Quoted By:
You honestly can't see the greater purpose in fleeing to your sister's little store, but you remind yourself that 1) anywhere would be better than here and 2) it would be really funny. You mentally plot out a harebrained scheme that you will neither follow nor remember.
As you're about to slink away, the apartment door swings open. The large gentleman pushes it open with one hand, and as he peers in, his face comes into view. Three very sloppy and painful looking stitches sew his eye closed, and his face is held in a grotesquely frustrated expression. You can't really seem to blame him.
He silently growls as he listens to the hallway, somehow unaware of your presence next to him, just a few feet away. Your heart races away as you prepare to do the same.
>ATTACK HIM. You're not gonna get me, freak! (requires roll)
>RUN AWAY. You're not gonna get me, freak! (requires roll)
>SNEAK AWAY. You're not gonna get me, freak... (requires roll)
>WRITE-IN.
