Meeting the Gang Leader

You curse yourself for your carelessness again as the gang leader approaches. You've lead your foraging teams this way many times before, but it's always been safe enough, and you didn't spot the threat this time until it was too late. Your team members huddle tightly around you.

Their leader is younger than you expected, almost as young as you. Her outfit is elaborate, obviously designed for show, covered with studs and spikes. It's tight-fitting to show off her physique, and low-cut in the front. You have to admit she wears it well. Her hair is long and dyed, with a clan insignia shaved into a patch at the temple.

Her eyes find yours and she gives a lazy smile and half-bow. “I'm Becca. A pleasure to meet you.”

You step forward, your heart pounding. “This is our territory,” you say. “You have no right to-”

“This is the part where you introduce yourselves,” she interrupts.

She's right. You flush, embarrassed at being schooled in protocol by a gang member. You stumble through introductions with as much poise as you can muster.

“What are you planning to do with us?” you ask.

Wrestle A Dragon

You are a legendary adventurer. Your body is the picture of fit physique from your travels slaying demons, arm wrestling bridge trolls, and killing at least ten bandits at once with one swing of your sword, so when it comes to being the biggest and bravest around, you're pretty sure you are one of the top ten if not number one. While on your way to your next adventure, you realize you are all out of elixirs, lotions, and potions, so you stride into a legendary alchemist shop not as legendary as you, of course, but nonetheless talked about.

Behind the counter is a strange-looking man, his air very arrogant, and he doesn't even bat an eye when you walk in.

You clear your throat and speak in a haughty tone, “You there potion seller, I require your strongest potions for my indomitable body.” You say, flexing a bicep as the potion seller looks you up and down when finally he scoffs, “Please, you are a weenie not fit to drink even my weakest potions go and bother one of those. Street peddling alchemist.” He says, dismissing you with a wave of his hand in a shooing motion. You are left nearly speechless at being called a weenie.

Awkward Dinner

You, Perry, and your wife Carly are meeting up with her parents at your home for dinner. From past experiences, it's often an uncomfortable experience and quite awkward. At that moment, your father-in-law arrives first. He's a gruff-looking man. He looks to be in his 60's, and he has a bushy gray mustache.

“Evening sir”

Your father-in-law replies, “Evening, son.”

He proceeds to explain why you're here, and what your wife has been up to.

“She's a handful, that one.”

“Oh, I know.”

Your father-in-law continues, “She's very smart, though, and I'm sure she'll do great. And, of course, you'll be a good step-son above us all.”

“I hope to make you proud.”

Your father-in-law says, “I know you will, son.” He hugs you.

Swimming Coach

You are Will, attending a swimming class for adults. You can't swim, so you're thinking of practicing swimming in a swimming class for adults.

You will be introduced to a female swimming coach. Her name is Shae, a woman who was once an excellent swimmer. She is beautiful, sexy and busty woman. She has a great figure so one piece swimsuit suits her very well.

Shae looks at you and says, “I will teach you how to swim from today. You will surely be a good swimmer. Nice to meet you from today, Will.” She smiles and you blush.

After greeting each other Shae takes you to the pool. On your way to the pool, you see her boobs swaying in her swimsuit. You blush your face with her sexyness.

Secluded Beach

Your name is Henry, and you are a 23 year old Male. You’re a big book nerd and tend to get a little excited about anything with books. So imagine your excitement when you see a book at your local antique store that looks older than your grandmother. You quickly fall in love with it and head to check out.

You quickly buy the book from the store, and as you’re doing this, your hand is grabbed by the owner. They look you dead in the eyes, she is an older women whose eyes are a bit faded, her wrinkly hand gripping onto to your own. “I heed you this warning before you use the book, remember to not change anything or stuck you shall be in whichever novel you have happened upon!”

You think this is a bit odd as you’re getting it as a sort of vanity item and head outside of the store. You quickly catch a cab back to your home and set the book on a shelf and go to bed. While in bed you feel a sort of calling, a weird feeling that you can't quite place. In an almost trance-like state you get up out of bed and head over to the shelf where you picked the book.

The book is slightly glowing and sort of pulsing with a warm orange light, you grab it off and see the title has changed to, “The Secluded Beach.” That's odd, because that’s the title of your favorite book, you start to open the book and a blinding white light pours out into room, you feel faint as the room starts to fade to black.

When you wake up and start to look around you don't know where you are. Though the surroundings look eerily familiar, you get up and with a start realize where you are, your inside of the your favorite book The Secluded Beach. You remember the old lady’s warning and realize what she meant, now you just have to figure out a way to get out of here, though you could check some things out first.

Alex's Mom

You are Alex, an 18-year-old college student that lives with his single mother in a hot suburban town in Arizona. You wake up to an ordinary summer morning. You stretch, yawn, and clamber out of bed, then you go take your morning shower.

After freshening up, you smell the alluring aroma of Mom’s Saturday breakfast—pancakes and sausage. You head downstairs, eager for your usual Saturday morning feast, and enter the kitchen. Like always, Mom is busy at the stovetop, flipping pancakes. Her fading ginger hair is tied back in a bushy ponytail, and she’s humming a peppy tune.

Beached Merperson

You are Myra a young Mermaid you gracefully glide through the ocean depths as you make your way towards a cluster of brewing storm clouds, you have taken up a rather dangerous activity for your entertainment riding waves created by storms. The water around you begins to get choppy as you swim into the radius of the menacing grey brooding clouds high above the darkening water, you swim into a small forming wave and use the momentum of its surge to leap into the embrace of the sky feeling the winds picking up and the steadily growing downpour and cracks of thunder as the storm truly commences, the water becomes tumultuous and the currents and waves get more assertive but it's nothing you can't handle yet.

Eventually, you begin to tire out and prepare to dive back into the depths and break away from the storm that is until you see an absolutely giant wave growing larger and larger the smart move would be to dive and swim to safety and escape but... You just can't let something like this pass you by. You allow the current to sweep you into the growing wave and you begin to swim higher and higher reaching the peak of the tidal wave the sound of crashing thunder, dancing lightning, heavy rain, and the sound of the tidal wave carrying you is deafening all of this crescendos in an amazing dopamine rush as you laugh in the face of mother nature.

On the Island

You are Yael an 19 year old girl who washed up on a strange and deserted island after the ship you were on mysteriously sank... you wake up noticing that your completely naked on the wet sand... the weather is cloudy and it looks like rain approaching. Fortunately for you, there seems to be a hollow log that you can use for shelter. You begin to make your way towards the log when you hear the distant rumbling of thunder making you feel a little uneasy. The Island is deserted and has no residents, it seems that nature is in charge here.... your bare feet making a squelching sound as you finally get close to the log and duck just in time for the rain to begin pelting you... luckily its only for a moment. You reach the log and decide to investigate the rumbling.

You duck inside just in time to miss the monsoon that sweeps through the beach. The palm trees sway and the pelting begins to seem more violent as if the clouds were trying to bash you into submission. You hunker down and wrap yourself into the log.

For what feels like an hour, the rain drenches the beach and the thunder rumbles ever closer until finally it stops... and the sky begins to clear. You slowly open your eyes and see that the log has saved your life. You are so thankful. Gingerly, you peer out onto the beach to see if the coast is clear.

It seems that nature has given you a blessing. The beach is relatively deserted.

Demoness (Round 2)

It had to be- what, 10:30 PM? You were walking home after a night of partying.

… Well, your friends partied. For some reason all that partying wasn't fitting your current vibe. So, while your friends started partying even harder, you started walking home.

It must have been in that alley next to 42nd street when you saw her, curled up against a wall. She was obviously one of those stereotypical Demoness2 girls, with raven black hair in a Bob cut, black lipstick, and a black hoodie.

You wouldn't even have paid her any mind, had she not had terrible gashes on her knees and bruises almost everywhere else, you would've continued walking. Instead, you walked up to her, and simply ask, “Hey, are you alright?”

The girl looks up at you, with a cut on her cheek, and says in a soft voice, “I'm-” she coughs, and a single drop of blood trickles out of her mouth, “… fine. Thanks for asking.”

She then looks back down and curls up into a fetal position, her back to the wall.

Lone Goth

It had to be- what, 10:30 PM? You were walking home after a night of partying.

… Well, your friends partied. For some reason all that partying wasn't fitting your current vibe. So, while your friends started partying even harder, you started walking home.

It must have been in that alley next to 42nd street when you saw her, curled up against a wall. She was obviously one of those stereotypical Goth girls, with raven black hair in a Bob cut, black lipstick, and a black hoodie.

You wouldn't even have paid her any mind, had she not had terrible gashes on her knees and bruises almost everywhere else, you would've continued walking. Instead, you walked up to her, and simply ask, “Hey, are you alright?”

The girl looks up at you, with a cut on her cheek, and says in a soft voice, “I'm-” she coughs, and a single drop of blood trickles out of her mouth, “… fine. Thanks for asking.”

She then looks back down and curls up into a fetal position, her back to the wall.