a five." "Out of?" "Five." She hums, shooting you a smile. "Perhaps not then." You fix her with a calculating look. "Can necromancers even die?" She pauses, again taking a moment to consider your question. "I'm not too sure... haven't exactly tested that theory." "Probably for the best," you say, returning her smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 9-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"Thank you," she says, beaming at you. "I'm not sure that's a compliment in this situation," you counter, though you can't help but smile at her. "//I'm// not sure any sane person would become a necromancer," she laughs. "I've come to terms with who I am." "As long as you're not the 'killing other people' type of insane. I don't think I can handle dying twice in one day..." "And put all my hard work to waste?" She scoffs as if appalled at the mere suggestion. "I don't think so." "Just putting it out there," you chuckle in response. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 9-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<if $head_shot is true>>With her hands poised on your head, that giant needle hovering over your skin, you begin to sweat. You clear your throat nervously. "You sure you know how to give stitches?" You ask, glancing up at her. "I'm not really feeling the 'Harry Potter crossed paths with a gang' look." "I think you could pull it off," she quips.<</if>><<if $slit_throat is true>> With her hands poised once more at your throat, that giant needle hovering over your skin, you begin to sweat. You clear your throat nervously. "You sure you know how to give stitches?" You ask, glancing up at her. "I don't really wanna look like I got into a fight with a guillotine and lost." "You already look like that," she scoffs.<</if>> You shoot her a glare. "That doesn't answer my question, Rivka..." "Well," she pauses, chewing on her bottom lip. "I know how to sew clothes. That's close enough, right?" "I wanna say yes but it feels wrong to," you say, furrowing your eyebrows. You look at each other for a moment, the silence hanging heavy in the air. Finally, she nods decisively. "I'll look it up on //Youtube//." She turns on her feet, walking towards a desk directly across from you, atop which a laptop sits. You remain seated on the metal table, unsure of how well your legs work currently. You have only been alive for some twenty minutes, after all. "They have tutorials for that?" You call after her. She glances at you as she slips into the seat behind the desk and shrugs. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Probably..."</div>' 'five hours 9-1-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You bring your hands up to the back of your neck, the movement agonisingly slow, and you run your fingers over the very obvious broken bones that you find there. "Are you able to do anything about this?" You ask, staring at Rivka pointedly. "I'm not exactly a licensed medical professional," she says. "I really only know basic first aid." You frown at her, dropping your hands to your sides in disappointment. "Do you at least have a neck brace I can use?" Her face lights like a Christmas tree. "No, but I could order one online for you. Give me one second!" You watch as she starts for the desk directly across from you on the other side of the room, a laptop sitting atop it. She slides into the chair behind the desk and pulls the laptop closer, typing faster than you thought possible. While she works, you decide to move, growing restless sitting on the metal table. Swinging your legs ever so slightly, it takes entirely too much effort for you to slide off the table and you hold your breath until your feet touch the floor. You expect pain of any kind - or perhaps worse yet; no feeling at all - but beyond the stiffness in your legs, you feel nothing. And though you can't at all bend your knees, you're able to walk in a semi-straight line. You might resemble a deer with broken legs fresh out of the womb but you're proud of yourself nonetheless. //Score one for $name $lastname.// "Done!" Rivka suddenly calls out, looking up from her laptop screen to where you stand some feet away from the metal table. She looks surprised that you're standing - which you are too if you're honest - but a smile quickly takes over her face. "If you're looking for the bathroom, it's that way." She points to the corner behind you and you look over your shoulder to see a wooden door that opens to what looks like an eternal darkness. "Feel free to take a shower," she adds. "No offence but for a now alive person, you kind of reek of death." You shoot her a scathing look that she returns with a teasing smile. "Thanks," you mutter, making your way toward the bathroom on legs that just barely cooperate. Once inside, you shut the door behind you and drag your hand along the wall in search of the light switch, flicking it on when you find it. Now able to see, the first thing your eyes land on is the mirror and your appearance, and your gasp of shock echoes off the walls. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 10'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Fifteen minutes later, Rivka is once more standing in front of you, needle in hand as she gives you stitches. And if you're being honest with yourself, you don't even feel it - but that could also be due to the 'being dead for an unknown amount of time' part of things. Finally, she steps back, admiring her work with a satisfied smile on her face. "Good as new!" She says before pausing, a look on her face that suggests she's reconsidering her words. "Or rather; good as second hand." "Lovely," you mutter. She turns to place the needle and thread once more in the suture kit and you decide to test out if your legs function as they should or not. Swinging your legs ever so slightly, it takes entirely too much effort for you to slide off the table and you hold your breath until your feet touch the floor. You expect pain of any kind - or perhaps worse yet; no feeling at all - but beyond the stiffness in your legs, you feel nothing. And though you can't at all bend your knees, you're able to walk in a semi-straight line. You might resemble a deer with broken legs fresh out of the womb but you're proud of yourself nonetheless. //Score one for $name Doe.// "Oh!" Rivka says, looking at you over her shoulder. She looks surprised that you're standing - which you are too if you're honest - but a smile quickly takes over her face. "If you're wondering where the bathroom is, it's that way." She points to the corner behind you and you look over your shoulder to see a wooden door that opens to what looks like an eternal darkness. "Feel free to take a shower," she adds. "No offence but for a now alive person, you kinda reek of death." You shoot her a scathing look that she returns with a teasing smile. "Thanks," you mutter, making your way toward the bathroom on legs that just barely cooperate. Once inside, you shut the door behind you and drag your hand along the wall in search of the light switch, flicking it on when you find it. Now able to see, the first thing your eyes land on is the mirror and your appearance, and your gasp of shock echoes off the walls. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 10'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You have no memory of what you looked like before - what you're supposed to look like - but you're almost positive 'drowned sewer rat' doesn't exactly cover it. Before you stands a... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">woman</div>' 'five hours 11'>><<set $woman to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">man</div>' 'five hours 11'>><<set $man to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">a person outside the binary</div>' 'five hours 11'>><<set $nonbinary to true>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

$Their hair - //your// hair - is a mess of drenched, tangled locks that are: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">shaved in a buzzcut</div>' 'five hours 12'>><<set $hair_length to "shaved", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'five hours 12'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'five hours 12'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose down your back</div>' 'five hours 12'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'five hours 12'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'five hours 12'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose down your back</div>' 'five hours 12'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'five hours 12'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'five hours 12'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose down your back</div>' 'five hours 12'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'five hours 12'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'five hours 12'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose down your back</div>' 'five hours 12'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><center><h2>Select a colour</h2></center> <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">black</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "black">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark brown</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "dark brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">light brown</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "light brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ginger</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "ginger">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dirty blonde</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "dirty blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">golden blonde</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "golden blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">platinum blonde</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "platinum blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dyed</div>' 'five hours 12-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">hot pink</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "hot pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby pink</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">violet</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "violet">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">lilac</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "lilac">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">electric blue</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "electric blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby blue</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">mint</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "mint">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">forest green</div>' 'five hours 13'>><<set $hair_colour to "forest green">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>>You stare into your eyes, which are sunken in and weighed down by dark, heavy bags. If you didn't know any better, you'd say you were Tim Burton's latest creation. Their colour is dull and lifeless - //pretty ironic//, you think to yourself - and what probably used to be a deep, rich... <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">black</div>' 'five hours 14'>><<set $eye to "black", $Eye to "Black">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">brown</div>' 'five hours 14'>><<set $eye to "brown", $Eye to "Brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">green</div>' 'five hours 14'>><<set $eye to "green", $Eye to "Green">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">blue</div>' 'five hours 14'>><<set $eye to "blue", $Eye to "Blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">grey</div>' 'five hours 14'>><<set $eye to "grey", $Eye to "Grey">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>>Your skin is probably the worst of all. Cold to the touch and dry as a desert, it's a greying shade of... <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">porcelain</div>' 'five hours 15'>><<set $skin_colour to "porcelain">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ivory</div>' 'five hours 15'>><<set $skin_colour to "ivory">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">beige</div>' 'five hours 15'>><<set $skin_colour to "beige">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">honey</div>' 'five hours 15'>><<set $skin_colour to "honey">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">bronze</div>' 'five hours 15'>><<set $skin_colour to "bronze">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">umber</div>' 'five hours 15'>><<set $skin_colour to "umber">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ebony</div>' 'five hours 15'>><<set $skin_colour to "ebony">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Safe to say you're not looking your best. Too bad there isn't a phrase meaning the opposite of a sight for sore eyes, you think, because you'd fit that description to a T. Tearing your eyes away from your reflection, you strip out of your river-sodden and blood-stained clothes before stepping into the shower, not even waiting for the water to get hot. You stand under the shower head, waiting for the familiar sting of ice-cold water to hit you but it never does. Even as the water begins to heat up, the bathroom steadily filling with steam, you wait for the temperature to turn to the flesh-burning extreme but it never reaches that point. If not for the clouds of steam swirling around you and your grey skin slowly turning red, you'd swear the water was barely even lukewarm. Perhaps in addition to rigor mortis, being dead causes slight nerve damage. Shrugging your shoulders, you get to scrubbing your body, something you're certain is going to take longer than it usually would. As good a job as Rivka did cleaning your arms of grime and dried blood and whatever was on your face (probably more of the same, you guess), she didn't account for the mess of your body beneath your clothes. <<if $broken_neck is true>>Your chest is caked in more grime and dried blood, which is now a rusty brown colour, that flakes off and falls to the shower floor as you scrub away at it. After a quick scan of your body and finding no other open wounds, you guess the blood belongs to your murderer. You heave a sigh as you drag a soapy hand over your skin once more. You may not have won the fight against them but you can at least find solace in knowing that you made them bleed.<</if>><<if $slit_throat is true>>Your chest is caked in dried blood, which is now a rusty brown colour, that flakes off and falls to the shower floor as you scrub away at it. You guess it all came from the gaping slit in your neck, having no other open wounds that you can see. You vaguely wonder if Rivka did a good enough job stitching you closed; you specifically avoided looking at the cause of your death when surveying yourself in the mirror but as you run your fingers over the wound, the stitches seem to be holding up alright.<</if>><<if $head_shot is true>>Your chest is caked in more grime and dried blood, which is now a rusty brown colour, that flakes off and falls to the shower floor as you scrub away at it. After a quick scan of your body and finding no other open wounds, you guess the blood belongs to your murderer. You heave a sigh as you drag a soapy hand over your skin once more. You may not have won the fight against them but you can at least find solace in knowing that you made them bleed.<</if>> You make sure to wash every inch of your body once, twice, three times until the water pooling at your runs clear what feels like hours later. One look down at yourself, you can tell you've scrubbed your skin raw but you're at least clean now and hopefully no longer smell like a dead person, and you tell yourself that that is all that matters. It's only once you shut off the water and step out of the shower that you realise you have nothing to wear besides the rags you'd discarded on the floor. You grab the towel off the rack and wrap it around yourself, resigning yourself to the idea of asking Rivka for some clothes. //As if she hasn't already done enough for you,// you scold yourself. One more brief glance in the mirror tells you you've been upgraded from drowned sewer rat to drowned pet rat and you give yourself a congratulatory nod before you're dragging yourself out of the bathroom. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 16'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"Hey, Rivka," you call out, dripping water on the concrete floor as your eyes land on the necromancer's mess of brown curls. She looks up at you from her position on the other side of the room, where she's wheeled the tray next to a small kitchenette. "I don't suppose you have any clothes I could borrow?" Her emerald eyes rake over your body, presumably to try to gauge your measurements but you can't help tighten your hold on your towel. "I think so," she says as she steps away from the kitchenette, making her way towards a staircase on the opposite side of the room that you'd failed to notice until now. "I'll be right back." You watch as she disappears up the staircase before turning your attention to your surroundings once more. Besides the desk, kitchenette and morgue table; a lounge set sits in the corner and you make your way towards it on stiff legs, wet footprints marking the trail behind you. Making yourself comfortable on the loveseat, you wait patiently, your fingers still clutching the edge of the towel as if your life depends on it. Out the corner of your eye, you spot a book sitting atop the coffee table, the cover - or rather, the lack thereof - catching your attention. You turn your head to get a better look at it as you reach out to grab it. Up close, you see that it's hardcover with a glossy white book jacket void of both a title and some kind of illustration. But you quickly realise the nondescript nature of the book is the least of your worries. <<if $head_shot is true>>With the book now sitting in your lap, you watch seemingly in slow motion as a drop of blood hits the pristine book jacket. It takes four more drops staining the book jacket crimson red for you to raise a hand to the wound Rivka had sutured closed, which on its own is difficult enough, and when you pull your hand away, your fingers covered in even more blood, you do the first thing that comes to mind: scream.<<set $side_effects to "Complete stiffness in the facial muscles and limbs, partial stiffness in the fingers and toes; occasional bleeding from exterior wounds.">><</if>><<if $slit_throat is true>>With the book now sitting in your lap, you watch seemingly in slow motion as a drop of blood hits the pristine book jacket. It takes four more drops staining the book jacket crimson red for you to raise a hand to the wound Rivka had sutured closed, which on its own is difficult enough, and when you pull your hand away, your fingers covered in even more blood, you do the first thing that comes to mind: scream.<<set $side_effects to "Complete stiffness in the facial muscles and limbs, partial stiffness in the fingers and toes; occasional bleeding from exterior wounds.">><</if>><<if $broken_neck is true>>With the book now sitting in your lap, you discover that you can't move your head, your neck stuck in position. Filled with burgeoning panic, you release the book and bring your hands up to your head, which on its own is difficult enough, and you attempt what you imagine broke your neck in the first place. And when your head still doesn't move despite all your pulling and tugging, you do the next most logical thing that comes to mind: scream.<<set $side_effects to "Complete stiffness in the facial muscles and limbs, partial stiffness in the fingers and toes; neck will occasionally get stuck in place.">><</if>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $broken_neck is true>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item"><h2>"RIVKA!"</h2></div>' 'five hours 17-1'>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $head_shot is true>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item"><h2>"RIVKA!"</h2></div>' 'five hours 17-2'>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $slit_throat is true>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item"><h2>"RIVKA!"</h2></div>' 'fivehours 17-3'>><</link>></center><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

You're already on your feet, stumbling and tripping over the furniture as you continue to try - and fail - to move your head when the necromancer appears at the top of the stairs with a bundle of clothes in her arms. "What? What's wrong?" she asks, her green eyes blown wide with concern as she hurries down the stairs toward you. "My head is stuck in place," you cry indignantly. "That's what's wrong!" She trails behind you, her look of confusion turning to one of amusement when she catches sight of your predicament. "Oh," she says. "No, that's supposed to happen." You turn your body to look at her, mouth slightly agape and you narrow your eyes at the woman. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wait, really...?"</div>' 'five hours 17-1-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"No the fuck it\'s not!"</div>' 'five hours 17-1-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $cautious to Math.clamp($cautious + 10, 0, 100), $impulsive to Math.clamp($impulsive - 10, 0, 100)>>She gives you a sweet smile as she steps around you to grab a dish towel, setting the bundle of clothes on the counter. "Trust me, this is just a result of being brought back to life." Though reluctant, you let her pull your hands away from your face, a gush of blood briefly falling into your eyes before she quickly presses the towel to your forehead. "There's not really any explanation for it but it happens." "I'm so assured," you reply, your sarcasm eliciting a laugh from her. "It'll only last for a day or two." She looks up at you, her face suddenly serious. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." "I'm gonna be honest, Rivka; being alive no longer sounds fun." "Hush!" she says, laughing again and you can't deny your own smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 18'>><</link>></center>

<<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100)>>Rivka only laughs and sets the clothes on the coffee table. "Who's the expert on dead things here? I know what I'm talking about, $name." "I'm //no longer// a dead thing, Rivka," you counter, again pulling and tugging at your head to no avail. //Yep//, you think, //still not budging//. "And I'm very proud of that, I'll have you know." She gives you a brilliant smile. "Now will you let me fix your fucked up neck? You look ridiculous." You reluctantly lower your hands and let Rivka step up behind you, her hands settling on your neck, her touch once again warm and gentle. "So, remind me," you start, crossing your arms over your chest. "How exactly is this a common occurrence?" You glance at her as she shrugs. "Just necromancy things," she chuckles. "There's not really an explanation for it, it just kinda happens." "Well, that's reassuring..." "It'll only last for a day or two." She looks up at you, her face suddenly serious. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." "I'm gonna be honest, Rivka; being alive no longer sounds fun." "Hush!" she says, laughing again and you can't deny your own smile. Double-click this passage to edit it. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 18'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $cautious to Math.clamp($cautious + 10, 0, 100), $impulsive to Math.clamp($impulsive - 10, 0, 100)>>She gives you a sweet smile as she steps around you to grab a dish towel, setting the bundle of clothes on the counter. "Trust me, this is just a result of being brought back to life." Though reluctant, you let her pull your hands away from your face, a gush of blood briefly running down your chest before she quickly presses the towel to your neck. "There's not really any explanation for it but it happens." "I'm so assured," you reply, your sarcasm eliciting a laugh from her. "It'll only last for a day or two." She looks up at you, her face suddenly serious. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." "I'm gonna be honest, Rivka; being alive no longer sounds fun." "Hush!" she says, laughing again and you can't deny your own smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 18'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100)>>Rivka only laughs, stepping around you to grab a dish towel and set down the bundle of clothes on the counter. "Who's the expert on dead things here? I know what I'm talking about, $name." "I'm //no longer// a dead thing, Rivka," you counter, mistakenly moving your fingers ever so slightly and feeling a gush of blood run down your chest. //Yep//, you think, //still bleeding//. "And I'm very proud of that, I'll have you know." She gives you a brilliant smile. "Now will you hold still? You're getting blood everywhere." You reluctantly lower your hands and let Rivka press the towel to your neck. "So, remind me," you start, crossing your arms over your chest. "How exactly is this a common occurrence?" She shrugs. "Just necromancy things," she chuckles. "There's not really an explanation for it, it just kinda happens." "Well, that's reassuring..." "It'll only last for a day or two." She looks up at you, her face suddenly serious. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." "I'm gonna be honest, Rivka; being alive no longer sounds fun." "Hush!" she says, laughing again and you can't deny your own smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 18'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Nothing. No thoughts, no feelings, no consciousness. It's as if you never existed in the first place. And maybe that's a good thing because that means whatever suffering and pain and hardship you experienced in the past wasn't real. There's solace to be found in that. But then... //something//. A heartbeat; a lifeline. A gasp of air that has a bout of coughs wracking your chest. Smells, sounds... a voice; the same voice that you're sure caused permanent hearing damage. "You're awake! Finally..."<<set $meet_rivka to true>> You pull your eyes open - an action that not only drains your body of what little energy it had left but also seems incredibly difficult to accomplish - and after the burn of the bright light, the vague and blurry image of a woman's face enters your vision. She's smiling. A small part of you wonders if she's as beautiful as you think she is, but the thought is quickly passing. You realise she's speaking again. "Think you sit up?" Your own attempt to speak goes unaccomplished so you scrunch your face up in an expression you hope you conveys "I have no fucking clue" - which is another action that proves difficult to execute. Luckily, she gives you a hand; wrapping her arm around your back, she pulls you up into a sitting position, your body resisting the movement like an indignant toddler refusing their nap, before she places her free hand on your shoulder to give you a soft push backward and when your back hits the cold concrete of a wall, you heave a sigh of relief. With your vision clearing, you realise you're sitting on a metal table and you know you've watched enough CSI to recognise it as the staple of morgue furniture. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">//Where the fuck am I?//</div>' 'three hours 2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Your neck is stiff as you turn your head to look around and you can immediately tell you're not in a morgue. //Thank god.// Judging by the concrete pillars, floor and ceiling, you figure you're in some kind of warehouse. But the household furniture dotted around makes you think someone has made this warehouse their home. That someone being the woman standing before you. You turn your attention back to her. You were right; she //is// beautiful. Dark, wavy hair; perfect unblemished honey-coloured skin and kind eyes the colour of emeralds. She busies herself with different materials and instruments sitting on a metal tray beside the table. You recognise a few things; bandages, rubbing alcohol, suture kit, //scalpel//. But you're not sure about the others and frankly, you're scared to find out; you know enough to piece together that they're surgical instruments but you can't help thinking that they look better suited to a mechanic. You find yourself hoping she doesn't plan to use any on you. She glances up at you and smiles again. "I'm glad it worked," she says as she picks up a washcloth and drops it in a bowl of soapy water. "I was starting to lose hope that I'd be able to bring you back." You furrow your eyebrows at her with what feels like every muscle in your face, watching as she wrings out the washcloth before bringing it to your face. You don't stop her. "Bring me back?" you repeat, your voice a cracked, croaking thing that you don't recognise. An involuntary shiver rolls through your body as she wipes the cloth across your cheek, her touch gentle. You imagine you must look quite rough if she's forced to clean you up like she is. "From the dead," she clarifies with a nod. At least you were right about that... She turns her efforts to the other side of your face and the act of her cleaning your face has a wave of calm settling over you. "I saw you floating down the river and couldn't bring myself to leave you there." //River?// You hum, rolling your bottom lip into your mouth in thought. //That would explain the dead sea. Emphasis on dead.// "Why is it so difficult to move?" You ask, forcing the words off your tongue. You once more attempt to form an expression of confusion but when your features refuse to budge, you give up entirely. "Rigor mortis had begun to set in," she states, her words as matter of fact as if she were discussing something as trivial as the weather. "I'm not an expert but if I had to guess, I'd say you were dead for about three hours, maybe longer." She suddenly meets your eyes, emerald green irises blown wide, and she doesn't give you a chance to process what she's just said before she's speaking again. "Where are my manners... I'm Rivka Mizrahi, your resident necromancer. But you can just call me Rivka."<<set $side_effects to "Slight stiffness in the facial muscles and limbs">> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 3'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Her hand pauses in place, the washcloth pressed to your jaw as she looks at you expectantly. You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. She raises an eyebrow as her hands move down to your neck. "And... you are? I couldn't find any kind of ID on your body." You can only stare at her blankly. Name? //Your// name? Why can't you remember your name? That seems like something you should know about yourself... right? Maybe you just don't have one - although you severely doubt that. Again you open your mouth and without thinking, you say the first thing that comes to mind. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Jane."</div>' 'three hours 4'>><<set $name to "Jane", $lastname to "Doe", $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"John."</div>' 'three hours 4'>><<set $name to "John", $lastname to "Doe", $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Jay."</div>' 'three hours 4'>><<set $name to "Jay", $lastname to "Doe", $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Rivka again raises an eyebrow at you but an amused smile touches her lips. "$name, huh?" she says as she goes to wring out the cloth. "Let me guess; last name 'Doe'?" You avoid the woman's eyes. "...it's a family name." She drops the cloth back into the bowl to cross her arms over her chest as she stares at you. "Your legal is $name Doe." It's obvious she doesn't believe you - what with the way she looks at you and how her words are posed as a statement instead of a question - but there's no going back now. You're in too deep. Again, you avoid her gaze. "It could be." A moment of silence that seemingly stretches on for eternity. "You don't remember your name, do you?" "Not really, no." She sighs as she picks up the washcloth. "What //do// you remember?" she says, returning with the cloth to now wipe at your arms. Looking down at your limbs, you see that your skin is covered in grime and something that looks distinctly like blood. //Yikes.// Looking back at Rivka, you wrack your brain for memories, any semblance of the life you led before dying and, apparently, being dumped in the river. But you come up short; your brain is empty and cavernous, ready for literally any piece of information to be stored within it. She glances up at you as you start to reply. "Absolutely nothing," you say with a sigh. "I remember how to function like a person, but not the person I was..." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"This must be what newborns feel like."</div>' 'three hours 5-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Is this a normal part of necromancy?"</div>' 'three hours 5-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100), $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She snorts as she takes hold of your other arm. "Probably," she says, briefly looking away from your arm to meet your eyes. "But hey, look on the bright side -" "There's a bright side to dying and losing your memories?" You grin at her. "First of all; you're not dead anymore," she replies in mock offence. "Second of all; you didn't let me finish." If it wasn't so much work, you'd raise an eyebrow at her, instead simply waiting for her to go on and she takes a deep breath. "You now have a clean slate; you can be whoever you want to be without any mistakes you previously made hanging over your head." "I guess that's true," you muse and she shoots you a brilliant smile, the gap between her front teeth on full display. "Although I think I'm gonna stick with $name Doe for now. It seems fitting." She snorts again. "Whatever works for you, //$name//." You clear your throat, a new question burning on your tongue. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"So... how\'d I die?"</div>' 'three hours 6'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Rivka frowns as she takes hold of your other arm. "I don't think so," she says slowly, carefully dragging the cloth across your skin as if in deep thought. "I've only ever resurrected animals though, so maybe. But I think the books would've mentioned that if it's true." You blink at her in surprise. "I'm sorry; did you just say 'books'?" She ducks her head, slightly embarrassed. "I'm, uh - self-taught." "What - you pick up a copy of 'Necromancy for Dummies' at the local library?" "Something like that," she grumbles, avoiding your eyes and you get the feeling that you've offended her. //Well, shit.// Now you feel bad. She was kind enough to bring you back to life, after all. That's gotta count for something. "I'm sorry," you sigh. "That was rude of me." When she doesn't reply, you try your best to think of something else to say and, possibly to your own detriment, you say the first thing that pops in your head. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"So... how\'d I die?"</div>' 'three hours 6'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She glances up at you, stepping back to discard the cloth in the bowl of water, now void of soap and a murky rust colour. She quirks up an eyebrow at you. "You sure you wanna know?" "The suspense is killing me," you tease and she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Fine," she says. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Bullet to the head."</div>' 'three hours 7-1'>><<set $head_shot to true, $death_cause to "Bullet wound to the head", $physical to Math.clamp($physical - 30, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Slit throat."</div>' 'three hours 7-2'>><<set $slit_throat to true, $death_cause to "Slit throat", $physical to Math.clamp($physical - 30, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Broken neck."</div>' 'three hours 7-3'>><<set $broken_neck to true, $death_cause to "Broken neck", $physical to Math.clamp($physical - 30, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You wince. "That would explain the splitting headache." She bites her lip as her eyes flick between yours and your forehead. "Well, technically; it's //bullets//," she says, twisting her fingers. "There are three entry wounds." "How do you know it's three?" She fidgets in place for a few seconds before grabbing a hand mirror off the tray and holding it up in front of you. Your eyes widen in surprise at the three distinctive bullet holes in your forehead. You even go so far as to count them, even though it's quite obvious how many there are. "Yep," you say, still in disbelief at the literal holes in your face. "That's three, alright." She places the mirror back on the tray before reaching for suture thread and what is probably the largest needle you've ever seen. "You also have two on the back of your head but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say those are exit wounds." She pauses, needle and thread in hand. "Which means you probably still have a bullet lodged up there." Your eyes widen further at her implication. "And that is where it will stay!" You reply indignantly. She drops her arms in exasperation. "So, what - I just stitch the holes closed with a bullet just floating around your brain? I don't know how medically sound that is..." "With all due respect, Rivka," you start as you attempt to raise your arms in defence. "I don't trust you enough to go poking around in my brain." "Fine! Guess it's splitting headaches for eternity for you then," she says as she tilts her head back, sighing dramatically. "Will you at least let me give you stitches?" "I guess..." Your words are unsure as you eye the needle in her hands. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 8-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"That's too //Red Wedding// for my liking," you grimace. She chuckles softly despite the subject matter and you can't deny your own small smile. "Just be glad you can still talk," she says. "Catelyn Stark's throat was slit so deep, she was left mute when she was revived." You scoff. "Yeah, I just sound like I've been smoking a pack a day for the past fifty years." "You look great for seventy," she says as she picks up a suture kit, pulling from it thread and a large, curved needle. She gestures to your neck and you nod, somewhat uncertain of her ability to give stitches. She steps up to you once more, this time close enough for you to smell her perfume, something sweet like candy, and the slightest hint of death - which you attribute to yourself, having been a dead body not so long ago. You hope to whatever God is out there that you no longer smell like that. You realise you haven't said anything and though you doubt she waiting for a response, you want to give her one anyway. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Dermatologists hate me."</div>' 'three hours 7-2-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You smell really nice."❤️</div>' 'three hours 7-2-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Her hands on your neck, distinctly ten times warmer than your own skin, she cracks up, laughing loudly at your comment in reference to hers about your age. You grin up at her. "Don't make me laugh," she says with a push to your shoulder. "I'm tryna focus here." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 8-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"You know, despite the undertones of dead person," you add and she chuckles softly, ducking her head. "Stop flirting with me," she says, though there's no hiding the smile that graces her lips. "Unless you //want// a giant scar." "You gotta admit that would make an excellent conversation starter." "Stop moving," she replies in what you assume is supposed to be an admonishing tone but you don't buy it, not with that smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 8-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You lower your eyebrows into what you hope is an expression of concern. "That's a bit too barbaric for my tastes..." She crosses her arms over her chest, one eyebrow raised in your direction. "You have an ideal way to be murdered?" "Yeah, it's 'to not be'." You tilt your head to the side and feel a painful click in your neck. //Yep, definitely broken...// At that, she laughs. "You make a fair point... although dying in your sleep seems a bit too lacklustre." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Would you rather a broken neck?"</div>' 'three hours 7-3-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You are a strange woman."❤️</div>' 'three hours 7-3-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She purses her lips, thinking for a moment. "What's your pain level like?" You tilt your head again and wince at the familiar click. "About a five." "Out of?" "Five." She hums, shooting you a smile. "Perhaps not then." You fix her with a calculating look. "Can necromancers even die?" She pauses, again taking a moment to consider your question. "I'm not too sure... haven't exactly tested that theory." "Probably for the best," you say, returning her smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 8-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"Thank you," she says, beaming at you. "I'm not sure that's a compliment in this situation," you counter, though you can't help but smile at her. "//I'm// not sure any sane person would become a necromancer," she laughs. "I've come to terms with who I am." "As long as you're not the 'killing other people' type of insane. I don't think I can handle dying twice in one day..." "And put all my hard work to waste?" She scoffs as if appalled at the mere suggestion. "I don't think so." "Just putting it out there," you chuckle in response. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 8-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You bring your hands up to the back of your neck, the movement agonisingly slow, and you run your fingers over the very obvious broken bones that you find there. "Are you able to do anything about this?" You ask, staring at Rivka pointedly. "I'm not exactly a licensed medical professional," she says. "I really only know basic first aid." You frown at her, dropping your hands to your sides in disappointment. "Do you at least have a neck brace I can use?" Her face lights like a Christmas tree. "No, but I could order one online for you. Give me one second!" You watch as she starts for the desk directly across from you on the other side of the room, a laptop sitting atop it. She slides into the chair behind the desk and pulls the laptop closer, typing faster than you thought possible. While she works, you decide to move, growing restless sitting on the metal table. Swinging your legs ever so slightly, it takes tremendous effort for you to slide off the table and you hold your breath until your feet touch the floor. You expect pain of any kind - or perhaps worse yet; no feeling at all - but beyond the stiffness in your legs, you feel nothing. And though you can't exactly bend your knees completely, you're able to walk in a semi-straight line. You might resemble a deer fresh out of the womb but you're proud of yourself nonetheless. //Score one for $name Doe.// "Done!" Rivka suddenly calls out, looking up from her laptop screen to where you stand some feet away from the metal table. She looks surprised that you're standing - not that you can blame her - but a smile quickly takes over her face. "If you're looking for the bathroom, it's that way." She points to the corner behind you and you look over your shoulder to see a wooden door that opens to what looks like eternal darkness. "Feel free to take a shower," she adds. "No offence but for a now alive person, you kind of reek of death." You shoot her a scathing look that she returns with a teasing smile. "Thanks," you mutter, making your way toward the bathroom on legs that only half cooperate. Once inside, you shut the door behind you and drag your hand along the wall in search of the light switch, flicking it on when you find it. Now able to see, the first thing your eyes land on is the mirror and your appearance, and your gasp of shock echoes off the walls. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<if $head_shot is true>>With her hands poised on your head, that giant needle hovering over your skin, you begin to sweat. You clear your throat nervously. "You sure you know how to give stitches?" You ask, glancing up at her. "I'm not really feeling the 'Harry Potter crossed paths with a gang' look." "I think you could pull it off," she quips.<</if>><<if $slit_throat is true>> With her hands poised once more at your throat, that giant needle hovering over your skin, you begin to sweat. You clear your throat nervously. "You sure you know how to give stitches?" You ask, glancing up at her. "I don't really wanna look like I got into a fight with a guillotine and lost." "You already look like that," she scoffs.<</if>> You shoot her a glare. "That doesn't answer my question, Rivka..." "Well," she pauses, chewing on her bottom lip. "I know how to sew clothes. That's close enough, right?" "I wanna say yes but it feels wrong to," you say, furrowing your eyebrows. You look at each other for a moment, the silence hanging heavy in the air. Finally, she nods decisively. "I'll look it up on //Youtube//." She turns on her feet, walking towards a desk directly across from you, atop which a laptop sits. You remain seated on the metal table, unsure of how well your legs work currently. You have only been alive for some twenty minutes, after all. "They have tutorials for that?" You call after her. She glances at you as she slips into the seat behind the desk and shrugs. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Probably.."</div>' 'three hours 8-1-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Fifteen minutes later, Rivka is once more standing in front of you, needle in hand as she gives you stitches. And if you're being honest with yourself, you don't even feel it - but that could also be due to the 'being dead for an unknown amount of time' part of things. Finally, she steps back, admiring her work with a satisfied smile on her face. "Good as new!" She says before pausing, a look on her face that suggests she's reconsidering her words. "Or rather; good as second hand." "Lovely," you mutter. She turns to place the needle and thread once more in the suture kit and you decide to test out if your legs function as they should or not. Swinging your legs ever so slightly, it takes tremendous effort for you to slide off the table and you hold your breath until your feet touch the floor. You expect pain of any kind - or perhaps worse yet; no feeling at all - but beyond the stiffness in your legs, you feel nothing. And though you can't exactly bend your knees completely, you're able to walk in a semi-straight line. You might resemble a deer fresh out the womb but you're proud of yourself nonetheless. //Score one for $name Doe.// "Oh!" Rivka says, looking at you over her shoulder. She looks surprised that you're standing - not that you can blame her - but a smile quickly takes over her face. "If you're wondering where the bathroom is, it's that way." She points to the corner behind you and you look over your shoulder to see a wooden door that opens to what looks like eternal darkness. "Feel free to take a shower," she adds. "No offence but for a now alive person, you kinda reek of death." You shoot her a scathing look that she returns with a teasing smile. "Thanks," you mutter, making your way toward the bathroom on legs that just barely cooperate. Once inside, you shut the door behind you and drag your hand along the wall in search of the light switch, flicking it on when you find it. Now able to see, the first thing your eyes land on is the mirror and your appearance, and your gasp of shock echoes off the walls. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You have no memory of what you looked like before - what you're supposed to look like - but you're almost positive 'drowned sewer rat' doesn't exactly cover it. Before you stands a... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">woman</div>' 'three hours 10'>><<set $woman to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">man</div>' 'three hours 10'>><<set $man to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">a person outside the binary</div>' 'three hours 10'>><<set $nonbinary to true>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

$Their hair - //your// hair - is a mess of drenched, tangled locks that are: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">shaved in a buzzcut</div>' 'three hours 11'>><<set $hair_length to "shaved", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'three hours 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'three hours 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose down your back</div>' 'three hours 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'three hours 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'three hours 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose down your back</div>' 'three hours 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'three hours 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'three hours 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose down your back</div>' 'three hours 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'three hours 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'three hours 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose down your back</div>' 'three hours 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><center><h2>Select a colour</h2></center> <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">black</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "black">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark brown</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "dark brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">light brown</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "light brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ginger</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "ginger">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dirty blonde</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "dirty blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">golden blonde</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "golden blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">platinum blonde</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "platinum blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dyed</div>' 'three hours 11-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">hot pink</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "hot pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby pink</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">violet</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "violet">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">lilac</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "lilac">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">electric blue</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "electric blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby blue</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">mint</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "mint">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">forest green</div>' 'three hours 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "forest green">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>>You stare into your eyes, which are sunken in and weighed down by dark, heavy bags. If you didn't know any better, you'd say you were Tim Burton's latest creation. Their colour is dull and lifeless - //pretty ironic//, you think to yourself - and what probably used to be a deep, rich... <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">black</div>' 'three hours 13'>><<set $eye to "black", $Eye to "Black">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">brown</div>' 'three hours 13'>><<set $eye to "brown", $Eye to "Brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">green</div>' 'three hours 13'>><<set $eye to "green", $Eye to "Green">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">blue</div>' 'three hours 13'>><<set $eye to "blue", $Eye to "Blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">grey</div>' 'three hours 13'>><<set $eye to "grey", $Eye to "Grey">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>>Your skin is probably the worst of all. Cold to the touch and dry as a desert, it's a greying shade of... <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">porcelain</div>' 'three hours 14'>><<set $skin_colour to "porcelain">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ivory</div>' 'three hours 14'>><<set $skin_colour to "ivory">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">beige</div>' 'three hours 14'>><<set $skin_colour to "beige">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">honey</div>' 'three hours 14'>><<set $skin_colour to "honey">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">bronze</div>' 'three hours 14'>><<set $skin_colour to "bronze">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">umber</div>' 'three hours 14'>><<set $skin_colour to "umber">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ebony</div>' 'three hours 14'>><<set $skin_colour to "ebony">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Safe to say you're not looking your best. Too bad there isn't a phrase meaning the opposite of a sight for sore eyes, you think, because you'd fit that description to a T. Tearing your eyes away from your reflection, you strip out of your river-sodden and blood-stained clothes before stepping into the shower, not even waiting for the water to get hot. You stand under the shower head, waiting for the familiar sting of ice-cold water to hit you but it never does. Even as the water begins to heat up, the bathroom steadily filling with steam, you wait for the temperature to turn to the flesh-burning extreme but it never reaches that point. If not for the clouds of steam swirling around you and your grey skin slowly turning red, you'd swear the water was barely even lukewarm. Perhaps in addition to rigor mortis, being dead causes slight nerve damage. Shrugging your shoulders, you get to scrubbing your body, something you're certain is going to take longer than it usually would. As good a job as Rivka did cleaning your arms of grime and dried blood and whatever was on your face (probably more of the same, you guess), she didn't account for the mess of your body beneath your clothes. <<if $slit_throat is true>>Your chest is caked in dried blood, which is now a rusty brown colour, that flakes off and falls to the shower floor as you scrub away at it. You guess it all came from the gaping slit in your neck, having no other open wounds that you can see. You vaguely wonder if Rivka did a good enough job stitching you closed; you specifically avoided looking at the cause of your death when surveying yourself in the mirror but as you run your fingers over the wound, the stitches seem to be holding up alright.<</if>><<if $head_shot is true>>Your chest is caked in more grime and dried blood, which is now a rusty brown colour, that flakes off and falls to the shower floor as you scrub away at it. After a quick scan over your body and finding no other open wounds, you guess the blood belongs to your murderer. You heave a sigh as you drag a soapy hand over your skin once more. You may not have won the fight against them but you can at least find solace in knowing that you made them bleed.<</if>><<if $broken_neck is true>>Your chest is caked in more grime and dried blood, which is now a rusty brown colour, that flakes off and falls to the shower floor as you scrub away at it. After a quick scan over your body and finding no other open wounds, you guess the blood belongs to your murderer. You heave a sigh as you drag a soapy hand over your skin once more. You may not have won the fight against them but you can at least find solace in knowing that you made them bleed.<</if>> You make sure to wash every inch of your body once, twice, three times until the water pooling runs clear what feels like hours later. One look down at yourself, you can tell you've scrubbed your skin raw but you're at least clean now and hopefully no longer smell like a dead person, and you tell yourself that that is all that matters. It's only once you shut off the water and step out of the shower that you realise you have nothing to wear besides the rags you'd discarded on the floor. You grab the towel off the rack and wrap it around yourself, resigning yourself to the idea of asking Rivka for some clothes. //As if she hasn't already done enough for you,// you scold yourself. <<nobr>>One more brief glance in the mirror tells you you've been upgraded from drowned sewer rat to drowned pet rat and you give yourself a congratulatory nod before you're walking out of the bathroom. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 15'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"Hey, Rivka," you call out, dripping water on the concrete floor as your eyes land on the necromancer's mess of brown curls. She looks up at you from her position on the other side of the room, where she's wheeled the tray next to a small kitchenette. "I don't suppose you have any clothes I could borrow?" Her emerald eyes rake over your body, presumably to try to gauge your measurements but you can't help tighten your hold on your towel. "I think so," she says as she steps away from the kitchenette, making her way towards a staircase on the opposite side of the room that you'd failed to notice until now. "I'll be right back." You watch as she disappears up the staircase before turning your attention to your surroundings once more. Besides the desk, kitchenette and morgue table; a lounge set sits in the corner and you make your way towards it on stiff legs, wet footprints marking the trail behind you. Making yourself comfortable on the loveseat, you wait patiently, your fingers still clutching the edge of the towel as if your life depends on it. Out the corner of your eye, you spot a book sitting atop the coffee table, the cover - or rather, the lack thereof - catching your attention. You turn your head to get a better look at it as you reach out to grab it. Up close, you see that it's hardcover with a glossy white book jacket void of both a title and some kind of illustration. But you quickly realise the nondescript nature of the book is the least of your worries. <<if $head_shot is true>>With the book now sitting in your lap, you watch seemingly in slow motion as a drop of the blood hits the pristine book jacket. It takes four more drops staining the book jacket crimson red for you to raise a hand to the wound Rivka had sutured closed, which on it's own is difficult enough, and when you pull your hand away, your fingers covered in even more blood, you do the first thing that comes to mind: scream.<<set $side_effects to "Complete stiffness in the facial muscles and limbs, partial stiffness in the fingers and toes; occasional bleeding from exterior wounds.">><</if>><<if $slit_throat is true>>With the book now sitting in your lap, you watch seemingly in slow motion as a drop of the blood hits the pristine book jacket. It takes four more drops staining the book jacket crimson red for you to raise a hand to the wound Rivka had sutured closed, which on it's own is difficult enough, and when you pull your hand away, your fingers covered in even more blood, you do the first thing that comes to mind: scream.<<set $side_effects to "Complete stiffness in the facial muscles and limbs, partial stiffness in the fingers and toes; occasional bleeding from exterior wounds.">><</if>><<if $broken_neck is true>>With the book now sitting in your lap, you discover that you can't move your head, your neck stuck in position. Filled with burgeoning panic, you release the book and bring your hands up to your head, which on its own is difficult enough, and you attempt what you imagine broke your neck in the first place. And when your head still doesn't move despite all your pulling and tugging, you do the next most logical thing that comes to mind: scream.<<set $side_effects to "Complete stiffness in the facial muscles and limbs, partial stiffness in the fingers and toes; neck will occasionally get stuck in place.">><</if>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $broken_neck is true>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item"><h2>"RIVKA!"</h2></div>' 'three hours 16-1'>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $head_shot is true>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item"><h2>"RIVKA!"</h2></div>' 'three hours 16-2'>><</link>></center><</if>> <<if $slit_throat is true>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item"><h2>"RIVKA!"</h2></div>' 'three hours 16-3'>><</link>></center><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

You're already on your feet, stumbling and tripping over the furniture as you continue to try - and fail - to move your head when the necromancer appears at the top of the stairs with a bundle of clothes in her arms. "What? What's wrong?" she asks, her green eyes blown wide with concern as she hurries down the stairs toward you. "My head is stuck in place," you cry indignantly. "That's what's wrong!" She trails behind you, her look of confusion turning to one of amusement when she catches sight of your predicament. "Oh," she says. "No, that's supposed to happen." You turn your body to look at her, mouth slightly agape and you narrow your eyes at the woman. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wait, really...?"</div>' 'three hours 16-1-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $cautious to Math.clamp($cautious + 10, 0, 100), $impulsive to Math.clamp($impulsive - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"No the fuck it\s not!"</div>' 'three hours 16-1-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She gives you a sweet smile as she sets the clothes on the coffee table. "Trust me, this is just a result of being brought back to life." She turns to face you, her arms raised and though reluctant, you let her step closer to help. "There's not really any explanation for it but it happens." "I'm so assured," you reply, your sarcasm eliciting a laugh from her. "It'll only last for a day or two." She takes her place behind you and her hands, warm and gentle, go to your neck before she hesitates. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." "I'm gonna be honest, Rivka; being alive no longer sounds fun." "Hush! I'm tryna fix your fucked up neck here," she says, laughing again and you can't deny your own smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 17'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Rivka only laughs as she sets the clothes on the coffee table. "Who's the expert on dead things here? I know what I'm talking about, $name." "I'm //no longer// a dead thing, Rivka," you counter, again pulling and tugging at your head to no avail. //Yep//, you think, //still not budging//. "And I'm very proud of that, I'll have you know." She gives you a brilliant smile. "Now will you let me fix your fucked up neck? You look ridiculous." You reluctantly lower your hands and let Rivka step up behind you, her hands settling on your neck, her touch once again warm and gentle. "So, remind me," you start, crossing your arms over your chest. "How exactly is this a common occurrence?" You glance at her as she shrugs. "Just necromancy things," she chuckles. "There's not really an explanation for it, it just kinda happens." "Well, that's reassuring..." "It'll only last for a day or two." She looks up at you, her face suddenly serious. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." "I'm gonna be honest, Rivka; being alive no longer sounds fun." "Hush!" she says, laughing again and you can't deny your own smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 17'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You're already on your feet, stumbling toward the kitchenette sink as your hands try (and fail) to stop the bleeding when the necromancer appears at the top of the stairs with a bundle of clothes in her arms. "What? What's wrong?" she asks, her green eyes blown wide with concern as she hurries down the stairs toward you. "Blood is coming out of my face," you cry indignantly. "That's what's wrong!" She trails behind you to the sink, her look of confusion turning to one of amusement when she catches sight of your predicament. "Oh," she says. "No, that's supposed to happen." You turn to look at her just before the sink, mouth slightly agape and you narrow your eyes at the woman. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wait, really...?"</div>' 'three hours 16-2-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $cautious to Math.clamp($cautious + 10, 0, 100), $impulsive to Math.clamp($impulsive - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"No the fuck it\s not!"</div>' 'three hours 16-2-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She gives you a sweet smile as she steps around you to grab a dish towel, setting the bundle of clothes on the counter. "Trust me, this is just a result of being brought back to life." Though reluctant, you let her pull your hands away from your face, a gush of blood briefly falling into your eyes before she quickly presses the towel to your forehead. "There's not really any explanation for it but it happens." "I'm so assured," you reply, your sarcasm eliciting a laugh from her. "It'll only last for a day or two." She looks up at you, her face suddenly serious. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." "I'm gonna be honest, Rivka; being alive no longer sounds fun." "Hush!" she says, laughing again and you can't deny your own smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 17'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You're already on your feet, stumbling toward the kitchenette sink as your hands try (and fail) to stop the bleeding when the necromancer appears at the top of the stairs with a bundle of clothes in her arms. "What? What's wrong?" she asks, her green eyes blown wide with concern as she hurries down the stairs toward you. "Blood is coming out of my neck," you cry indignantly. "That's what's wrong!" She trails behind you to the sink, her look of confusion turning to one of amusement when she catches sight of your predicament. "Oh," she says. "No, that's supposed to happen." You turn to look at her just before the sink, mouth slightly agape and you narrow your eyes at the woman. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wait, really...?"</div>' 'three hours 16-3-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $cautious to Math.clamp($cautious + 10, 0, 100), $impulsive to Math.clamp($impulsive - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"No the fuck it\s not!"</div>' 'three hours 16-3-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Rivka only laughs, stepping around you to grab a dish towel and set down the bundle of clothes on the counter. "Who's the expert on dead things here? I know what I'm talking about, $name." "I'm //no longer// a dead thing, Rivka," you counter, mistakenly moving your fingers ever so slightly and receiving a gush of blood in your eyes. //Yep//, you think, //still bleeding//. "And I'm very proud of that, I'll have you know." She gives you a brilliant smile. "Now will you hold still? You're getting blood everywhere." You reluctantly lower your hands and let Rivka press the towel to your forehead. "So, remind me," you start, crossing your arms over your chest. "How exactly is this a common occurrence?" She shrugs. "Just necromancy things," she chuckles. "There's not really an explanation for it, it just kinda happens." "Well, that's reassuring..." "It'll only last for a day or two." She looks up at you, her face suddenly serious. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." "I'm gonna be honest, Rivka; being alive no longer sounds fun." "Hush!" she says, laughing again and you can't deny your own smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 17'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She gives you a sweet smile as she steps around you to grab a dish towel, setting the bundle of clothes on the counter. "Trust me, this is just a result of being brought back to life." Though reluctant, you let her pull your hands away from your face, a gush of blood briefly running down your chest before she quickly presses the towel to your neck. "There's not really any explanation for it but it happens." "I'm so assured," you reply, your sarcasm eliciting a laugh from her. "It'll only last for a day or two." She looks up at you, her face suddenly serious. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." "I'm gonna be honest, Rivka; being alive no longer sounds fun." "Hush!" she says, laughing again and you can't deny your own smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 17'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Rivka only laughs, stepping around you to grab a dish towel and set down the bundle of clothes on the counter. "Who's the expert on dead things here? I know what I'm talking about, $name." "I'm //no longer// a dead thing, Rivka," you counter, mistakenly moving your fingers ever so slightly and feeling a gush of blood run down your chest. //Yep//, you think, //still bleeding//. "And I'm very proud of that, I'll have you know." She gives you a brilliant smile. "Now will you hold still? You're getting blood everywhere." You reluctantly lower your hands and let Rivka press the towel to your neck. "So, remind me," you start, crossing your arms over your chest. "How exactly is this a common occurrence?" She shrugs. "Just necromancy things," she chuckles. "There's not really an explanation for it, it just kinda happens." "Well, that's reassuring..." "It'll only last for a day or two." She looks up at you, her face suddenly serious. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." "I'm gonna be honest, Rivka; being alive no longer sounds fun." "Hush!" she says, laughing again and you can't deny your own smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'three hours 17'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<if $broken_neck is true>>You notice movement out the corner of your eye and you glance upward just in time to see a man come to a stop a few steps away from you. His eyes are wide, his gaze locked on Rivka's firm grip on your neck, and his mouth falls open in shock. "Rivka..." he starts as he looks between the two of you. The woman freezes as if she's been caught doing something wrong.<</if>><<if $head_shot is true>>You notice movement out the corner of your eye and you glance upward just in time to see a man come to a stop a few steps away from you. His eyes are wide, his gaze locked on the blood that covers both you, Rivka and the floor, and his mouth falls open in shock. "Rivka..." he starts as he looks between the two of you. The woman freezes as if she's been caught doing something wrong.<</if>><<if $slit_throat is true>>You notice movement out the corner of your eye and you glance upward just in time to see a man come to a stop a few steps away from you. His eyes are wide, his gaze locked on the blood that covers both you, Rivka and the floor, and his mouth falls open in shock. "Rivka..." he starts as he looks between the two of you. The woman freezes as if she's been caught doing something wrong.<</if>> "What the fuck is going on here?" <center><h2>END OF DEMO</h2></center>

Nothing. No thoughts, no feelings, no consciousness. It's as if you never existed in the first place. And maybe that's a good thing because that means whatever suffering and pain and hardship you experienced in the past wasn't real. There's solace to be found in that. But then... //something//. A heartbeat; a lifeline. A gasp of air that has a bout of coughs wracking your chest. Smells, sounds... a voice; the same voice that you're sure caused permanent hearing damage. "You're awake... welcome back!"<<set $meet_rivka to true>> You pull your eyes open - an action that drains your body of what little energy it had left - and after the burn of the bright light, the vague and blurry image of a woman's face enters your vision. She's smiling. A small part of you wonders if she's as beautiful as you think she is, but the thought is quickly passing. You realise she's speaking again. "Think you sit up?" Your own attempt to speak goes unaccomplished so you only nod in return. Granted, you don't know if you can actually sit up but you know you need to try. Whatever surface you're lying on has an incomprehensible pain spreading across your shoulders. And you'll be damned if you let some back pain get the best of you. Luckily, she gives you a hand; wrapping her arm around your back, she pulls you up into a sitting position before placing her free hand on your shoulder to give you a soft push backwards and when your back hits the cold concrete of a wall, you heave a sigh of relief. With your vision clearing, you realise you're sitting on a metal table and you know you've watched enough CSI to recognise it as the staple of morgue furniture. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">//Where the fuck am I?//</div>' 'hour 2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Looking around, you can immediately tell you're not in a morgue. //Thank god.// Judging by the concrete pillars, floor and ceiling, you figure you're in some kind of warehouse. But the household furniture dotted around makes you think someone has made this warehouse their home. That someone being the woman standing before you. You turn your attention back to her. You were right; she //is// beautiful. Dark, wavy hair; perfect unblemished honey-coloured skin and kind eyes the colour of emeralds. She busies herself with different materials and instruments sitting on a metal tray beside the table. You recognise a few things; bandages, rubbing alcohol, suture kit, //scalpel//. But you're not sure about the others and frankly, you're scared to find out; you know enough to piece together that they're surgical instruments but you can't help thinking that they look better suited to a mechanic. You find yourself hoping she doesn't plan to use any on you. She glances up at you and smiles again. "I'm glad it worked," she says as she picks up a washcloth and drops it in a bowl of soapy water. "I wasn't sure I'd be able to bring you back." You furrow your eyebrows at her, watching as she wrings out the washcloth before bringing it to your face. You don't stop her. "Bring me back?" you repeat, your voice a cracked, croaking thing that you don't recognise. An involuntary shiver rolls through your body as she wipes the cloth across your cheek, her touch gentle. You imagine you must look quite rough if she's forced to clean you up like she is. "From the dead," she clarifies with a nod. Perhaps that should be alarming to you but the act of her cleaning your face has a wave of calm settling over of you. She turns her efforts to the other side of your face. "I saw you floating down the river and couldn't bring myself to leave you there." //River?// You hum, rolling your bottom lip into your mouth in thought. //That would explain the dead sea. Emphasis on dead.// She suddenly meets your eyes, emerald green irises blown wide. "Where are my manners... I'm Rivka Mizrahi, your resident necromancer. But you can just call me Rivka." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'hour 3'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Her hand pauses in place, the washcloth pressed to your jaw as she looks at you expectantly. You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. She raises an eyebrow as her hands move down to your neck. "And... you are? I couldn't find any kind of ID on your body." You can only stare at her blankly. Name? //Your// name? Why can't you remember your name? That seems like something you should know about yourself... right? Maybe you just don't have one - although you severely doubt that. Again you open your mouth and without thinking, you say the first thing that comes to mind. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Jane."</div>' 'hour 4'>><<set $name to "Jane", $lastname to "Doe", $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"John."</div>' 'hour 4'>><<set $name to "John", $lastname to "Doe", $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Jay."</div>' 'hour 4'>><<set $name to "Jay", $lastname to "Doe", $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Rivka again raises an eyebrow at you but an amused smile touches her lips. "$name, huh?" she says as she goes to wring out the cloth. "Let me guess; last name '$lastname'?" You purse your lips, avoiding the woman's eyes. "...it's a family name." She drops the cloth back into the bowl to cross her arms over her chest as she stares at you. "Your legal is $name $lastname." It's obvious she doesn't believe you - what with the way she looks at you and how her words are posed as a statement instead of a question - but there's no going back now. You're in too deep. Again, you avoid her gaze. "It could be." A moment of silence that seemingly stretches on for eternity. "You don't remember your name, do you?" "Not really, no." She sighs as she picks up the washcloth. "What //do// you remember?" she says, returning with the cloth to now wipe at your arms. Looking down at your limbs, you see that your skin is covered in grime and something that looks distinctly like blood. //Yikes.// Looking back at Rivka, you wrack your brain for memories, any semblance of the life you led before dying and, apparently, being dumped in the river. But you come up short; your brain is empty and cavernous, ready for literally any piece of information to be stored within it. She glances up at you as you start to reply. "Absolutely nothing," you say with a sigh. "I remember how to function as a person, but not the person I was..." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"This must be what newborns feel like."</div>' 'hour 5-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Is this a normal part of necromancy?"</div>' 'hour 5-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100), $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She snorts as she takes hold of your other arm. "Probably," she says, briefly looking away from your arm to meet your eyes. "But hey, look on the bright side -" "There's a bright side to dying and losing your memories?" You grin at her. "First of all; you're not dead anymore," she replies in mock offence. "Second of all; you didn't let me finish." You raise your eyebrows at her, waiting for her to go on and she takes a deep breath. "You now have a clean slate; you can be whoever you want to be without any mistakes you previously made hanging over your head." "I guess that's true," you muse and she shoots you a brilliant smile, the gap between her front teeth on full display. "Although I think I'm gonna stick with $name $lastname for now. It seems fitting." She snorts again. "Whatever works for you, //$name//." You clear your throat, a new question burning on your tongue. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"So... how\'d I die?"</div>' 'hour 6'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Rivka frowns as she takes hold of your other arm. "I don't think so," she says slowly, carefully dragging the cloth across your skin as if in deep thought. "I've only ever resurrected animals though, so maybe. But I think the books would've mentioned that if it's true." You blink at her in surprise. "I'm sorry; did you just say 'books'?" She ducks her head, slightly embarrassed. "I'm, uh - self-taught." "What - you pick up a copy of 'Necromancy for Dummies' at the local library?" "Something like that," she grumbles, avoiding your eyes and you get the feeling that you've offended her. //Well, shit.// Now you feel bad. She was kind enough to bring you back to life, after all. That's gotta count for something. "I'm sorry," you sigh. "That was rude of me." When she doesn't reply, you try your best to think of something else to say and, possibly to your own detriment, you say the first thing that pops in your head. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"So... how\'d I die?"</div>' 'hour 6'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She glances up at you, stepping back to discard the cloth in the bowl of water, now void of soap and a murky rust colour. She quirks up an eyebrow at you. "You sure you wanna know?" "The suspense is killing me," you tease and she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Fine," she says. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Bullet to the head."</div>' 'hour 7-1'>><<set $head_shot to true, $death_cause to "Bullet wound to the head", $physical to Math.clamp($physical - 30, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Slit throat."</div>' 'hour 7-2'>><<set $slit_throat to true, $death_cause to "Slit throat", $physical to Math.clamp($physical - 30, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Broken neck."</div>' 'hour 7-3'>><<set $broken_neck to true, $death_cause to "Broken neck", $physical to Math.clamp($physical - 30, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You wince. "That would explain the splitting headache." She bites her lip as her eyes flick between yours and your forehead. "Well, technically; it's //bullets//," she says, twisting her fingers. "There are three entry wounds." "How do you know it's three?" She fidgets in place for a few seconds before grabbing a hand mirror off the tray and holding it up in front of you. Your eyes widen in surprise at the three distinctive bullet holes in your forehead. You even go so far as to count them, even though it's quite obvious how many there are. "Yep," you say, still in disbelief at the literal holes in your face. "That's three, alright." She places the mirror back on the tray before reaching for suture thread and what is probably the largest needle you've ever seen. "You also have two on the back of your head but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say those are exit wounds." She pauses, needle and thread in hand. "Which means you probably still have a bullet lodged up there." Your eyes widen further at her implication. "And that is where it will stay!" You reply indignantly. She drops her arms in exasperation. "So, what - I just stitch the holes closed with a bullet just floating around your brain? I don't know how medically sound that is..." "With all due respect, Rivka," you start, your arms raised in defence. "I don't trust you enough to go poking around in my brain." "Fine! Guess it's splitting headaches for eternity for you then," she says as she tilts her head back, sighing dramatically. "Will you at least let me give you stitches?" "I guess..." Your words are unsure as you eye the needle in her hands. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'hour 8-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"That's too //Red Wedding// for my liking," you grimace. She chuckles softly despite the subject matter and you can't deny your own small smile. "Just be glad you can still talk," she says. "Catelyn Stark's throat was slit so deep, she was left mute when she was revived." You scoff. "Yeah, I just sound like I've been smoking a pack a day for the past fifty years." "You look great for seventy," she says as she picks up a suture kit, pulling from it thread and a large, curved needle. She gestures to your neck and you nod, somewhat uncertain of her ability to give stitches. She steps up to you once more, this time close enough for you to smell her perfume, something sweet like candy, and the slightest hint of death - which you attribute to yourself, having been a dead body not so long ago. You hope to whatever God is out there that you no longer smell like that. You realise you haven't said anything and though you doubt she waiting for a response, you want to give her one anyway. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Dermatologists hate me."</div>' 'hour 7-2-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You smell really nice."❤️</div>' 'hour 7-2-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"You know, despite the undertones of dead person," you add and she chuckles softly, ducking her head. "Stop flirting with me," she says, though there's no hiding the smile that graces her lips. "Unless you //want// a giant scar." "You gotta admit that would make an excellent conversation starter." "Stop moving," she replies in what you assume is supposed to be an admonishing tone but you don't buy it, not with that smile." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'hour 8-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You furrow your eyebrows in concern. "That's a bit too barbaric for my tastes..." She crosses her arms over her chest, eyebrow raised in your direction. "You have an ideal way to be murdered?" "Yeah, it's 'to not be'." You tilt your head to the side and feel a painful click in your neck. //Yep, definitely broken...// At that, she laughs. "You make a fair point... although dying in your sleep seems a bit too lacklustre." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Would you rather a broken neck?"</div>' 'hour 7-3-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You are a strange woman."❤️</div>' 'hour 7-3-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<if $head_shot is true>>With her hands poised on your head, that giant needle hovering over your skin, you begin to sweat. You clear your throat nervously. "You sure you know how to give stitches?" You ask, glancing up at her. "I'm not really feeling the 'Harry Potter crossed paths with a gang' look." "I think you could pull it off," she quips.<</if>><<if $slit_throat is true>>With her hands poised once more at your throat, that giant needle hovering over your skin, you begin to sweat. You clear your throat nervously. "You sure you know how to give stitches?" You ask, glancing up at her. "I don't really wanna look like I got into a fight with a guillotine and lost." "You already look like that," she scoffs and you shoot her a glare.<</if>> "That doesn't answer my question, Rivka..." "Well," she pauses, chewing on her bottom lip. "I know how to sew clothes. That's close enough, right?" "I wanna say yes but it feels wrong to," you say, furrowing your eyebrows. You look at each other for a moment, the silence hanging heavy in the air. Finally, she nods decisively. "I'll look it up on //Youtube//." She turns on her feet, walking towards a desk directly across from you, atop which a laptop sits. You remain seated on the metal table, unsure of how well your legs work currently. You have only been alive for some twenty minutes, after all. "They have tutorials for that?" You call after her. She glances at you as she slips into the seat behind the desk and shrugs. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Probably..."</div>' 'hour 8-1-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You bring your hands up to the back of your neck, your fingers running over the very obvious broken bones that you find there. "Are you able to do anything about this?" You ask, staring at Rivka pointedly. "I'm not exactly a licensed medical professional," she says. "I really only know basic first aid." You frown at her, dropping your hands to your sides in disappointment. "Do you at least have a neck brace I can use?" Her face lights like a Christmas tree. "No, but I could order one online for you. Give me one second!" You watch as she starts for the desk directly across from you on the other side of the room, a laptop sitting atop it. She slides into the chair behind the desk and pulls the laptop closer, typing faster than you thought possible. While she works, you decide to move, growing restless sitting on the metal table. Swinging your legs ever so slightly, you slide off the table, holding your breath until your feet touch the floor. You expect pain of any kind - or perhaps worse yet; no feeling at all - but beyond a vague stiffness, you feel nothing. And though you wobble a bit on your feet, you're able to walk decently. You don't know what you were expecting to happen but you're surprised nonetheless. //Score one for $name $lastname.// "Done!" Rivka suddenly calls out, looking up from her laptop screen to where you stand some feet away from the metal table. She looks somewhat surprised that you're standing but a smile quickly takes over her face. "If you're looking for the bathroom, it's that way." She points to the corner behind you and you look over your shoulder to see a wooden door that opens to what looks like eternal darkness. "Feel free to take a shower," she adds. "No offence but for a now alive person, you kind of reek of death." You shoot her a scathing look that she returns with a teasing smile. "Thanks," you mutter, making your way toward the bathroom on staggering feet. Once inside, you shut the door behind you and drag your hand along the wall in search of the light switch, flicking it on when you find it. Now able to see, the first thing your eyes land on is the mirror and your appearance, and your gasp of shock echoes off the walls. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'hour 9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Fifteen minutes later, Rivka is once more standing in front of you, needle in hand as she gives you stitches. And if you're being honest with yourself, you don't even feel it - but that could also be due to the 'being dead for an unknown amount of time' part of things. Finally, she steps back, admiring her work with a satisfied smile on her face. "Good as new!" She says before pausing, a look on her face that suggests she's reconsidering her words. "Or I guess; good as second-hand." "Lovely," you mutter. She turns to place the needle and thread once more in the suture kit and you decide to test out if your legs function as they should or not. Swinging your legs ever so slightly, you slide off the table, holding your breath until your feet touch the floor. You expect pain of any kind - or perhaps worse yet; no feeling at all - but beyond a vague stiffness, you feel nothing. And though you wobble a bit on your feet, you're able to walk decently. You don't know what you were expecting to happen but you're surprised nonetheless. //Score one for $name $lastname.// "Oh!" Rivka says, looking at you over her shoulder. She looks somewhat surprised that you're standing but a smile quickly takes over her face. "If you're wondering where the bathroom is, it's that way." She points to the corner behind you and you look over your shoulder to see a wooden door that opens to what looks like eternal darkness. "Feel free to take a shower," she adds. "No offence but for a now alive person, you kinda reek of death." You shoot her a scathing look that she returns with a teasing smile. "Thanks," you mutter, making your way toward the bathroom on staggering feet. Once inside, you shut the door behind you and drag your hand along the wall in search of the light switch, flicking it on when you find it. Now able to see, the first thing your eyes land on is the mirror and your appearance, and your gasp of shock echoes off the walls. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'hour 9'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You have no memory of what you looked like before - what you're supposed to look like - but you're almost positive 'drowned sewer rat' doesn't exactly cover it. Before you stands a... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">woman</div>' 'hour 10'>><<set $woman to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">man</div>' 'hour 10'>><<set $man to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">a person outside the binary</div>' 'hour 10'>><<set $nonbinary to true>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

$Their hair - //your// hair - is a mess of drenched, tangled locks that are: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">shaved in a buzzcut</div>' 'hour 11'>><<set $hair_length to "shaved", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'hour 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'hour 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">straight and worn loose down your back</div>' 'hour 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "straight", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'hour 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'hour 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">wavy and worn loose down your back</div>' 'hour 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "wavy", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'hour 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'hour 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">curly and worn loose down your back</div>' 'hour 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "curly", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn cut short to your scalp</div>' 'hour 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "short", $short_hair to true>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose at your shoulders</div>' 'hour 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "midlength">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">coily and worn loose down your back</div>' 'hour 11'>><<set $hair_texture to "coily", $hair_length to "long">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><center><h2>Select a colour</h2></center> <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">black</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "black">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dark brown</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "dark brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">light brown</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "light brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ginger</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "ginger">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dirty blonde</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "dirty blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">golden blonde</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "golden blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">platinum blonde</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "platinum blonde">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">dyed</div>' 'hour 11-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">hot pink</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "hot pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby pink</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby pink">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">violet</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "violet">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">lilac</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "lilac">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">electric blue</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "electric blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">baby blue</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "baby blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">mint</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "mint">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">forest green</div>' 'hour 12'>><<set $hair_colour to "forest green">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>>You stare into your eyes, which are sunken in and weighed down by dark, heavy bags. If you didn't know any better, you'd say you were Tim Burton's latest creation. Their colour is dull and lifeless - //pretty ironic//, you think to yourself - and what probably used to be a deep, rich... <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">black</div>' 'hour 13'>><<set $eye to "black", $Eye to "Black">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">brown</div>' 'hour 13'>><<set $eye to "brown", $Eye to "Brown">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">green</div>' 'hour 13'>><<set $eye to "green", $Eye to "Green">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">blue</div>' 'hour 13'>><<set $eye to "blue", $Eye to "Blue">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">grey</div>' 'hour 13'>><<set $eye to "grey", $Eye to "Grey">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>>Your skin is probably the worst of all. Cold to the touch and dry as a desert, it's a greying shade of... <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">porcelain</div>' 'hour 14'>><<set $skin_colour to "porcelain">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ivory</div>' 'hour 14'>><<set $skin_colour to "ivory">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">beige</div>' 'hour 14'>><<set $skin_colour to "beige">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">honey</div>' 'hour 14'>><<set $skin_colour to "honey">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">bronze</div>' 'hour 14'>><<set $skin_colour to "bronze">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">umber</div>' 'hour 14'>><<set $skin_colour to "umber">><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">ebony</div>' 'hour 14'>><<set $skin_colour to "ebony">><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Safe to say you're not looking your best. Too bad there isn't a phrase meaning the opposite of a sight for sore eyes, you think, because you'd fit that description to a T. Tearing your eyes away from your reflection, you quickly strip out of your river-sodden and blood-stained clothes before hopping into the shower, not even waiting for the water to get hot. You stand under the shower head, waiting for the familiar sting of ice-cold water to hit you but it never does. Even as the water begins to heat up, the bathroom steadily filling with steam, you wait for the temperature to turn to the flesh-burning extreme but it never reaches that point. If not for the clouds of steam swirling around you and your grey skin slowly turning red, you'd swear the water was barely even lukewarm. Perhaps a side effect of being dead is a loss of sensation. Shrugging your shoulders, you get to scrubbing your body. As good a job as Rivka did cleaning your arms of grime and dried blood and whatever was on your face (probably more of the same, you guess), she didn't account for the mess of your body beneath your clothes. <<if $slit_throat is true>>Your chest is caked in dried blood, which is now a rusty brown colour, that flakes off and falls to the shower floor as you scrub away at it. You guess it all came from the gaping slit in your neck, having no other open wounds that you can see. You vaguely wonder if Rivka did a good enough job stitching you closed; you specifically avoided looking at the cause of your death when surveying yourself in the mirror but as you run your fingers over the wound, the stitches seem to be holding up alright.<</if>><<if $head_shot is true>>Your chest is caked in more grime and dried blood, which is now a rusty brown colour, that flakes off and falls to the shower floor as you scrub away at it. After a quick scan over your body and finding no other open wounds, you guess the blood belongs to your murderer. You heave a sigh as you drag a soapy hand over your skin once more. You may not have won the fight against them but you can at least find solace in knowing that you made them bleed.<</if>><<if $broken_neck is true>>Your chest is caked in more grime and dried blood, which is now a rusty brown colour, that flakes off and falls to the shower floor as you scrub away at it. After a quick scan over your body and finding no other open wounds, you guess the blood belongs to your murderer. You heave a sigh as you drag a soapy hand over your skin once more. You may not have won the fight against them but you can at least find solace in knowing that you made them bleed.<</if>> You make sure to wash every inch of your body once, twice, three times until the water pooling runs clear. One look down at yourself, you can tell you've scrubbed your skin raw but you're at least clean now and hopefully no longer smell like a dead person, and you tell yourself that that is all that matters. It's only once you shut off the water and step out of the shower that you realise you have nothing to wear besides the rags you'd discarded on the floor. You grab the towel off the rack and wrap it around yourself, resigning yourself to the idea of asking Rivka for some clothes. //As if she hasn't already done enough for you,// you scold yourself. <<nobr>>One more brief glance in the mirror tells you you've been upgraded from drowned sewer rat to drowned pet rat and you give yourself a congratulatory nod before you're walking out the bathroom. <div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'hour 15'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

"Hey, Rivka," you call out, dripping water on the concrete floor as your eyes land on the necromancer's mess of brown curls. She looks up at you from her position on the other side of the room, where she's wheeled the tray next to a small kitchenette. "I don't suppose you have any clothes I could borrow?" Her emerald eyes rake over your body, presumably to try to gauge your measurements but you can't help tighten your hold on your towel. "I think so," she says as she steps away from the kitchenette, making her way towards a staircase on the opposite side of the room that you'd failed to notice until now. "I'll be right back." You watch as she disappears up the staircase before turning your attention to your surroundings once more. Besides the desk, kitchenette and morgue table; a lounge set sits in the corner and you make your way towards it, wet footprints marking the trail behind you. Making yourself comfortable on the loveseat, you wait patiently, your fingers still clutching the edge of the towel as if your life depends on it. Out the corner of your eye, you spot a book sitting atop the coffee table, the cover - or rather, the lack thereof - catching your attention. You turn your head to get a better look at it as you reach out to grab it. Up close, you see that it's hardcover with a glossy white book jacket void of both a title and some kind of illustration. But you quickly realise the nondescript nature of the book is the least of your worries. <<if $broken_neck is true>>With the book now sitting in your lap, you discover that you can't move your head, your neck stuck in position. Filled with burgeoning panic, you release the book and bring your hands up to your head, attempting what you imagine broke your neck in the first place. And when your head still doesn't move despite all your pulling and tugging, you do the next most logical thing that comes to mind: scream.<<set $side_effects to "Neck will occasionally get stuck in place.">> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item"><h2>"RIVKA!"</h2></div>' 'hour 16-1'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>><</if>><<if $head_shot is true>>With the book now sitting in your lap, you watch seemingly in slow motion as a drop of blood hits the pristine book jacket. It takes four more drops staining the book jacket crimson red for you to raise a hand to the wound Rivka had sutured closed, and when you pull your hand away, your fingers covered in even more blood, you do the first thing that comes to mind: scream.<<set $side_effects to "Occasional bleeding from exterior wounds.">> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item"><h2>"RIVKA!"</h2></div>' 'hour 16-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>><</if>><<if $slit_throat is true>>With the book now sitting in your lap, you watch seemingly in slow motion as a drop of blood hits the pristine book jacket. It takes four more drops staining the book jacket crimson red for you to raise a hand to the wound Rivka had sutured closed, and when you pull your hand away, your fingers covered in even more blood, you do the first thing that comes to mind: scream.<<set $side_effects to "Occasional bleeding from exterior wounds.">> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item"><h2>"RIVKA!"</h2></div>' 'hour 16-3'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>><</if>>

You're already on your feet, stumbling and tripping over the furniture as you continue to try - and fail - to move your head when the necromancer appears at the top of the stairs with a bundle of clothes in her arms. "What? What's wrong?" she asks, her green eyes blown wide with concern as she hurries down the stairs toward you. "My head is stuck in place," you cry indignantly. "That's what's wrong!" She trails behind you, her look of confusion turning to one of amusement when she catches sight of your predicament. "Oh," she says. "No, that's supposed to happen." You turn your body to look at her, mouth slightly agape and you narrow your eyes at the woman. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wait, really...?"</div>' 'hour 16-1-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $cautious to Math.clamp($cautious + 10, 0, 100), $impulsive to Math.clamp($impulsive - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"No the fuck it\s not!"</div>' 'hour 16-1-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Rivka only laughs and sets the clothes on the coffee table. "Who's the expert on dead things here? I know what I'm talking about, $name." "I'm //no longer// a dead thing, Rivka," you counter, again pulling and tugging at your head to no avail. //Yep//, you think, //still not budging//. "And I'm very proud of that, I'll have you know." She gives you a brilliant smile. "Now will you let me fix your fucked up neck? You look ridiculous." You reluctantly lower your hands and let Rivka step up behind you, her hands settling on your neck, her touch once again warm and gentle. "So, remind me," you start, crossing your arms over your chest. "How exactly is this a common occurrence?" You glance at her as she shrugs. "Just necromancy things," she chuckles. "There's not really an explanation for it, it just kinda happens." "Well, that's reassuring..." "It'll only last for a day or two." She looks up at you, her face suddenly serious. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'hour 17'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You're already on your feet, stumbling toward the kitchenette sink as your hands try (and fail) to stop the bleeding when the necromancer appears at the top of the stairs with a bundle of clothes in her arms. "What? What's wrong?" she asks, her green eyes blown wide with concern as she hurries down the stairs toward you. "Blood is coming out of my face," you cry indignantly. "That's what's wrong!" She trails behind you to the sink, her look of confusion turning to one of amusement when she catches sight of your predicament. "Oh," she says. "No, that's supposed to happen." You turn to look at her just before the sink, mouth slightly agape and you narrow your eyes at the woman. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wait, really...?"</div>' 'hour 16-2-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $cautious to Math.clamp($cautious + 10, 0, 100), $impulsive to Math.clamp($impulsive - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"No the fuck it\s not!"</div>' 'hour 16-2-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You're already on your feet, stumbling toward the kitchenette sink as your hands try (and fail) to stop the bleeding when the necromancer appears at the top of the stairs with a bundle of clothes in her arms. "What? What's wrong?" she asks, her green eyes blown wide with concern as she hurries down the stairs toward you. Blood is coming out of my neck," you cry indignantly. "That's what's wrong!" She trails behind you to the sink, her look of confusion turning to one of amusement when she catches sight of your predicament. "Oh," she says. "No, that's supposed to happen." You turn to look at her just before the sink, mouth slightly agape and you narrow your eyes at the woman. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wait, really...?"</div>' 'hour 16-3-1'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $cautious to Math.clamp($cautious + 10, 0, 100), $impulsive to Math.clamp($impulsive - 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"No the fuck it\s not!"</div>' 'hour 16-3-2'>><<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100)>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

She gives you a sweet smile as she steps around you to grab a dish towel, setting the bundle of clothes on the counter. "Trust me, this is just a result of being brought back to life." Though reluctant, you let her pull your hands away from your face, a gush of blood briefly running down your chest before she quickly presses the towel to your neck. "There's not really any explanation for it but it happens." "I'm so assured," you reply, your sarcasm eliciting a laugh from her. "It'll only last for a day or two." She looks up at you, her face suddenly serious. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." "I'm gonna be honest, Rivka; being alive no longer sounds fun." "Hush!" she says, laughing again and you can't deny your own smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'hour 17'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

Rivka only laughs, stepping around you to grab a dish towel and set down the bundle of clothes on the counter. "Who's the expert on dead things here? I know what I'm talking about, $name." "I'm //no longer// a dead thing, Rivka," you counter, mistakenly moving your fingers ever so slightly and feeling a gush of blood run down your chest. //Yep//, you think, //still bleeding//. "And I'm very proud of that, I'll have you know." She gives you a brilliant smile. "Now will you hold still? You're getting blood everywhere." You reluctantly lower your hands and let Rivka press the towel to your neck. "So, remind me," you start, crossing your arms over your chest. "How exactly is this a common occurrence?" She shrugs. "Just necromancy things," she chuckles. "There's not really an explanation for it, it just kinda happens." "Well, that's reassuring..." "It'll only last for a day or two." She looks up at you, her face suddenly serious. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." "I'm gonna be honest, Rivka; being alive no longer sounds fun." "Hush!" she says, laughing again and you can't deny your own smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'hour 17'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $cautious to Math.clamp($cautious + 10, 0, 100), $impulsive to Math.clamp($impulsive - 10, 0, 100)>>She gives you a sweet smile as she sets the clothes on the coffee table. "Trust me, this is just a result of being brought back to life." She turns to face you, her arms raised and though reluctant, you let her step closer to help. "There's not really any explanation for it but it happens." "I'm so assured," you reply, your sarcasm eliciting a laugh from her. "It'll only last for a day or two." She takes her place behind you and her hands, warm and gentle, go to your neck before she hesitates. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." "I'm gonna be honest, Rivka; being alive no longer sounds fun." "Hush! I'm tryna fix your fucked up neck here," she says, laughing again and you can't deny your own smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 18'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly - 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile + 10, 0, 100)>>Rivka only laughs, stepping around you to grab a dish towel and set down the bundle of clothes on the counter. "Who's the expert on dead things here? I know what I'm talking about, $name." "I'm //no longer// a dead thing, Rivka," you counter, mistakenly moving your fingers ever so slightly and receiving a gush of blood in your eyes. //Yep//, you think, //still bleeding//. "And I'm very proud of that, I'll have you know." She gives you a brilliant smile. "Now will you hold still? You're getting blood everywhere." You reluctantly lower your hands and let Rivka press the towel to your forehead. "So, remind me," you start, crossing your arms over your chest. "How exactly is this a common occurrence?" She shrugs. "Just necromancy things," she chuckles. "There's not really an explanation for it, it just kinda happens." "Well, that's reassuring..." "It'll only last for a day or two." She looks up at you, her face suddenly serious. "Or at least I think so. That's how it goes for animals; it could be longer for people." "I'm gonna be honest, Rivka; being alive no longer sounds fun." "Hush!" she says, laughing again and you can't deny your own smile. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Next</div>' 'five hours 18'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You're already on your feet, dragging your uncooperating legs toward the kitchenette sink as your hands try (and fail) to stop the bleeding when the necromancer appears at the top of the stairs with a bundle of clothes in her arms. "What? What's wrong?" she asks, her green eyes blown wide with concern as she hurries down the stairs toward you. "Blood is coming out of my face," you cry indignantly. "That's what's wrong!" She trails behind you to the sink, her look of confusion turning to one of amusement when she catches sight of your predicament. "Oh," she says. "No, that's supposed to happen." You turn to look at her just before the sink, mouth slightly agape and you narrow your eyes at the woman. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wait, really...?"</div>' 'five hours 17-2-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"No the fuck it\s not!"</div>' 'five hours 17-2-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

You're already on your feet, dragging your uncooperating legs toward the kitchenette sink as your hands try (and fail) to stop the bleeding when the necromancer appears at the top of the stairs with a bundle of clothes in her arms. "What? What's wrong?" she asks, her green eyes blown wide with concern as she hurries down the stairs toward you. "Blood is coming out of my neck," you cry indignantly. "That's what's wrong!" She trails behind you to the sink, her look of confusion turning to one of amusement when she catches sight of your predicament. "Oh," she says. "No, that's supposed to happen." You turn to look at her just before the sink, mouth slightly agape and you narrow your eyes at the woman. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wait, really...?"</div>' 'five hours 17-3-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"No the fuck it\s not!"</div>' 'five hours 17-3-2'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<center><h1>2. Family Feud</h1></center> <<if $head_shot is true>>As far as awkward situations go, this one that you find yourself in is definitely the worst. You sit by yourself on the couch, now dressed in oversized sweat pants and a white t-shirt; Rivka managed to stop the blood coming out of your face so you at least don’t have to worry about ruining the integrity of your new shirt. It’s relatively silent, bar the argument going on upstairs.<</if>><<if $slit_throat is true>>As far as awkward situations go, this one that you find yourself in is definitely the worst. You sit by yourself on the couch, now dressed in oversized sweat pants and a white t-shirt; Rivka managed to stop the blood coming out of your neck so you at least don’t have to worry about ruining the integrity of your new shirt. It’s relatively silent, bar the argument going on upstairs.<</if>><<if $broken_neck is true>>As far as awkward situations go, this one that you find yourself in is definitely the worst. You sit by yourself on the couch, now dressed in oversized sweat pants and a white t-shirt; Rivka managed to get your head unstuck so you’re free to continue looking around with ease. It’s relatively silent, bar the argument going on upstairs.<</if>> You don't really know what they're arguing about; it's all kind of muffled thanks to the thick concrete that separates upstairs from downstairs. //Something, something, 'you promised mom you'd stop with the necromancy bullshit, what the fuck are you doing?'.// Perhaps you'll never know. It's all really uncomfortable and you find yourself fidgeting in your seat, itching for something to do that might distract you from the noise. Looking around, you consider your options. <<if $head_shot is true>>Your blood is still splattered on the floor from your desperate dash to the sink not so long ago and you can see that most of it has already started to congeal.<</if>><<if $slit_throat is true>>Your blood is still splattered on the floor from your desperate dash to the sink not so long ago and you can see that most of it has already started to congeal.<</if>> The warehouse-apartment hybrid is very large and spacious, and you can't deny you're curious to how Rivka has made this place her own. And then there's the book on the coffee table, it's nondescript white cover taunting from where you left it. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $head_shot is true>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Clean up the blood</div>' 'ch2 1-blood'>><</link>></center><</if>><<if $slit_throat is true>><center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Clean up the blood</div>' 'ch2 1-blood'>><</link>></center><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Explore the warehouse</div>' 'ch2 1-familiar'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">Read the book</div>' 'ch2 1-journal'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $friendly to Math.clamp($friendly + 10, 0, 100), $hostile to Math.clamp($hostile - 10, 0, 100), $rivka_friendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship - 10, 0, 100)>>It is your blood after all - a surprisingly large amount of it at that - and you're sure Rivka would greatly appreciate the help in cleaning it up. You pull yourself up off the couch and head to the kitchenette, carefully picking your way around the blood so as to not make a bigger mess. Opening the cupboards beneath the sink, you find all that you need: a bucket, sponges, gloves and more bleach than any regular household should have, as well as a couple of spiders that give you the stink eye as you disturb the order of cleaning products. You probably could've done without the spiders though. You fill the bucket with what you eyeball to be one third bleach and two thirds water before taking your supplies to the scene of the crime where you get down on your hands and knees and begin scrubbing away. You've made decent progress - the pool of blood now just a mere a puddle - when the agruing comes to an abrupt stop and the man storms down the stairs, tossing you a glare so heated it could've killed you all over again before leaving. He slams the door behind him for added measure, in case you weren't sure about how he really feels. With a shrug of your shoulders, you go back to cleaning. Rivka appears moments later, a dejected look on her face and a heavy sigh announging her return. You glance up at her as you lean back on your thighs, wringing out the sponge. "He seems like a delight," you comment dryly and she grunts, rolling her eyes at the door. She looks at you then and whatever comment she was about to make disappears down the back of her throat when she sees just actually what you're doing. "You didn't have to do that!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I know."❤️</div>' '2 1-blood-1'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, I did."❤️</div>' '2 1-blood-2'>><</link>></center> <center><<link '<div class="choice-item">"My mom didnt raise a slob... I think." </div>' '2 1-blood-3'>><</link>></center> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100), $rivkafriendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100)>>She smiles, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, let me help you." She's already begun to move towards you when you hold up a red-stained sponge to stop her in her tracks. "No way! I'm the one that bled all over your floor; you just relax and look pretty." Laughing, she nods and steps around you to the kitchennette. "Are you hungry?" She asks as she pulls open the cupboard beside the oven. "I don't know about you but bringing something back to life always works up my apetite." You toss her a incredulous look, a hand pressed over your heart. "I think you mean some//one//," you say. "I doubt an undead dog would be cleaning your floors for you." Again she laughs. "Yep, //definitely// hungry."

<<set $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100), $rivkafriendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100)>>She's already next to you on the floor before you realise it. "Let me help you, at least," she says, rolling up her sleeves before plunging her hand in the bucket to grab a sponge. Together, you clean up the blood and it's not long before the floor is spotless. "See? It's faster with both of us." You lean back on your thighs and smile at her. "Thank you." "No, thank //you//!" She says, dropping her sponge back in the bucket. "I always hate cleaning; I'd probably have left it like that for a few days." "That would make for some interesting decor," you remark. She shrugs, glancing around the room before looking back at you. "I don't know... I think the red tied the room together." "You're not getting any more blood out of me, Rivka," you say, though if what she said earlier is true, you know it's only inevitable that you'll bleed again. "Not yet," she says, winking at you before climbing to her feet. She steps around you and walks over to the kitchennette. "Are you hungry?" She asks as she pulls open the cupboard beside the oven. "I don't know about you but bringing something back to life always works up my apetite." You toss her a incredulous look, a hand pressed over your heart. "I think you mean some//one//," you say. "I doubt an undead dog would be cleaning your floors for you." Again she laughs. "Yep, //definitely// hungry."

<<set $rivka_romance to Math.clamp($rivka_romance + 10, 0, 100), $rivkafriendship to Math.clamp($rivka_friendship + 10, 0, 100)>>She tilts her head to the side, thinking about it for a moment. "Well, you've only been alive for close to two hours and your first choice was clean my floor, so I'm going to say she didn't." You pause, hesitating a glance at your reflection in the soapy, bucket water. Relfected back at you in red dissipating bubbles. Again the question of who you are resurfaces. //$name $lastname//. "Do you think she's out there somwhere? My mom?" You look back up at Rivka to find her watching you with curious eyes. "Wondering about me?" She frowns and looks away from you, down at her feet. "I don't know," she says earnestly. "It's possible, I guess." There's a tension in the air suddenly, from questions unanswered and words left unsaid. You know what she's thinking because you're thinking it to. //We might never know.// Clearing her throat, she slaps on a smile bright enough to light up the night sky. "Are you hungry?" She asks, steeping around you to walk to the kitchennette. There, she begins to pull open the cupboard beside the oven. "I don't know about you but bringing something back to life always works up my apetite." You toss her a incredulous look, a hand pressed over your heart. "I think you mean some//one//," you say. "I doubt an undead dog would be cleaning your floors for you." Again she laughs. "Yep, //definitely// hungry."

You stand up and look at the room around you. One half of the room contains the kitchenette, bathroom, dining table and Rivka's work station - which you had the honour of waking up on - while the other contains the living area, desk, staircase and a glass door ontop of a raised platform. Curiosity gets the best of you and you circle the couch

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