Help me figure out what to do with this!

[ObscureObscenities]

Ok, so I wrote up a long backstory for a game that has yet/may never take off and I want to use it because it was really fun to write, but now I don't quite have a concept for it. I've got some ideas, and would be happy to ballpark back and forth with someone interested. My games are slow burn, plot heavy, sprawling wordy monsters typically, if this Intro doesn't make that obvious. I do not have something firm in mind for this yet, looking for help in that department. My O/O's are outdated, but if you take a look at my seeking thread, or my recent history you'll have plenty more of me to read about.

No TLDR, because the whole point is for you to read it! 

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

   Wednesday, why did it have to be wednesday? The thought filtered through the haze of sleep that she was just begging to shuck off of her brain. The sound of her alarm clock was still stabbing into her brain, putting any sort of notion of going back to sleep far from her immediate future. Giving the softest of groans, Tuesday turned over in the spread of her soft pillows, and warm comforter, and slapped at the night stand. It took an attempt, or two even, before her hand hit the offending alarm and put to rest the irritating noise that had stirred her out of the dream she had already mostly forgotten. That first thought, though, lingered, perhaps because of the alarm, Wednesday being one of the few days she needed one, it had become a recognizable misfortune at the intrusive noise. Rolling again, she put herself onto her back, tossing her head back into the fluff of pillow and looked up through the darkness of her room at the ceiling, trying to muster the motivation to rise from the comforts into the new day.
   
    "Wednesdays...suck." She said it to herself,the irony of hating the day which came following the one she was named after old to her. There of course was no one else in the dark bedroom, and eventually she shifted in bed to put her bare feet over the edge and onto the carpet beneath her bed. With that motion done, the next, rising up into a sitting position, was more almost an instinctual movement, sitting up and putting her hands to either side of herself, she sat there, still batting down the lingering dredges of sleep. Her vision, fresh from lidded eyes, handled the dark of the bedroom well, and the dim red light of her alarm clock, reading an offensive Four Thirty AM, represented why the room with tall floor to ceiling windows was still dark as pitch, besides the curtains that covered the glass. With a relenting groan, she pushed herself up onto her feet, padding across the room towards the attached bathroom, her hand smacked the wall where the switches were positioned, thankfully managing only to hit the low light option, rather than blinding herself this morning.
   
    Instantly the fair sized bathroom lit with a dim, yet bright by comparison to the bedroom, white light. It illuminated clean grey tiles, and big clean mirrors that captured every bit of the hot mess who stood in front of them. Pixie cut black hair, which somehow still managed to get messed up in her sleep, stuck up at odd angles from her head after the press of the pillow. Her slender pale face looked every bit as tired as she felt, with a little bit of dark around her eyes to enhance the tinge of exhaustion those big green eyes blinked into the mirror. "Uuugh." Why had she decided she needed a huge mirror in her bathroom? Just so she could see how shitty she looked in the morning. Reaching up to rub at her eyes a moment she dropped them and turned away from the mirror, preferring not to spend the time looking over herself before a hot shower. Cracking a cupboard, she withdrew a towel to toss on the counter, before peeling the blue tanktop up and over her head to toss into a basket on the floor, black comfortable but unfashionable panties followed before she padded across the tile to reach into the standing shower and crank it to eleven. Soon she was basking, cooking herself alive beneath the jets of restorative water.
   
    Feeling significantly more like a human creature she busied herself through the process of getting ready post shower, teeth, bit of work on her hair, smudge of makeup to cover over the dark bags under her eyes. It didn't take long before she was getting dressed. Up came underwear and a pair of fitting green yoga pants, over came a sports bra, and she topped that with a long sleeved sage colored sweater. Tapping the light off as she left her walk in the closet, she crossed out and into the shared living room, dining room, kitchen space that made up the rest of her apartment. She'd not bothered hitting any lights here, the faint glow from led displays on various appliances gave her just enough light to grab and refill her water bottle, before she went to the door. Stuffing her feet into her running shoes, she pocketed her small wallet, keys, and phone off the table for them near the door, feeling a little bit more ready for Wednesday.
   
   
   
    "Morning Greg." She finished unlocking her bike from its place in the stairwell, drawing it from it's place next to the others. The returned good morning came by way of a meow, and she bent long enough to scratch the tabby cat behind the ears quickly, before climbing onto her bike and starting off. The air was brisk, but not frigid, and her sweater kept most of the cold off of her, plus the exertion of peddling warmed her up considerably as she steered herself through the bike lanes into town. It was early, and the streets were mostly empty, letting her sail along the side of the road with a peaceful solitude that she prefered, if there was one thing she actually appreciated about being up so early, it was this, quiet, still a little dark...perfect.
   
    "Fuck!" She jerked the handlebars hard, sharply swerving in the bike lane, out into the street lane as a blue Volvo Suv seemed to appear out of nowhere. The fucking thing didn't even have its headlights, and came up from her right, shoving into the bike lane like it meant to pulll out into the street without even looking. She managed to get the front of her bike out around the Volvo, but the front of it still bumped her rear wheel as she tried to avoid it, sending her into a tailspin. She flew from her bike when it whipped sideways and tipped, tossing her into the street, hard, to roll several feet before planting her on her back. Stinging, groaning, she shifted up onto an elbow painfully. "Jesus fucking christ." Her head spun some as she carefully pushed herself up, trying to check herself over as she did so. Her cheek was scraped where it had smacked the asphalt, and she could feel potential bruises on her hip, shoulder, and elbow, which was warm and wet from a scrape which had torn a hole through her sweater. All in all, she was better off than she could have hoped for.
   
    When she was done making sure she hadn't broken anything, or scrambled her brain, her eyes went to find the Volvo that had hit her. It was still sitting there, though the headlights had illuminated finally, and she lifted her hands in a classic what the fuck gesture at the Volvo, unable to see the driver through the tinted windows. "Fucking hell." Dropping her hands to the asphalt she pushed herself painfully up, despite the grump her body gave her getting to her feet. "What the hell do you think you were doing?" She raised her voice, shouting, but they weren't in a more commercial area, less chance of disturbing some sleeping people in their homes with her shouting. Immediately she reached for her pocket, fishing her phone out of her pants so that she could get a picture of the Volvo, of the license plate, driver hopefully. She got it in her hand, and the Volvo revved up tires burning on the ground a bit as it whipped out into the street now. Bringing her phone up hurriedly realizing the bastard was going to just hit her and run, she groaned when she realized her screen was shattered, the hip it had been on had hit the ground. Phone useless, she glared at the vehicle as it streamed past her, stepping out into the road after it, focusing on the plate best she could.
   
    "BEC587." She muttered as she read it, miserably, lifting both hands to flip the fleeing driver off, phone clutched to her hand with her thumb. "BEC587." She repeated to herself, a couple times, finally moving to push her phone back into her pocket, checking her elbow, it was bleeding but not badly, and she felt at her cheek, finding it had blood there too. "So much for my fucking makeup." Grumbling to herself she went over to check her bike out, finding it like it's owner, sustained mostly scrapes, but not any breaks. She was able to right it and climb onto it, wincing as she did so. "Fucking Wednesdays....BEC587" Again she repeated the plate number, she was going to file a report on it, the bastard wasn't going to get away with hitting her and just getting off with it if she could help it.
   
   
   
    She was late, it didn't surprise her after her way into town, she'd been slower riding after she'd gotten hit, locking her bike up, she stomped up the steps and flung the glass door open. "Jesus Tuesday, the the fuck happened to you?" The words hit her the second she cleared the door and she sighed shaking her head. "Not my day Derek, that's all, everyone already here?" She replied to the bigger black man staffing the admittance desk. "Yeah, they are, waiting for you in the conference room 4." She acknowledged him with a grunt and started down the hallway immediately, she didn't like being late, especially after having woken up as early as she had for this. Part of her wanted to stop, hit the restroom, and clean herself up, but she didn't, counting off the rooms as she made her way through the building and to the conference room mentioned. "BEC587." Barely a whisper to herself, a reminder that she needed to get to a phone and make a report, she pushed the conference room open.
   
    Inside the room was essentially cleared, rather than hosting the huge desk one would expect, there was a table to one side of the room, various goods in place on it, accompanied by coffee makers and fixings. The center of the room was taken up with a ring of chairs, all but one occupied, though there was space for more to be added from the corner where they sat if needed. Everyone in the room was talking quietly, most holding a cup of coffee, a muffin, or other balm for the early hour.
   
    Taking a deep breath, she didn't immediately walk to the center where a chair was waiting for her, instead made her way over to the table. "Some days." She started, her voice lifted, as most the others already quieted down some when she came in. "It seems like the world is set out against you, and that no matter how hard you might try, you are going to keep getting beat down." She continued as she started fixing a coffee, though grabbing napkins to wet and wipe some of the dried blood off her elbow, and her cheek, tossing the stained napkin into the trash, she poured an unhealthy amount of sugar, and some milk, into her coffee before turning back to the others in the room walking over towards the ring of chairs. "Days like that make it harder, harder to justify not going back. They make me remember how good it felt to just sit back and let the drugs have their way." Stepping around, then seating herself into the chair, she bent to put the coffee on the floor between her feet before straightening up.
   
    "If this world is going to keep beating me down, why should I work so hard to take that? Right?" She said as she let her gaze shift from one face to another, catching different expressions in each as she did so. There was curiosity, concern, skepticism, but then there was also agreement, she could see some of those faces, some of those people connecting with what she said, not just sympathizing, but really sharing in what she was saying. "But then I remember what it felt like whenever that high I got wore off. I remember how the pain would come back..how it would feel worse, and the shame.. the guilt at letting myself down again." Her voice had turned pensive for the moment as she shook her head a little. "I remember that even when it's hard, when I'm sober, at the end of the day I know I've done something great, keeping myself clean. I've beat that demon down, beat those odds against me. Perhaps it's a testament of how much a stubborn bitch I am, but besting that need, becomes its own reward for me sometimes."
   
    It wouldn't surprise her at all if the others here thought she might not have been on top of that need, with the state of how she looked, but they wouldn't say as much. "Still, days when you get hit by a fucking car make you really long for the good old numbness." She admitted with a dark chuckle before bending over and picking up her coffee, giving the stirring stick a twirl she nodded lightly, an indicator that she was done for the moment. "Who wants to talk today?" And just like that, she was putting her own miserable start to the day behind her, and getting into what she could do, a little, to help someone besides herself.
   
   
   
    "Can I bum one Danny?" She asked of the teenager standing outside the community services building, the blonde girl blinked at her for a moment, surprised at the request, before extending the pack of cigarettes towards Tuesday. Plucking one of them out of the half empty pack she brought it up between her lips, then accepted the lighter that followed, flicking it and lighting the cancer stick. She returned the lighter even as she exhaled that first initial puff of smoke through her nose, opening her eyes back up. Chuckling at the look of shock on Danny's face she quirked an eyebrow. "As many stories you've heard about my old days Danny, you really surprised I'll smoke a cigarette?"
   
    "Well...no just, I've never seen you smoke." Danny admitted, a bit of a blush coming to her face. Tuesday just shook her head with a sigh and took another puff of the cigarette. "It's been a rough day." Admitting to the teenager, who was already doing NA meetings, that even though she still had hard days, wasn't just about honesty but trying to outreach some more. "This...this isn't going to help much, but isn't going to send me into a spiral. I'll concede the small battle if it means I keep winning the war, right? Hey now, i'm not gonna lecture, just out here for a smoke." She relented as she lifted hands, seeing Danny starting to close off, the girl hadn't talked much at the meeting, a sign of concern for Tuesday. But pushing too much was bound to be as bad as ignoring the girl all together, which her family had done a lot of.
   
    Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught a glimpse of something that made her turn her head away from Danny, frowning as she did so. Was that? She caught just the color blue rounding the far corner, not quite making out what the vehicle was, but the hair on the back of her neck stood up some. "Hey...was that a Volvo?" She asked Danny, pulling the cigarette from her lips. The next thing she knew she hurt a loud sizzling popping sound that made her whip her head around the other way, looking past Danny who had also turned without answering her. Not a block down the street a transformer up on the power pole spit sparks, and popped again, louder, before it burst. The small explosion of the transformer was enough to weaken the aged pole apparently, because following the burst came a louder cracking sound as the pole itself brust closer to the ground. Even as it started to tip towards them, Tuesday's heart was thundering louder, she didn't think, the cigarette fell from her hands she lunged forward throwing her arms around the teens waste, and heaving as she pulled her up and back at the same time. Half yanking, dragging, and throwing herself backwards, she snatched the teenager out of the spot she'd been smoking.
   
    Seconds later the pole crashed into where they had been loitering, throwing up another small explosion as the transformer crashed against the ground. Tuesday fell to the ground at the impact, but had managed to get the pair of them far enough way from the spot, not to get hit by the falling pole. For the second time that wendesday, she was on the fucking ground and aching again. Her arms were still tight around the teen, holding her against her tightly and not loosening. "Stay still." She panted as she felt her start to move some. "If the power is still going we have to stay still." There was no way they could get up from the ground and not put themselves at risk of being electrocuted, so they had to remain, at least...she thought that was what they needed to do, shit.
   
    Feeling her stiffen in her arms, she didn't blame the girl, fearful herself she kept her arms tight against Danny, not letting the girl wiggle. It didn't take long for her to start feeling the dampness of tears dripping onto her, wetting her sweater. "We'll be ok Danny... I promise." She said softly, keeping still.
   
   
   
    It'd only taken about an hour, getting word to the power company to cut the power to the block, make sure it was safe, before they were allowed to get up and out of danger. Tuesday was wondering just how much more abuse her body could take at that point, she was going to be bruised as bad fruit when she got home, and she was stiff from laying as still as possible on the sidewalk for an hour. Danny had headed off with the ambulance, at Tuesday's insistence, thanking her, crying some more, but ok. Really Tuesday had insisted she'd go so she'd be supervised, she didn't want there to be a chance of her turning to something to calm her nerves. That desire was a little high for herself, but she had long lived with the need tugging at her and wasn't going to give into it today. With the power out in the building, the afternoon sessions were cancelled, promises to be able to resume the next day and words of encouragement around.
   
    She was walking her bike at this point, she'd had a few offers from the others, to give her a lift, but she'd pushed them away, if she had to she'd take the bus she told them, and proceeded to walk her bike away. She needed a new phone, and a stop at the store for some Aspirin, about the strongest thing she indulged in anymore, before she could go home and get some rest, or at least as much rest as her trashed body was going to let her. The phone was a quick pick up, swapping the sd card, losing dozens of memories that might not have been backed up to the cloud yet, but restoring her link to the world around her she moved on to the nearby grocery store to pick up that aspirin and something easy to cheat on dinner with. Her head aching almost as much as her body did, she carried the small handbasket around the store, collecting some aspirin, before pacing up and down the freezer aisles looking for something that might be mildly appetizing.
   
    It was her second time through the aisle that she found something, a chicken and rice meal pack which she shoved into the basket and made for the checkout, it would be easy enough to carry the limited purchases on her bike. Taking up position in line, the sole cashier handling the small grocery stores customers fairly quickly actually. She was up and putting her things on the counter when she heard the click and caught sight of the cashier going suddenly very still in front of her. Half turning her head, she froze when her gaze met the barrel of a pistol hovering over her shoulder leveled at the cashier.
   
    "All your money, now." The voice was low, lacking empathy, desperate, behind her, and Tuesday could just about start swearing at her fucking luck today. Staying frozen in place, her eyes desperately flicked up to the monitor behind the counter, the one used to warn people the events were being recorded. Behind her stood a hulking jerk, a hood pulled over his head, and a mask up from his neck, covering his features, except for hard grey eyes. "Money! Now!" He shouted, when the Cashier, a young black kid remained frozen at the initial demand. The shout startled him into action, moving towards the register, but too quickly. "Don't you try something!" The robber shouted and Tuesday could feel his body against her back, the arm reaching past her coming even more into view, the gun fully in view now. Knowing better, or perhaps just too afraid too, Tuesday didn't say anything, taking quick frightened breaths as she did her best not to bring any attention to herself.
   
    The cashier wasn't playing games, the job obviously not worth his life, had already hit the register open and was piling the contents onto the counter. "You! Bag it up." A rough hand caught the back of her neck and she felt herself shoved forward violently, barely getting her hands up in time to catch the counter, rather than getting shoved into it she gasped. "What?! Fucking hell i've got nothing to.." She protested, immediately, unable to help herself. The shot silenced her, silenced everything. An explosion of sound hit her like a white hot blast, so sharp it felt like she could see it and it blinded her, overwhelming her. Shots...she remembered shots, guns...death, her gut wrenched and she waited for the pain to start coming, to start hurting....but it didn't come. She blinked, trying to clear her senses, she couldn't hear, the gun had gone off very close to her ear, and she looked across the counter to the young man. He was on the ground, clutching his arm which had blood gushing around it. She didn't hesitate then, scrambling she scooped the money off the counter, into the basket she had been hold, frozen dinner and aspirin all and turned to shove it at the man. "There!" She shouted, not realizing she was shouting cause she couldn't hear herself.
   
    He didn't linger, his goal achieved, the man turned and bolted for the door with his prize, leaving Tuesday to scramble around the counter now, rushing to the young man. "Shit! Shit shit shit!" She was panicking a little, the kid already was looking a ashen, the blood welling out of his arm, whatever the robber had been using hadn't been small. Looking around desperately she saw the button she was looking for and hit it, the button the cashier had been going for, when he got shot for his trouble. Then she turned back to the kid, he was talking...but she couldn't hear him, her eyes were ringing still. "Gotta stop the bleeding." She said, shouting still as she spotted the kids belt, without waiting to ask,  she grabbed it, the kids' condition evident in how little he seemed to care about her suddenly stripping him. Her ear was ringing painfully still as she yanked the leather free from the loops and then pulled his hand from the wounded arm long enough to get the belt up and under his armpit. Putting it through and cinching it down tight, he finally reacted, groaning in protest but she didn't stop pulling till it was tight enough to help.
   
    She panted, her heart hammering in her chest as she reached up, her hands bloody now and touched his face, looking at his eyes. "You're going to be ok." She urged, her voice loud, though she was starting to be able to hear herself a little better again, the opposite ear not as messed up, though the ringing in the affected one doing it's best to screw that over. "You're going to be ok." She urged again and let go of his face so she could reach down and grip his bloody hand in her own, squeezing it tightly glancing over her shoulder to the counter, to the doors, god she hoped that alarm actually functioned.
   
   
   
    Watching the second ambulance of the day pull away had Tuesday feeling completely drained, she'd managed to get a couple aspirin off the paramedic, after he'd insisted on checking her over because of all the blood. It was on her hands, arms, and shirt, spotted on her pants. She'd kept telling him it wasn't hers, but being perhaps good at his job he'd ignored her and insisted, the scrapes from this morning hadn't helped, but he finally gave her the nod of approval that she seemed fine. With a loud conversation on getting her hearing checked if it didn't recover any over night, and the traded medication, she was left outside the store as it drove away. Not wanting to wipe her face, she'd got some of the blood off with the tech, but could still feel its stickiness between her fingers, and under her nails, she walked over to her bike.
   
    What more could go fucking wrong today? What the hell had she done to deserve this kind of shit today? All she wanted now, was to get back to her place, where it was safe, and hide in her bed after the hottest shower she could stand. Straddling her bike she balanced on it, wishing she'd got some cigarettes from the store, which was now closed, she wondered if she was going to get pulled over next. Riding her bike down the road looking like a scene from a slasher movie, she wouldn't be surprised. Standing up on the pedals she started in, groaning at the tension of her angry muscles and pulled out onto the street into the bike lane, passing in front of a Volvo unnoticed as she did. It was too much, everything going on, everything that happened today, stressed, her brain fried, all she wanted was to get home.
   
    She shoved her bike into the rack and locked it up, not even giving Greg a pet as he came over and brushed up against her leg, a daze. On autopilot she went to her apartment, unlocked it and shoved the door shut behind her. Keys, wallet, phone, tossed onto the usual stand she kicked her shoes off, cringing, there was blood on them too. Pausing to peel her socks off, and after a moment's hesitation to strip the yoga pants off, she padded through her apartment, managing not to get blood all over the grey carpet. She didn't toss these clothes in the hamper, instead all but the panties went into the trash can, somehow they had managed to escape unscathed and ended in the laundry bin. Standing in front of her mirror, holding the counter while her shower warmed up, she could see the effects of the day beginning to show already. Her cheek was swollen, cut, and darkening with bruise, her hip was mottled with dark bruising, when she turned, her shoulder blades had dark splotching to match, and the bruise on her hip extended out against her ass. This Wednesday had really fucked her up, at this point she could really, really use something stronger than aspirin.
   
    That thought sent her into the shower, forcing herself to climb in and wash the remaining blood off of herself, hissing in pain when the water and soap hit the cuts on her cheek and elbow. It hurt, but the heat, the water, was once again as restorative as it had been that morning, or well, likely not nearly as much, but she felt like some of the fuzz had come off her. And her ear wasn't ringing, though the sound of the water was louder in her left ear than right still. Exiting, toweling, and finding an oversized t-shirt to wear, she clenched her toes in the carpet every other step. She was home...she was clean, she was safe...some food and then she'd go to sleep, to hell with whatever time it was.
   
    When she was in the kitchen her phone rang, and she reluctantly went to look, but a smile broke out as she listened to the voicemail that was left. "He'll be fine, sore as hell, but he'll make a full recovery thanks to you moving quick. Bastard had hollow points, tore his arm up good, would have bled out. He is sleeping, but is in room 405, if you want to see him when he wakes up." Suddenly a weight lifted off her shoulder she hadn't realized had been pressing, she'd of course asked to be notified about what happened, and she'd been caught up in the depressing imagery that that boy was going to die, or lose his arm maybe, because of what happened. On that lighter note, she picked up her bowl of cereal, passing by the windows in her dining room. It was getting dark, where the day had gone she didn't know but it had. She had a good view of the cityscape, not cramped up into an alley with the view of another building next to hers thankfully. Watching it she ate her fruity pebbles leaning against the sill. When she finished tipping the bowl back for the fruity milk, she noticed below in the parking lot a car with it's lights on. She couldn't make it out really, but dismissed it, figuring a neighbor had just got home or something. Bed, it was bedtime.
   
    Sinking into her unmade bed sent a wave of weariness over her she couldn't even attempt to fight. Her head hitting the pillow and she was out even as she cuddled into her blankets, this horrible day finally over.
   
   
   
    She woke up abruptly, pressure, she tried to move and couldn't, eyes searching the dark as she tried to lift her head. But there was something over her, over her mouth, pressing down on her, forcing her head back. She tried to shout, bringing her hands up to grab at whatever was on her, something hot, rough. Her hands found..and...arm? The weight on top of her shifted, some making her groan in pain as she felt it move on top of her, it would have hurt even if her body hadn't been trashed through the day. Suddenly the light came to life on her night stand, and a man came into view, he was up on the bed, on top of her, a knee into her gut, pressing his weight against her to keep her down. She started to try to wrench at his arm, digging her nails into his skin, trying to bite against his palm. But his hand was pressed too tightly against her face, for biting, and her nails didn't seem to as much as bother the big dark haired man. Blue, startling blue eyes glared down at her with a hate that scared Tuesday, that she didn't understand....she had no idea who this was.
   
    "I knew it was you.....Fucking you." He muttered, his voice deep, slurred, she realized she could smell booze. She screamed against his palm, kicking her legs, trying to roll her hips, anything to get him off of her. "Fucking knew it! You were here, all fucking along." Tuesday could hear him, but it didn't make any sense to her, she had no idea who this was, and as much as she struggled she just couldn't get herself free. "And then you had the audacity to fucking run into my car." Tuesday's thrashing stopped for a moment blinking in confusion, car? Wait..was this? "Make you pay for that bitch." He said and lifted his other hand, still gripping her mouth tightly. Clutched in the other hand, was a pistol, and Tuesday's thrashing instantly resumed, screaming against his palm kicking, trying to get out from under his grip, his weight. She fought till she felt the barrel of the gun planted against her left eye. "Make you pay, bitch."
   
    Everything exploded then, with the last thought in her her head completely ridiculous....She hadn't even remembered to file the hit and run with the police.

TLDR: Seriously, there ain't one people.

One such idea was a competition of sorts, between a Guardian angel, and a Reaper, one out to save this girl, the other out to see her in the ground. Another take was a Reaper who was fascinated by her, so essentially staying the bell, whilst fate continued to try to see her in, in increasingly frustrating or effective ways. I'm open, people, talk to me.

Please PM me, rather than answer here, I'll likely pull this thread when/if it gets put into play.