>>40565584

It’s a good plan, you guess. And unlike Rowan and a lot of your other friends, he won’t be leaving the city anytime soon.

You find a spot to park your bike, and head up. You’re really unannounced, but hopefully he’s home. It’s not like he’s anywhere fun – if that was the case, he’d drop you a line. So... he’s most probably home.

You’re trekking up the hallway when a big guy with an undercut and attitude spots you, coming the opposite direction. He takes special notice of your messy hair and ultimate enchanted hoodie. “You’re Crow’s girlfriend, right?” he asks.

You falter in your resolve to hunt down Wolfgang. “Uh. Yeah, who’s asking?”

“I mean, I heard things. But it’s cool,” he says. “You’re just not the usual type of girl Crowther goes for.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Usual type of girl? What the hell’s that supposed to mean? (+2 Stress: 32)

>Things? What things?
>Mind your own fucking business.
>And what is the ‘usual type of girl’ Crowther goes for? Like. Blonde?
>Are you calling me fat?
>The more you know. (Walk off.)
>Other (?)

>>40565591
>>Are you calling me fat?
>>The more you know. (Walk off.)

>>40565591
>The more you know. (Walk off.)

>>40565591
>>And what is the ‘usual type of girl’ Crowther goes for? Like. Blonde?
>>Are you calling me fat?

Woohoo! Hellborn Quest!

>>40565591
>Other
"I'm sorry, who the fuck are you?"

>>40565591
>Other
Say nothing and give him a long, flat stare.

>>40565591
>Mind your own fucking business.

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>>40565591
>Other (?)
Well maybe he finally saw the light.
Nice meeting you, bub this is sarcasm.

>>40565591
>Are you calling me fat?
Pfffffff I love this

>>40565591
>Things? What things?

Are we really going to do the "are you calling me fat?" thing every time? I'm sure y'all can come up with something better than that.

>>40565795
no it's like an insult to the girls he normally dates this time.

>>40565591
>Things? What things?

Unfortunately, I have to mysteriously vanish for the next hour.

>>40565591
>And what is the ‘usual type of girl’ Crowther goes for? Like. Blonde?

>>40565836
Off to murder someone I bet.

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>>40565836

>>40565591
>And what is the 'usual type of girl' Crowther goes for? Like, blonde?"

>>40565836
Eh, good enough excuse as any for me to go to bed early

>>40565591
>Are you calling me fat?
>Things? What things?

>>40565851
Serial killers, man. Not even once.

>11 people here who aren't Languid
>13 votes on the first choice
Classy.

>>40565948
Sounds like something Rowan-shippers would do

>>40565938
not even if they're hot?

>>40565948
My vote was my first post but it isn't indicated as a new unique IP. Pretty strange.

>>40565994
RowXRan

>>40566019
At least it's not as bad as Sierra/Rowan

>>40566014
Either you're in a university or apartment or something where someone else is also playing this quest or you're just lying.

>>40565994
>>40566019
Don't fucking start. It doesn't have to turn into retard shitpost hour every time Languid leaves.

>>40565836

Might be more like two hours. I didn't choose this future, it chose me.

>>40565997
Maybe once if they're hot.

>>40566044
Not shit posting, I like This quest too much to do that.

>>40566061
Okay, thanks for the heads up
OH GOD HES FOUND ANOTHER VICTIM!

>>40566064
Ah yesh

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>>40566061
O-ok.

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>>40566061

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Who do you see whenever you're picturing Sierra in your head? I always think of the crazy bitch from Sick Girl.

So... what are our odds on getting wings after this vacation?
I've got a bad feeling that we aren't going to get wings until we freak out and wake up kneeling in ashes and bodies or something.
But surely Languid wouldn't be so cruel, right?

>>40566167
I'm hoping that the shadow tentacles get an upgrade that lets them be used as wings. That'd be cool.
But really I just wanna buff up the Shadow Self as much as possible. More shadow! Bigger shadow!

>>40566157
fuck that does look like her.

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>>40566167
>mfw we don't get wings

>>40566212
She's also completely bugfuck insane. She let the SAN drop to <20.

>>40565591
>"Oh, great, it's THAT bitch spreading rumors again. What a cunt."

>>40566167
>we don't get wings
>we learn how to fly by shooting fire out of our hands and feet like some kind of demon Iron Man

>>40566261
YES!

>Sorry but I love Rowan

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>>40566157
Another good question is what does Demon Sierra look like?

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>>40566384
Probably something like this

>>40566411
>MURIKA FUCK YEAH

>>40566411
damn, her abs area is fucking tiny

>>40566627
Languid has this weird habit of drawing everything very 1950s calendery when he's not doing a cartoony pseudochibi thing.
I'd say that's less about "she looks just like this" and more "Languid puts in a good effort, but he's not exactly a world class artist or anything"

>>40566061
Enjoying that booty call?

>>40566669
>1950s calendery

The word you're looking for is 'pinup'

>>40566690
Well duh, Languid is Wolfgang and his girlfriend just showed up.

>>40566690
>>40566744
>implying he isn't murdering some hooker right now

>>40566775
Forced meme is forced

>>40566804
Your face is a meme!

>>40566839
I wish

>>40566775
please Languid is a high class serial killer, He won't stoop to killing hookers.

>>40566850
Languid is just a meme QM

Completely unrelated to anything right now, but I ran across an Egyptian goddess with a name somewhat like 'Sakheris' and with traits that certainly sound like an Imperiate

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sekhmet

"Sekhmet's name comes from the Ancient Egyptian word "sekhem" which means "power or might". Sekhmet's name suits her function and means "the (one who is) powerful". She also was given titles such as the "(One) Before Whom Evil Trembles", "Mistress of Dread", "Lady of Slaughter" and "She Who Mauls".

"In a myth about the end of Ra's rule on the earth, Ra sends Hathor or Sekhmet to destroy mortals who conspired against him. In the myth, Sekhmet's blood-lust was not quelled at the end of battle and led to her destroying almost all of humanity, so Ra poured out beer dyed with red ochre or hematite so that it resembled blood. Mistaking the beer for blood, she became so drunk that she gave up the slaughter and returned peacefully to Ra."

>>40567083
>so Ra poured out beer dyed with red ochre or hematite so that it resembled blood. Mistaking the beer for blood, she became so drunk that she gave up the slaughter and returned peacefully to Ra.

Holy shit, that's how we'll get Wolfgang to calm her down when she goes into a bloodrage

I'm back.

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>>40567255

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>>40567255

>>40567255
praise be unto him

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>>40567255

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>>40567255

>>40567303
>>40567315
The jiggles match the wiggles.

...this pleases me.

You give him a long, flat stare. “You calling me fat?” you ask.

The guy is taken off guard. “What? No,” he says. Ugh. He can’t take a joke either. “You’re just different than I expected.”

“Yeah, I don’t fucking care,” you finally determine. You walk away without looking back. You smirk to yourself as you round the corner, feeling pretty impressed with yourself. You’re pretty badass sometimes. (-4 Stress: 28)

Anyway, you get to Wolfgang’s door. You’d be able to tell with your eyes closed, though. There’s no hiding that tinge of aftershave and fancy Scottish sea mist cologne or whatever it’s supposed to be. Also, there’s some fancy sigil magic on the door. It’s supposed to ward off evil or something like that, but it’s never stopped you from slipping in – like right now. (-2 PP: 39)

You’re in. The entryway is disgustingly clear of any and all shoes, even though you know Wolf’s got at least twice as many as you. And then there’s the super slick wood coat rack thing with the in-joke silk top hat hung precariously on the top.

But other than that, everything’s really clean – the walls are bare, save for a couple framed pictures, you can smell the freshness of the vacuumed carpet, and there’s no discarded clothing in sight – in short, pretty much the opposite of your room. Though this isn’t really a room so much as it is an apartment.

It’s super quiet. Like. So quiet, you can hear the muffled mumbling of audio from Wolfgang’s headphones. Sounds like he’s at his desk, doing deskly stuff.

If you play your cards right, you might be able to legitimately scare the crap out of him.

-Route-
>Direct. Just be really, really quiet. He’s on his headphones, so it won’t be a problem.
>Suspense. Slowly turn off all the lights in the apartment before the reveal.
>Utilize superior cornering ability – go through the wall into the kitchen, and try to flank him from a low angle.
>Extra direct. Knock on the door from the inside.
>Other (?)

>>40567497
>>Utilize superior cornering ability – go through the wall into the kitchen, and try to flank him from a low angle.

>>40567497
>Extra direct. Knock on the door from the inside.

>>40567497
>Extra direct. Knock on the door from the inside.

>>40567497
>Direct. Just be really, really quiet. He’s on his headphones, so it won’t be a problem.

>>40567497

>Utilize superior cornering ability – go through the wall into the kitchen, and try to flank him from a low angle.
>Extra direct. Knock on the door from the inside.

Knock then bolt to a corner, wait until he gets up to see who knocked, then slip into the chair.

>>40567497
>Direct. Just be really, really quiet. He’s on his headphones, so it won’t be a problem.

So, anyone else have a bad feeling? My paranoia is acting up.

>>40567543
>>40567543
this

>>40567497
>Utilize superior cornering ability – go through the wall into the kitchen, and try to flank him from a low angle.

>>40567497
>put the top hat on him

>>40567497
>Suspense.

>>40567543
This

You debate what to do for a second, and then come up with the perfect plan. You knock on the door, and then slip aside into the kitchen, ducking and rolling under the wall and winding up in front of the fridge. (-2 PP: 37)

It doesn’t take long to work. You hear Wolfgang get up and walk toward the door. When you feel his presence solidly on the other side of the wall, you scramble-sneak into his room, and jump in his chair. You hear him open the door, probably looking around for who dropped by.

You use the time to put his headphones on your own ears, and pretend like you’re typing at his computer. He’s just answering emails or something. You guess his school’s been out a while, but it looks like the people at his dad’s work actually expect him to keep up to date on things. You realize this might be Crowther kind of pushing the whole ‘apprenticeship’ thing, since that’s kind of more how they do it down in hell.

Wolfgang comes back in, and you feel his brief shock of surprise on seeing somebody in his chair. “Jesus,” he says.

You turn around to catch his expression. He still looks a little startled, though it’s more amused now. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans with a button-down plaid shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the top button undone for practical reasons.

>>40567852

“All right,” he admits. “You got me that time.” Sometimes you don’t get him as much, but a lot of times you do. It’s nice having somebody you can scare a little bit. (-2 Stress: 26)

>Eh. I get you every time. You can’t hide it from me.
>Excuse me, I’m really busy answering these emails and stuff, could you go bother somebody else?
>Just thought I’d drop by, you know, since I’m headed out tomorrow. Mind if I hang out for a while?
>We need to get started on getting our relationship quota stocked up for the next couple weeks.
>I’m here to kidnap you from work or whatever. Get your shoes on.
> You got a lot of weirdos around here. I ran into somebody who got all up in my grill about why we were going out.
>Other (?)

>>40567879
>>Excuse me, I’m really busy answering these emails and stuff, could you go bother somebody else?
Cheeky, shit eating grin
Then
>Just thought I’d drop by, you know, since I’m headed out tomorrow. Mind if I hang out for a while?

>>40567879
>Eh. I get you every time. You can’t hide it from me.
>Excuse me, I’m really busy answering these emails and stuff, could you go bother somebody else?
>Just thought I’d drop by, you know, since I’m headed out tomorrow. Mind if I hang out for a while?

>>40567879
>Just thought I’d drop by, you know, since I’m headed out tomorrow. Mind if I hang out for a while?

>>40567879

>Just thought I’d drop by, you know, since I’m headed out tomorrow. Mind if I hang out for a while?
>We need to get started on getting our relationship quota stocked up for the next couple weeks.

Then after satisfactory macks

> You got a lot of weirdos around here. I ran into somebody who got all up in my grill about why we were going out.

>>40567879
>>Excuse me, I’m really busy answering these emails and stuff, could you go bother somebody else?

>>40567852
>We need to get started on getting our relationship quota stocked up for the next couple weeks.
>I’m here to kidnap you from work or whatever. Get your shoes on.
> You got a lot of weirdos around here. I ran into somebody who got all up in my grill about why we were going out.

>>40567879
>Excuse me, I’m really busy answering these emails and stuff, could you go bother somebody else?
Heh.
This is full sierra mode.

>>40567879
>Excuse me, I’m really busy answering these emails and stuff, could you go bother somebody else?
>We need to get started on getting our relationship quota stocked up for the next couple weeks.

“Uh. Excuse me?” you ask, annoyed. “I’m really busy answering all these emails and stuff, could you like, go bother somebody else?”

Wolfgang grabs the sides of his head and groans. “You’re killing me here,” he cries.

You snicker at his predicament. “Okay okay,” you say, removing the earphones and relinquishing his chair.

“Let me finish one thing,” he says, sitting down and continuing the thing he was typing before.

You take up a spot on the floor, leaning back against the side of the bed, watching Wolfgang frantically attempt to finish the message whilst distracted. He doesn’t say it, but you’re pretty sure he never actually gets any work done when you’re mucking around. From an academic standpoint, homework hangouts with Wolf are complete disasters. Fortunately, academics aren’t really the point of pestering Wolf.

“Just thought I’d drop by,” you say, “you know, since I’m headed out tomorrow.” You almost tell him you thought about kidnapping him along, but seems kind of silly now you’re thinking about it.

“The great American journey,” Wolfgang notes, unable to get his train of thought back onto boring email stuff.

“Yeah,” you say. “Mind if I hang for a while?”

“Not at all,” he says. “I was thinking about calling, but then I thought you’d be tired from packing or trying to get to sleep early.”

>>40568411

But he is still distracted by pressing demands. “It’s all right. Finish your thing,” you say, nodding at his computer.

“Just give me one minute,” he says, turning his whole attention to words words words.

You get up and take the apartment tour, though there’s not much to see. A little one of Maviel’s oil paintings is on Wolf’s nightstand. The view depicts a city street in San Francisco, but all the colors are completely weird, and shapes don’t seem to quite meet up in the way they should - Maviel’s modus operandi. You suspect the central figure is Wolfgang, gazing pensively down the street, back toward you.

And then you check out the fridge. Eggs, milk, sour cream, and importantly, bacon and tomatoes. You could totally make BLTs. Or.... You glance at the closet by the entryway. The door’s slightly ajar, and you can see some boxes in there. You feel a seepage of power from them. But maybe you shouldn’t snoop. Maybe you can just investigate paranormal crap on your phone.

>Surf the web on your phone till Wolf writes his last dumb email.
>BLT time.
>Check out Wolf’s closet secrets.
>Eh. Wolfgang can multitask this one time. Go chat.
>Go write on the bathroom mirror with toothpaste, with pictures as necessary.
>Other (?)

>>40568444
>Go write on the bathroom mirror with toothpaste, with pictures as necessary.

What? Let's do this but what?

>>40568444
>BLT time.

>>40568444
>BLT time.
If there's time.
>Go write on the bathroom mirror with toothpaste, with pictures as necessary.

>>40568444
>BLT time.

>>40568444
>BLT time.

>>40568444
>>BLT time.

>>40568444
>>BLT time.

>>40568444
>BLT time.
then
>Surf the web on your phone till Wolf writes his last dumb email.

>>40568444
>>BLT time.

>>40568444
>BLT time.

>>40568444
Just ask him about it. Use your words, Sierra

>>40568671
"Words are for sissy court-rat faggots who can't set things on fire with their brains."

You get a lot of thoughts on doing things that might not be the best idea, so you choose to choose the least of the evils and occupy yourself with making BLTs. Because they’re freaking easy, and extra delicious.

“Wolf, I’m going to steal all your bacon,” you say.

“What?” he asks from the next room over.

“You’ll see,” you reply.

You wash your claws, then slice up the tomatoes in short order, getting the toaster bread chain rolling. You use your shadow you get the bacon in a pan, then hold it in your claws and do a little home cooking till things start crackling and whatever. (-3 PP: 34) You tilt the pan around in hand, maneuvering the bacons until they get extra crispy. Then you maybe accidentally eat one. But the survivors make it to sandwich stage.

The smell of crispy ham saturates the air, each breath more delicious than the last. Good.

Finally, once you get enough bread ready, you serve up a couple BLTs, dumping lettuce on there to top it off, and mayo up the whole apparatus on both yours and Wolf’s. But you like mayo, so you make sure you really get it on there. Sweet, sweet calories.

You’re rinsing off your claws when Wolfgang steps into the kitchen. “I should have suspected,” he says, noting the sandwiches.

“If you’ve got the B, L, and T in the same place when I’m around, you know what happens,” you say. BLTs is what happens.

>>40568946

He grins as you hand him a plate. “The BLT catalyst strikes again,” he says. He jerks a thumb toward his dinky little dining table with its three chairs. “Let’s sit down.”

One round of BLTs later, life is good. Nothing like good food with good people.

Wolf finishes his sandwich, and snaps up a bit of mayo left on one his knuckles with his tongue. You finished yours way before him, though that’s not a big surprise.

“You’re so slow,” you say, as you migrate back to the main room and sit down by the bed, grabbing a pillow to comfortize your seat.

“I can only do so much,” Wolf replies. He retreives his laptop from his desk, and settles down beside you, well within range of your hand-grapple. He looks intently at you, smiling just slightly. “So, hanging out, huh? I have the new Game of Thrones ready to go on my computer, if you haven’t seen it yet.”

While that might be fun, you’re not sure if that’s the kind of feeling you’re feeling. You’ve got Wolfgang all to yourself, and you kind of wanted this to be a kind of a goodbye thing, not a regular thing. But what happens to the remaining Starks next? Geeze. Much decision.

>Say stuff (?)
>Plans (?)
>Other (?)

Does violence get Sierra hot? If so, Game of Thrones is basically straight up porn with a lot of extra plot.

>>40568969
i doubt were ready to go all the way

>>40568989
Yes.

>>40568969
>"if you take your face off, I'll take my shirt off"

>>40568969
Guys
If she's about to watch the red wedding

It's the perfect chance to say I hope our wedding doesn't go like that without thinking about it

>>40568969

>slowly close the laptop
>mack like mad

>>40568969
Put on something cheesy and romantic instead

>>40568969
how come when where together all i want to do is wreck you?

>>40569003
This is dumb, but I do like that line. And we do need to see him with his face off...

>>40568969
Pounce on the wolfgang

>>40568969
Ask what he wants to do

>>40569003
Thirding.

>>40569003
We did say we wanted to push boundaries like that the next time we were alone with him, after he walked in on us using blood magic.

>>40568969
Ask what's in the boxes

>>40568969
>Plans (?)
>Don't watch GoT. Grapple his hand, cuddle closer.
>Have a slightly serious talk about missing him while we're gone, then stake our claim and make sure he knows he's ours.
>Acquire snek tongue, and skinless makeouts.

While Game of Thrones is good, you’re not here for Game of Thrones.

You reach out for Wolfgang’s laptop, and slowly close it. And then you let go of Wolf’s hand and sit up a bit, so you’re sitting on your knees. And then you proceed to stare at Wolfgang.

“You’re getting one of those looks,” he comments. “What’s on that mind of yours?”

There are lots of things on your mind, but they all have to do with one person. “You’re always wearing these shirts,” you say, reaching out and lightly tracing a claw down Wolfgang’s throat to the top button. “You know. With buttons.”

He swallows. “This is true,” he says.

Experimentally, you take the button in your fingers and slip it out of its home. A little bit more of his throat comes into view than before, just peeking out from within. “How come when we’re together all I want to do is inhale your stupid face?” you ask, glancing up at the stupid face in question.

Wolfgang meets your eyes. “Sierra, you are perfect,” he says, completely normal.

You find yourself knocking him over, pressing your mouth to his as much as possible. You try to keep your claws and tail out of the way, and you try not to bite his tongue, and you try not to burst into flames. It’s a lot of effort. (+5 Stress: 31) You have to take a breather after a minute, finding yourself on top of Wolfgang, his hair kind of messed up from you weaving your shadow through it.

Your heart hammers in your ears and chest.

Wolf sits up slightly, raising a calming hand toward you. “Slow down,” he says coolly. But there is definitely nothing cool about the burning vibes radiating from him – it’s a potent overpressure, impossible to miss. “It’s just your trip. You’re a little on edge is all.”

>>40569455

Maybe he’s right. But that doesn’t fix the unsatisfied fire within you. Looking at Wolf, feeling him under you, it makes you want more.

But Wolfgang’s expression speaks for itself, and the two of you part for a second, sitting up on the edge of the bed, sitting very close to each other. You lean against him, thinking this through a little more now the fiery fog has cleared. Kind of. You wrap an arm around his arm to keep him in place.

>Maybe get around behind him a back massage or something.
>Stay right where you are. Chill out. Take a deep breath.
>Nothing wrong with making out a little bit more.
>It kind of sucks I won't see you while I'm on the road.
>Is there some fire proof spell you can cast?
>Other (?)

>>40569468
>Is there some fire proof spell you can cast?
>Stay right where you are. Chill out. Take a deep breath.

>>40569468
>Maybe get around behind him a back massage or something.

>>40569468
>Maybe get around behind him a back massage or something.

should read

>Maybe get around behind him and give him a back massage or something.

>>40569468
>Stay right where you are. Chill out. Take a deep breath.
......
>Is there some fire proof spell you can cast?

>>40569468
>Stay right where you are. Chill out. Take a deep breath.

>>40569509
then wreck him

>>40569468
>Stay right where you are. Chill out. Take a deep breath.

>>40569468
>Stay right where you are. Chill out. Take a deep breath.
>It kind of sucks I won't see you while I'm on the road.

>>40569468
>Maybe get around behind him a back massage or something.
>It kind of sucks I won't see you while I'm on the road.
>Is there some fire proof spell you can cast?

>>40569468
>Is there some fire proof spell you can cast?
>Explain how we're taking him with us in a suitcase.
>Is there some fire proof spell you can cast?

>>40569468
>Maybe get around behind him and give him a back massage or something.
>It kind of sucks I won't see you while I'm on the road.
>Is there some fire proof spell you can cast?

You exhale, allowing the pent up fit of who knows what to unwind a little. You and Wolfgang just sit there for a while, not making a sound. (-2 Stress: 29)

You’re first to break the silence, and you do so with an obvious question. “Do you have like. A fire proof spell you can cast?” you ask.

Wolfgang’s brow creases slightly. “I have one in development,” he says. He almost sounds... embarrassed?

He’s thought about this more than you have. You feel heat rise to your cheeks, and you’re glad Wolfgang’s not quite looking at you. (+1 Stress: 30) But you are glad that he’s with you. Or that you’re with him. You don’t really get the semantics, but you’re glad anyway.

You thought going on cool adventures would be cool, but it’s not so cool not having your cool boyfriend with you. “Sucks I won't see you while I'm on the road,” you say.

“Sucks my girlfriend’s ditching me for a freeway,” Wolf replies. He chuckles, and you can feel the rumble of it through his shoulder. “I’m joking. You’ll be back before you know it. Don’t waste time missing me.”

“Quit being so chill,” you say, squeezing his arm a little tighter.

Wolfgang goes quiet for a second.

“If you really want to know,” he says quietly, “I hate that for the next couple weeks I won’t have to think twice about answering a knock at the door.” He smiles a little bit, and continues. “I hate that walking home on a dark night will be boring. I won’t have my own creature of darkness stalker trying to scare the shit out of me at every available opportunity, and I hate it.”

>>40569889
>I won’t have my own creature of darkness stalker trying to scare the shit out of me at every available opportunity, and I hate it.”
Awww

>>40569889

“Good,” you say, vaguely satisfied with the idea of him being unhappy. (-3 Stress: 27) You sense Wolfgang wants to say something else, but is holding it back. Eventually you can’t let it slide anymore. “What?” you ask.

“I know you wanted this to be a goodbye,” says Wolfgang, his tone hesitant. “And... well, I wanted to try something a little different . Something that wasn’t you inhaling my face or holding my hand or giving me backrubs. Something for you.”

>Okay?
>Don’t tell me. You have some precious magic stone or something?
>Kinky.
>Nah. I’m okay like this if you are.
>But I like doing that stuff. I thought you did too?
>Maybe we’ve pressed the action enough for one night.
>Other (?)

>>40569919
>>Okay?

>>40569919
>Okay?

>>40569919
>Okay?
>Kinky.

>>40569919
>>Okay?

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>>40569919
>Okay?
Oh Wolfgang, what ever do you have in mind?

>>40569919
>Okay?
>Other: "Is this the part where you do something that's going to make me miss you way more?"

>>40569919
>Okay?
>>Don’t tell me. You have some precious magic stone or something?
>>Kinky.

>>40569919
>Kinky.

>>40569919
>Kinky.

>>40569919
>Kinky

“Okay?” you answer. You can’t find reason to disagree when he’s being so vague. And when he’s guilt-tripping himself. Like, just because you happen to really like doing the whole kissing thing doesn’t mean you’re only doing it for him. There’s definitely a lot going into that for you, too. “I mean. If it’s something way kinky, you know, we’re kind of demons already, so that’s kind of already the top of the hill.”

Wolfgang snorts. “All right. But you have to trust me on this one,” he directs.

You sit up a little and look at him with curiosity. He’s acting kind of weird. And you can feel the tension in him. But if you’re talking about trust, Wolfgang’s got a few points he can cash in. “Trust is a go,” you say, steeling yourself for whatever.

His becomes very serious, and sits up further on the bed, motioning you to come with him. “Remember. I need you to trust me,” he says.

With trepidation and some excitement, you comply. What’s he thinking?

And then he maneuvers himself so he’s kind of sitting behind you, and before you understand what’s happening, Wolf carefully envelopes you in his arms. With agonizing slowness, he draws you nearer him, until you feel his chest on your back. And then he just kind of holds you near him.

It starts getting harder to breathe, like your throat’s being constricted. (+4 Stress: 31) The arms restraining you give off an uncomfortable tingling sensation, and you’re far too aware that your range of motion is restricted. Unpleasant heat boils up in your chest, threatening to burst out. (+5 Stress: 36)

And then there’s Wolfgang’s voice in your ear. “You can do this,” he says.

The writhing in your skin says otherwise.

>Please let me go.
>I can do this.
>Try to shut everything out.
>Tell Wolf to keep talking.
>Trust him.
>This isn’t how it works.
>Escape.
>Other (?)

>>40570365
>>I can do this.
>Tell Wolf to keep talking.
>Trust him.

Breathe girl. Though I know it'll be a roll.

>>40570365
>Trust him.
>Tell Wolf to keep talking.

>>40570365
>I can do this.
>Tell Wolf to keep talking.
>Trust him.

>>40570365
>Escape.
FUCKSHITFIIIIREERRYWHERE

>>40570365
>Freak out and kill Wolfgang
>Cry

>>40570365
try not to cry
Cry a lot

>>40570365
>Tell Wolf to keep talking.
>Trust him.

>>40570365
>I can do this.
>Tell Wolf to keep talking.
>Trust him.

Hoho, there's a brave lad!

>>40570405
>>40570401
Fuck both of you. Wolfgang is love.

>>40570365
>I can do this.
>Tell Wolf to keep talking.
>Trust him.
>Cry a little

>>40570365
>>This isn’t how it works.
>>Escape.


Fuck you captcha fish is food.

>>40570365
>I can do this.
>Tell Wolf to keep talking.
>Trust him.

>Other (?)
>Wrap some shadow tendrils around him so we're grabbing him a bit. Breathe, relax, listen to his voice. Don't worry about catching fire or being too pointy, that is now Wolfy's problem.

>>40570365
>>Tell Wolf to keep talking.
>>Trust him.
>>I can do this.

Roll dice, we'll see what you can and cannot do.

Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>40570484

Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>40570484
I AM FAILURE

Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>40570484

Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>40570484

>>40570499
Could be worse, but not good.

>>40570499
MEDIOCRE

>>40570499
ImmoriumJoe.jpeg

>>40570504
Not bad either. This is the first step, the fact that we even did this is an improvement, and the reason he did it this way is because he knows about our issues.

It's progress, and intimacy building even though it's not some drastic break through.

This was going to be like a dc20 or so for total success, probably.

47 might be good enough for Wolf to escape with only minor scorchmarks to his apartment

>>40570533
>IB4 dead boyfriend

>>40570499
>>40570531
I suppose we'll have to do this again, then. Training sessions and all of that.

>>40570484
>100
>this kills the wolfgang

>>40570559
That's usually how it goes. Next time we can prep and meditate before to prepare. Go in with negative stress

>>40570495
Yes you are.
>>40570502
Just a fuckin second too late, anon.

You trust Wolfgang, just not with this. You grit your teeth. “This isn’t how it works,” you say, barely managing to keep your voice from shaking. (+5 Stress: 41)

Wolfgang hears the stress in your voice, and you feel a coppery feeling from him. He relinquishes you, and you pull away, rubbing at the needles in your arms.

“I’m sorry,” he says, rubbing his forehead awkwardly.

But you’re more tired than angry. “No, I get what you were trying to do,” you say. “Just... not right now, I think.”

Wolf nods without argument. “Has it always been like this?” he asks.

>I don’t want to talk about it.
>I don’t know. It’s just... it’s hard.
>I hate people just grabbing me because they can.
>I’ve got things I’m working on still.
>Look, forget it. Just come over here.
>Other (?)

>>40570704
>I don’t know. It’s just... it’s hard.
>I’ve got things I’m working on still.
>Look, forget it. Just come over here.

>>40570704
>I don’t know. It’s just... it’s hard.
>Look, forget it. Just come over here.
WE HAVE TO TRY

>>40570704
>I don’t know. It’s just... it’s hard.
>I’ve got things I’m working on still.
>Look, forget it. Just come over here.

>>40570704
>Other (?)
"Almost as long as I can remember. This, scissors, water."

>>40570704
>I don’t know. It’s just... it’s hard.
>I hate people just grabbing me because they can.

if possible lapse into backstory

>try again?

>>40570704
>I don’t know. It’s just... it’s hard.

>>40570704
>I don’t know. It’s just... it’s hard.
>I’ve got things I’m working on still.
>Other: Hug Wolfgang with our shadow.

>>40570704
>I don’t want to talk about it.

>>40570704
>Other (?)
"I think there's something wrong with me."

>>40570704
>I don’t know. It’s just... it’s hard.
>Other (?)
>I didn't have anyone I could trust for a long time. Couldn't let anyone get close, touching me, trying to control me, make me who they wanted to see.
>I’ve got things I’m working on still.
>Look, forget it. Just come over here.

>>40570704
If I let go, I hurt people. Especially the people i care about.

>>40570704
>Other (?)
"...You wanna watch Game Of Thrones?"

>>40570704
>>I don’t want to talk about it.

You hesitate before answering. “I don’t know,” you say, unable to come up with a better answer. “It’s just... it’s really hard. I’m still working on some things.”

Wolf is obviously curious, but he doesn’t pry further.

But he deserves some kind of answer, if only for being cool about stuff. “There’s... I mean. I trust you, okay?” Except about a few things. (-1 Sanity: 98) “I just didn't have anyone like that for a long time. And it’s still weird that for some reason I do, now.”

People never touched you unless they were trying to make you think they cared about you, or trying to show off in front of friends, or punishing you for whatever, or dragging you someplace you didn’t want to go.

Wolfgang’s not about any of that junk, but it’s like some part of your brain is locked up over it. It’s muscle memory, and it’s not easy to drop.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says.

Heh. Now you’re a ‘we’. “Forget it,” you say. “Come over here.”

You make Wolfgang sit down, and then you just kind of hug him from behind, resting your cheek against his shoulder as you idly run your shadow up and down his spine.

“I should have told you what I was planning,” says Wolfgang, letting out a frustrated breath. “I guess I was afraid you’d say no. I wanted to hold you too much. Instincts and things like that, probably.”

“Instincts get you a long way,” you say.

Wolfgang smiles. “Well. What do you want to do now?”

>Just this.
>I guess we could watch Game of Thrones, but only if I can get twenty good men and fresh horses.
>If you take off your face, I’ll take off my shirt.
>I should probably go. Things to do tomorrow.
>Other (?)

>>40571094
>I guess we could watch Game of Thrones, but only if I can get twenty good men and fresh horses.

>>40571094
>>I guess we could watch Game of Thrones, but only if I can get twenty good men and fresh horses.
Shirtless Ramsey with his 20 good men and 2 dogs vs Everyone in Hellborne Quest.

Who wins?

>>40571094
>>I guess we could watch Game of Thrones, but only if I can get twenty good men and fresh horses.

>>40571094
>Just this.
Much as I want to eat his face, this seems more appropriate.

>>40571094
>Just this.
>Other: Hold his hands.

>>40571094
>If you take off your face, I’ll take off my shirt.

>>40571094
>>40571139
Also, throw in a line about how we'll try again sometime.

>>40571134
No contest, Ramsey wins it.

>>40571094
>>If you take off your face, I’ll take off my shirt.

>>40571094
>>I should probably go. Things to do tomorrow.

>>40571094
>I guess we could watch Game of Thrones, but only if I can get twenty good men and fresh horses.
>If you take off your face, I’ll take off my shirt.

GoT+Makeouts+Snek Tongue, take off his shirt at some point as well. If we don't end up paying any attention to GoT that's perfectly fine.

>>40571094
>Just this.

>>40571211
Season 5 kinda sucks anyways.

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514 KB GIF

>>40571216
Last episode was pretty fire though.

“Just this,” you say, continuing to run your tendrils lightly up and down Wolf’s back. You can’t think of anything else to do, except what you’re doing right now. But you kind of like what you’re doing right now, so you’re not complaining.

You both stay like that for a couple minutes. (-3 Stress: 38) You’re kind of burned out from life right now. Too many highs and lows.

When you’re feeling more mellow, an alternative presents itself. “I guess we could watch Game of Thrones,” you tell Wolf, “but only if I can get twenty good men and fresh horses.”

Wolf laughs in response.

Things kind of get more normal again and you get to talking and theorizing as you start in on the new episode. During the show of course, you might have accidentally a few times unbuttoned more buttons of Wolfgang’s shirt with your shadow, and you also might have taken a few liberties with running your tendrils along his ribs, but you manage to keep at least fifty percent of your attention on the politics of Westeros. Like. Fifty percent minimum.

And there is maybe a few more goodbye kisses. But that’s just standard procedure for this kind of thing.

You wind up leaving far later than you probably should have, but much lighter on your feet than you expected to be.

--End Season 2, Part 10--

We'll see when next thread is. Maybe Sunday, depending on work scheduling.

>>40571291
Answer this >>40571134
Its important

>>40571291
Thanks for running, mate.

thanks for running Languid!

>>40571291
Thanks for running, Lawnguid.

>>40571291
g'night. Thanks for the thread.

File: image.jpg (1.5 MB, 2592x1944)

1.5 MB JPG

Great run as always Lawn

Thanks for running buddy, great thread

>>40571291
BYE LANGUID-SENSEI-SAMA-SAN

>>40571291
Thanks for running

>>40571374
Wait what
we were running with the lawn

>>40571291
i'm watching you