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Initial Text
An expensively, if not tastefully, dressed young man approaches you. "Hey, I've got a bit of a plan that I could use your help with. Do you have a second?"
Summary of Choices
- Who are you? - information
- What's the plan? - Gain frat party fliers
- Can I have more fliers? - (After asking about the plan) Gain 10-11? frat party fliers
- Your plan is to throw a party? - (After asking about plans) information
- Ask about Utgard - (After learning about Utgard) information
- Bring up Emily - (After meeting Emily at the main party setup) information
- Give him pamphlets - (With fliers) information
- Leave him - Walk away
Choice Text and Results
Who are you?
He laughs. "Sorry, sorry. I'm Charles Freese the Third, but you can call me Chuck."
"Seriously," he brings his hand to his chin in a practiced manner, "I'm pretty sure nobody's ever called me Charles Freese the Third… except mom, when she wants me to clean my room."
He pauses for a second, like that's a hit with the people he normally hangs out with. "Um… anyway, I used to head up the Omegas here on campus. But I was in the hospital for… well, for that whole thing last Halloween."
What's the plan
He claps, although it's hard to tell whether he's supposed to be applauding you or just getting pumped. "Yeah, the plan."
"We take these," he hands you a stack of pamphlets, "and give them out to people. It's for our counter-party on Halloween, right here at the Happy Hour."
He smiles, flashing a row of perfectly white teeth. They certainly don't look out of place, but something about the grin is unsettlingly predatory.
You found: frat party fliers
Can I have more fliers?
He smiles broadly. "Can you have more? Hells yes you can have more!"
He hands you a massive pile of fliers.
You found: 10-12 stacks of frat party fliers
Your plan is to throw a party?
"Well," he sighs heavily. "I mean, okay, I think there's some seriously bad stuff afoot. I think…" he leans in closer, almost overpowering you with the scent of cheap cologne.
"I know it sounds crazy, but I think Midgard's up to something. Throwing the same party in the same place everything went so fucking wrong last year? I dunno what they're doing."
He leans back again and runs a hand through his spiked hair. "I mean it's not like I can walk in and punch somebody in corporate headquarters and make everything better, right? I can't, I dunno, spread the truth and expose them for what they are."
"I'm pretty much only good at one thing. And that is throwing a damn good party. And the way I figure it, they want people to go to their party, so if I can get everyone to come to our party, we just fucked their plan."
"It's not much, but you go to war with the drones you have, am I right?"
Ask about Utgard
He inhales a hissing breath. "Fucking Utgard. It's the key to some puzzle, I fucking know it."
He pulls a plastic bracelet out of his pocket, like the one's hospitals give to the patients wealthy enough to go there. "U15" is printed on it in large, block letters.
"The people who ran the hospital we were all in, they were part of some Project Utgard. That's what the U stands for. And apparently they're funding Emily's party." He breathes noisily again.
"I mean, maybe it's above board… maybe they're just trying to make amends or whatever. I don't buy it, though."
Bring up Emily
"Emily… man, I don't know any more. I thought we were tight, you know. There were only a few of us in that ward all year… but now, I dunno."
"I mean, maybe Midgard and the University are just funding her to help the healing process like they say… or maybe they're telling her that. But I dunno."
"Sorry, I've got a lot of questions and zero answers." He shrugs unhelpfully. "Women."
Give him pamphlets
He blinks a couple times. "No, see, I already know about the party. You should show them to people who don't yet."
Leave him
See Walk Away