Capitalism, Hey!: AlcheME!

[idolpro]

[ Everything fades to black...and you awaken in a run-down one-room shack, with the distinct feeling that the people around you are your family, if you didn't already have such a bond with them.

You're wearing raggedy versions of your uniform, and a newspaper informs you that you are currently in %COUNTRYNAME%, in the year %CONTEMPORARY%. The newspaper is otherwise actually fairly unhelpful, aside from something detailing a recent high-profile murder having been solved: despite confusion on the part of the authorities conducting the initial investigation, it turns out the victim had been tragically murdered via gun in the knife.

What do you do? ]

Comments

Re: TURN IN

[liarliarliar]

In an attempt to ward off starvation we regretfully eat the leftover rats we had been keeping as pets. We also look for a new job in the culinary arts, hoping U's previous good work helps with that. B will continue trying to earn side cash via tarot and palm readings. And you know. Buy more food??

As for the BULLET WOUND. Alcohol has been purchased to booze U up. B, having taken classes by John, will proceed to try to remove the bullet with sterilized tools. HE HAS TRAINED FOR THIS MOMENT. LEGITIMATELY!!!!

BUDGET!!!

Housing - 500
Food - 900
Medicine - 200
Clothing - 200
Alcohol - 200

NO TAXES

Re: TURN IN

[idolpro]

Unfortunately, you don't seem to manage getting another job, BUT your side hustle barely slides you by - you become a FORTUNE TELLER, PROFESSIONALLY.

. . . Which mostly means you're kind of peddling on the street since this is side cash material and not main cash material, but hey, whatever, money is money, right?

(Your mine does not close, so you do end up being able to work part time, so this ends up being more side cash than main cash. That's sad but you can live the two job life. Double fist. Be a millennial.)

The tools in this era make it absolutely HELLISH to get the bullet out, although you do manage to do it. In exchange, the area is left paralyzed and unusable. Uh, about that cook job. . .