>>42377645

It wasn't long after that that he changed the subject, asking you to take Amelia's phone over to her quarters. No matter what you tried – although, admittedly, you didn't force the issue too hard – Carnby would not return to the issue of your potentially murderous servant. He would simply deflect the issue, talking about uncertainty and the unreliability of the data he had to work with, and then move smoothly onto another issue. Typically, an issue that would involve you being somewhere else immediately.

So eventually, you gave up and decided to seek advice elsewhere. You were taking Amelia her phone, anyway, so why not get her opinion at the same time? When you got to her room, Amelia was sitting upright in bed, her hand in a sling as it heals, with a foul expression on her face – accepting her bed rest with the air of a man awaiting execution. Her answer, when you raise the issue, is surprisingly blunt.

“Get rid of it,” she tells you simply.

Get rid of it? She makes it sound like taking a stray dog to be put to sleep!

“Stray dogs can bite anyone,” Amelia shrugs, not unkindly, “Get Scathach to turn it into something useful. An attractive hat, maybe.”

Okay, you'll admit that maybe she has a point, but still – wouldn't getting rid of Archangel leave you near defenceless? Unicorn isn't much of a fighter, and you don't have anyone else to work with. That said, Amelia never seems short on willing recruits – what's her secret?

“Just wander about until something ugly jumps out at you,” she explains with relish, “And then beat them to a pulp.”

That's awful, you insist as you fight back an incredulous laugh. Although, that actually sounds kind of fun – especially beating up someone that deserves it. On the other hand, maybe you should see about finding a replacement for Archangel before you get rid of him.

>Keep Archangel for the time being
>Take a wander and see what you can find
>Go and meet with Scathach
>Other

>>42377658
>Go and meet with Scathach
I can see Cass with a holy sword or something.


Also that was the first time you wrote Amelia as an NPC huh?

>>42377658
>go and meet with Scathach

Turn him into a sword. Magical deflecting shield, holy sword. Charge into battle. Also, is it possible for Amelia to give a demon to Cassandra. Because Cassandra and Valkyrie teaming up sounds cool.

>>42377703
>Also that was the first time you wrote Amelia as an NPC huh?

>I think so, usually she's been unconscious or busy elsewhere when Cassandra takes the stage.

>>42377726

>Giving a demon to someone else is possible, if all parties agree to it.

>>42377726
We would lose our only fire magic. Just saying.

>>42377658
>>Go and meet with Scathach

>>42377832
Unless we attached Cassandra to our hip, then we would have four demons out at once and actually get to use our fire magic more often.

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>>42377703
>>42377726
>>42377841

No, Amelia's got the right idea – best to get rid of Archangel now, before the situation gets any worse. You're not sure how it could get worse exactly – the visions of Archangel bursting free of your phone with his sword drawn and ready seem too lurid to be likely – but perhaps you're better off not knowing. So, waving goodbye to your temporarily bedridden friend, you make your way to the hospital and the witch waiting beneath it.

You ride there, the wind rushing through your short hair and seemingly blowing away the dark thoughts that had been brewing in your head. Maybe you'll bump into some likely candidate on your way back from the hospital, serendipity providing you with a new recruit. It'd be convenient, that's for sure, but you'll take whatever you can get. Well, not whatever – you might not be as faithful as you once were, but you're not about to start surrounding yourself with villains and rogues just yet.

At the hospital, Scathach seems eager to greet you, raising the issue of what to do with Archangel before the question can even leave your mouth.

“I so rarely get a chance to experiment with the divine races,” the witch explains, rubbing her hands together with eager glee, “Those who possess angelic servants are seldom willing to give them up – or even deal with one such as myself.”

Well, here you are, you laugh nervously. Ready to sign over a particularly murderous example of God's flock. Are you going to have to do the whole “Close your eyes and think of an item” thing? You saw Amelia undergoing that strange ritual, and you're a little curious.

“No need,” Scathach waves away your concern, “I've already got a strong idea of what's lurking within your Archangel. Can't say I'm surprised, really. Close your eyes, and this will be over soon.”

>>42378045

You don't need to be told twice. Shutting your eyes tightly – and holding your breath for good measure – you wait a moment before Scathach tells you, her voice bearing a light but unmistakable strain, to look for yourself. Floating in mid-air above her forge, the flickering light from the fire glinting off the gunmetal grey surface of the blade, a great sword lies before you. You reach for it, tentatively at first but with greater certainty when Scathach gives you a nod, and wrap your hand around the leather-bound grip.

Immediately, the sword plunges to the ground, dragging your limp arm with it. A real sword, as you quickly discover, is a lot heavier than a broom handle. Still, with both hands on the oversized grip, you're able to lift the blade. It feels... good to hold.

>Archangel has been removed. Gained Sword of the Eighth Order.

“It's not the most powerful weapon to grace this land,” Scathach explains with a note of apology in her voice, “But it should strike with holy power. I wouldn't try taking on Great Lucifer with it, but you should be able to banish minor devils with it.”

What about things that aren't devils, you ask, what should you do about those?

“It's still a sword,” Scathach tells you, in the tone of someone explaining the obvious, “Just cut their heads off.”

...That makes sense.

“Now go,” Scathach waves you off with an imperious gesture, “It's bad luck to leave a newly forged blade for too long without putting it to good use.”

Is that so? Well, you're no expert – in either case, you should be heading off anyway. Perhaps fate will throw a golden opportunity into your lap.

>>42378214

It's not quite the opportunity you were expecting, but something DOES happen when you're riding back to the court. You took a longer route than usual, winding through the darkened side streets as if daring the demons to come out and try their luck, but nothing emerged. Instead, your roamings take you to a club – the same club you went to a month or so ago, with the goal of rescuing a great many innocent lives. A mission that saw you summoning Archangel for the first time, with gruesome results.

Truth be told, you don't remember much of that particular disaster. Most of your information came from Leon, your brash companion. He had explained, with what seemed like an unnecessary amount of relish, how Archangel had scythed his way through the crowd, cutting down the innocent – people you thought were innocent, at least – and the guilty alike.

You force those memories away, concentrating on the dark suited human standing outside instead. He looks unwell, pale and too thin, but when he greets you, his voice is surprisingly healthy.

“Good day to you,” he says, by way of introduction, “My name is Mister Black, one of the owners of this establishment. I wonder if you could assist me with a particular matter.”

He needs your help? It must be pretty important, if he's asking strangers in the street – albeit heavily armed strangers riding Unicorns.

>I'll help, sure
>Tell me what it is first
>Sorry, I've got places to be
>Other

>>42378305
I mean, I guess >tell me what it is first

But, if for some reason we discover that these people and Amelia are tight, immediately switch to

>I'll help, sure

>>42378305
>Tell me what it is first

I wonder if he knows Cass is a friend of Amelia's. He deals in information so I don't see why he wouldn't.

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>>42378335
>>42378337

You're always willing to help, but you're a little uneasy about signing yourself up for something without knowing the details first. At the very least, you want to be sure you're not volunteering to stomp on a bunch of puppies or anything like that.

“A client of ours has become unruly,” Mister Black explains, “He's not violent – yet – but his behaviour has become nevertheless unacceptable and he refuses to leave. His rantings are disturbing our other customers and ruining the atmosphere. If you could assist in his removal, I would greatly appreciate it.”

He's not asking you to kill this guy, is he?

“Within the club? Certainly not,” a thin smile crosses his face, “However, I can't be responsible for anything that happens, say, in the back alley. However you choose to handle the situation, I would most appreciate his swift ejection.”

Well, that doesn't sound so bad. You'll have a word with him, see if you can't convince him to take his business elsewhere. So, you ask as you're about to enter the club, this is just some guy, right? You're not about to tangle with a dragon or anything, right?

“Not a dragon,” Mister Black agrees, “Nothing of the sort. You'll find the, ah, client at the bar. He'll be hard to miss.”

Alright, awesome. You're feeling pretty good – almost confident – as you stride into the darkened club and scan the bar. Mister Black was right – it's hard to miss the difficult customer. Not only is he ranting and raving, demanding another drink and growling threats at anyone to come close, but he's also armed – a pair of wicked looking swords strapped to his back.

He's also a giant leopard man. You're really not sure of any better way to describe him. He's a giant leopard man.

>>42378653

“C'mon, gimme a drink you jerk!” the... customer slurs as you sidle closer, “My money's as good as anyone else's, ain't it? You know I'm good for it!”

He's taller than you, probably twice your weight – and he's got twice the number of swords you do – and, you can't reiterate this enough, he's a giant bloody leopard man. What, exactly, are you supposed to do about this?

As you're watching the situation unfold, the bartender – a stocky man in a suit that matches the one Mister Black wore – stubbornly refuses to serve the difficult client, simply turning away to polish a glass. He meets your eyes and offers you a vaguely apologetic shrug. Unfortunately, that moment of eye contact is enough to draw some unwelcome attention your way. Swaying precariously on his barstool, the leopard man turns to you.

“Heeeey, it's a little human!” he squints down at you, “You a boy, or what? Can't tell, you humans all look the same to me. So what the hell do you want, huh? You looking for a fight?”

>Maybe I am. Want to take this outside?
>You look troubled, why not tell me about it
>You've got to leave. Now
>Other

>>42378671
>You look troubled, why not tell me about it
Outside, wouldn't want anyone rude listening in.

>>42378671
>>You look troubled, why not tell me about it

Amelia would probably just kick his ass outside, but I think Cass would try diplomacy first.

>>42378671
>>You look troubled, why not tell me about it


Two side notes. Cassandra thought the word bloody. Yay, that means she's swearing. This is a good first step.

The second note is, hell yeah. I really like Ose. We should recruit him because I think he is cool.

>>42378692
>>42378717
>>42378811

As much as you want to give this guy a good kicking – the suggestion that you look like a boy stung harder than you thought it might – you decide to try talking with him. If you can't reach some common ground, well, there's always the back alley after all. What you'd do out there, against an opponent who's twice your size, weight and sword level, is another issue altogether.

Start with the basics – what's his name?

“Ose,” the drunk slurs – you have to be sure he's not saying something like “Osh” - before launching into a new rant. “Time was, you wouldn't need to ask. You'd see me and you'd say, “Aw shit son, that's Ose!” and you'd cross the fuckin' street! You know why? Because I WAS somebody, back in those days.”

You... see. What days were those? You're pleased to see that he's quietened down a little, seemingly calmed by someone taking an interest in his problems. You see the bartender looking your way and nod slightly. Returning the gesture, the suited barman fills two glasses and sets them in front of you.

“Man,” Ose takes one of the glasses and swallows half of the contents in a single gulp, “You ain't gonna believe this, but I was an angel once. Had... had fuckin' wings and everything.”

Huh. You never would have guessed – he doesn't exactly act like an angel.

“Pride got me good, didn't it? Thought I was hot shit,” Ose chuckles and finishes his drink, “Then one day, this asshole shows up and says to me, “Hey Ose, let's have ourselves a rebellion!” Just like that, right? Sounds like a good idea, right? Hell no, but I went and did it anyway. Fuckin' asshole.”

>>42378997

Wait, is he talking about... you clear your throat, vaguely unwilling to say the name aloud. Why? You're not sure – it's not like saying it will call the devil down on your head. It's not like you're saying it three times in a mirror or anything.

“Fuckin' Lucifer, right,” Ose nods enthusiastically, almost falling out of his seat, “Hey, you gonna drink that?”

This? You pick up your glass and take a sniff, recoiling in horror at the scent – what is this, paint thinner? Before you can say anything else, Ose plucks the glass from your hand and drains it.

“Ah, that hits the spot,” he smacks his lips, “So here I am. Fallen angel, drowning my sorrows with a little boy for company.”

Sulking a little, you point out that you're a girl. A late bloomer, maybe, but still a girl. Despite that, you can't help but feel a little sympathy for the devil at your side. He doesn't seem like a bad person, just one that made a bad call and is living with the consequences. Not so different from you, perhaps. Still, if he's thrown in his lot with the Prince of Darkness...

“Girl, huh? Lucy was like that. Thought he was a girl first time I saw him, I was halfway through trying to hit it when he told me,” barking out a loud laugh, Ose slaps you on the shoulder, almost dislocating your shoulder, “Mind blown, right? Fuck him, though. I'm on my own now, and that's how I like it!”

>You're not on his side any more?
>You need to clean up your act
>Come on buddy, you need to leave

>>42379058
>You're not on his side any more?

>>42379058
>>You're not on his side any more?

>>42379058
>>You're not on his side any more?


But I assume you also don't want to team up with the guys that cast you out either. If only their was a third option? A group who would be willing to tell both Lucifer and God to, ahem, F off. Have you heard the rumors or through the grapevine that a certain human has been killing both Lucifer's men and the angels? Well I work with her. And you should work with me. And we should work together, because I think you would make a great addition to our team. And hey, if we win,you'll be famous again. Everyone will know you as one of the few who stood up and won against both Lucifer and God.

>>42379165
That's more how Amelia would speak than Cass.

>>42379165
>their

>>42379165
I agree with the intention, but only if Moloch can convert that into CassSpeak.

>>42379195
Maybe certain elements of tone. But I feel nothing is out of character in terms of content at this point for Cassandra.

>>42379281
Like I said the intent is alright, but how it was said was far more Amelia than Cassandra. Cass if far more polite, unsure of herself and nicer tbh.

>>42379101
>>42379109
>>42379165

He's not working for Lu... for Luci... for, uh, Lucy these days? You can't keep a stammer out of your voice as you try to force that cursed name out, inwardly wincing at how ridiculous you must sound.

“THAT asshole?” Ose slams his glass against the counter, drawing stares from across the club, “He fucked it all up for everyone! I mean, yeah, s'my fault as well – I'm the dumbass who listened to his stupid fuckin' plan – but he's not the one suffering 'cause of it. Better to rule in Hell then to serve in Heaven – that's what he said, right?”

That's what you heard, you agree, casing a nervous glance at the bartender. He offers you a small smile of encouragement.

“Yeah, that's all well and good for him – he ain't the one who ended up servin' in Hell! That's the job of THIS asshole,” Ose jabs a finger into his bare chest, “So I said “Fuck it” and split. Huh, speaking of...” Lurching to his feet, Ose grabs you by the arm and starts to drag you towards the back alley. “Guess we better get this over with.”

Get... this over with, you ask as you emerge into the relative brightness of the outside, get what over with? This isn't one of those “I want you to hit me as hard as you can” things, is it?

“Hell yeah, kid!” Ose grins, “Let's fuckin' do this!”

Um, you're not sure about this...

>Hit him as hard as you can
>Wait, what if there was a third option?
>Just go and sleep it off, will you?
>Other

>>42379335
And then Ose and Cassandra started fight club.

>Wait, what if there was a third option?

>>42379335
>Wait, what if there was a third option?

>>42379335
>Wait, what if there was a third option?

I bet Amelia would be all over a fistfight...if she wasn't super injured and all.

I wonder how Ose would react if Amelia told him that she killed Lilith with a punch.

>>42379355
>>42379369
>>42379380

Eh, wait a minute here, you plead. What if there was a third option, siding with neither Heaven nor Hell? He's obviously not in God's good books, and you can't imagine that, uh, Lucy is much of a fan either. So, if there was some third side in this conflict...

“Huh, you tellin' me you're one of those loonies?” Ose slurs, squinting at you, “Those crazies talkin' about killin' angels and devils? Been hearin' a lot of that lately, some talk of a human makin' a name for themselves. Wait, is that you?”

Ah, well, uh, not exactly. You know the human in question, though. Actually, you're good friends – you could make an introduction! All he needs to do, you tell him with a sudden sly thought, is join your team. You're looking for new talent, he's looking to recapture his former glory – this way, you both win!

“Huh...” Ose stretches upright as he thinks, exposing his body to you. In the darkness of the club, you couldn't really get a good look before now – you notice, with a hint of vague dismay – that he isn't wearing pants. In fact, all he wears is an armoured codpiece and a long, high-necked cloak. “What the hell, why not?” the devil grunts, dropping back down into his usual slouch, “Better than sittin' around gettin' drunk all day. This way, I can get drunk and fight all day!”

Uh, right, you tell him with a wavering grin – you can only hope he isn't getting too enthusiastic about his. The devil sticks out his hand and you take it willingly, letting his large palm envelop your hand. The pact, it seems, has been sealed.

>Devil Ose joined Cassandra's party

Now, you've calmed him down AND got him out of Mister Black's establishment – that counts as a job well done, you would say. Wait a moment, you blurt out loud, you didn't even ask about a reward!

>>42379690

“I see you were successful,” Mister Black says smoothly as you return to him, “Without violence, no less. I'm very impressed – but I expected no less from one of Amelia Bishop's allies.”

Wait, he knows Amelia? You can't hide your surprise as Mister Black casually drops her name into the conversation.

“We've done business, in the past,” the soberly dressed man explains vaguely, “She is a resourceful type, to be sure, and I'm pleased to see that you're following in her footsteps.”

Well, you know, you're a quick learner, you tell him with a modest – not to mention awkward – smile. Say, you never asked before. Was there some reward for this little task? You were happy to help, you hastily add, but it only seems fair that you receive some compensation for your time.

“Indeed, we always pay our debts here at the Hellfire Club,” Mister Black offers you a thin smile, “Tell me, human, what can WE do for YOU?”

Wait, did he just call you “human”? Does that mean he isn't? Well, frankly, you shouldn't be surprised. Realising that blurting out a question like that might, at this point, be something of a faux pas you press on regardless. Put on the spot like this, you have no idea what you should – what you could – ask for. You're not even sure what kind of business he was running anyway. There was a bar, yes, and a bunch of lesser demons hanging about, but...

“Of course, we could simply mark it down as a favour,” Mister Black tells you, noticing your uncertainty, “To be redeemed at a later date.”

>Sure, call it a favour
>Actually, there is something I'd like... (Write in)
>Other

>Updated Cassandra's character sheet

>>42379920
>Sure, call it a favour

>>42379920
>Sure, call it a favour
I got nothing

>>42379920
>information

Do you know if a certain nun is still alive and walking around? The nun who gave us our phone upgrade. We haven't seen her since the apocalypse and she is the reason we've been able to survive sort of, so where is she?

>>42380010
That, or if he's heard about a violent scottish youth without a nose. Since we still don't know what happened to Leon and we seemed to care about him when he failed to catch up.

>>42380033
The last place we saw him was at this club after all.

It's like that old joke – as soon as someone offers to grant your dearest wish, you can't think of anything you wanted. You're drawing a total blank, totally out of ideas, and so – after a long and awkward moment of thought – you agree with Mister Black. Call it a favour, yes. It's probably more useful in the long run anyway. Once you know what you need, you can always call in that favour. Although, now you think about it, you wonder how much Mister Black knows about events in London.

“I won't pretend to know everything that happens,” Mister Black admits, “But a great many people come through these doors every day, and they bring information with them. I like to think of this establishment as a place to swap information – rumours, tall tales... and facts.”

Then, you think to yourself, he might be able to tell you where Sister Jean is. You searched, poorly and half-heartedly, for a while during Amelia's coma, but there was no trace of her to be found. As much as you don't want to admit it, you doubt she's still alive. Yet, if there's a chance of learning her fate...

And Leon, you realise with a guilty shock. You had all but written the violent youth off for dead, but he might yet be alive. Confirmation – of either outcome – would bring you some peace of mind. But, and this is a question you're very careful to ask yourself, do you really want to use this opportunity on sentimental information?

>Ask after Sister Jean and Leon
>Save your favour for later

>>42380377
>>Ask after Sister Jean and Leon

>>42380377
>Save your favour for later
Given this world, if Sister Jean is the one who gave Cassie her AngelSP, then there's a good chance Jean's already a badass who can handle this world better than she can.
As for Leon, Cassie needs to ask herself if she actually legitimately cares because that dude turned bad fast. I would hope he's dead cause if he came out alive, that means he's going to be a lot more dangerous.

>>42380377
>>Ask after Sister Jean and Leon

>>42380377
>Ask after Sister Jean and Leon

>>42380430
Ah fuck it, who am I kidding. Cassie's a good girl.
Changing my vote to
>Ask after Sister Jean and Leon

>>42380430
>if she actually legitimately cares

pretty much confirmed incharacter she does. I mean, I know he was a chaos faggot, but for one whole month while carnby was being a coward, cassandra was going crazy and amelia was in a coma he was pretty much the person ingratiating us to forneus and keeping us alive.

>>42380438
>>42380439
>>42380472
>>42380473

Maybe it is empty sentiment, but you won't be able to put your mind at ease if you let this opportunity pass you by. It might be pragmatic to shut your feelings out and cash in on Mister Black's favour when you need it most, but that's just not the kind of person you are. You start by asking about Leon – a violent young Scotsman with no nose, as you describe him – and see Mister Black's eyes light up with recognition.

“Yes, I know the man you're talking about,” there's a pause here as Mister Black considers his words carefully, “Were you... close?”

Close? Not really. You couldn't really call him a friend, but you can't deny that his actions during that long month were vital to your survival. He was the one to placate Forneus, to bring in fresh supplies and do whatever other ugly job needed doing. Maybe that's why he had grown so twisted over that month, why he had become so bitter. If you'd only helped more, maybe...

“He died,” Mister Black says simply, cutting your thoughts short, “He died in an attack on this club. He was leading the charge, and was a formidable opponent. His allies fought hard to recover his body – the last time I saw him, they were carrying his corpse away.”

So Leon really is dead. You take the news with a kind of blank acceptance. Maybe you always knew, in your heart, that there was no other outcome. You abandoned him, after all, at the height of battle. Something had woken, something that even Amelia was terrified of, and you had left Leon to face it. Alone. What else could have happened?

Still, Mister Black claimed they recovered his body – why?

“To give him a respectful burial, I hope,” the solemn creature replies, shrugging.

The thought brings you some strange comfort. Maybe one day you'll stumble across a marker, some memorial to his passing. It'd be nice to visit it now and again.

>>42380812
>carrying his corpse away.
Demon Leon soon.

>>42380812
>His allies fought hard to recover his body – the last time I saw him, they were carrying his corpse away.”

Expect me nigga like you expect Jesus to come back

-Leon

>>42380858
Leon's going to come back as a demon and Amelia's going to recruit him.
Watch.

Wait though. If Leon's allies recovered his body, and Eligor was the leader of Forneus's troops at the time, Eligor probably knows what happened to Leon's corpse.

>>42381005
That's a good point.

>>42380812

Moving on, you ask after Sister Jean. A nun, possibly with the ability to summon angels like you once could. You really don't have much else to offer by way of a prompt – she was tall, of indeterminate age and possessed strangely forgettable features. That's all you can say, but it seems to get a reaction from Mister Black. Not the kind of reaction you were expecting, either. A strange neutrality descends on his features, yet his eyes grow wary.

“Usually, this would count as a second favour,” he begins slowly, “But I have really very little information to give you, so we can consider this one a freebie.”

That's... something. Good? Not good? Really, anything would be good – fact or rumour.

“If she is, as you say, a human with the ability to call upon the divine, she could still be alive,” Mister Black picks his words carefully as he continues, “There are whispers of a group of humans, hidden somehow – nobody is sure how – from our sight. Followers of something they call the New Way, who are allied with God's armies.”

Then he falls silent for a long moment. “That's all I can tell you,” he finishes awkwardly, “Even for one who deals in whispers and rumours, I don't like to offer such uncertain claims. This might all be nothing more than a fantasy – a false hope. Keep that in mind, human, as you decide the path you will walk.”

You see. Nodding sadly, you thank Mister Black for his information and turn to leave. You should return to the court - Amelia deserves to know about Leon. Outside, you call up Unicorn and begin the slow ride back home.

Items that make her resistant to holy attacks. Weapon that makes her deadly against agents of chaos.

My little Cassandra can't be this neutral.

>>42381222

“Dead?” Amelia asks, sitting a little bit more upright in her bed, “...I see.”

That's it? You weren't expecting tears, or for your friend to start tearing her hair out in a display of raw grief, but... just “I see”? Nothing more than that?

“I suppose I'm not very surprised,” Amelia adds after a moment, “If he'd been alive, we would have heard something by now. He was a troublemaker, that one – not that I have any room to talk,” she finishes, with a wry smile.

Sitting by her bed, you find yourself suddenly lost for words. Is this some new side to your friend, some ruthless pragmatism that outweighs anything you've ever forced yourself to feel? Or perhaps this is her own form of grief – hidden behind a stoic mask so nobody else is burdened by it. Either way, it disturbs you in some vague, undefinable way. It's the same unspoken unease you felt when you saw her take a box of bullets, painstakingly loading each one into the handgun magazine she had produced from some deep pocket.

It must have hurt her to do such a delicate task with her broken hand, but she had persisted without complaint. Then, when the task was done she had loaded her gun and tucked it away with a familiar ease. You've not shared a single word about it until now – what is there to say?

“You've got a sword,” Amelia's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, “A sword, a shield and a white horse – you'll be a knight in shining armour in no time.”

Heh, you smile a little as you remind her that it's a unicorn, not a horse. Wordlessly, Amelia waves the distinction away with a flippant gesture. It's a calm moment – maybe a good time to ask a difficult question.

>Tell Amelia about the New Way rumour
>Ask Amelia about her gun
>Make your excuses and leave
>Other

>>42381556
>Tell Amelia about the New Way rumour
>Ask Amelia to Ask Eligor if he knows where Forneus' soliders buried Leon's corpse
>Ask Amelia about her rooty tooty point and shooty

>>42381556
>Ask Amelia about her gun

We picked it up for protection from situations exactly like that encounter with Petra. It just also happened to be helpful in blowing Pazuzu away.

>>42381626
>soliders

>>42381556
>Ask Amelia about her gun

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>>42381626
>>42381635
>>42381739

Maybe it's time to bring up the elephant in the room. That gun, you begin awkwardly, faltering almost immediately. You never actually thought about what to ask about the gun – just forcing the word out, you thought, would be enough. In a way, it is.

“It's for protection,” Amelia answers simply, “Remember Petra, that “interesting” girl with the eye wound? She held a gun on me – it's only fair that I can return the favour, if I have to.”

But, she needed more bullets – doesn't that mean she used it on... someone?

“I used it on a DEVIL,” Amelia stresses that last word, seemingly offended by the suggestion that she shot a person. “Cassandra,” the ghost of a pained expression flickers across Amelia's face, “I don't... want to use this on another person. I don't even know if I could.”

The resulting silence is so awkward that you find yourself unable to break it. In the end, you force out a strangled cough in an attempt at clearing your throat. That, at least, allows you to pluck a few words out of the air. You ask Amelia about Eligor, instead. Does he know where Forneus' rabble – you can't bring yourself to call them “soldiers” - might have buried him? Or if they left a marker of some kind?

“Good question,” Amelia murmurs, fumbling her phone out with her left hand, “We'll see, shall we?” When Eligor appears, dragged into the real world by Amelia's clumsy touch, he does so without his horse. Not surprising really – these fairies tend to built around low ceilings, for obvious reasons.

“A body?” Eligor's response to Amelia's question is one of confusion, “We didn't have time to recover any bodies – it was a full retreat. Although,” a note of bitterness enters his voice, “So few of our troops returned. It's possible that some went rogue, taking the body with them. Why, though, I can't say.”

Had a feeling. The question is if it was Lucy or some other faction.

>>42381913
Leonbowl fucking confirmed.

GET HYPE!

>>42381913

“Good enough,” Amelia says, half to herself, and returns Eligor to storage, “Why would anyone want to abduct a dead Scotsman?”

Seeking to avoid this rather macabre topic, you instead tell Amelia what Mister Black told you about the New Way. You make sure to state and restate the dubious reliability of the information, but Amelia's eyes still light up as you talk. By the time you're finished, it looks like she's about to cast off her bandages and leap up from her bed. When you remind her of her injuries, she pouts a little but relents, slumping back down.

“Bloody bed rest,” Amelia shakes her head in disgust, “To think, I was longing for some decent rest not so long ago. An hour of lying here and I'd be happy with any distraction - even having queen bee herself trying to grab a handful.”

Wait, what? You splutter a little as you try to process what Amelia just said. Did she just imply that Titania...

“Calm down, it's a joke,” a vaguely pained smile crosses Amelia's face, “She's got her hands full with Carnby anyway.”

Wait, WHAT? That's a joke as well... right?

“...Sure,” Amelia says after an awkward pause, “Uh, thanks for telling me about those rumours. I'll make sure to keep my ear to the ground as well. Say, where did you hear them?”

Someone called Mister Black, you tell her – he claimed to know who Amelia was, actually. A friend? Business partner?

Amelia laughs uproariously, throwing her head back and laughing until tears flow from her eyes. “So,” she cackles after a while, “So they've got their claws into you as well, huh? Well, I suppose you ought to know – you just did business with a very old, very powerful devil.” Another chuckle escapes Amelia as she watches your horrified reaction, “Strange world, right?”

...No kidding.

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>>42382259

You keep a steady conversation going for a while after that, exchanging a flow of small talk that manages to skilfully avoid any difficult subjects. You've got to unwind sometimes, after all – and with Amelia stuck in bed, it's probably the only chance you'll get. As soon as she's back on her feet, it'll be back to the trenches for the both of you. Then your chatter is interrupted by a gentle knock at the door, followed by a soft voice.

“Amelia?” Even through the layer of wood, you recognise Titania's smooth tones.

“Shit!” Amelia hisses, pulling her sheets up over her head, “I'm asleep, tell her I'm asleep!”

Well, you can't really answer that, can you? You open the door instead, sliding out into the corridor and letting the queen know that Amelia is definitely asleep. Catching up on her rest. Yes. Definitely.

“Fine,” Titania shrugs easily, “It was you I was looking for anyway. Tell me, please, how much do you know about the current situation at court?”

Now that's a loaded question if you ever heard one. You think back to what you told Cernunnos – things are strained and there is the occasional squabble, but things are generally optimistic. Would Titania expect the same answer? How much does she think you know?

You're spending too much time with Amelia – you're getting paranoid.

>Answer honestly
>Tell her everything is fine
>Avoid the issue
>Other

>>42382412
>Answer honestly

>>42382412
>>Answer honestly
Not all that much.

>>42382412
>Other

Specifically bring up the fact that the strained nature of the courtly situation has resulted in a lack of useful things to do for Cu Culainn. See if we can't convince Titania to let the spearman stretch his legs a bit.

>>42382441
>>42382474
>>42382549

Well, ah, you don't really know much. Things seem to be looking up, what with Cu Chulainn returning and all. That's good, right? You grin like an idiot for a moment before flinching under Titania's studious gaze. Okay, you admit, you've heard some stories about tensions behind the scenes – squabbles between the king and queen. Nothing serious, it's not at cold war levels or anything, but, eh...

“I see,” Titania smiles coldly, “Thank you, Cassandra, for being honest with me.”

Ah, permission to speak freely? You force the question out, holding your back perfectly straight for some unknown reason. You're not in the army, and she's not your queen – why are you struggling to be obedient? You can't really say – she just has that kind of effect on people. Maybe that's why she's the queen, and you're running around talking to drunk leopards.

“Oh?” Titania tilts her head to the side, smiling beatifically at you, “No need to be so formal, child, just say what you want to say.”

Um, you bite your lip, these conditions, this strained situation at court. It's not good to keep Cu Chulainn trapped in the palace all the time, wasting his talents on guard duty. He should be out there, doing heroic stuff – won't that make everyone happy, to have something to cheer about?

“You're exactly right,” Titania agrees with a warm smile, placing her hand on your shoulder, “I'll remember your advice, child – and perhaps you'd like to accompany the hero on his quest?”

Well, ah, uh, maybe. Your reply is fumbled out, but Titania seems to hear every word. Smiling to herself, she pats you on the arm and walks off, sweeping down the corridor with an easy stride.

You get the uneasy feeling that you just signed yourself up for something – and not anything good. Maybe this is how Amelia feels whenever she talks with the queen.

>I think I'll stop here for tonight. Next thread on Friday, and I'll lurk for a while.

>>42382737
Thanks for running, Moloch.

Would a two-handed sword take up both arm slots?

Does Amelia also now have ten slots for demons?

>>42382737
Thanks for the run boss.

I half expected Amelia to burst through the door, yelling "Uh uh! You aren't getting her involved in all this shit too!"

Speaking of which , how'd you like writing NPC Amelia?

>>42382737
So Carnby just upgraded the slots but we can still only summon 2?

>>42382789

Cassandra's sword takes up both hands, but her buckler doesn't use a hand so it balances out fine.
Amelia has ten slots as well, plus Cassandra can summon two demons at once.

>>42382802

NPC Amelia is strange, but interesting to write. I tried to make her answers the same style of thing that players would vote for.

>>42382850
How is Cass at mounted combat? She was doing action hero rolls off her horse in the middle of combat last thread?

>>42382849

Ah, yes. We can still only summon two at once at the moment.

>>42382877
Did Leon get Magatama'd or Bugaboo'd

>>42382871

She was falling off dramatically! Really, she's not the best at mounted combat - she needs both hands to use her sword properly, and that's not so easy on horseback. She's more suited to getting to where she needs to be quickly.

>>42382908

He got a lovely funeral, followed by a tasteful wake.

>>42382938
I'm sure we'll never see Leon ever again.

>>42382938
>She was falling off dramatically!
She did like a combat roll into shield stance near Amelia in one smooth motion. There's a badass in there somewhere.

>>42382984

I like to imagine that Cassandra sees herself as hot stuff. After all, she's a hero of justice!

>>42382965

Without a doubt!