Let Me Go Gravity - The Reaper's Game CYOA

A, because she probably rocks the pink.

A is the one I vote for

because the book could be about Science and we should check out the chick w/ pink hair for Science?? Yeah for Science

Aw, snap.

B for Bushy Beards in labcoats. Er, and labcoats.

A, a tanned guy reading a book could quite possibly be both smart and athletic, which means that assuming these people are going to be allies, the chances that he could be useful are fairly good.

A, because I like books and that guy is bloodu brillant for reading.

And because I know someone with a pink streak in her hair.

Alright, up front it is. Time for a blissfully short walk down the aisle where everyone avoids eye contact with you. The Asian girl shifts over immediately seeing my approach but the other guy seems too engrossed to notice.

T-minus 3 minutes

The girl is perfectly wearing the get up that every short Asian girl between 16 and 25 tries to accomplish. Ear buds in, tuning out the world. She's staring out the opposite window, wearing shades that are probably meant for anime eyes despite the darkening skies. Her cute-style boots and black leggings lead up to a pair of jean shorts that are way too small to wear with anything else. On top she's got an open grey hoodie that's too big for her and a t-shirt that could maybe cover her midriff if she's lucky. She's got the whole "better than you" face down pat, and she wraps herself like a present. The pink streak that runs from the front of her bangs all the way down her shoulder-blade length hair is just the ribbon on top.

T-minus 2 minutes

The guy is easier to observe seeing as he seems completely oblivious to my glances. What's that book he's so engrossed in..."Abnormal Psychology"? Textbook? On a Saturday afternoon? Well, he's certainly got that studious gene yours truly lacks with a passion. With a closer look, and taking his short brown mop of a haircut into account, he's not just tanned, he's probably Latino. He's wearing plain jeans and a blue t-shirt, both clean and fitting just right. He definitely wasn't planning for rain, but it's not like he's letting appearances go. He seems fit. His shoes are well worn runners, with a tangle of shoelaces that suggests he never bothers with them. Still, he's clean shaven and could probably turn some heads if he ever decided to get his out of that book.

T minus 1 minute

The bus turns a corner and that familiar awkwardness cues in while everyone tries not to lean on the person next to them. Look to the left and Mr. Psychology is as nonplussed as ever. Look to the right and the girl's dug her feet into the ground, avoiding contact with me as diligently as possible. Look up out the window and oh my god there's a cement truck headed right

---

"Ah...Michael Cooper. Welcome to The Reaper's Game, and haply thou hast come indeed "

...what? Where am I?

Mike appeared in some sort of white room. His usual acute sense of awareness quickly caught onto the fact that he's on a raised platform, looking out at a wide auditorium. Curtains hung on the ceiling above and around him. He was on some sort of stage and the person now speaking to him was sitting front and center in the audience.

"Thou art dead. No physician's art can save you."

"...WHAT?"

The man in the audience speaking was an imposing Asian man. Built like a predator. Hair coiffed and bangs spiked with style. Black leather jacket over a white collared shirt, ripped blue jeans and Mike really has to turn his observation shtick off. Alright. Dead. Right, right yeah, the...the bus...truck...dead. Afterlife? Let that soak in for a bit...

"Attend my humble offering young one," the man continued, seemingly enjoying the flabbergasted look on Mike's face, "The Reaper's Game. A meager week of trials. A gauntlet thrown, to prove your worth and claim the just rewards your life hath earned!"

"Uh...alright, sorry, hold up. I'm still thinking about being...dead. Slower please, and like, in English?"

The man shook his head, got up from his chair and, to Mike's bewilderment, simply floated up to join him on the stage.

"Fie! What misplaced talent. Very well. I am the Conductor of this city's Underground. You are dead. And if you wish to save possession of your soul you must play a game. You will be tested every day for a week in the UG, and if you survive until the end you may be rewarded. But beware the Noise, some hell beasts bent on seeing you erased. You must make a pact with another Player to fight the Noise and stave off erasure, and you will work with them to complete your daily missions. What say you?"

"Guh...uh," Mike was stuttering, "Well, I'm already dead right? I've got nothing to lose. Sure. Bring it!"

The man smiled and backed off.

"Ah what spirit! Godspeed young Michael! Remember, your power is yet unknown, and your Soul gives you your power, manifesting in objects called Psychs. Your Entry Fee has been collected, and here art thy Player Pin."

Something round and circular dropped into Mike's hands. It was a pin with a skull on it, but Mike was still a sentence behind in keeping up.

"Wait, entry fee?"

"Yes, I hath taken what thou hold most dear. A fitting trade for a chance to reclaim life, wouldn't thou agree?"

"Hold most dear...uh, that's...what NO!"

"A certain...Clara I believe, yes? Hold now gentle player! Your fee will be returned upon your victory. I hope to see you in a week. Farewell!"

The curtains shut and Mike's world plunged into darkness.

---

"Make a pact with me! Make a pact right now! Someone! Anyone!"

Ugh, Mike could hear someone shouting. In a...UK accent. Ok. He opened his eyes and bolted upright, realizing he had been lying in a puddle in the middle of the street. He looked around. Robson and Granville and what the hell are those frog things? There were these...technicolor frog things all around eyeing him like he's lunch.

"Pact! Now! You heard the man right? We're in trouble!"

Mike looked around. People were walking right past him like he, and the frogs, were invisible. One of the frogs spat bubbles at him and OH SNAP that stings!

He back pedaled and quickly looked for who was shouting. Turns out it's that big guy with the beard from the bus.

"The Frogs are Noise! We have to fight!" He shouted, quickly dodging one that leapt at him, "If you want to live make a Pact with another player! NOW!"

Mike looked around. Besides the oblivious majority, he and the big guy were the only ones on their feet. Right next to him were the people he sat next to on the bus, but he also saw some of the other passengers, that looked much worse off, further away. Alright then. Pact? Or...

Make a Pact now!
A) Mr. Good Looking Psychology, still unconscious but muttering something quietly
B) Ms. Asian Fashion Model, still unconscious
C) Run towards Mr. Bushy Beard

Try to help one of the others.
D) The girl in the labcoat, still unconscious
E) The skinny girl in a crop top, trying hard but somehow unable get up off the ground
F) The wiry guy, on his hands and knees, apparently gagging
G) The reserved Asian girl who's sitting in a fetal position, staring into the distance as if in shock

Well, bushy beard did ask, but that lab coat might have a pen!

We must be one with the D, for science.

A.

D.

Yay for Steins;Gate!