A young lady stands in her room. It just so happens that today, the twelfth of June, is the day that everyone dies. You’ve been looking forward to it for a while actually, and while those two statements are not mutually exclusive, they are not correlated. What is this young girl’s name?
> GIRTHY JERKASS X
Try again, smartass.
> BELL WOLFE O
Had today been this girl’s birthday, perhaps one might have been able to name her, but such an event occurred three years ago. Her HONORARY PLACRONYM is already filled out!
Your name is Bell, and you have a wide variety of INTERESTS, evident with just a cursory glance around your room. As seen by your bat, glove and worn balls by your desk, you have an affinity for BASEBALL. Your shelves are packed more with GAMES than they are with books. An old filing cabinet holds the records of your CASES, as you enjoy SOLVING CRIMES. Even if those crimes tend to be lost items, or playground squabbles.
What will you do?
> Bell: Retrieve arms.
No sir, you’re not interested in rehashing old memes so worn that they were ignored even in the source material. Maybe you should try again with something less pointless.
> Bell: Squawk like a imbecile and shit on your desk.
You have no inclination of doing something so stupid and useless.
> Bell: Do something less stupid and useless.
Gladly. You head over to your dresser to retrieve your arms. Opening it up, a bunch of shitty handcuffs fall out. Of course that was going to happen, you knew those were in there. You don’t even know why you bothered looking. Besides, if you wanted to arm yourself, your trusty baseball bat is right over there. You take the pile of cuffs, and store them in your sylladex. Your current modus attributes it to one space on a wheel. If you want retrieve your pile of shitty cuffs, you’re going to have to spin for it, and hope for the best.
> Bell: Examine the rest of your room.
Sure thing. The one corner of the room you currently stand in doesn’t have much to it. Other than your CLOSET OF CUFFS you have a few posters pasted up on the walls. Most of them being from recently released video game titles, or of art bought at conventions. Beside the closet is your filing cabinet, littered with candles and various junk on top. Opposite of this is where your computer desk sits. Your laptop is closed atop it, with your notebooks piled up beside it. Next to that is your TV and your game consoles. The controllers are somewhere around here. Other then that you have your shelves above the desk, lined with different game titles. Moving on to another corner you have your bed and night stand. Not much to talk about there. It has blue sheets. Across from the foot of your bed is the last described corner of your room is. There you have a trunk filled with a bunch of old kids toys you haven’t tossed out yet. And your board game collection. Of which is quite vast. A few stuffed animals, a magnifying glass, and a plastic badge sit blocking the way into the old box. A plastic fan is unplugged, pushed beside the trunk and out of the way. As well as a few cardboard boxes, holding the parts for the computer tower you want to put together. Saving up the money for all the parts is taking some time though.
> Bell: This is boring. Answer the one with maroon text.
It looks like one of your chums is pestering you. You wonder what they could want? You sit down at your laptop and try to find out.
> Bell: Exit room.
Not before you store your baseball bat in your strife deck. If you plan on running into her, then you’d better be ready to throw down. With that settled you open the door and-
> [ S ] STRIFE!
Woah! Mom’s going on the offense today. Good thing you have your bat at the ready. You attempt to AGGRIEVE with little effect. As per usual your bat swings don’t seem to do much. She counters easily and uses her GUARDIAN RUBRIC to forcefully give you a gift. You fail to ABJURE and end up with an armful of maroon colored package, and your butt on the floor. You captchalogue it, but with your sylladex so stuffed full of crap it ejects your pile of shitty cuffs. The mess draws upon her GUARDIAN IRE. With a flash they were scooped up and deposited on your bed, with one pair now around your wrists. In a second you’re free. Even if they were real, you have a knack for getting out them. Equipping your bat again you take another AGGRIEVE chance. You’re attacks are easily AVANT-GUARDED and countered with a puff of glitter to the face. In your shiny and dazed state you hear the sound of a closing door, and a loud THUMP. She’s blocked the door with another of her cast statues you bet. You sit up and start to clean the shiny pink flecks from yourself. You win this round mom. You win this round.
> Bell: Message Ryan.
> GIRTHY JERKASS X
Try again, smartass.
> BELL WOLFE O
Had today been this girl’s birthday, perhaps one might have been able to name her, but such an event occurred three years ago. Her HONORARY PLACRONYM is already filled out!
Your name is Bell, and you have a wide variety of INTERESTS, evident with just a cursory glance around your room. As seen by your bat, glove and worn balls by your desk, you have an affinity for BASEBALL. Your shelves are packed more with GAMES than they are with books. An old filing cabinet holds the records of your CASES, as you enjoy SOLVING CRIMES. Even if those crimes tend to be lost items, or playground squabbles.
What will you do?
> Bell: Retrieve arms.
No sir, you’re not interested in rehashing old memes so worn that they were ignored even in the source material. Maybe you should try again with something less pointless.
> Bell: Squawk like a imbecile and shit on your desk.
You have no inclination of doing something so stupid and useless.
> Bell: Do something less stupid and useless.
Gladly. You head over to your dresser to retrieve your arms. Opening it up, a bunch of shitty handcuffs fall out. Of course that was going to happen, you knew those were in there. You don’t even know why you bothered looking. Besides, if you wanted to arm yourself, your trusty baseball bat is right over there. You take the pile of cuffs, and store them in your sylladex. Your current modus attributes it to one space on a wheel. If you want retrieve your pile of shitty cuffs, you’re going to have to spin for it, and hope for the best.
> Bell: Examine the rest of your room.
Sure thing. The one corner of the room you currently stand in doesn’t have much to it. Other than your CLOSET OF CUFFS you have a few posters pasted up on the walls. Most of them being from recently released video game titles, or of art bought at conventions. Beside the closet is your filing cabinet, littered with candles and various junk on top. Opposite of this is where your computer desk sits. Your laptop is closed atop it, with your notebooks piled up beside it. Next to that is your TV and your game consoles. The controllers are somewhere around here. Other then that you have your shelves above the desk, lined with different game titles. Moving on to another corner you have your bed and night stand. Not much to talk about there. It has blue sheets. Across from the foot of your bed is the last described corner of your room is. There you have a trunk filled with a bunch of old kids toys you haven’t tossed out yet. And your board game collection. Of which is quite vast. A few stuffed animals, a magnifying glass, and a plastic badge sit blocking the way into the old box. A plastic fan is unplugged, pushed beside the trunk and out of the way. As well as a few cardboard boxes, holding the parts for the computer tower you want to put together. Saving up the money for all the parts is taking some time though.
> Bell: This is boring. Answer the one with maroon text.
It looks like one of your chums is pestering you. You wonder what they could want? You sit down at your laptop and try to find out.
> Bell: Exit room.
Not before you store your baseball bat in your strife deck. If you plan on running into her, then you’d better be ready to throw down. With that settled you open the door and-
> [ S ] STRIFE!
Woah! Mom’s going on the offense today. Good thing you have your bat at the ready. You attempt to AGGRIEVE with little effect. As per usual your bat swings don’t seem to do much. She counters easily and uses her GUARDIAN RUBRIC to forcefully give you a gift. You fail to ABJURE and end up with an armful of maroon colored package, and your butt on the floor. You captchalogue it, but with your sylladex so stuffed full of crap it ejects your pile of shitty cuffs. The mess draws upon her GUARDIAN IRE. With a flash they were scooped up and deposited on your bed, with one pair now around your wrists. In a second you’re free. Even if they were real, you have a knack for getting out them. Equipping your bat again you take another AGGRIEVE chance. You’re attacks are easily AVANT-GUARDED and countered with a puff of glitter to the face. In your shiny and dazed state you hear the sound of a closing door, and a loud THUMP. She’s blocked the door with another of her cast statues you bet. You sit up and start to clean the shiny pink flecks from yourself. You win this round mom. You win this round.
> Bell: Message Ryan.
wherein your PokeModus assigns it three pokemon. 
and head out of the alleyway you've fallen into. You turn the corner and enter the building's lobby, a vision of velvety red. You normally take the stairs because of how it gets you exercise in the one area you can't work on comfortably in your apartment, (cardio) but fuck that. You just want to sit down outside of your apartment for now and finish off your Nidoking. When the elevator dings for your floor and you step outside, you can’t help but stare in unbelieving horror at the empty space outside of your apartment door. You internally groan as your march your way to your apartment as you realize that this entire ordeal has been a fool’s errand all along. That is, until you notice that the door to your apartment has been left unlocked and slightly ajar.