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Tired, drunk, aaaaand it's three in the morning.

And I got a sword in the mail today. What the hell, it is now officially 'Questing for the Hell of It' O'clock.

_________________________________________________________________

This city is crazy.

You knew that basically three days after you moved here, and realized that about one in five animals could talk, people travel by rooftop as much as by side-walk, and massive crowds of people just falling unconscious in the streets was simultaneously normal and 'an urban legend that no one really believes in'.

Considering that the person who'd told you that last bit had been wiping the dirt off his tie and wondering when his shirt had gotten so muddy, you've started wondering if maybe there's something in the water here you should be worried about.

But, for one reason or another, you've stayed.

Maybe it was because there was a lot of money flowing around to counteract the whole lack of common sense thing. Money makes the world go round, and the minimal pay rates in this city are nuts.

Maybe it was the higher percentage of women to men that you liked, even if somehow most of them were too busy to date or engaged somehow. You can think of another explanation for that, but there's something really weird about /everyone/ in a singles club talking about how they don't have time for love or are so excited to get married or something along those lines.

Or maybe it's the fact that despite the madness that goes on during the day to day stuff, the magical girls and kamen riders that seem to crawl out of the woodwork, the giant monsters and devilish lawyers, and the horrors of somehow making sure all of your stuff continues to be insured against pretty much everything...

You like it here.

It's mad, it's crazy, it's everything real life should not be on planet earth, and you've somehow gotten yourself a bug's eye view of the action.

Another beautiful day in the city is dawning, and you're just happy to be alive.
>>
>>40795028

Of course, that still doesn't actually get you out of work...

>Roof Top Restaurant. The Bar and Grill that's the place where an extremely large amount of 'unusual' individuals gather for it's convenience. Not that the owner knows that...

>Cypher Tech. You may or may not be working for a demonic individual that considers themselves 'subtle', but the pay is good and the benefits are cool too. Just make sure to read the fine print...

>Galaxy Storage. Do not look in the box. You do not want to look in the box. You saw what happened to the last guy who looked in the box, and swept him up off the floor. Light work for heavy pay, though.
>>
>>40795031
>Galaxy Storage. Do not look in the box. You do not want to look in the box. You saw what happened to the last guy who looked in the box, and swept him up off the floor. Light work for heavy pay, though.
>>
>>40795031
>Roof Top Restaurant.
Ayyy let`s be a cook
>>
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>>40795248
>>40795267

YES!

VOTES!

Contradictory ones, but OK!

Can we get a tie-breaker?

I'll call it in a few more minutes if we can't.
>>
>>40795302
just combine both
restaurants need storage areas too,and who the hell knows what do people eat these days anyway
>>
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>>40795321
Not a bad idea!

Writing...
>>
You work at the Roof Top Restaurant.

The owner, a master chef who didn't actually want to be bothered by people, figured that building her restaurant out of reach of most folk would result in less traffic and more time for her to screw around in the kitchen and laze around.

Maybe in other places that could have worked, but here?

A restaurant above street-level with a master-chef and that normal people tended to avoid?

she drew in hungry customers like a bloody steak in a shark tank.

Which drives her a little nuts some days, but she's also making money hand over fist, a fact that's reflected in your wages. So, you suppose she's got that going for her at least.

Still, some days you wish she wasn't so...

>Drunk.
>Magical.
>Monstery.
>Paranoid.
>>
>>40795412
>>Drunk.
>>Magical.
>>Horny.
>>Paranoid.
>>
>>40795412
>Drunk.
>Magical.
>>
>>40795412
>Paranoid.
which leads to
>Drunk.
>>
>>40795420
>>40795505
>>40795506


So, we've Drunk, Magical, Horny, and Paranoid.

Anyone have a problem mixing these together?
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>>40795555
Mix! Mix! Mix!
>>
>>40795555
not really, you can just get a paranoid wisard who gets drunk to get the edge off,which makes her horny
ez pz
>>
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>>40795564
>>40795571


I'm drunk enough to think this is a good idea, so why not.

Incidentally, what exactly are the are the rules for posting smut here?
>>
>>40795582
>Incidentally, what exactly are the are the rules for posting smut here?
It's fine.
>>
>>40795582
Just don`t make the whole purpose of the quest to do lewd shit and we`re fine
>>
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>>40795412

Well, the issue is that she's a bit paranoid.

Actually, that's a bit of a lie to be honest. The issue isn't that she's paranoid. That's just what get's the ball rolling. It starts off that she's a little worried about something small. Like a friend coming over and that she won't have time to hang out because she's working.

Then because she's starting to worry, it gets a little bit bigger. What happens if a food critic shows up and she's not on her game, or if something expensive catches fire? From there, it starts to really spiral out of control and you honestly think she should make time for a therapist to help her deal with it, especially if some of those things she says when she thinks you can't hear are true.

Instead she drinks.

You think it's some sort of wine, but the bottles aren't labeled and all look hand-blown. So, apart from 'probably expensive', you don't quite know what it is, and you've never really felt the need to find out because a few glasses later you're too busy fending off her suddenly very grabby hands and encouraging her that, yes, those clothes should stay on during business hours.

Today though, the Roof Top is closed.

You're just here to do some cleaning, make sure the food for tomorrow is prepped, maybe change the light bulbs, and double check that your employer doesn't accidentally decide to burn the curtains down by throwing lightning at bees. Again.

It's funny, though...

>The doors are unlocked.
>There's these paper seals on the door.
>Some one else is here?
>>
>>40795727
>The doors are unlocked.
>>
>>40795727
>The doors are unlocked.
>>
>>40795727
>>The doors are unlocked.
>>
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>>40795727

The doors are unlocked.

For a brief second you begin to panic.

Then the fruity and familiar smell of her wine comes through as you open the door and you relax.

You figure this won't be fun, but at the very least it's probably not a robber.

Carefully peering around reveals that she's kept to a lower than usual level of devastation. Or at least has restricted it to just the kitchen. Or maybe that 'secret room' she thinks you don't know about.

You put a giant painting on the wall, and eventually some is going to take it down to either do some dusting or find out if those hinge-looking things are hinges. If she ever asks, you're going to claim the former before the latter.

Walking through the serving area, you don't see any abandoned bottles yet though, which is a good sign. What isn't, is the underwear on the floor.

The very thin, very lacy underwear on the floor.

Oh boy.

>Keep looking for the boss.
->Kitchen
->Secret Room
>Nope, you're not getting into this mess. Time to sweep the front and wait her out.
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>>40795946
>Keep looking for the boss.
->Kitchen
->Secret Room
>>
>>40795946
>Nope, you're not getting into this mess. Time to sweep the front and wait her out.
i mean,we are tired of her shit
>>
>>40795946
>->Kitchen
Gotta make sure it's clean if she ain't there clean up whatever mess she made and let her do her business, if she is there get her out then clean up. Yeah woman hold you liquor better.
>>
>>40795946

You make your way to kitchen, taking a bit more care than usual to make sure your feet are hitting the ground a little noisier then they usually would.

Three hard knocks on the door frame.

No response.

Carefully leaning past the entrance, reveals... an absolute mess.

Dishes are everywhere, bottles litter pretty much every surface, spoons in gigantic piles next to mounds of ammunition.

Most of that is pretty normal when she goes on a bender, but you'll admit the bullets aren't exactly a common one. But it's not the first time they've turned up.

A smile tugs at your lips. At least she wasn't sleeping alone last night.

Still, you've got your work cut out for you.

Taking an ammo can out from the bottom of the closet, you start sweeping the rounds off the floor and pouring them into it. After this, you'll need to clear some counter space and start filling the sinks to make everything gets washed, and after that...

... It's been two hours, and you've basically proven why you make more money than you really should at this kind of job by taking a titanic mess and tidying the whole thing away before anyone's really even woken up.

Pots and pans are in there places, spoons on their respective hooks, and ammo sorted by caliber.

You're a beast of a homemaker.

All that's left is to decide whether to just leave and have the rest of the day to yourself... Or to cook something to draw the beasts out of their hiding spots into the light of day where you can have a little conversation. And maybe the opportunity to see the boss and her friend a little more scantly clad than usual, but hey, that's just a possible perk.

>Go home.
>Cook, and maybe take in eyeful of skin.
>>
>>40796323
>>Cook, and maybe take in eyeful of skin.
Then give them a lecture on how guns do not belong in a kitchen.
>>
>>40796323
>Go home.
>>
>>40796323
>Cook, and maybe take in eyeful of skin.
>>
>>40796323
>Cook, and maybe take in eyeful of skin.
>>
>>40796323

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

You cleaned up the mess, you might as well make sure they wake up and have a decent breakfast too.

Now, in a normal place it'd take a while for the scent of the frying sausage to get around, even if the sizzle seems a little too loud when it's just you in the kitchen. But you shouldn't have been able to smell the wine from the door either. A unique property of this place, and by unique you mean enchanted that way by the owner, was that smells permeated from the kitchen. The intended purpose was two-fold, as far as you can tell. First, to entice even arriving customers with the smell of fresh food without having to worry about making sure little things like air currents and walls got in the way.

The other was to ensure that if something was burning, she could smell it from any part of the building and respond immediately. Not that that's ever happened, but that's paranoia for you.

Putting a pot of coffee on, you are soon greeted by your first sight of the day, one lovely lady Homura.

Not that she's much of a morning person, or so you've inferred from past experience and the way she ignores you to stare at the coffee pot with bloodshot eyes, willing the thing to try and boil faster.

You just chuckle and shake your head, turning your attention away from her thong clad ass and back to mixing pancake batter. There you are, and now to pour...

There's suddenly a very loud sort of popping and you smile.
>>
>>40796595


"Good morning, Homura." You turn and meet her still bloodshot eyes. "That's a very nice dress. Where do you get those things?" She smooths the skirt again, eyebrow twitching.

"Nicholas." She nods. "When did you get here?"

"About two and a half hours ago." Her eyes narrow, and you can practically see her brain start to warm up to perform the necessary calculations to figure out when that was.

"You were here at /five/?" She eventually croaks.

"I do work here, you know." A casual reply as you turned over the first pancake on the griddle.

"I know that, but..." An outstreteched hand wriggles, fingers clenching, before she just relaxes all over again and gives up rational thought until the coffee is done.

Which is right when someone else arrives.

>Your boss.
>Homura's wife/boss.
>That white cat.
>>
>>40796608
>Homura's wife/boss.
>>
>>40796608
>>Homura's wife/boss.
>>
>>40796595

Madoka is a lovely person.

She's kind, polite, has bright pink hair, and in her relationship with Homura she's the one wearing the pants.

This is both literal and metaphorical.

Madoka loves cute looking things, and as soon as you look away again, you know where her hands are going to go.

You oblige her and refocus all of your attention on the pancakes. Seconds later there's the start of a whispered conversation and although Homura stays silent you can practically feel her blush radiating from across the room. When the time comes to turn around, you loudly annonce that the pancakes are finished before even beginning to face them.

Homura's clothes are almost perfectly unruffled, even if she seems to breathing hard and blushing enough to spontaneously turn into a tomato, while Madoka simply gives you one of her trademark innocent smiles as she takes a seat on a stool.

"So, how's work down at the office going?" You initiate the small talk, serving them up some fresh pancakes. A few more words are exchanged, before your boss steadily weaves into the room, half-sleepwalking to her usual spot at the kitchen table.

She's wearing a long sweater that reaches down to her thighs and somehow manages to hug all of her curves without actually revealing any details.

>Pour Coffee. Wait for it.
>Slide her (washed) underwear across the table.
>Ask if she's sure she doesn't want to get changed.
>>
>>40796894
>Pour Coffee. Wait for it.
>>
>>40796894
>>Pour Coffee. Wait for it.
>>
>>40796894

You pour the coffee and just wait for the lights to turn on.

She smiles absently, head bobbing as the mug finds it's way to her lips.

For a long moment, nothing seems to happen.

She just looked vaguely pleased in the direction of the entire room and nurses her coffee.

Then, all the neurons fire at once and she flees the table squealing, both hands at the hem of her sweater, tugging it as low as possible.

This stretches the rest of the thing tighter over her curves, and you're back to cooking before she's even left the room.

At the table, Madoka giggles, somehow managing to sound like a school girl despite being at least twenty, you'd bet maybe older given how her eyes get sometimes. You suppose it's a good thing she can laugh at all.

Still, eventually Tomoe comes back to the table in actual clothes, and decidedly ignores you for a bit. Although she does cave readily enough in exchange for the pancakes you made.

Without you noticing, Homura's already disapear'd all of her bullets to wherever they go when she's not using them, while Madoka finishes tapping away at something or another on her smartphone.

She smiles at you and your boss. Then, very clearly, very obviously, seizes her lover's ass in one hand and leans toward the pair of you, mouthing a single word.

'Mine.'

The she daintily kisses the swooning Homura on the cheek and chirps that she'll be waiting for her downstairs. To her credit, the girl doesn't waste much time beyond the initial sputter before racing after Madoka.

For a second, you and Tomoe just look out the door after them.

Then your boss sighs and you start laughing.

You really do love this city.
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>>40797229

And that's that.

I have a meeting to get to later, and I want to get a nap in before then. If the thread isn't dead, I'll resume the run in the afternoon. If it is, then I'll probably start it up again later tonight.

Phantom Genesis will be on thursday.
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>>40797269
Alright then, interesting so far. Still doing the retired familiar quest?
>>
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>>40796608
>mfw the PC has my name

100% immeresed
>>
bump.
>>
bump for shaderic's return!



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