Chapter Sixty-Three: The Bad Luck Magnet
For the final time, we appeared back in front of the campfire. Camden was gone. He either died or hid for so long that he was Written Off. Either way, it was just the four of us, Dina, Kimberly, Anna, and me. My injuries had healed, so I was no longer in terrible pain.
But something else had changed. When I had been in the last story, I noticed there was something off about Douglas, the young character who had been so obsessed with removing perceived trespassers that he had, apparently, created the Straggler curse itself.
There was something about him I couldn’t put my finger on, something being hidden from me.
He had offered his own blood in exchange for his last wish—the conclusion of the same years-long Eldritch-induced mania that had corrupted Hesper.
He was no longer an NPC. He was an enemy. I didn’t find that out until being transported out of the story. Over two hundred years had passed between that story and the present. And yet, Douglas was still here. He had been here the whole time.
Douglas “Old Man” Akers
Plot Armor: 35
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Tropes
Unreliable Narrator
There may be a kernel of truth to this villain’s tale, but it is best not to take them at their word.
Telegraphed Reveal
While an astute observer will know there is something strange about this character, the specifics will be hidden from the player until the end of the story. The red wallpaper and insight tropes will not help you here, though logic might.
Curse of Life
This villain will wander the earth until they remove their curse.
Mouth of the Host
This villain will speak for the enemy.
Narrator
This character can tell stories that the players must play through.
Non-combatant
This villain cannot be attacked On-Screen until it attacks the player or is otherwise identified as hostile. Attacking it will not be effective, nor will it change the story. It will cause the player to go Off-Screen for a time.
“What were the creatures in the dark?” Jake, one of the two teenage NPCs from he beginning of the story, asked.
Douglas Akers laughed. “No one knows. Some say they were sirens, attacking the cult for the way they treated the women. Others say it was spirits of the land, offended that the cult worshiped a foreign god on their soil. I couldn’t say for sure either way.”
Again, it appeared that the story Akers told Rudy and Jake was different than the one my group had played through.
“But when you come out late on a night just like tonight,” Akers continued. “And you are very quiet, you can almost hear the whisp—”
Akers stopped talking.
He slowly looked away from Rudy and Jake, turning his head over to Anna, Kimberly, Dina, and me.
“Wait,” he said. There was a twinge of… desperation, I think, in his voice. “No. you weren’t supposed to see that. That wasn’t what happened! How did you see that?”
He stood up.
“That couldn’t be what happened,” the old man put a hand over his face. “It wasn’t my fault. This land is cursed five times over.”
He fell to his knees.
“The forest cursed the settlers because they did not ask permission!” he screamed.
The scenery changed, melted away.
We were back inside the Straggler’s Forest right in front of Old Man Akers’ cabin. It was the scene where he had explained the Straggler’s Curse to us.
“The settlers didn’t listen. They took more than they were allowed! That’s why they were cursed,” his voice came from somewhere above us. The Old Man Akers in front of us was looking around, wondering where the voice was coming from.
From all around us, Stragglers began appearing from the surrounding area. They were not the same Stragglers we had seen before. These were mostly members of the Lord’s Glory cult. I could tell from their clothes.
They weren’t all cult members.
Among them, several members of the Akers clan stood. In the center was Theodore Akers, the patriarch of the family who had gotten trapped there when Douglas created the curse.
“No,” Douglas cried. “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t ask for this.”
Unlike the other Stragglers, which stepped toward us menacingly, Theodore Akers did not. He stood still, unwilling to attack.
“The old man always thought he was so noble, didn’t he?” Douglas Akers continued to narrate. “Well, it took fifty years for that to change. Time changes all.”
The Stragglers changed. Now, they were gaunter, more decrepit. Their clothes had worn out. Theodore Akers had lost weight. Now, desperation appeared on his face. His time as a Straggler had stolen his restraint and better nature. He attacked along with the rest of them.
We ran toward the place we knew the exit to be.
Our Hustle stats were higher than the Stragglers'. We soon left them behind as we ran to escape. It turned out that running was a pretty good strategy if you knew the rules before entering.
Before we could get to the exit, Akers spoke up again. “But then you would know all about escaping the Stragglers’ Curse, wouldn’t you? You left your friend in the forest to rot. Ever wonder what a hundred years cursed to wander in a forest will do to a person? Let's find out.”
Suddenly, a Straggler appeared in front of us, sitting down against a tree. He was gaunt. His clothes were worn down to threads. The muscles that once made up his frame had now atrophied away. He barely had the presence of mind to look our way.
It was Antoine.
Kimberly ran toward him screaming his name.
Anna pulled her away. He was an enemy now. We could only save him by ending the story.
We emerged from the Stragglers’ Forest. We were free.
For a moment.
“The mines where all those poor men died, their lingering spirits reaching out and possessing those who come near, man and animal alike. But you didn’t like that story either, did you?”
We were transported again. This time, we were back in the mine.
“How did you find the cavern beneath the well? Why did you go there? You were just supposed to ride the minecart and escape. There was no evil entity in the mines. No waters brimming with power. It was only the possessed, that’s all.”
Sounds started to stir behind us. Clawing, scuffling.
“Run!” Anna screamed.
We didn’t have to be told twice. We ran forward along the underground tunnel as the possessed animals from the mine story chased us.
“That man from the forest wasn’t supposed to be there. How did you know about him?” Akers said.
The area in front of us opened up. There were trees there now, trees like those from the Straggler Forest. Standing amongst them was Nicholas. He was a Straggler again. Beside him was his mother, still possessed, still the Eyes of the Host.
They didn’t attack us but watched us as we ran by.
As we ran, dozens of possessed people began appearing around us and grabbing for us. They were miners, mostly. Corey, the activist NPC who had been with us in the cavern below also appeared. He lurched out at us as the others had done.
“Why did you go off track?” Akers repeated. “What did I do wrong? You weren’t even supposed to see the monsters hiding in the shadows, but you did.”
Suddenly, we were out of the mines.
We were running through dark woods. Something in the darkness whispered to me. I covered my ears as I ran. If they attacked, I was helpless.
But they never did. I never saw a single Cloven Woman. All I saw were figures moving about in the shadows.
We ran out into the clearing where the well was in the Cloven Women storyline. The young Douglas Akers was at the well. He was slicing his hand and letting blood drop down into the well.
I could hear Akers’ voice even with my ears covered. He was distraught.
“This couldn’t be what happened,” he said. “This mustn’t be what happened.”
And then we were back around the campfire.
Akers had collapsed onto the ground. He was sobbing.
“That is not what happened,” he said. “That is not the story! I can change the story, please let me change the story!”
Around us, the monsters were gone. Rudy and Jake were… all over the place. Maybe they had gotten attacked while we were running from Akers’ narration.
We turned and ran away from the land. As we did, the Plot Cycle hit The End for the final time.
We waited at the entrance to the property for half an hour. Camden got to us in ten minutes. He explained how he had survived.
“Luckily, my leg was broken, so every time they whispered to me I would try to walk out to them and the pain would snap me out of the trance. Then I hid under the fallen church. Used a pole as a lever to lift up a piece of timber and lower it back down on my foot. Pinned myself down under there. They couldn’t see me. I couldn’t leave. Then I passed out from the pain.”
He wasn’t sure if he died or not. He just woke up on the ground when the story ended.
Clever plan. Still got Written Off.
Antoine still wasn’t showing up. We were talking about going in to look for him, but we weren’t sure if the Stragglers’ Forest was operational still.
So we waited.
“There,” Dina said finally.
Antoine shuffled toward us from the western side of the field.
“Something’s wrong,” Dina said under her breath.
She was right.
As he drew near, he looked exactly as he had when we had entered the storyline, young and healthy, but his face was blank, trapped in a thousand-yard stare. His legs marched forward in an uncoordinated manner as if his mind barely had the will to move them.
He was crying.
“He’s Incapacitated,” I said. His Incapacitated indicator flashed the same as mine had been when I was stabbed. For me, it was because I was in great pain and had lost blood.
Why was his going off? We had just been healed at the end of the storyline.
We ran across the field to him.
As we drew near him, I saw the distant, broken look in his eye.
Oh no.
As Kimberly got to him, she grabbed him in an embrace, and he fell to his knees. Camden and Anna helped catch him from falling all the way over.
Tears rolled down his cheeks slowly in a continuous stream. He barely even registered that we were there.
How long had he been in that forest?
He raised his hand. Crumpled in his fist was a ticket. I couldn’t read what it said.
“Look at his tropes!” Dina said. Her Outsider’s Perspective ability had alerted her to them.
I did as she said. Sure enough, there was something very strange: Antoine had two tropes equipped that he had not possessed when we entered the storyline.
Where had he gotten them?
They were two of the most potent tropes I had ever seen in Carousel.
Bad Luck Magnet
Type: Rule
Archetype: Any
Stat Used: N/A
Sometimes, one character has all the bad luck. They fail at everything they attempt and make the other characters look competent by comparison.
With this ticket equipped, the player will be first in enemy targeting priority regardless of Plot Armor. All of their stat checks will fail. On the other hand, Allies will receive a buff in every stat check as long as the Player with this ticket is alive and not Written-Off. If an enemy casts a spell or aura on the party in any form, the player will be affected first.
If equipped to a Wallflower, the buffs to allies will be permanent if the player survives to the Finale.
Some people are born with all the luck. You should invite them to your funeral.
Failing every stat check was the same as having a zero in every stat.
On the bright side, this trope effectively buffed every ally in any stat they used while they were using it.
Wait…
You were having a nightmare…
Type: Perk/Healing/Action
Archetype: Any
Stat Used: Moxie+
In horror movies, the audience often has a view into the character's memories and nightmares. At the end of the sequence, the player wakes to realize that the scene the audience has just witnessed (usually in a montage or in flashes) was actually just a nightmare.
Traumatic Memories:
With this ticket equipped, the player can temporarily repress or—at its greatest strength—permanently heal mental trauma by pretending that a traumatic event was actually only a nightmare that the player has been woken up from.
Doomed Sequences:
The paramount application of this trope will allow the player to undo entire sequences within the storyline by presenting them as simply being a dreamed event—healing allies and giving the players a second chance. The Player must be a main character and have interacted with the enemy of the storyline before using this trope. The story can only reset to the midpoint of Rebirth. This application will fail if not perfectly executed and in line with the narrative.
Be warned: unless the player has established Psychic abilities, the second version of events will be completely different than the original version.
The player must be “woken up” by an ally whom they have an established connection with. Its effectiveness will depend on both of their Moxie.
Wake up from the nightmare of the past. Wake up to the horror of the present.
That one was… really good. If used perfectly you could undo Second Blood and a botched Finale. That was incredible. Of course, Antoine surely didn’t have the Moxie to pull that off, but still, he could use that trope to—
“Look at his nightmare trope,” I screamed. “Look. It can heal mental trauma. Read it!”
Kimberly was kneeling down over Antoine. She was tearfully trying to comfort him. She had been so preoccupied that she had not paid any attention to his tropes until I drew attention to it.
“How did that—” Kimberly started to ask. She read the trope on the red wallpaper. “What do we do?”
Antoine moaned dully. He must have been a Straggler for ages.
“Will that trope even work?” Dina asked.
“Yes,” Anna said. “It has too.”
Healing tropes of all kinds tend to work outside of storylines, especially the mental health perk tropes. All of the veterans had their favorites. Reggie used one of his alcohol topes regularly. Valorie always had her little candy “pills” on her. No one goes through these storylines without losing some portion of their sanity. Tropes like this helped you get some of it back.
I couldn’t remember seeing a trope that claimed it could permanently cure trauma at its highest power. That was very powerful.
“What do we do?” Kimberly asked again.
“Do we need to get him to a bed?” Anna asked. “It says he has to be woken up.”
I shook my head. “Just lay him down. We don’t need it to be perfect. It just needs to be good enough for now.”
“Lay him back,” Camden said.
Kimberly helped lower him to the ground.
“Close your eyes,” Kimberly said. “Just lay down.”
Antoine looked over at her. He suddenly appeared to recognize her. He breathed quickly.
“Close your eyes,” she said. She gently placed her fingers over his eyes.
He did as she said. Still, tears leaked out the corners of his eyes.
Kimberly took a few deep breaths and tried to calm herself. She was going to give everything she had to this. In a storyline, this would probably not work. Antoine randomly sleeping in a field would not fit most narratives.
But we were outside of a storyline. That shouldn’t matter as much.
I hoped.
I didn't know where this trope had come from or how he had gotten it. I wasn't even sure it would work. I just had to wait.
Kimberly placed her hand on the side of Antoine’s face. “Wake up,” Kimberly said softly. She moved her other hand onto his shoulder. “You’re having a nightmare.”
Antoine’s eyes shot open. He breathed in a deep breath. He looked around at each of us.
He grabbed Kimberly up in a hug. All the while, he was crying and laughing with pure joy and relief.
This continued for several minutes. Antoine would cycle between fits of joyful relief and horrified tears. The trope hadn’t healed his mind completely—we were far too low level to expect that—but he wasn’t catatonic anymore.
“I am so sorry,” Kimberly said. She had been crying too. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you behind.”
Antoine pulled back from her and said through a lump in his throat, “You didn’t… It wasn’t your fault. It was him.”
He pointed a finger back across the field in the direction of the gate.
Placed there, where he had not been before, was Silas the Showman.
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