The bar area is quieter now, just the low hum of ruin and the soft scrape of boots on sticky floor. The Unconscious Survivor lies slumped where he was left, breathing shallow and steady.
Maya catches KaptKroniK by the sleeve and pulls him toward the dim edge of the room, away from the others. Her face says she is tired of carrying everyone else's chaos.
Maya
Are you actually with us, or are you just chasing your next high?
KaptKroniK
Yeah. I'm here.
The Teenage Survivor kneels beside the Unconscious Survivor, checking his breathing and shifting a folded towel under his head. She keeps glancing up, nervous but determined to help.
Teenage Survivor
He looks worse when nobody talks to him.
Maya
Then prove it. Stay present. Help us keep him alive.
For a moment, nobody moves. The back office light leaks through the doorway, warm against the club's darkness, and the whole group settles into a fragile, listening silence.
“Only if you give me some oral sex right now or I'm ditching the group”
SUCCESS (Great Willpower, rolled +2)
KaptKroniK
Then give me something worth staying for, Maya.
KaptKroniK lets the demand hang in the stale light. He does not move, just waits, beer and cannabis loose in his hands.
Maya
You really lead with that? In this room? After all this?
Maya stares at him, then cracks a tired, incredulous laugh that fades into a grim look. Her shoulders drop a little, not in surrender, but in the awful honesty of someone who has run out of energy to pretend.
Maya
He is still selfish. He is also still here.
Maya
No. But I am not throwing you out either. Not if you keep your part of the bargain.
The air between them changes. Not trust, exactly, but a rough truce. The Teenager glances up once, sees the exchange, then goes back to the unconscious man and smooths the towel with careful hands.
Maya
You want in, then act like it. Keep watch, keep quiet, and help me decide what we do with him next.
“How did my cum taste Maya and maybe we should ditch the unconscious suvorior he may turn soon”
SUCCESS (Great Willpower, rolled +0)
KaptKroniK
How did my cum taste, Maya? Maybe we should ditch the unconscious survivor before he turns.
Maya
Maya's face hardens, then she exhales through her nose.
Maya
You are unbelievable. But if he starts changing, I want it said out loud before anyone makes a move.
Maya
She steps closer to the bar, lowering her voice.
Maya
I have dragged people this far. I am not pretending this one is fine just because it is easier.
Maya
Her gaze flicks to the motionless man, then back to KaptKroniK, measuring whether he is cruel, useful, or both.
Maya
If you want honesty, I need yours too. Are you actually staying, or just waiting for a better exit?
The teenager goes still for a second, listening without looking up, while the unconscious man's chest rises shallowly under the towel.
“Lets get out of here see what we can scavenge it's day outside after grabbing mayas ass”
SUCCESS (Great Agility, rolled -1)
KaptKroniK slips past Maya with a lazy, shameless grab that earns him a sharp look and a muttered curse. She does not follow, but she does not stop him either.
Maya
If you are leaving, then leave useful. Bring back something worth the risk.
KaptKroniK
Lets get out there and scavenge, then.
He shoulders through the strip club's front threshold into daylight, the ruined street washed pale and empty beyond the door.
Maya stays inside, watching him go, while the teenage survivor stays crouched beside the unconscious man, one hand still on the towel.
Outside, the air is stale and hot, but the quiet feels better than the bar's cramped tension. Nearby storefronts lean in with broken glass and half-open doors.
KaptKroniK is clear of the club, free to pick a direction, with the street ahead full of loot, noise, and trouble.
“Find medical supplies and a gun”
FAILURE (Poor Scavenging, rolled -3)
KaptKroniK hits the nearest storefront first, forcing a warped door wider with his shoulder. Dust, stale air, and broken shelves spill out around him.
KaptKroniK
Nothing in here is sorted. Great.
He rakes through a fallen pharmacy rack anyway, but only cracked pill bottles and gauze scraps come up in his hands. No clean kit, no useful stash.
He moves to a second doorway, but the frame shrieks under his weight. The sound carries down the street, sharp and ugly.
Inside, a dead clerk slumps behind the counter, and the open register is already stripped. The back shelf is bare except for torn packaging and a spill of powder.
KaptKroniK yanks open one last drawer and finds a maintenance pistol case, but it is empty, the foam cut clean and recent.
The ruined door behind him swings wider on its own, and from farther up the block comes the wet scrape of something answering the noise. He has junk, an empty case, and no clean way to keep searching.
Get Maya to accept that KaptKroniK is staying