CYOA Page 1
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Page One: Introduction
You sometimes wonder what the fuck you were thinking when you agreed to this. And not only AGREED to it... but VOLUNTEERED for it, and convinced JOEL to do it! Not that it took much convincing. The Joel you met in Boston might have only been looking out for number one, but the man he'd become in the two years since? Just a big old softie. He's still loath to admit it (which is kind of adorable, really), but when Tommy asked for volunteers, you saw the look in his eye. It's not like he was completely indifferent to the tearful entreaties of that Layla woman -- plus, he knew she had two young kids who were missing their daddy. He didn't protest (much) when you raised your hand to volunteer the two of you.
When you two were chosen out of the six or eight or however many that volunteered, he did say it would be better if it was just the two of you... if there were only three horses to spare currently, best leave one of those behind in case something else comes up. Which makes sense, you suppose, but you know the real reason: Joel works better alone. Except 'alone' does tend to include you, most of the time... you're like an appendage or something by now -- you don't count as a separate person. You probably could have gotten away with only taking one horse, too... but, as Joel pointed out, if Danny had run into trouble out there and either lost his horse or was in too sad of shape to ride -- or, worst case scenario, it was his corpse that you found -- you couldn't fit three people on one horse, especially when at least two of you were armed to the teeth. He'd been gone for about a month now. Any number of things could have happened to him... Joel said Danny might have simply opted to stay at the hospital longer than usual. Maybe his mother had taken a turn for the worse. You wondered if it could be the opposite -- that maybe she was just about well enough to come home and Danny just had to wait a little longer to take her, so he figured he'd save a trip by waiting it out. Joel had scoffed a little and called you the eternal optimist, but before you could even start defending yourself, he assured you he didn't mean it in a bad way, and that yes, it was indeed a possibility.
And now... you've suddenly remembered the gripping fear and anxiety that the Outside can generate. Along with fatigue... hunger... thirst... aches and pains... filth... except not really most of that stuff YET because we've been out here less than two days. Ha! And you're much better-provisioned than you were on that cross-country journey. A week from now, you'll be back within the relative safety of Jackson's walls, with cold milk in your belly and a too-soft mattress under your back.
"You sure you're all right, kiddo?"
"Of course!" you chirp, the automatic response sounding as fake to your own ears as it must have to Joel's. Idly, you wonder if he'll ever stop calling you 'kiddo.' You're sixteen now, for fuck's sake! But, to be honest, you don't mind, because you know it's said with love.
Joel doesn't look convinced. "You jus' seem a little..."
"I'm fine. Not like we haven't killed more than this before." If you pretend to be annoyed, he'll probably drop it. Maybe.
"That was a long time ago, though. Snipin' off the wall's a little different."
Maybe so, but you still see these motherfuckers in your nightmares from that 'long time ago'; you wonder if those will ever stop. "Can we just go?" you say with a loud sigh. "This place is giving me the creeps." As buildings that house dead bodies tend to do.
"Sure. Think we've just about picked 'em clean anyhow." Joel obligingly starts heading back to where the horses are tethered.
You're just rusty, you tell yourself. That's the word Joel favors when talking about something he hasn't done in a while. Like... it's been so long that rust has grown on you. Honestly, though? Fighting infected is scary as fuck, even once you've become accustomed to it. And you're not really accustomed anymore. You've been Outside maybe a total of seven or eight times in the year-plus you've lived in Jackson, and never gone far. Joel has been Out more than that -- and he's sneaky about it, too. He knows he can only go without you if you don't know he's going, and he knows you'll be pissed when you eventually find out (which you will, always). But even those times were usually in a group, for hunting or something, and sticking fairly close to town; you may have the occasional band of bandits to flush out, but for the most part, the patrols keep the surrounding areas clear. Infected are rarely a problem. In fact, they're a welcome sight when you're sitting on your ass for hours with nothing to do, safe in a high tower behind the wall. They don't have guns or brains... which makes them less dangerous than humans, really.
However, the infected are far more dangerous to Joel than to you -- you're already infected, after all. Unexpectedly, you feel a surge of affection for this man who's been your near-constant companion for the past two years. If he were ever to get bitten...
"Joel! Wait!"
He turns and watches as you bound over to him.
If you plant a big wet one on him, cuz you guys kiss and stuff all the time (even if you DO have to keep it a secret at home), turn to page 2.
If you would never do such a thing in a million years (cuz ewwwww he's like your DAD, for fuck's sake!), turn to page 3.
You sometimes wonder what the fuck you were thinking when you agreed to this. And not only AGREED to it... but VOLUNTEERED for it, and convinced JOEL to do it! Not that it took much convincing. The Joel you met in Boston might have only been looking out for number one, but the man he'd become in the two years since? Just a big old softie. He's still loath to admit it (which is kind of adorable, really), but when Tommy asked for volunteers, you saw the look in his eye. It's not like he was completely indifferent to the tearful entreaties of that Layla woman -- plus, he knew she had two young kids who were missing their daddy. He didn't protest (much) when you raised your hand to volunteer the two of you.
When you two were chosen out of the six or eight or however many that volunteered, he did say it would be better if it was just the two of you... if there were only three horses to spare currently, best leave one of those behind in case something else comes up. Which makes sense, you suppose, but you know the real reason: Joel works better alone. Except 'alone' does tend to include you, most of the time... you're like an appendage or something by now -- you don't count as a separate person. You probably could have gotten away with only taking one horse, too... but, as Joel pointed out, if Danny had run into trouble out there and either lost his horse or was in too sad of shape to ride -- or, worst case scenario, it was his corpse that you found -- you couldn't fit three people on one horse, especially when at least two of you were armed to the teeth. He'd been gone for about a month now. Any number of things could have happened to him... Joel said Danny might have simply opted to stay at the hospital longer than usual. Maybe his mother had taken a turn for the worse. You wondered if it could be the opposite -- that maybe she was just about well enough to come home and Danny just had to wait a little longer to take her, so he figured he'd save a trip by waiting it out. Joel had scoffed a little and called you the eternal optimist, but before you could even start defending yourself, he assured you he didn't mean it in a bad way, and that yes, it was indeed a possibility.
And now... you've suddenly remembered the gripping fear and anxiety that the Outside can generate. Along with fatigue... hunger... thirst... aches and pains... filth... except not really most of that stuff YET because we've been out here less than two days. Ha! And you're much better-provisioned than you were on that cross-country journey. A week from now, you'll be back within the relative safety of Jackson's walls, with cold milk in your belly and a too-soft mattress under your back.
"You sure you're all right, kiddo?"
"Of course!" you chirp, the automatic response sounding as fake to your own ears as it must have to Joel's. Idly, you wonder if he'll ever stop calling you 'kiddo.' You're sixteen now, for fuck's sake! But, to be honest, you don't mind, because you know it's said with love.
Joel doesn't look convinced. "You jus' seem a little..."
"I'm fine. Not like we haven't killed more than this before." If you pretend to be annoyed, he'll probably drop it. Maybe.
"That was a long time ago, though. Snipin' off the wall's a little different."
Maybe so, but you still see these motherfuckers in your nightmares from that 'long time ago'; you wonder if those will ever stop. "Can we just go?" you say with a loud sigh. "This place is giving me the creeps." As buildings that house dead bodies tend to do.
"Sure. Think we've just about picked 'em clean anyhow." Joel obligingly starts heading back to where the horses are tethered.
You're just rusty, you tell yourself. That's the word Joel favors when talking about something he hasn't done in a while. Like... it's been so long that rust has grown on you. Honestly, though? Fighting infected is scary as fuck, even once you've become accustomed to it. And you're not really accustomed anymore. You've been Outside maybe a total of seven or eight times in the year-plus you've lived in Jackson, and never gone far. Joel has been Out more than that -- and he's sneaky about it, too. He knows he can only go without you if you don't know he's going, and he knows you'll be pissed when you eventually find out (which you will, always). But even those times were usually in a group, for hunting or something, and sticking fairly close to town; you may have the occasional band of bandits to flush out, but for the most part, the patrols keep the surrounding areas clear. Infected are rarely a problem. In fact, they're a welcome sight when you're sitting on your ass for hours with nothing to do, safe in a high tower behind the wall. They don't have guns or brains... which makes them less dangerous than humans, really.
However, the infected are far more dangerous to Joel than to you -- you're already infected, after all. Unexpectedly, you feel a surge of affection for this man who's been your near-constant companion for the past two years. If he were ever to get bitten...
"Joel! Wait!"
He turns and watches as you bound over to him.
If you plant a big wet one on him, cuz you guys kiss and stuff all the time (even if you DO have to keep it a secret at home), turn to page 2.
If you would never do such a thing in a million years (cuz ewwwww he's like your DAD, for fuck's sake!), turn to page 3.