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When you make it to the room where they're all sleeping, you glance through the window on the door. Mari is sleeping next to Rei who is sleeping next to Shinji, all in separate beds. Satisifed all of them are breathing okay, you head back to the waiting room, where there's a you shaped imprint in the couch you used as a bed.

Running a hand over your face, you note that you need to shave. It's been at least two days without either a shower or a shave, you realize. You probably stink. Putting it aside, for now– you can shave later, you look around the room and note a switchblade stabbed into a coffee table, pinning something to the table. Moving to the table, you pull your Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife from its hiding place in your coat, and read the note underneath the knife.

“Tone it down, Lieutenant. Or we'll bullets in your head and the heads of those close to you.” The hand-writing is neat, nondescript. Much like your own. But it's not yours- the loops on the ends of the 'y' are different than yours. Even more alarming than the note is what's underneath it. A picture of Shinji, taken with a high-power telescopic lens. If someone could get into position to take pictures, they could do worse.

Your blood runs cold, but you know what this is. This is a declaration of war. They might, whoever they were, might not have taken it as such, but no one fucking threatens your so- Shinji. Shinji.

[] It's time to raise a black flag and kick it into the full-tilt boogie.
[] A measured response is best, for right now.

The QM for this quest is a lazy fag who stopped running. Stop trying to trick us.

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>>35464121
>[x] It's time to raise a black flag and kick it into the full-tilt boogie.

>>35464121
>[x] A measured response is best, for right now.

LETS FOOKIN GO M8s

>>35464121
>“Tone it down, Lieutenant. Or we'll bullets in your head and the heads of those close to you.
Uh, tone what down? What exactly have we been doing? I really don't get it

>>35464121
>[] A measured response is best, for right now.

>Or we'll bullets in your head
Too bad Dec can't send an immediate reply to correct this poorly worded letter.

>>35464121
>[] A measured response is best, for right now.


God damnit I really want to
>[] It's time to raise a black flag and kick it into the full-tilt boogie.

But it's pretty stupid to just do that.

>>35464263
>>35464121
This, I'm really confused right now

>>35464121
>“Tone it down, Lieutenant. Or we'll bullets in your head and the heads of those close to you.”
That's not really a good threat.
"Stop doing the thing we never specified or we'll kill everyone on the planet including us."

>

You know what you want to do. You want to run up the black flag, start kicking in doors and water boarding people until you find an answer and someone to hunt down. But if 'they' are telling you to tone it down, ease off the overdrive, chill out, and they're threatening the kids to do so-

You're tempted, briefly. Sense wars with sheer *hate * at the son of a bitch that would use children as cards in a sick game played not for noble stakes, such as the fate of humanity, but far more human wagers- greed and ambition and hate.

But flinging shit and kicking doors is what they expect from you. You're a man of action. You're a doer, a warrior. So they want you to start knocking priceless pottery over. But they don't think you're canny, though. You're canny enough to realize, in one heartbeat, that what you want to do is what they want you to do. And you're scared. Someone was good enough to come into the room where you were sleeping, silently, and leave a knife in a table, again, silently. Without making enough noise to wake you.

So instead you step back from the table, and then pull the knife from the note and photograph. Lifting them both, you carry them to the bathroom where you had gone the other day. Shoving them into a sink, you set the photo and letter on fire with your lighter, letting them burn.

You look in the mirror. You definitely look like you've been a three day bender, and you smell like it.

[] It's quiet enough outside you can find a shower without worrying.
[] Go roust Dick, from the pub, and see if he can help you with this.
[]Write-in

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>>35465375
I am completely lost. I mean, seriously, I'm lost so hard in these woods I don't even know if I'm a tree.

>>35465375
>[x] It's quiet enough outside you can find a shower without worrying.

>>35465375
>[] It's quiet enough outside you can find a shower without worrying.

NAAAAAAAKED DECLAN

>>35465375
>[x] It's quiet enough outside you can find a shower without worrying.

>>35465375
>[x] It's quiet enough outside you can find a shower without worrying.

>

Washing the ashes of the photograph and letter down the drain, you decide that things are calm enough, now, you can scrape the stubble off your face and wash the smoke and alcohol smell off your skin.

The good thing about everything in the Geofront being in the Geofront is that everything's in the Geofront, including your small living space. You still haven't moved all the way out of it, so you should still have a suit or two there, and there's a shower. It's small, granted, but it's probably got hot water this early in the morning.

Moving through the halls, everything looks like you're in a dream- because of your lack of sleep (and a significant decrease of alcohol to grease the wheels of your days,) it's as though you're moving through a haze, only distantly acknowledging the few other people up and about at this hour.

Unlit cigarette still in your mouth, you find your living space largely as you left it- lived in, but neat and tidy, but Spartan. It's the sleeping space of a bachelor, and a lonely one at that. There are no pictures of women on the dresser, only photographs of (in your opinion,) better days. You were young and happy and the best of the best. Feeling overcome with nostalgia, you strip and head for the shower.

A quick shower and shave, and you're dressing in another nondescript black suit. You feel human, again, and you can think clearly. Now you need to go...

[] Check on the kids again.
[] Call Johann and see if he's anywhere near. You might need another gun, that isn't on the NERV payroll.
[] Write-in.

>>35466438
>[] Call Johann and see if he's anywhere near. You might need another gun, that isn't on the NERV payroll.

>>35466438
>[] Check on the kids again

>>35466438

[] Check on the kids again.
[] Call Johann and see if he's anywhere near. You might need another gun, that isn't on the NERV payroll.

>>35466438
>[] Check on the kids again.

>>35466627
We can do both no problem. Second.

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[X] Call Johann and see if he's anywhere near. You might need another gun, that isn't on the NERV payroll.
[X] Check on the kids again.

In that order.

In case it wasn't clear, I'm pretty sure the note meant "stop trying to interfere in anti-Angel operations for the sake of the kids, or we'll just kill you AND them because fuck you."

I.E. NERV considers the children expendable enough that they're fucking annoyed by Dec impeding anti-Angel operations for their sake.

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we am best at protechtan the childrens

>>35466438
>[] Call Johann and see if he's anywhere near. You might need another gun, that isn't on the NERV payroll.

>>35466903
And in their place to fight the Angels and save them all from being tanged will be what again?

>>35466903
What if the message is from this quest's equivalent of EXALT?

>>35467341
Then EXALTED is going to have to do a crossover when Dec comes over and fucks his MC's shit

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>

Shrugging a clean coat on, you make sure your pistol and badge are covered, and then head back to the hospital. You pull your cell from your pocket, and dial one of the few men you know crazy enough to aid you in throwing your considerably light weight against an unknown shadow organization with skilled enough men to sneak into *your * room.

“Ja, das ist Johann. Wer ist das?”

“Declan, Johann. What time is it in Germany?”

“Not in Germany,” he slurs- he sounds extremely drunk, and if he's not in Germany, where is he? “I'm in C- China,” he hiccups. “Got rolled by a prostitute,” he explains, as if you had asked. “Figured might as well get HAMMERED again,” and you can almost see his shit-eating grin.

“Sober up,” you tell him quietly as you move through the silent halls. “I need you in Tokyo-3 by tomorrow.”

“Is this a favor, Declan, or what are we talking...?” He sounds, if not completely sober, less drunk than before.

“I need help,” you say quietly. “There's forces here that aren't- I'm up against someone better than me,” you admit. It pains you to say so, but only fools underestimate their opponents, as you had tried to tell Asuka not even twenty-four hours ago.

“I will be there,” he promises, and you wonder why he'd be willing to drop a bender in China, probably Beijing or Hong Kong, to help you. “I have a woman waiting for me back in bed, Declan. I will be there by this evening, sober and smelling of roses your mother. Good morning.” He hangs up, and so do you.

When you make it back to the hospital waiting room, it's still empty. Moving through to the actual room itself, you find the kids still sleeping, but Shinji stirring uneasily.

[] Go comfort him.
[] See if you can't look up those vicious coonass Ranger brothers you knew a few years ago.
[] Write-in

>>35467498
>[x] See if you can't look up those vicious coonass Ranger brothers you knew a few years ago
Get our A team going.

>>35467498
>[] Go comfort him.
Yes.... "Comfort" him

>>35467498
[] Go comfort him.
I still have no idea what's going on

>>35467498
[] Go comfort him.

>>35467498
>[x] Go comfort him.

>>35467585
NO!

SHINJI FOR KILLING ANGELS!

SHINJI NOT FOR LEWDS!

BAKA!

>>35467498
>>35467638

>[] See if you can't look up those vicious coonass Ranger brothers you knew a few years ago.
ack. I picked the wrong one.

>>35467107

Replacements. We know they crank out Rei clones; who's to say they don't have Shinji and Mari clones in tubes as we speak?

>>35467691
Why don't they do that already then?

>>35467691
Mainly the fact that Rei is a special case, and is most likely due to her angel heritage that she can be respawned, rather than simply being cloned.

Besides, the whole "Mother's soul" crap with the Evangelions would also be thrown out of the window, since the Rei's didn't share souls

>>35467732

Why bother, when the originals haven't broken yet?

NERV are some cold motherfuckers.

>>35467691
Because mind state uploading and the fact that they have a method that recalls Rei's soul when she dies, because you kind of need that to work the AT field.

>>35467797
Shinji breaks every ten minutes, Mari has shown to be completely incompetent in battle, and Asuka is a bitch.
If they could shell out money for Rei-clones that worked for every EVA they would, because they'd be able to rape every angel if they did.

>>35467732
"We'll kill the kids and replace them secretly with clones of the kids that have their exact memories without anyone noticing! That'll show that upstart section 2 agent that we hired and pay! Mwahahahaha!

>>35467862
This is NERV, so this is likely their plan...

Dead thread?

>>35468453
It hasn't even been an hour.

>>35468464
I last checked at 0530, it's now 06:10 and no change, I'll wait for your hour then call dead fish.

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>>35468483
>Calling dead fish at an hour

>>35468530
maybe he's new to quests?

>

Understanding and empathizing with bad dreams, you move silently into the room, and move next to Shinji's bed. Sitting down beside him lightly, you pat him on the arm once. He settles, some, and you stand once more. Watching them sleep would be odd, so you settle for sitting in a chair outside the room. Using your phone's internet application, you look up the coonass brothers from the 75th Ranger Regiment, Daniel and James Thibodeaux.

They're running a successful boat and bait business in South Louisiana, now. You shoot them an email telling them who you are and asking if one of them can phone you in their morning. If someone could get close enough to you to leave that note, you don't want to think about how close they could have gotten to the kids. Taking a round from one of your extra magazines, you slowly roll it between your fingers.

You stay like that for a while, examining the armor-piercing nine millimeter. You have hollow-points loaded in the magazine in your pistol right now, but with five extra magazines, you've got two more armor-piercing and three hollow-point loaded magazines. Such a tiny instrument, you reflect. So capable of ending human life, something Father O'Bain had always said was holy and sacred. Swallowing, you slip the cartridge back into the magazine and stand.

A glance at your watch puts the hour at nearly seven in the morning- the dawn slipped by you, unnoticed. This must be what it's like to get old, you reflect. Just moving along like normal and then suddenly time has slipped past you. You don't like it, you find. Grimacing, you turn to go find a cup of coffee when a nurse walks in and stops when she sees you.

“No one is supposed to be back here,” she says quietly, so as to not wake the Children, you'd assume.

“I'm Section Two,” you explain.

“Still,” she tells you. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

[] “Of course. My apologies.”
[] “You're asking, not telling.”
[]Write-in.

>>35468690
>[]Write-in.
she is an actual nurse right and not a spy?

>>35468728
Yeah. She's definitely a nurse, she changed your bedpan once.

>>35468690
>[] “You're asking, not telling.

>>35468690
>[x]Write-in.
>It's my job to protect them when they are vulnerable. What kind of guard would I be if I just abandoned them when there was no-one else around?

[X] I'm security. The kids are too valuble to the world to risk.

Cross arms. Deadpan stare.

>>35468943
this is good

>

“Look, Nurse,” you begin. “I'm security. My job is to PROTECT the kids. I would never hurt them.”

“Like you did such a great job protecting them the other day, right?” And suddenly confronted with a nurse just doing her job, you stop short. She's right. You didn't protect them. You gave them your blessing to go into battle, and then, when faced with the enemy, they did their best. And came up short.

Kids that are struggling to figure out who they are because of puberty, a Hell of a time under normal circumstances, forced into a struggle to save the human race. A dim part of you suspects the human race doesn't *fucking * deserve it. You know you don't. And this nurse's self-fucking-righteousness pisses you off.

“You're right,” you begin quietly. “I did a shit job and I hate myself for it, because I can't go out there and do what they do for them, like they do for me. But you can keep making noise at me, because I don't see you getting shot at, or you can try to evict me. Whistle up those rent-a-cops from Section One, we'll see how far they get.”

[] “And bring some gurneys.”
[] Cross your arms and give her an empty gaze.
[] Write-in.

>>35469417
>[] “And bring some gurneys.”

>>35469417
>[x] Cross your arms and give her an empty gaze.

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>>35469417
>[X] Cross your arms and give her an empty gaze.

This says the most. We're not rattling our saber - a tough old nurse won't be intimidated by that. We're not full of bullshit or bluster. We're not trying to take our anger out on someone by being difficult.

We're just making a blunt statement of how things are gonna be. We're not moving, she's not gonna convince us, so she may as well whistle for the rent-a-cops now.

>>35469417
>[] Cross your arms and give her an empty gaze.

>

Silently, you cross your arms over your chest. She copies your action, and you give her a dead look, as though you've been awake for too many days. She calls your bluff. The nurse buzzes for Section One, the internal rent-a-cops. They shuffle in, four of them, in brown uniforms and wearing gunbelts and handcuffs, with batons and stun guns on as well

“Oh Christ,” the first one, a retired military policeman, says. “It's Cryan.”

“Yes,” you say cheerfully. “It's me.” The four of them spread out into a rough semi-circle, as though they'd practiced this, and then as one they draw their batons and cuffs. “Let's keep it quiet, gentlemen. Patients are sleeping.”

“Fine,” the first says, now in front of you. “Try not to scream like a girl and piss yourself when we tase you, bro.”The one on your far right lunges at you with the baton, and you catch his arm and shove him at the one that called you out. They go backwards, and you step back, as the one on your left and the last guy on the right move on you.

The one that called you out goes for his stun gun, and you step behind a door as he closes, blocking him. Picking up a chair, you know that one has to be edging around, the bravest of the bunch, trying to get you with the stun gun. Coming around the corner with the chair, you slam it into his side, sending him sprawling, and tackle another, knocking the stun gun out of his hand. Slamming your forehead into his nose, he falls back and doesn't try to get up.

Rolling your shoulders, you stand back up and look at the two remaining Section One men.

[] “Want to keep trying?”
[] “Go lick your wounds, guys. Come back another day.”
[] Write-in

>>35470312
>"Wanna help me protect the kids? That's why I'm here, after all."

>>35470312
>[] “Go lick your wounds, guys. Come back another day.”
"Just let it go. More of this BS means more paperwork for everybody."

>>35470312
>[] “Go lick your wounds, guys. Come back another day.”

>>35470382
this

>>35470312
>“Go lick your wounds, guys. Come back another day.”

Oh wow getting tired here guys maybe running after work wasn't such a bright idea

KEEP GOING OR NO?

If not, I'll finish this with one last story post, and then we'll pick up next Friday at 5 PM EST.

>>35470583
Get some rest, tangbro.

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>>35470583

GET SOME REST NEGRO.

[X] “Go lick your wounds, guys. Come back another day.”

LISTEN TO THE WOMAN MPS CALM DOWN JUST CALM DOWN

CALM DOWN JUST CALM DOWN

>>35470583
Sure

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OKAY we will continue next Friday at 5PM EST fo' sho'. Thanks for playing and good night, guys.>

“Go lick your wounds, guys. Come back another day. Don't push this. Don't generate more paperwork for everyone.” The two left standing exchange looks, and then sigh.

“You might have won today, you Irish bastard, but the long arm of the law will get you one day.” They lean down and begin carrying their not badly hurt at all comrades off, probably to ice their hurts and eat doughnuts, and you revel in a victory solidly won.

“So now that you've proven absolutely nothing, do you mind leaving? They'll be waking up soon and I don't want you exciting them.” The nurse is still there, and entirely unimpressed by your antics. Shrugging, when she phrased it like that...

“All right, I suppose. I'll be back, though.”

“I'm sure you will,” she sighs. You move back to the waiting room and settle in to wait once more, feeling all the while like a caged tiger, and the one in your head roaring for a drink. Ignoring it, for now, you stake a claim on your couch once more, propping your feet up on a coffee table and opening one of the provided magazines: Soldier of Fortune.

>>35470878
sleep tight

>>35470878
>Fortune
>Declan
B-But you can only pick one