Pitch Black is a black shepherd-type mutt, who is capable of speech and has a crippling nicotine addiction. You have never met a more sour dog.
attributes
Physique 2 ⬩ Instinct 5 ⬩ Knowledge 2 ⬩ Insight 1
* * *
► ➙ You watch him search for something { Must be completed first }
You come up to him, to ask what he’s doing. “Searching for smokes,” he grunts dismissively, paying you little mind as he’s busy carefully sniffing the earth, occasionally swiping at it with his paw, but finding nothing. You suppose you could spare some Cigarettes for him, if you happen to find any.
► ➙ You give him a smoke { Cigarette & a way to light it }
“Sweet, thanks,” he says with his with urgency in his voice, wasting no time to get in his first few inhales. For a moment you two just stand there, in silence, as Pitch Black takes in his simple chemical bliss. “So,” he starts, much smoother now–you suppose getting his fix eased his agitation–”I guess I owe you. Hit me up if you need anything.”
From now on, for each Cigarette given and lit for him, you may have Pitch Black accompany you for 3 Encounters at a time.
► ⦿ How come you can talk?
“I’m a freak of nature like that, plain and simple,” he says unenthusiastically.
► ⦿ You insist, wanting to know him better { Favourable or Friendly }
“It doesn’t take advantaged intelligence to run one’s mouth, in case you haven’t noticed,” he replies with a sarcastic, dry laugh. He seems to consider the sincerity of your question, and decides to humor you. “This place’s odd. My mom was human. Pretty sure she wasn’t pregnant before she came here… giving birth to a litter of pups must be about as big of a surprise as shitting out a live bird.”
► ➙ You ask him for survival tips
Even though Pitch Black is a dog, you figure that living here cannot be easy for him either – and you could use any and all tips you can get. You come up to him while he’s lying on the ground, restful though alert, his ears turning to your direction as he hears you approach. “What do you want?” he asks gruffly, not bothering to look up to you, not so much as to even open his eyes. You present your question with weight, in hopes that he won’t just tell you to piss off for bothering him. “Hmm…” he groans, getting up with a big, stiff stretch, “that’s a tough one, ’cause you haven’t got the senses I do.” He tilts his head, giving you a look of appraisal. “There is something you can try, however.”
Pitch Black tells you of a type of Flora, called Madman’s Bouquet, partaking in which temporarily widens your perception. If you manage to present him with this plant, he has an idea on how to make use of it.
► ➙ You return with the flower { Madman’s Bouquet }
“Mhm,” he nods in acknowledgement, “that’ll do.” With that, and without any further elaboration on what his plan is, he leads you into the woods, trailing along a path you cannot see.
A short while later, he stops at small clearing, turning to you expectantly – it is only then, that you see the lone and forgotten headstone. “Quiet,” he says in a hush too loud still to be a whisper, “listen. Do you hear anything?”
► ➙ You do not hear anything { Insight less than 3 }
You listen for a moment, but hear nothing out of the ordinary and the expected, and tell him as much. “Thought so,” he says, briefly turning to the grave again, his ears turning as if trying to listen for something himself too. “I know what used to lie there, and you tell me whether it still does. Eat one of those leaves.”
► ➙ You feel your awareness broaden { Insight 3 or higher }
You eat a single petal of the bouquet, its bitter and almost artificial flavor unpleasant but not inedible. You don’t even have time to wonder how long it’ll take before its chemicals take effect, for you feel it immediately: a sense of greater awareness, of knowing things as one does in a dream.
You can hear someone down below, screaming and banging against something, like trying to break through a door. You tell Pitch Black this, and he nods noncommittally to your observation. “Poor bastard,” he says, pausing for moment to look at the grave, whether out of respect or lost in thought, you are not sure.
“Heed this, human,” he breaks the silence, with grave severity in his voice, “… when the time comes for you to choose death, choose it.”
The heaviness of the conversation is abruptly broken by the sound of something moving in the undergrowth of the woods, and in a blink of an eye – Pitch Black is gone, chasing after whatever animal that was.
► ➙ You realise, with a shiver, that you do { Insight 3 or higher }
You could hear it the moment you came to the clearing, and the cold chill you have been resisting runs down your spine regardless of your efforts – somewhere far below, you can hear screaming and banging, like someone is trying to break through a door. You tell him this, and he nods noncommittally to your observation. “Poor bastard,” he says, pausing for moment to look at the grave, whether out of respect or lost in thought, you are not sure.
“Heed this, human,” he breaks the silence, with grave severity in his voice, “… when the time comes for you to choose death, choose it. Now, eat one of those leaves.”
► ➙ You feel your awareness broaden { Insight 5 or higher }
You wonder whether you want to hear or know more than you already do, but to turn back now would be a waste of your efforts. Under the expectant gaze of the dog, you eat a petal off of the Banquet. single petal of the bouquet, its bitter and almost artificial flavor unpleasant but not inedible. You don’t even have time to wonder how long it’ll take before its chemicals take effect, for you feel it immediately: a sense of greater awareness, of knowing things as one does in a dream.
Your vision turns dark, and your body is wracked by convulsions and cramps as if trying to become as small as possible, your breathing laboured and coming out in weak gasps. Succumbing to the darkness, you soon come to feel and hear something – rather, someone cold and clammy alongside you, you hear their screams right by your ear and the resounding banging as they writhe alongside you.
They suddenly stop and you feel seen, as the stranger moves, feeling your body’s presence. Despite the absolute darkness, you can see them, their wide, bloodshot eyes in the dark, strained by tears and bulging as if there were no skin left around them. There is a plea in their gaze, but you are so tightly crammed with them that you cannot help them, for there is nothing you can do even for yourself. Your vision begins to fade again, the miserable eyes vanishing into the darkness and the banging and the screaming redoubles in desperation, as you come back to.
You exhale with a violent gasp, and feel a cold nose nudging your side. “Hey. There you go, get up,” Pitch Black’s rough voice stirs you, and you scramble back up, feeling briefly like a stranger in your own body. “Hope that little taste of hell ensures you won’t be stupid when the time comes to–,” he turns suddenly, abruptly distracted by the sound of something moving in the undergrowth of the woods. In a blink of an eye, Pitch Black is gone, chasing after whatever animal that was, leaving you to process what you just experienced.
* * *
Affinity
For every 3 Cigarettes given to him, his Affinity towards you increases by one step.
friendly
No change from Favourable.
favourable
If you have gained him as a companion, he can accompany you up to 6 Encounters at a time.
neutral
No change from Unfavourable.
unfavourable
This is Pitch Black’s default Affinity towards everyone. He will agree to engage with you, but will not bother to be pleasant about it.
hateful
He refuses to engage with you, ensuring that you cannot come across him again. None of the Encounters involved with him can be progressed.