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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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You wake up with a crick in your next, your head against desk in your room. The past few days have been eventful. After Liberating Harrfell, everyone gathered in the town hall, to count out the losses. There, you found the trash and garbage that littered the place after the bandit's occupation. You also found your childhood freind Wren, half naked, and coverd in bruises, her usual scars exposed. Dr.Marches took her back to his House while the meeting was ongoing to do a proper medical examination, but you can guess what happened. The meeting that was held passed like a flash for you. Most of the losses were in food, and heirlooms sold by the brigands who'd taken the town, though a few of the citizens had lost their lives trying to defend against the bandits. You were barely aware enough to hear that your father died with 7 bodies beneath his feet before falling to a hail of crossbow fire. No one mentioned you at all, though you could feel eyes on you the entire way through. You followed Halia home after the meeting, walking in complete silence. The next two days are a blurry mess, most of which you spent sleeping, eating, and regaining your energy. The third day, Dr. Marches visisted you.
"Dr. Marches?"
"I've never seen a corpse in such good condition."
"Why thank you Doctor, That's an encouraging statement."
"Well, in retrospect, I'm going to reject my earlier analysis. You're not dead."
"I'm not? I thought my heart wasn't beating?"
"It's not. You're not dead. But you aren't alive either."
"Doctor? Are you sure the, uh... past few days havn't affected your judgement?"
"Look, I don't know how, but while your heart isn't beating, your blood isn't flowing, and you don't breathe, you do heal your wounds, you can move just fine, and you seem to be just as aware as any other human I've ever seen. You're not alive, you're not dead, you're not undead, you're just... stopped. Your body is in a magically enforced stasis of sorts."
"So you're saying I'm so close to dying that I can't die?"
"Oh you can definately die. I have my theories as to other methods, but fire, acid, magic, anything that could destroy your body in its entirety will kill you just as it would anything else."
"Theories Doc?"
"I mentioned that while I was sewing up your bolt wound, I had to cut into your body cavity to remove the head? While I was fishing around I took a look at your heart. A small chunk of it is a healthy, beating red."
"I thought you said my heart wasn't beating?"
"Most of it isn't. Your sister mentioned that when you first entered the house, you told her what you'd been doing this entire time. She wouldn't tell me what this was, but I can only assume that when you metaphorically speaking "got it off your chest" a part of your body came back to life."
"So if you continue to follow that logic, you could step off of deaths doorstep."
"Huh. Well I'll keep that in mind."
"One more thing James."
"Dr. Marches?"
"My clinic is full enough of the dead without dealing with those in need of healing. I've looked over Wendry. Other than some... confidentialities, I can confirm that once she wakes up, she'll be completely fine."
"What do you mean confidetialities?"
"Apart from starvation, and beatings, I can't inform you about the state of her health. Doubtless she'll tell you herself when she can"
"So, why did you bring this up?"
"Most of the people who I can shift out of the clinic return to their homes, and families. Wren was living in her lab James. And she doesn't have a family."
Your heart sticks in your throat for a second. "Oh."
"I don't suppose-"
"Wren has always been welcomed in this house Doctor."
"Thank you James."
Your sister appears in the door, obviously having heard the whole conversation.
"She can take your room James. Dad's room's off bounds."

Which is why your eyes subconciously run along the over lapping curved crosses on Wren's cheeks when you towards the mirror that Halia left in your room. Some colour has returned to your face since two days ago, and you aren't feeling quite as numb. You're even remembering to breath so people aren't so put off by you.
What will you do today?
>Hunt. Halie's been bringing all the food to the table and you feel a bit guilty.
>Wander around. Surely you can find someone who's willing to talk to you.
>Rest. You're still not feeling so great.
>Practice. Dad's sword isn't the lightest thing in the world, and you're still not fully used to your body's limits.
>Write in/remember the town.
40 minutes to vote call.

Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=One%20Foot%20in%20the%20grave

Fuck you and fuck 4-chan too.

I've been having a bad time. Mostly due to depression, so that's most of the reason behind yesterday, other than my computer not understanding that I actually need Word Pad, so if it could not delete it that would be nice.
While I wait, I might as well post the Character "cards" (just robbed from the bios and decided on the health system.)

James Mantell III
Hp: 5/6

Hair: Blonde
Skin: Light
Eyes: Dark Grey
Height: 5'11''
Age: 20
Build: Skinny

Active: Swashbuckler, Pirate's eye, Brother Protector
Unlocked: Innovative
Path: Path of Redemption
Potential pathways: Unknown
Equipment: Sharp Sword, Clean Shirt+Pants. Small Buckler, tribal knife
Halia Mantell.
HP: 3/3

Hair: Auburn-Red
Skin: olive
Eyes: Dark Blue
Height: 5'6''
Build: Well Proportioned

Traits: Temptress, Combat dancer knife hunter
Unlocked: Woodcarver,
Path: Adventurous spirit
Pathways: unknown
Equipment: Comfy pants, light dress, Hunting knife, light knivesx17, Mother's hairpin, woodcarving
I also typed up Wren's character Bio. Because I felt like being needlessly edgy. And stupid.

Wendry Faircall*
Hair: Chestnut
Skin: Dark Tan
Eyes: Steel Grey
Height: 5'2''
Age: 20
Build: Stocky
Wendry or, as she's more commonly called "Wren" is of mixed parentage. Physically, she appears as a short, dark tanned elf, but her other features attest to what we assume is a dwarven father. Flat nose, broad shoulders, and a resilience not seen in most elves, a trait she put to use through out her life. Neither of her parents are known, but reports from around the time of her appearance in Harrfell suggests she is the child of one of the Faircall roaming traders, and a dwarven merchant. What brought her to our attention is her more recent exploration into alchemy. One of our agents (Codename: Demagogue) decided to teach her what they knew, after discovering Wendry's moon-shining operation under their greenhouse. She quickly showed an aptitude for the measurements, distillations and purifications implicit to the craft; perhaps unsurprisingly after her success in the illegal alcohol industry. Also of note is her connection to Captain Mantell. When Wendry first appeared, she was little older than 6, and formed a fast bond with the aspiring pirate, fortunately for her. Unable to find a home, she would have been left to fend for herself, but that Mantell had a hideout in the nearby Knightwoods. For the next 9 years, she lived alone, only showing up in town to trade what she had caught, or made for supplies. However, during that time, the children of the town shunned, or attacked her. It was during these fights she began to earn the innumerous scars that mark her skin, giving her a mottled pattern across her flesh. These alone were not enough to do enough damage for her current appearance.
At the age of 13, her moon-shining operation in the woods, where she had been distilling local berries, and river cane into a brew that's come to be well known locally, as "King of Birds" exploded. The splinters and glass shards shredded her face in a pattern that's strangely curved, focusing around the cheekbones and jaw. Agent Demagogue reported that it's thanks to the the quick thinking of Dr.Marches, who, unable to fully heal the flesh, was instead able to save most of her face, leaving only the deepest cuts as scars. Her body, however, suffered just as much from the explosion and those wounds could only left to heal naturally. In spite of this, it clearly did not dissuade, and used what she had saved up to buy enough glassware, and refining techniques to master her brew, and used her less than reputable connections, to Captain Mantell, and one Henry Foiles to get a small cubby dug out underneath the aforementioned greenhouse. An impressive feat considering it was not noticed for 5 years. When Agent Demagogue noticed it, it was only because of the smell of cooking berries rising from the ground. They quickly took in the young brewer, and Wendry moved into her lab, Berries and river cane being provided to her by the sister of Captain Mantell, who had at that point, become a hunter, and occasional waitress at the local tavern. As of now, 1 barrel of "King of Birds"is being provided every 4 months to the agency, where it has become quite popular.
Traits: Alchemist, Boozer
Inactive: Hard Knock
Path: Brewmaster
Pathways: Grogmaster
Equipment: Girly nightgown(borrowed)
You know, I'm just going to monitor this until I get at least 2 votes. If nothing happens for an hour, I'll post this again Tomorrow. Probably. Gods above I feel awful.
>Practice. Dad's sword isn't the lightest thing in the world, and you're still not fully used to your body's limits.

Hope you'll feel better, Red. Wish there was something I could do.
>>Write in/remember the town.
See if anyone can open up the greenhouse now that the town is cleared up of bandits. Should be a lot of things there the doc could find useful. Redemptor when you post that the the thread is up itd also be nice to post a link.
I remembered to think of that after I posted, unfortunately. I'll get it next time.

Yeah, depression feels awful. While there's some things you can do about it, usually the reason you're depressed is 'cause, your life actually suck. Apparently mine does, which is news to me. Gonna give it another 5 before doing anything.

Oh and, please, I didn't check anything that I posted, so if it's worse than usual, please point it out.
Everything looks good today Redem. I also suffer from the depressions. Nothing I do is fun anymore, (except questing) music doesn't sound as good as it used too, and I quit my job for no reason.
Hooooo, shit dude. I know the feeling. You ever get the thing where fucking everything looks grey and wrong?

In other news, minion is "Tsundere" for Mr.Carp, I need a graphic for Wendry, and I can't remember where I was going to go next with this quest. PANIC STATIONS.
I don't see grey but most days everything is in slow motion and days last seemingly forever.
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>Practice. Dad's sword isn't the lightest thing in the world, and you're still not fully used to your body's limits.

You know, there's something you should get used to. Namely, a sword. You got lucky with the bandits, and from the mumbling around town (when it isn't about you) They aren't the only trouble in Loerian. You get up and walk past your semi-comatose best friend (and sorta crush), pick up Dad's (your) sword and decide that actually, you need something to practice on, and you'd still like a way out of your bedroom that doesn't involve the door, so the tree is not a good dummy. On your way out of the house, you take a peek around to see if Dad had anything He had to practice on. Surprisingly, he didn't but Halia made something to practice on. A nice, lovely, giant woodcarving of an orc. With knives stuck in areas that really aren't nice to have knives sticking into. It's a little discomforting to think that your little sister has a terrifyingly accurate aim with non aerodynamic objects. You bring the dummy outside and around the back of your house to practice on.

> Sword practice gained +1 on any non-special attacks
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>See if anyone can open up the greenhouse now that the town is cleared up of bandits

Thinking back on your child hood as you take a break from working the kinks out of your muscles, you somehow fall on the topic of Mary Pollok's greenhouse. It was a little wierd that she cultivated so many flowers in there. And all of them had some medicinal or, on further thought, toxic purpose. Mary Pollok was a short lady with cropped greying hair, who liked cats, strong alcohol, and the colour pink, but every day, you'd find her spending her 11 O'Clock break watering and caring for her many flowers, bushes and herbs. Dr.Marches wasn't even allowed in there, and you're thinking to see why. Half of the things in there, you heard about in Port Shailod. And not for their medicinal uses. Hell, you used the extracts of more than a few of them to climb the ranks. Any sane person wouldn't go near the things, and yet, this little old lady was a curator to them. You don't know about her will, now that she's passed on, but most of her possessions are in the town hall.

"James, get off your ass and help me with this!"

"Halia, what have you dragged ba-"

Your little sister drags into view the largest damn elk you've ever seen. 3 sets of antlers intertwining, and 3 sets of legs to match.


> Don't question it. You saw more exotic catches in Port Shailod. Help out.

> "Any idea what's going to happen to Mary Pollok's Greenhouse?
Giving you 30 minutes while I get some tea, I guess.
>> Don't question it. You saw more exotic catches in Port Shailod. Help out.
>> "Any idea what's going to happen to Mary Pollok's Greenhouse?

Work's more fun if you have something to talk about, after all.

I hope your depression won't hit you any harder. That kinda think can be wicked hard to deal with.
>> "Any idea what's going to happen to Mary Pollok's Greenhouse?
I bet the plants have come to life or something because of the ambient magic from the door and the neglect.
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> Don't question it. You saw more exotic catches in Port Shailod. Help out.
> "Any idea what's going to happen to Mary Pollok's Greenhouse?

Your giant elks ain't got nothing on shark-toothed whales, sis.
HEhahhaheahHWEhaehrasdkhfl. *hack hack* Ahem... Shhhhhhh. You're just giving me more ideas...
plant girl?
plant boy?
I wasn't but now I am. I wish I wasn't. But I might. Depending on your actions. Maybe.

I can dig it. HUE.
Aren't plants hermaphrodites? futa plant person?
No. I won't. Go see if you can't bully Mr.Smut into writing it, but I have too many /d/eviants as it is.
If it's good, I might make it canon
B-but I am mr smut... When did I ever give off the impression I could write it? All I did was ask for it.
Just do what I do, don't think about writing, just do it. If people hate it, they hate it. Take their criticism into account and try again until you get it right. The worst thing to do is stop and say "what next?" The hardest part is GETTING PEOPLE TO TELL YOU WHAT YOU'RE DOING RIGHT OR WRONG. Seriously. Please, I need your appraisal!!!
Uuuh. Okay thanks bro.
Good luck and Godspeed!


> Don't question it. You saw more exotic catches in Port Shailod. Help out.
> "Any idea what's going to happen to Mary Pollok's Greenhouse?

You get off your ass as ordered and move to get your shoulders underneath the frankly massive elk. You can see the trail of blood from the carcass leading to the Gate just east of your house. Really, you have to give your sister credit, you didn't think she had the muscle mass to haul something so heavy all the way from wherever she caught it. Not so heavy that you can't lift it, you spent the last 2 years of your life on a ship where in a storm even the captain has to pitch in to take down the sails. And those things are heavy when wet.
"Asshole" Your sisters comment catches you off guard and you stumble as you lift.
"What did I do now?"
"You were just thinking that it's surprising I got this far. Firstly that thing was just outside of town, and secondly, You're an asshole."
Even for that short a distance, it's impressive. She must be packing some new muscles under that summer dress thing she decided to hunt in. Best to change the topic
"Anyway, I was just thinking about what's going to happen to Mary Pollok's Greenhouse. Wren's lab is under there, and we should probably tell whoever owns it not to poke around."
"You don't know? Wren's been living under there. Mary Pollok found her hiding out down there one day and gave her a hiding in front of the whole town. I guess that she's given the place to your girlfriend"
"She's not-, I don't!" You sputter and stumble "How do you even know these things??"
"You still blush when you talk about her, you didn't think twice about giving her your room, and you've barely left her side for 2 days."
You finally drop the carcass just beside the doorstep, where Dad had set up a skinning station for Halia. Over the years, she's added her own tanning hut, smoking line, and drying mats, as well as a few hunting trophies that are sat on the wall that backs the kitchen, as it juts out in front of the house.
"You're too perceptive, I swear."
> " So Wren's got her own place, but she's locked it huh? any way of me getting in?"
> "So what do you want me doing instead of that?"
> "Any news on the King'smen?"

I really hate that 4-chan doesn't remember copy-pasted breaks.
>> "So what do you want me doing instead of that?"
Lightly run your hands along Halias back. "Someone sounds jealous."
Cheeky, creepy, and only slightly incestuous. Sounds fucking perfect.
...you have my vote.
Oh shit, I forgot voting margins....
Uh, uh... 20 mins!
Not to question you or anything, but four people were in favour of the idea. And according to the IP-count there's four people in this thread.

Just saying.
Mr.Smut wins again. Better get writing there Redem.
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>unanimous support of incest

I swear, if this becomes incest quest, I will go out, buy a hat, and eat it.

*sigh* Writing...
It's only sort of incest. We aren't even blood related. It seems to me we've always had a weird relationship with our "sister".
Just a little bit.

Incest sidequest, if you will.
> "So what do you want me doing instead of that?" + write in

You run your hands down your sisters back, taking care to trace her spine with your ring fingers, just slowly enough...

You can see her tense up, shocked before un-tensing and beginning to spin on you.

"You sound jealous." You cock your eyebrow at her.

"James, what in the Nine Hells is wrong with you. I thought you'd grow out of that, it's fucking creepy!"

"What? I was just cleaning my hands of blood, and you've got your dress all bloody anyway!" You gesture to her garment. She knows anyway, but it's always fun to deny it.

"You know exactly what you did. Seriously, who does that?"

"I'm sorry" You give your usual sideways grin "but your reactions are hilarious. Even Wren acknowledges it!"

"Well just stop it. It feels wrong"

"That would be the point."

"Well, just don't do it. I'm fed up to here with the stress of the past few days."

"What do you want me doing instead?"

"You *could* help me out with the carcass, but I'm guessing you meant long term"

You take the opportunity to help her as she cuts a line from the beasts neck all the way to it's groin. You slide your knife from the pocket of your shirt, and start separating the skin from the fat underneath

"What you could do is take a few more days off, get back in shape, and then come with me to Lovellbutts. That is, if Wren has woken up by then."

"Wait, Lovellbutts? Why?"

"In case you haven't noticed, there hasn't been a guard patrol in more than a week. No guards means more bandits, more monsters, and worst of all, no news. Harrfell is duller than river iron if there isn't the tasty piece of gossip in the Hog's Head."

> No patrols? Huh. That's bad. What are we going to do though?
> Shouldn't we just head to Port Shailod? It's the only place in 80 miles with a permanent barracks.
> And if Wren doesn't wake?
>Write in

Just add cross-dressing to this nonsense and we'll end up with proper British humor.
and we'll be dealing with topics that have me feeling... anxious... for reasons. I have weird friends. Shut up.
>> And if Wren doesn't wake?
Why so tsuntsun sister?
I will now take a moment to explain my process of character creation.

"write what you know".

So pretty much all my characters are my personality traits/flaws, tacked onto a bunch of shit I've dealt with, then exaggerated, twisted, and changed just enough that it isn't obvious. For bonus points, try to guess the base traits of the characters so far!
Yeah....no. None of that nonsense. If I really wanted to progress this further I would've wrote in to give her a massage since she is sooooo stressed.
Just for that you get a 20 MINUTE VOTE CALL
Ooooh, and I know I know I gave pretty descriptive bios, but how does everyone else view the characters so far? anything particularly interesting might just get added to said bios.
>> No patrols? Huh. That's bad. What are we going to do though?

James-Definately apathetic. Strangely obsessed with his sister. Pretty crazy.
Halie- nuerotic? Awkward around physical contact!
Wren-Apathetic maybe? Based off her background. Possibly depressed. Alcoholic.
I have no words for this. I... honestly, I could write a montage, but... it's just going to be scene description after scene description.

I really want to draw the plans to the Mantell House, but... Well, I'll try it tomorrow, and if the results are good, I'll post them in that thread. I also want to draw the insides of the kitchen, because I have everything down to the dust pictured in my head, but hell if I can draw that.

James: Not really apathetic. Based off of my false pride. While that hasn't really shown through since the first thread, you'll see it later when he acts around people he doesn't know

Halie: Anger and Fear. Mostly because one causes the other, but to be honest, I spend most of my day pretending not to be in panic mode.

Wren: Gruff, tough, and no self-esteem. She'll act all tough, but every little comment gets to her. Most of this is coming from when I was a social outcast in school.

Apathy's yet to come. I was thinking about doing a whole, "fight your worst flaw" thing, but that seems cliché

Didn't comment on Doc.Meadows.
HAHAHAHA. I fucked up. Meant Dr.Marches. Wheret the fuck did meadows come from?
I'm imagining James hides his love (familial) for his sister behind this suggestively incestuous veneer. If people think it's purely some weird sexual attraction, they might not try and use her against him.

Halia I'm still not completely sure on. Wren and Meadows even less so.
Yes...draw those plans... So we know all the places we can bang hailie in/over.
Yeah, I realized that as I submitted >>46185660
And I'm not the only one???

Was is Meadows? I'm confused :/
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Are all votes in? Will I give it another few? Should I summon Mr.Carp?
No, it is Marches. I just saw "Meadows" for a fraction of a second and everything fell apart.
Wait...what? Just for confusing me I vote to give Halie a massage to unstress her. i wanna see how far Halie will let us take things
Fuck it, Another ten, so we can all get our feelings together, so the lurkers (if any) show their mugs, so Mr.Carp eats a dorf, and so that I can try to remember what I was just about to type.
You were gonna write a super sensual massage.
You were gonna write a super sweet flashback where James and Halia build a tree house.
>When I was a social outcast at school.

Oh shut up Redem, you weren't an outcast, you made yourself a pariah.
Minion, shut up. AND PUT YOUR NAME ON.

>And if Wren doesn't wake?

> No patrols? Huh. That's bad. What are we going to do though?

"What if Wren doesn't wake?"

"Then we'll bring her with us."

"On our backs?"

"Look, I'll get the logistics of it figured out later. For now, just run with it, ok?"

You start to massage her shoulders.

"And what exactly are a Pirate and a Serving girl going to do exactly? It's not like they'll believe me, and well, I know that they wouldn't bother sending anyone to check it out if they havn't bothered allready."

"That's just you being lazy, asshole." She presses her back into your hands, but continues cutting away at the skin, peeling it back carefully, and with an intesity that could set the house on fire if she's not careful. "And we'd be doing it on the Mantell name. Dad should still have some reputation you didn't ruin. Not to mention, I'll be doing the talking. You'll be getting into the right kind of trouble as usual. Everywhere has an underworld, and you can get involved far too easily."

"Harrfell doesn't"

"You and Wren *are* Harrfell's underworld." She pauses. "You can stop now."

"But I don't wanna!" You stick your tongue out at her.

"Fine, but only because no one else would do it while you were away." She sighs "I've missed this back and forth. I've missed you."

You suddenly feel very guilty. "I missed you too. But you know how I feel about my misadventures.

> Continue to help out until dinner.
> Check in on Wren
> Write in (because I know what you idiots are going to do it anyway)

Is it wierd I feel it's easier to talk to strangers on the internet about myself than most other people?
Also, are people ok with this being a non-combat thread?
Oh, and 15 mins to vote call. (IT MUST BE ON THE HOUR.)
>> Write in (because I know what you idiots are going to do it anyway)
kiss the back of Halies neck Then run away to check on Wren.
It isn't weird my man. For me it's more like I want to tell people about it more then it's easier for me to talk about it. I think some parts of us as human beings wants other people to feel bad for us. The other part gets mad when people feel bad for us. Shit doesn't make sense, I don't pretend to understand what I want. Oh and noncombat is fine.
Holy shit I fucked up that spoiler.
> Continue to help out until dinner.
Or at least for a good while, then check on Wren.

It's actually not weird at all, it's the same thing driving crisis hotlines. It's impersonal and there's no (or very little) feeling of judgment. You don't feel compelled to keep up some kind of façade so it's easier to just let things out.

And non-combat is okay by me.
>Check in on Wren.

I'm not minion. Kill yourself Redem.
But you act *just* like that little ginger pest.
10 On the dot. OCD sated.

But who is the OCD character?
I have to save material for more boss fights!
Female OCD waifu boss?
>Check on Wren
You finish up your sibling bonding, and make your excuses.
"Well, if you've got that down, I'm going to check on Wren"
"If it gets you out of my hair, you do that" Her voice says go fuck yourself with a cactus, but her smile says that she enjoyed your little session.
You move in throught the front door as the sun starts to dip towards the east. Slipping through the main hall over to the stairs lodged in the stonework, and up to the second floor. Sweeping in to your room, you notice that Wren's managed to get tangled in the sheets. Probably a good sign, but the fact that she's curled into a ball and her brow is furrowed, sets a seed of worry in your chest. You move to untangle her, and manage to get the sheets tossed over her form again (she's wearing that silly nightgown that dad got for Halia when she was... what? 15? It's probably the only thing that fits her. It's also pink. You don't think she's ever worn pink) but three's no way to free the pillow from her grip, and frankly you'd feel bad doing so. You return to your writing desk and pick up your quill and ink. The fact that you could write made far too many of your crew mates uncomfortable, but it's serving you well now. The Feind's Delight needs to be raised, and there's a certain Dwarf in a certain military port who makes a tidy profit returning ships to their captains.
When you finish your letter, the sun has come close to setting, and you can smell Halie doing her best to cook her kill, bless her, and you know that it requires your attention. Wren has uncurled slightly and is drooling just a little onto your pillow. She was mumbling while you wrote, but you weren't paying attention, though you are almost sure she called out to you once or twice. You pass the foot of the bed, and slink down the stairs, making sure not to step on the creaking plank, and sneak up on your pre-occupied sister.

"Shhhh, you'll wake the baby"
"Gods damnit James." She's trying to whisper, but she's still loud enough to be heard over the sizzling meat.
You shake your head.
"The meat, it needs salt, and pepper, and maybe a little thyme. The garden's in bloom, go get some, and I'll take care of this."
Your sister "harrumph"s and swans out of the building. You find the salt nigh untouched, and almost one solid clump, and the pepper needs cracking, but you season the meat properly, late though it is, and manage to get the hot stone your sister was cooking on turned down enough that the meat won't be raw in the middle. She can hunt and butcher, but truly your sister can't cook.

Another post to follow.
She Breezes back in and dumps and entire bushel of thyme on the counter.
"Right, now you need to strip the leaves off it. Butter?"
"Here" She reaches under the counter for the pottery jar, and passes it to you,
"No, you're adding the thyme to this. About a quarter of the pot. Your potatoes were too hot, but you'll know they're done when the skins split. Rub the thyme-butter on that."
"And I suppose the carrots were too low?"
"They were, actually."
"I hate you sometimes"
"But you love my cooking."

> "I wrote a letter."
> "Anything you want in Lovellbutts?"
> "More Salt on those potatoes."
20 minutes. Next Story post shall be the last for the night!
> "More Salt on those potatoes."
> "I wrote a letter."
>> "More Salt on those potatoes."
Last post??? Alright. Start guiding her through the cooking like full physical contact. Tease her a bunch while you do it. Don't forget to sneak in a bunch of innocent touches.
> "More Salt on those potatoes."


She sighs "What now?"

"Those potatoes need more salt."

"I see you put salt on everything"

"Not the carrots, the carrots get butter"

"Fine, you put butter on everything."

"Not the steak. The steak gets pepper. Speaking of, stick this on the potatoes" You brush against her arm as you but some cracked pepper on the worktop in front of her, as she finally gets the plates out, and she shivers almost dropping them"

"Seriously? Again?" She looks at you curiously "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Then why are you acting all close?"

"I'm fine!"

"No, you're not."

"I am fine Halie"

"You're not watching the steak, something's up, and you're telling me."

You quickly take the steak off the heat, and drop them by hand onto the waiting plates with a "whap".

"It's nothing."

"You've been distant for two damn days, and then you finally come out of your room, and suddenly your more needy than that time dad went to Crookhaven, and we had the house to ourselves for the month. Now what's wrong?"

You've both sat down, and Halia's about to bite into the venison steak. "I could drop dead at any second. The only way I can possible stop this is by helping out. Redeeming myself for my past."

"There, was that so hard?"

"What? That's it? No "Oh gods, what will we do?", no "I don't want to lose you again?"

"No. You've already set yourself on that path, and I'm not going to let you change it."

There's a bump upstairs followed by a horrified, and muffled "What the fuck am I wearing? Where the fuck am I???"

AAAAAnd that's a wrap!.

Thank you for joining us today. If anyone wants to Archive this, speak in the next 20 minutes, and geddit done.

I invite questions, criticism, and general commentary until then!
UUUH ok. Good run. Next thread when?
NEXT THREAD. TOMMOROW. Because I feel bad about Monday. Let's say at... let's say 5. I can do 5. Check the Twitter then to see if I fucked up the times!

ARCHIVED! Thanks for everything and see you tommorow!
See you tomorrow buddy. INCEST HOOOOO.
It's okay, bud, things just turn to shit sometimes.

Thanks for running, and take care.

Might not be able to attend tomorrow. Schedule's up in the air.
We'll miss you. Nothing major is planned for it, but whatever happens, happens.

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