resfan

[resfan]

Restaurant Resus #2

The full 12 minute video is available on patreon.

I used the new dialogue system for this video, which was fun to play around with but it still has some issues. That's the reason why this video has more cuts and editing than usual, and I had to hide the UI because the game play simulation didn't line up with the dialogue. Hopefully future videos will improve as I flesh out the Rescue Script system.

[resfan]

Continuation of your bathroom gif in the ambulance:

Just outside the hospital, your vitals get worse. " Your heartbeat becomes bradycardic, I start with one hand compression!".

The paramedic starts with one hand compression, with the other hand he holds the Ambu Bag with which he ventilates you. The paramedic is doing everything he can to save you from a 2 cardiac arrest, but there is a flat line on the monitor. " Pull over, new cardiac arrest!", the door opens and the other paramedic comes to the back.

While one paramedic performs deep and rapid chest compressions, the other paramedic administers epinephrine to you. The ambu bag is placed on your face, several breaths are given, and the paramedics watch your chest rise and fall. Then the paramedic places his hands in the middle of your chest and starts chest compressions again. Meanwhile, the other paramedic listens to you with the stethoscope, " No heartbeat, asystole for 10 minutes, in 2 minutes another dose of adrenaline!" In order to give better and stronger compression, one of the paramedics climbs onto the stretcher and is now above you. Due to his strengthening compression, your arms fall down and bounce in time with the compression. "One, two, three. Four, Five, Six,...., Come girl, come again you've done it before!". Minutes pass, another dose of adrenaline is administered, "Keep going, she really needs to go to the hospital!", during the rest of the ride the paramedic gives the strong and deep chest compressions, by now your whole body is shaking to the beat of the compression.

The door is pulled open and you are wheeled into the emergency room under resuscitation. " Woman, early 20s, was found lifeless in the bathroom , could be resuscitated after 1 hour. Cardiac arrest again in ambulance, asystole for 40 minutes!". After several cycles have passed, the monitor shows ventricular fibrillation. "Charge to 300, clear! Your upper body goes up before it slams back onto the treatment table. " No change, charge to 360, clear!" again the shock flows through your body, " Come on, charge to 360, clear!", your upper body arches up, on impact your arm falls off the treatment table. The third shock sends your heart into a normal rhythm, relieved everyone in the treatment room looks at each other....

I absolutely love that story 😍

[resfan]

After multiple cycles of cpr, i enter in V-fib and paddles were charged to 360... CLEAR

[resfan]

Xoma's Female Patient Experiment, Part 1

I was inspired by @Xoma66 's latest work, "Female Patient Experiment" (Trailer) to write this story. I really enjoy watching both of them brutally resuscitating each other. I asked for their permission before starting to write ;)

Here goes.

The medical bay was a stark contrast to the chaos that had been her world only moments ago. The sterile white walls reflected the cold, unfeeling lights above, and the beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound that pierced the eerie silence. Beneath the thin white blanket, the woman's body lay still, the ECG showing that she had long expired. The doctor, a tall, muscular man with piercing eyes and a sharp jawline, strode into the room with a sense of urgency that made the air around him crackle with anticipation. The scent of antiseptic clung to him like a second skin, a testament to his unyielding dedication to his craft.

In his hand, he clutched the syringe, filled with a cocktail of the tiniest of soldiers—nanobots designed to wage a war on the ravages of death. The needle gleamed like a jewel in the stark light, and as he inserted it into her chest, he whispered a silent incantation, a prayer to the gods of science and medicine. He depressed the plunger, watching the fluid vanish into her skin, the nanobots swarming like a colony of ants eager to mend what the universe had deemed broken.

For a moment, nothing happened. The room remained as still as a painting, the only movement the almost imperceptible rise and fall of the doctor's chest as he held his breath. The woman on the table remained a statue of marble, unyielding and silent. Her eyes, once vibrant and alive, stared unblinking at the ceiling, reflecting the cold, unfeeling lights above. The doctor waited, his heart racing as he watched the ECG, the line as flat as the desert horizon.

Suddenly, a tremor rippled through the woman's body, sending a jolt of electricity through the doctor's fingertips. Her body arched off the table, her breasts straining towards him as if in a silent plea. He took a step back, the syringe falling from his hand to clatter against the floor. The seizure grew in intensity, her limbs flailing in a wild dance of life and death. The ECG spasmed into a cacophony of peaks and valleys, a maelstrom of chaotic activity that spoke of the fierce battle within her.

"Yes," the doctor murmured, a twisted smile playing across his lips. "Come back to me." He reached for the defibrillator paddles with a hunger that was both professional and primal. The rubber grips felt reassuring in his hands, the power to give life a seductive siren's call to his fingertips. He hovered over her, the paddles charged and crackling with a vibrant, blue energy that seemed to resonate with the very essence of her being.

With a swift and precise motion, he placed the paddles on her bare chest, one on the upper right, the other on the lower left, the points of contact sending a shiver of anticipation through his body. "Ready?" he whispered to her unhearing form, the room echoing his question. He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers, willing them to flutter open and reveal the warmth of life.

And then, the shock. The room was filled with the electric scent of ozone as the current surged through her, the power of life and science colliding in a symphony of light and sound. Her body convulsed, the muscles beneath her skin rippling like waves crashing against a shore. The ECG leaped , her heart loudly beating twice as she was frozen, every muscle in her body stiff with shock. They, silence as she immediately went back into her flatline seizures.

With a grunt of frustration, the doctor discarded the paddles and leaned over her, his eyes scanning her body for any sign of response. The woman's chest remained still, the only indication of the tumult within the occasional twitch of a muscle or quiver of a nerve. He knew he had to try again, to push the boundaries of what was possible. His fingers danced over her skin, tracing the path of the veins that led to the very core of her being. He was a sculptor, molding life from the clay of death, and she was his masterpiece.

Suddenly, the doctor's hand stilled as an idea struck him with the force of a lightning bolt. He stepped back to the control panel, his eyes scanning the array of buttons and switches with a newfound sense of purpose. His fingers flew over the controls, recalibrating the defibrillator to deliver a stronger charge, one that would shake the very foundations of existence and demand that she live.

He turned to face her again, his gaze intense, his resolve unshakeable. "This time," he murmured, his voice low and seductive, "you will not disappoint me." He approached the table with the confidence of a conqueror, the paddles once again in his grasp.

Her body lay there, vulnerable and exposed, the only sign of life the tweatching and gentle rise and fall of her chest as the ventilator did the work her lungs could not. He took aim, the paddles poised like a lover's embrace. The air was thick with the anticipation of the impending jolt, the very essence of existence holding its breath.

"Clear!" he barked, the word cutting through the silence like a knife. His thumbs pressed down with the finality of a judge's gavel, unleashing the full fury of the defibrillator into her unyielding flesh. The electricity crackled and danced across her skin, painting a picture of desperate resuscitation in the stark white room. Her body convulsed, the power of the shock resonating through every cell, every atom of her being.

Her legs shot up, the blanket slipping away like a lover's embrace, revealing the full extent of her beauty to his ravenous gaze. The doctor's eyes widened, drinking in the sight of her shapely thighs, the apex of her sex a delicate whisper of shadow between them. Her toes curled and uncurled, as if reaching out to him in a silent invitation. He felt the heat rise in his own body, the pulse in his groin echoing the erratic rhythm of the ECG.

Her heart stuttered, beating twice before falling silent once more, the sound a taunt that spurred him on. He knew he had to act quickly, to capture this fleeting spark of life and coax it into a roaring flame. The doctor's eyes darted to the monitor, the line now a tentative, hopeful curve rather than the flat, unyielding line of before.

"Again," he murmured to himself, the word a command and a prayer. He didn't bother with the paddles this time; instead, he adjusted the defibrillator to deliver a constant, pulsing stream of energy directly into her chest cavity. He watched as her body began to shake, the muscles in her abdomen tightening and releasing in an erratic rhythm that mirrored the pulse of the machine. The electricity flowed through her, a river of life that seemed to pulse in time with his own desperate need.

And then, the moaning began. Low and guttural, it grew in intensity until it filled the room, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to resonate with every beat of her artificially induced heart. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing pools of emerald that seemed to see into his very soul. The doctor felt a jolt of arousal at the sound, his own heart racing in response to the primal call of the woman before him.

With each shock, her breasts would rise and fall, the pink tips of her nipples tightening and releasing in time with the rhythm of the machine. Her legs began to twitch, the muscles in her thighs flexing as if she were riding an unseen lover. The doctor's gaze was transfixed by the sight, his own body responding in kind as he watched the power of science bring her back from the brink.

The woman's moans grew louder, filling the room with a symphony of carnality that seemed to defy the very essence of the medical bay. Her hips rolled, the movement slow and seductive, as if she were lost in the throes of passion rather than the grip of a life-saving procedure. The doctor could feel his own need growing, a beast that threatened to consume him as he watched her come back to life before his very eyes.

He knew he had to maintain focus, to keep the electricity from burning her delicate flesh. With trembling hands, he adjusted the defibrillator, the machine's hum a steady backdrop to their intimate dance. The nanobots, those tiny soldiers of science, were working their magic, burrowing into the very fabric of her heart and mending the damage that had been wrought with each wave of electric fervor charging them.

Suddenly, the rhythmic pulse of the machine ceased, leaving only the echo of her final, gasping moan. Her chest stilled, the soft mounds of her breasts rising and falling with the fading remnants of her breath. The doctor's eyes narrowed, his concentration unbroken as he checked the ECG for any sign of life. But the line remained flat, a cold, unfeeling rejection of all his efforts.

With a growl of determination, he turned to her, his hand moving to her chest with a fiery passion. His palms pressed down with an intensity that was almost savage, the heat of his touch searing through her skin and into her very soul. The woman's breasts jiggled with each compression, the soft mounds seeming to implore him to continue, to give her the spark she needed to live.

The doctor's eyes remained glued to the mesmerizing dance of her chest, his mind racing with thoughts that were no longer purely clinical. The way her flesh yielded to his touch, the tantalizing bounce of her nipples with every press, it was as if he was kneading life back into her very essence. Each compression was a declaration of his desire, a silent promise to conquer the void that had claimed her.

Her breasts, those exquisite mounds of femininity, jiggled with a tantalizing rhythm under his palms, each movement a silent whisper of life's potential. The doctor found himself lost in the symphony of her body's response, his breathing growing shallow as he matched his own pulse to the rhythm of his compressions. It was as if he were conducting an orchestra of desire, each beat a crescendo that brought her closer to the precipice of existence.

The woman's skin grew slick with cold sweat, her body a sculpture of shimmering beauty in the stark light of the medical bay. The doctor's eyes traced the rivulets of moisture that danced down the valleys of her chest, her stomach, and between her legs, pooling in the soft, inviting warmth of her sex. He could feel the heat of her arousal, a scent that mingled with the sterility of the room and filled his nostrils with a heady perfume of desire.

With trembling hands, he raised the defibrillator paddles high above her, the cords snaking around his arms like a serpent ready to strike. His heart pounded in his chest, the rhythm matching the pulse of the machine, the anticipation of the impending shock a crescendo of passion that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Again," he murmured, his voice thick with the promise of life and the darker, more primal need that had been awakened in him. He brought the paddles down with the force of a lover's embrace, the crack of electricity piercing the silence like the snap of a whip.

Her body arched off the table, a sculpture of need and want, her skin gleaming with cold sweat that made her shine like a diamond in the stark light. The doctor's eyes feasted on the sight, the line between medical necessity and carnality blurring into oblivion. The ECG spasmed once more, the line rising and falling in a desperate quest for life.

The doctor's hand hovered over the defibrillator button, the anticipation palpable. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, the soft mounds of her breasts quivering with each shallow breath, as if begging for his touch. The room was a cocoon of need, the only sound the ragged inhale of his own breath and the erratic beep of the machine that kept her tethered to the world of the living.

With a fierce determination, he delivered another shock, the electricity coursing through her body like a bolt of lightning, illuminating every curve and contour with a fierce blue glow. Her boobs bounced with the force of his will, the tender flesh rippling in a symphony of life and lust. The doctor's eyes were glued to the mesmerizing display, his own breath hitching in his chest as he took in the beauty of her involuntary response.

And then, it happened. The ECG screen flickered, the line jolting upward with the suddenness of a dormant volcano springing to fiery life. The erratic peaks and valleys smoothed into a steady, pulsing wave—finally, the sweet, sweet rhythm of sinus rhythm. The room seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, the tension dissipating like a storm cloud after a passionate downpour. The doctor's eyes lit up with triumph, a fierce grin stretching across his face.

Read part two!

[resfan]

The Game: Chapter Eight

Intermezzo - Chapter Seven Here - Chapter Six Here - Chapter Five Here - Chapter Four Here - Chapter Three Here - Chapter Two Here - Chapter One Here

One month bled away, measured not by calendars, but by the fading kaleidoscope of bruises. The sickroom reek had vanished, chased out by Taylor’s signature Gardenia Deluxe candles. The bindings were gone. The rigid splints discarded. The ominous rattle in Taylor’s chest had subsided to a barely-there whisper, replaced by the smooth rhythm of her breathing – deep, controlled, effortless.

They moved differently now. Alex’s gait, once stiff and protective, had regained its former ease, though a watchfulness lingered in his eyes, a hyper-awareness of Taylor’s presence, her breath, the pulse he imagined beating beneath her unblemished skin. He stood shirtless before the bathroom mirror, tracing the faint, silvery lines where his own ribs had knit back together. Solid. Strong. Like tempered steel.

Taylor was a vision restored. She sat at her pristine vanity, the morning sun catching the platinum strands in her artfully messy bun. Her reflection was flawless – skin smooth and glowing, cheekbones sharp, lips painted a deep, commanding crimson. Gone was the deathly pallor, replaced by vibrant life. Her storm-grey eyes, however, held depths they hadn’t possessed before. A calm intensity, focused and unyielding. She meticulously applied eyeliner with a surgeon’s precision, the movement of her hand utterly steady. The tremors, the weakness – eradicated. Beneath the silk robe, her body was whole, the landscape of horrific bruising faded to faint, almost abstract smudges of yellow and green. She looked powerful. Indomitable. Radiant with a restored, terrifying vitality. "See something you like, Professor?" she murmured, catching his reflection watching her. Her voice was strong again, rich with its familiar velvet undertones, yet layered now with something harder, more resonant.

"Always, Mistress," Alex replied, leaning against the doorframe. He admired the sleek line of her neck, the curve of her shoulder. But his gaze kept drifting lower, past the robe’s edge, remembering the ruin, remembering the feel of shattered bone beneath his palms, the cold unresponsiveness, and then the violent, life-affirming heat he’d forced back into her. The memory sent a familiar, dark thrill through him. "You look… incredible. Whole." She finished the eyeliner with a final stroke and swiveled the chair to face him, the robe falling open slightly to reveal lean muscle and smooth skin. Her eyes swept over him, assessing, approving. "So do you," she said. Her gaze wasn't just appreciative; it was analytical, possessive. "Strong. Ready." She stood, the robe swirling around her. There was no trace of pain, no hesitation in her movement. She walked towards him, the click of her heels on the hardwood floor sharp and decisive. She stopped inches away, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. Her fingers reached up, tracing the faint scar-line on his collarbone – a relic from the defibrillator pad. His shiver wasn't from cold.

"We learned," she stated, her voice soft but carrying immense weight. "We paid the price. We mapped the boundaries." Her fingers trailed down his chest, over the smooth skin where conductive gel had once smeared, over the healed ribs. "Now, we refine the dance." She pressed her palm flat against his sternum, feeling the strong, steady thud of his heart beneath. "The fear is still there," she observed, her eyes boring into his. "I smell it. Like ozone after the storm. Good. Let it sharpen you." Her other hand slid around his waist, pulling him closer. Her touch was warm, demanding. "But the hesitation… that’s gone. Isn’t it?"

Alex looked down at her, at the fierce intelligence and unwavering command in her eyes. He remembered the silence, the blue lips, the terrifying stillness. He remembered the sheer, desperate will it took to push past the horror, to grind his fingers against her cold flesh, to force the life, the feeling, back into her. He remembered the power that surged through him when she gasped, when her eyes snapped open filled with pain and need. The hesitation was gone. Replaced by a dark, irrevocable certainty. He placed his hand over hers on his chest, feeling her own pulse thrumming strong and fast against his palm. "Gone," he confirmed, his voice low, rough with conviction. "I know my role."

A slow, predatory smile spread across Taylor’s lips. Satisfaction. Triumph. "Excellent." She stepped back, the moment of intimacy shifting seamlessly into preparation. She walked to the large, ornate wardrobe, the one that had always held her exquisite clothes and professional makeup kits. Now, it held something else. She swung the doors open. Inside, bathed in the soft light, wasn't fabric or cosmetics. It was precision. Gleaming steel. Carefully organized chaos. The defibrillator, no longer a battered yellow intruder, but a device that belonged. Its casing polished, wires neatly coiled. Beside it, a professional-looking programmable IV pump, its digital display dark but ready. Vials of clear liquid – Pandora-5 – secured in padded slots. A box of pristine, clinical adhesive defibrillator pads. A large, industrial-sized tub of conductive gel. And lying prominently beside it, the spring-loaded auto-injector Alex had perfected – a sleek, menacing shape of hardened plastic and tensioned steel.

Taylor ran a reverent finger along the cool casing of the defibrillator. "No gaps this time," she murmured, echoing her command from weeks ago. "Complete saturation. Perfect conduction." She picked up the tub of gel, hefting its cool weight. "The pump will deliver Pandora-5 with millisecond precision. No autonomic surge. Just… clean induction." Her gaze shifted to the auto-injector. "And the somatic protocol…" She picked it up, her grip firm and sure. It wasn't a medical tool anymore; it was an instrument of dark communion. "Our safety net. Our guarantee."

Alex approached the wardrobe, standing beside her. The scent of gardenias mingled with the faint, clean smell of electronics and plastic. He felt no dread. Only anticipation. A focused, humming energy. He picked up one of the adhesive pads, feeling its texture. "When?" he asked. The question wasn't tentative. It was readiness. Taylor turned, her eyes alight with that familiar, terrifying rapture, but sharper now. Focused. Polished. Like the defibrillator itself. "Tonight," she declared. Her hand reached out, not touching the equipment, but resting on his arm. Her touch was electric. "We've healed the vessel. Now we consecrate it." She leaned close, her crimson lips brushing his ear. Her whisper was a command, a promise, and a shared thrill: "Let's play the game again, Alex. Let's play it perfectly."

They stood together before their arsenal, bathed in the soft morning light filtering through the windows. The scars were hidden, the wounds closed. Their bodies were temples restored, ready to be vessels for the ultimate, electric sacrament. The fear was a familiar spice. The power was a shared current. The polished steel of the defibrillator glinted, a promise of controlled oblivion and violent rebirth. The game hadn't ended with near-destruction; it had evolved into something colder, sharper, infinitely more dangerous. Tonight, they wouldn't just touch the edge. They would carve their initials upon it. The intermezzo was over. The symphony of annihilation and ecstasy was about to begin its next, perfected movement. Alex met Taylor's gaze, and in their shared, unwavering certainty, the game felt as natural, and as vital, as breath.

[resfan]

Saving Chloe

She only wanted to relax, take the edge off a long day with a glass of wine in the hot tub. Chloe never realized how tired she was and never felt herself slip under the water.

The paramedics soon arrive, pulling the young woman from the water add laying her limp body on the floor. Her vitals are checked.

Working quickly, chest compressions are started, shaking her petite breasts before pushing air into her lungs. Chloe’s chest rises with the air rushing inside of her.

“No response.” An EMT says. “Keep doing CPR.” Rescue breaths and hard chest compressions continue on her lifeless body. “Breathe for us Chloe!”

“She’s still not breathing! Let’s get the ambu on her!” The fight to save Chloe’s life grows more desperate. The paramedics doing all they can to save her young life.

“Come back to us!” “Take a breath Chloe!” The words of encouragement go unanswered. Chloe remains lifeless on the floor.

“Wait!” An EMT yells, feeling for a pulse. Chloe starts to cough, spitting up the water that nearly ended her life. “It’s ok Chloe! We are right here!” They tell the frightened young girl.

Chloe is prepared to be taken to the ER where she will be monitored carefully over night. But the question remains, can her heart withstand such an ordeal?

Her struggle may have just started…

[resfan]

asthma can be killer 👀

[resfan]

Here it is, the long awaited video. There could be a second part...

Please do not post off of Tumblr

[resfan]

Rescue Theater 0.6 Release

I just released a new version of Rescue Theater. Download it here.

Change Log:

Characters

Natalie

Caleb

Added the ability to hide the selected character using the 'F2' key.

Environments

Rooftop Restaurant

Audio

Added sound effects to the Heimlich, Backslaps, and Self Heimlich modes.

Simulation

Added heart health bar.

Added an airway obstruction progress bar for the choking modifier.

Made it impossible to "fail" a shockable rhythm on the first defib shock attempt.

Rescue Script

Added a user controlled dialogue system. In game, advance the dialogue using the 'K' key.

Added a Script Editor to the game set up menu. Use this to add/edit dialogue.

Various bug fixes and improvements

[resfan]

Bowing Out (Part 3-final part)

If you know my stories, you know how this is going to end...

As soon as her heart went into arrest for the second time the medics knew they were just prolonging the inevitable. Allison continued giving compressions while Elaine prepared more medication and Tim pumped air into the dying girls lungs. Without blood tests and other information they had no way of knowing that the girls potassium was devastatingly low and had been for some time. There was no medication on board they could give her to reverse the problem without more resources

Her heart had been in abnormal rhythms for days before the events that unfolded on the track. The final run must have set her over the edge from excessive sweating causing dehydration pushing her body over the edge.

"She needs another dose of epi!" said Allison upon seeing no change on the monitor. "Tim, take over compressions" Tim abandoned the bag and stood next to the girl's body and placed his hands over Allison's ready to jump in as soon as she moved backwards and off. Allison practically feel over as Jose hit a speed bump, but there was no interruption in compressions thanks to Tim's handiwork. Maya's chest was so easy to pump now, especially with Tim's strong arms, and from the side would have looked like he was putting his hand through her chest as her breasts collapsed into themselves.

"Come on Maya, give us something" said Elaine as she injected another 2mg of epi reaching the max dose. Allison moved to the front of the girl's body and checked her pupils as she squeezed the bag every five seconds. The team knew they had a difficult ride of 7 minutes ahead of them with the coach sitting in the front and watching, listening to every word being said. A simple nod was all Allison could give the other as she saw that they were blown and unreactive to light.

The sirens screeched around them as they sped around corners with a body that would be determined to be dead practically upon arrival. For the safety of the crew they continued and switched off, but the speed and determination of their efforts began to dwindle.

There were no rhythms to shock and no meds to give as she maxed out on everything between the two arrests. The medics could sense the coach's awareness of the situation, but it's better to not tell someone their loved one is dead in a moving vehicle.

Elaine took over the last set of compressions before getting to the hospital. In these situations she always felt a sense of disgust as she continued resuscitative efforts on a person prolonging their suffering, but the protocol required that she continue until a doctor could call time of death. The ride ended up taking 20 minutes instead of 7 after having to go around multiple accidents on the highway, ensuring that Maya would not be able to be revived.

Upon arriving to the hospital the code team was there and ready to continue the efforts of the now physically and emotionally exhausted paramedics. There would be a short assessment as they wheeled her into the trauma bay with Elaine straddling the girl and pumping her chest into the bed. The doctor checked for any signs of life and discontinued resuscitative efforts. "She has been down 23 minutes- another 7 minute arrest before that- without any change and pupils are blown. I'm calling time of death now" he said after seeing no response to light and listening to her chest and watching the monitor.

When he told Coach Smith, who had tried to push her way into the trauma bay but was successfully held back by a nurse, she collapsed on the floor. Behind them nurses worked on cleaning up Maya's body by removing tubes and electrodes, and finally, pulling a sheet up to just below her neck.

Once she recovered, Coach Smith entered the room where Maya lay on the bed, the sheet up covering her bruised and battered chest, tubes and electrodes removed at this point, looking like she was sleeping. She stroked her face gently, as a parent does, and cried while the doctor called the parents to inform them of the tragedy.

THE END

[resfan]

I wish I had real paramedics to work on me 🚑🚨

Enjoy ! ⚡

And as usual, please, don't post it anywhere else thank you.

[resfan]

Liquid Speed 2

Vivian remains unconscious in the ICU post heart surgery. The machines keep her alive and the nurses keep a close eye on her. Lexi enters for another vital check but the monitor begins to beep at a very fast pace. Toni and Kay are called in to prep the patient for a cardioversion. The machine is hooked up to her and the jolt runs through the heart. The outcome is unsuccessful and more cardioversions take place only to lead to another cardiac arrest. Vivian once again is under resus receiving CPR and defibrillators from the nurses that refuse to give up hope they can get her back again.

https://www.digital02.com/product/liquid-speed-part-2/

[resfan]

Dialogue System Demo

One of my long term goals for Rescue Theater is to add a story mode. That is still a long way off, but a few weeks ago I had an idea for a basic dialogue system that is completely user controlled.

This dialogue system is part of a bigger feature that I'm calling Rescue Script. In the future, Rescue Script will be much more powerful. For now, it only allows the user to write dialogue in the Script Editor, then display it in game using the 'K' key.

As the dialogue must be written ahead of time, this feature isn't aimed for people interested in the game play aspects of Rescue Theater. It's more for people who are interested in writing their own stories or recording their own videos.

As it stands, the dialogue system has two big issues:

There is no way to save the dialogue. When the user quits the game, everything they have written will be lost.

The user effectively has to memorize their script in order to sync it up with the game play. If you write some dialogue that goes with a certain mode, you don't want to accidentally play it in a different mode.

Both of these problems will be addressed in future versions of Rescue Script. I just wanted to get a very basic version in the game for the 0.6 release, which is coming out very soon. Let me know what you think of this feature!

[resfan]

Mmm the mad Dr spiked her drink while she was at work. Now unconsciousness falls over her as she crashes into the soft bed. He waits a while outside her door until he thinks she's ready. He comes in grinning. Two fingers press to her carotid. A hand slides to her kitty... "You're about to go Into cardiac arrest sweetheart." He murmurs in her ear as she stops breathing. "Mmm there you go." He rubs a nipple. "That's it. Gooooood giiirrrrlll. His hand moves to her chest. No movement. He waits for the pulse to stop. Then the fun can begin...