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This dark wooded highway has blown plenty of cool wind through your hair as you've flown by this gas station more than a couple of times trying to get a personal best from your speedometer. It's a god given miracle that you haven't lost your license yet in all honesty but that anticipation for acceleration is all too tantalizing for you, especially at the end of a long shift at the station. Getting up from your seat, you place your magazine on the counter and saunter over to the front of station. Peering through the window you can't help but smile at your current pride and joy...

She wasn't no GNX, at least not from birth, but she was getting there. You didn't have very many career like many of your peers; your only real aspiration was the natural kind hidden under the hood of your 1980 Buick Grand National. Just from the look of the ancient machine most would think anything on the road would smoke you but that wasn't (always) the case. Many of the amenities had been stripped from the geezer and the carbureted V6 had been tuned, ported and blown (thanks to your makeshift hood scoop) to perfection. You still lusted after the big-block V8s plastered in Motortrend but this cobbled together racecar held a special place in your heart and you dreaded the day you would need to part with it.

Your daydreaming came to an end as you saw another car pulling in and up to the pumps. With a tired sigh, you turned around and made your way back to the desk and picked up your magazine once more, deciding to wait for the driver to come in and pay once their pumping concluded. Your focus was almost completely drawn back into the paperback pages of speed mastery when you noticed the car had disappeared.

Puzzled for a moment, you crane your neck out over the desk as you tried to get a peak further down the road or perhaps a glimpse of the car parked nearby. When this proved fruitless you waited for a moment before going back to magazine for good this time. It was likely they just needed to stop for a moment to check their map. Most people coming out of town were either residents who didn't know the first thing about navigating outside of their quaint town or unwitting visitors, wondering how they managed to get so turned around and landing themselves in Melsb-

Your train of thought is suddenly derailed as your attention is once more brought back to the window though this time it isn't a car that you see. Standing mere millimetres from the pane of glass adorned by the door is a short man sporting cargo shorts, a white tank-top, Aviators and a scruffy unkempt beard. You nearly jumped out of your skin after noticing them but quickly calmed down, figuring it was your lost driver from before. They must have just parked around the side of the shop.

You stat for a moment waiting for them to enter but they didn't seem to be interested in that. You gave a puzzled look before noticing the latch on the front door was locked. You were pretty sure you hadn't started lock up already but it was getting close to the end of your shift. Maybe you had just forgotten? Regardless, best course of action right now would be to go let the potential customer in.

However, once you got up from your seated position something in your gut began to stir. Not in a 'I'm going to shit myself' way but in a primordial untrust of what you saw before you. It was likely just you being tired and making a mountain out of a mole hill but you've been in plenty of situations where trusting your gut has saved your skin (and your car). Now locking eyes (you think) with the man you...

- Trust your gut and lock yourself in the back for now.
- Think about this realistically and go let the man in.
@rocketrobie2 With who? :/


Jarred O'Hare, that no good sonnva gun.
@Dark Cloud Nah, just has a score to settle

Melsborow, a quaint town where everyone knows everyone and everyone's business. A setting home to a unresolved story, many regrets and soon a handful of people trying to survive a night of supernatural events. We all know know how these things start so let's skip the monologue here and take a look back at our frightful night in Melsborow...

Gregory's Gas, July 1st 199X

It was nights like this that really made you grateful that Melsbrow's 'night life' didn't extend this far out of town. The station was just far enough out of town to not be frequented very much by the residents but still close enough to make the trip into work worth the gas. For the most part the job was a cake walk, evidence by you having your feet kicked up on the checkout desk as you listened to the faint tunes emanating from a radio that was probably older than you were.

Looking up over the counter, you took a look at the scene that had become an everyday constant in your life (at least since school let up). The night was dark despite how bright the large moon appeared to be, just peaking over the pines that littered the other side of the road. Between the woods and your store was the one highway out of town and the tow rows of pumps. Closer more was the store front illuminated weakly by a couple of old halogen lightbulbs, giving the store's contents a homely (or sickly, depending on who you ask) disposition.

Of course just sitting here would bore to crap out of anyone. If you hadn't brought something to do during the hours in between customers you'd probably have trashed the place just to fight off the boredom. To keep yourself occupied, you've been...

- Studying.
- Reading Motortrend magazine.
- Reading Fashion magazine while on the phone with your friend.
- Staring at your PC, reading the 'Real_Occult_Experiences' chatroom.
- Tossing a football above your head.

Sorry for the wait ya'll, haven't had enough time to post daily lately. Weekly's been pushing it.
@Dark Cloud@Mae

"I'm not checking but I pray to every god out there that you didn't eat any of those wands big guy." Marcus said to the mule-ish being before another quasi-familiar face threw themselves before Marcus. This grovelling wasn't going to be good for Marcus' ego but this gave Marcus a good chance to recruit someone to his own moderately-nefarious side.

"Well I can give you a hand feeding your friends but you gotta be willing to do something for me. Scratch my back I scratch yours or so to speak." Marcus said, using his hands to emphasize his point. "Won't tell ya what I want done yet but when I do ya gotta do it. No questions asked. Comprende Wik?" Marcus said, crossing his arms.
Sorry for the delay on a post guys, this week and last week have been killer on me.
Content with knowing what at least on of the wands did, Marcus made his way back over to Carl as he just caught sight of another student heading off into the forest. That seemed like as good a place as any to go. Approaching the mule-ish creature once more, Marcus gave him another friendly pat.

"You wanna stay here or come along into the forest with me? Huh?" Marcus asked mostly rhetorically as he began to look at the bindings keep the mule to the cart. He didn't want to take everyone's supplies so he figured he's undo the mule from the supplies and head off with the beast of burden.
Marcus gave a half hearted wave to Mal as he took off on their own. Chances are there was strength in numbers but Marcus felt fine just staying on his own. However, Marcus was not fine flying blind with what wand he was using. Making sure to take a good few steps away from Carl, Marcus produced one of the wands he took and attempted to cast it on a nearby bush.
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