Post by Deleted on Dec 3, 2017 18:39:02 GMT -8
Interactive Story is, well, an interactive story. I will write a short story, where at the end, scenes and scenarios are given. You may choose from the list given, or if you see a better option, offer that up as a scenario. I will then reply with the continuation of the short story, given the option you chose, and the process will repeat. I will write whoever is the first to offer up an option, as to keep things looking simple and reading smooth. At the very end, I will combine all the pieces and post it, so you guys may read the entirety of the piece without break or interruptions.
I plan to have the last option selected on December 16th, so that I may post the finale reply on the 17th for everyone to vote. However, if I'm enjoying this too much, or come those dates an end to the story would be too abrupt, I will continue with the story-line until the 23rd, wherein, no matter where the story lies, that will be the end of it.
If this is highly popular, than I will create another thread and do this with others throughout the year. I've already been wanting to do this and I think this will be a great test run. So without further ado, I give you...
Something about the month of December makes every month feel like a ray of sunshine. I'm not sure if its the last month of the year, a reminder I have yet to do anything worthwhile, or because it's a reminder that I still live my life alone. Whatever the reason, I've come to hate December, and everything related to it, including Christmas. You could call me a modern day Ebenezer Scrooge, or even a horrible representation of the Grinch. Whichever it may be, I try not to spoil others joys in life, at the very least.
I am a walking gravestone to some, to others a miracle worker, but to me, I'm simply a walking human husk. Yes, I'm a doctor, and to some that might seem like a great accomplishment, however, medical knowledge and the knife came easy for me, there was no challenge so when I received my certificate and graduated medical school, I did not feel like I accomplished much. I wasn't a genius, I couldn't write papers or run my own studies, it just seemed like an easy way, at least for myself, to earn money quickly. At least, at the beginning I thought that. Now my work is borning. That is all I can say about it, that and I hate it. Especially now that they have me on the night shift.
The dark was comforting, probably my only joy in life now-a-days. Its only tarnished by the fact that my destination was the hospital. It wasn't a very big or public one, but it still got lots of traffic, even at night. Which meant I still saw a lot of faces and personalities. Most of them were of the uncouth variety. I did not get along with those kinds of people growing up, so my mannerisms when interacting with them now are still awkward. I tend to try and avoid them, letting others take them. Better for them to deal with it than myself.
Sadly, that did not seem to be the case tonight. Coming in through the back-doors, already the area smelt heavily of uncleaned clothes and body odor. Draping my winter clothes on the hook, with the others, I slid on the white coat, distinguishing me from the nurses and patients, and sliding to the nurse station. Taking three clipboards, I look them over with mild-interest.
So far the only person here who didn't arise suspicion right away was Mr. Smith, but on closer inspection some information was missing. More than likely the name was an alias, possibly. Cynicism seemed to come to me as second nature, and finding no hope in the people living around me seemed to grow with the passing days. Hard not to when all you witness is crimes and cleaning up after them.
Walking in through the doors to the waiting room, holding the first clip board in hand, I ask in a loud voice, "...."
I plan to have the last option selected on December 16th, so that I may post the finale reply on the 17th for everyone to vote. However, if I'm enjoying this too much, or come those dates an end to the story would be too abrupt, I will continue with the story-line until the 23rd, wherein, no matter where the story lies, that will be the end of it.
If this is highly popular, than I will create another thread and do this with others throughout the year. I've already been wanting to do this and I think this will be a great test run. So without further ado, I give you...
Interactive Story: Dark Nights!
Something about the month of December makes every month feel like a ray of sunshine. I'm not sure if its the last month of the year, a reminder I have yet to do anything worthwhile, or because it's a reminder that I still live my life alone. Whatever the reason, I've come to hate December, and everything related to it, including Christmas. You could call me a modern day Ebenezer Scrooge, or even a horrible representation of the Grinch. Whichever it may be, I try not to spoil others joys in life, at the very least.
I am a walking gravestone to some, to others a miracle worker, but to me, I'm simply a walking human husk. Yes, I'm a doctor, and to some that might seem like a great accomplishment, however, medical knowledge and the knife came easy for me, there was no challenge so when I received my certificate and graduated medical school, I did not feel like I accomplished much. I wasn't a genius, I couldn't write papers or run my own studies, it just seemed like an easy way, at least for myself, to earn money quickly. At least, at the beginning I thought that. Now my work is borning. That is all I can say about it, that and I hate it. Especially now that they have me on the night shift.
The dark was comforting, probably my only joy in life now-a-days. Its only tarnished by the fact that my destination was the hospital. It wasn't a very big or public one, but it still got lots of traffic, even at night. Which meant I still saw a lot of faces and personalities. Most of them were of the uncouth variety. I did not get along with those kinds of people growing up, so my mannerisms when interacting with them now are still awkward. I tend to try and avoid them, letting others take them. Better for them to deal with it than myself.
Sadly, that did not seem to be the case tonight. Coming in through the back-doors, already the area smelt heavily of uncleaned clothes and body odor. Draping my winter clothes on the hook, with the others, I slid on the white coat, distinguishing me from the nurses and patients, and sliding to the nurse station. Taking three clipboards, I look them over with mild-interest.
Jackie Smithholding, 27, Single, No allergies or medications.
Broken arm, lots of pain, swollen.
Allan Broding, 19, Single, No allergies or current medications.
Broken Nose, lots of scrapes and bruising, possible broken ribs and fingers.
Adrien Smith, 24, Married, Allergic to amoxicillin and no current medications.
Stomach pains, high fever, constant and uncontrollable vomiting.
So far the only person here who didn't arise suspicion right away was Mr. Smith, but on closer inspection some information was missing. More than likely the name was an alias, possibly. Cynicism seemed to come to me as second nature, and finding no hope in the people living around me seemed to grow with the passing days. Hard not to when all you witness is crimes and cleaning up after them.
Walking in through the doors to the waiting room, holding the first clip board in hand, I ask in a loud voice, "...."
Who do you call for? Ms. Smithholding, Mr. Broding, or Mr. Smith?
