New Gotham: Release Your Inner Wolf!

You’re a werewolf living in New Gotham. Where do you live?

In a den outside the city

In a penthouse apartment

Gang or pack clubhouse/compound

With roommates in a kick ass party house

In an old train car beneath the city

In the forest. No, I’m not telling you where. I don’t want you here.

It’s Mating Season and Friday night. Your friends want to hang out. What’s the plan?

I’m not going. It’s Mating Season, and my friends can’t be trusted.

Something reasonable. Like rent a movie and burn the pizza.

Something that involves the community. Like an orgy.

Something that involves D20 dice and cheap beer.

Something bloody. Like chess or monopoly.

Something illegal. (Don’t lie. Everyone has that friend.)

I don’t have any friends. Get out of my house.

It's decided. You're going. Your best friend takes full responsibility for any calamity that ensues. Your best friend is a:

You're going on this hunt whether you like it or not. There will be potential mates there. What do you wear?

Does it matter? I’ll end up taking it off when I get there.

Um, I’m not going. Any reports of a man terrorizing the city with his cock swinging free in a pair of sweatpants is a doppleganger and not to be trusted.

A pair of nice jeans and a plain T-shirt.

Slacks. I don’t wear jeans or shirts without buttons.

What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?

I drink bottom shelf liquor, and I shop at Goodwill. Don’t ask me probing questions. I can’t answer them.

Whatever my kids haven’t destroyed.

You’re tricked into picking up snacks and drinks on the way there. What do you bring?

Something cheap and easy. Like pizza and beer. What? I’m not made out of money.

Something out of my fridge. I have no idea what I brought. Assholes shouldn’t leave important decision making to little ole me.

My favorite. If they don’t like it, they can kiss my ass.

Raw meat for the grill, good beer, and cupcakes shaped like tits.

Top shelf liquor and sandwiches from the Italian deli.

I don’t drink. I came to babysit the rest of you assholes. I brought whatever the lady at the liquor store told me to. (And chips. I brought chips.)

Everyone arrives at the picnic, they make jokes about your snacks, and then start taking their clothes off. How does the opposite sex react to seeing you naked?

Suspicious. That's the only word for it.

To your frustration, they offer you the "friend zone" smile.

I rarely ever pay attention to other people.

They want to help you…however they can.

If they have any sense at all, they flee the sight of you.

Your striking appearance and incredible strength both arouse and terrify them.

A handsome (mostly naked) stranger smiles at you and asks, “What do you for a living?”

Mind my own business. Tough job. Lots of people struggle.

Service industry (cashier, maid, sales associate)

Entertainment industry (singer, writer, artist, comedian)

Labor Force (factories, farmhands, etc.)

Corporate (lawyers, processors, vendor coordinators)

Healthcare (nurses, caregivers, doctors)

Food Industry (waiter, chef, etc.)

I’m a husband, father, and Mayor of Farmville

He/she leans a little closer and says, “I want the rest of your night. I don’t care if we ever see each other again. For tonight, be mine.” What do you do?

You pretend not to hear her/him, and try not to pass out from oxygen deprivation.

You meet his/her gaze and tell him/her to back off.

You rub the back of your neck and say something witty

You grab her/his hand and start making your way for the nearest dark corner

You keep reading your book, because he’s/she's obviously confused

You challenge her/him with a wager. If he/she can X, you will X.

I don’t speak to handsome strangers

This stranger challenges you to a one-on-one hunt to first blood. Catch them and you decide what happens next. What’s your fighting/hunting style look like?

The Scholar. You will fight to the death to defend yourself.

The Knight. You fight only to protect the ones you love.

The Rake. You hate fighting but can’t defy your nature for too long.

The Warrior. Give and take as many hits as you can.

The Prince. What fight? You’ve already laid traps in the forest.

The King. Resistance is futile. A head start would only delay the inevitable.

The hunt begins. You transform into a werewolf. What does your transformation look like?

Your bones are stretched or compacted to fit a new wolfish frame. You howl in terrible pain, your teeth lengthen, and your whole face reforms into a snout.

You start sprouting fur. Used to happen at the most inopportune times, like while you were standing in the school cafeteria or lying on top of a girl for the first time.

You start running through the forest, gathering speed until an unearthly glow envelops you in mid-leap and peacefully transforms you into a wolf.

You shift with tremendous speed and little to no effort. In the blink of an eye, you become a monster, ready for a fight.

As your psyche enters to animal realm, your spirit shifts into a wolf and your body effortlessly follows the transformation.

You never remember how you transform into a wolf.

You catch the stranger. What’s your next move?

Exchange contact information, you can never have too many friends.

Kiss them goodnight, but leave them wondering.

Insist they follow you to a hotel for coffee, and…conversation.

Thank them for wasting your time.

Write your phone number on a napkin, and slip it in their pocket to find later.

Introduce them to your friends, knowing that any hopes of sex are dashed.

Tell them that the night isn’t over, and let them figure out what to do next.

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