Wait, fuck. The previous thread greentext is wrong.

>Previous thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/45387566/

There we go.

>>45447950
>>Deadshot: Firearms do an additional 10% more damage, rounding to the closest whole number.
>Keep ‘em Firing: Reload the gun to a quarter capacity and return to shooting in the same round.

Bang bang.

>>45447950
>Deadshot: Firearms do an additional 10% more damage, rounding to the closest whole number.
>Keep ‘em Firing: Reload the gun to a quarter capacity and return to shooting in the same round.

>>45447950
Seconding >>45448001

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>>45447950
Alright so now that I voted lets get this shit started Kaz.

*ahem*

>Marie

>>45447950
>Deadshot: Firearms do an additional 10% more damage, rounding to the closest whole number.
>Keep ‘em Firing: Reload the gun to a quarter capacity and return to shooting in the same round.

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>>45448190

I'm half expecting for you to say that you're a Chiefag, anon.

Tsunderes, stockings and Kana Hanazawa were a triple threat to my dick. Couldn't help myself.

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>>45448262
>I'm half expecting for you to say that you're a Chiefag, anon.
Nah Rise. Laura Bailey and her feeling like a fleshed out character with actual issues helped.

>Kana Hanazawa
Okay that makes a little bit more sense. I suffered the dub voice. Very cringy.

>>45447950
>Deadshot: Firearms do an additional 10% more damage, rounding to the closest whole number.
>Feelin’ Lucky: Ignore one Natural 1 once per day.

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>>45448001
>>45448095
>>45448113
>>45448210

>Deadshot: Firearms do an additional 10% more damage, rounding to the closest whole number.
>Keep ‘em Firing: Reload the gun to a quarter capacity and return to shooting in the same round.

As soon as you hear the last bullet shatter the last empty bottle, your hands are instinctively moving on your own to reload the cylinder. The sound of brass casings hitting the dusty ground precedes the noise two more shots ringing out across the desert plains, striking at a distant rock formation that bursts into tiny fragments.

The line of your mouth curves up into a grim smile. You’re nowhere near as sharp as your old man was, but you’re back to your current game. You’re fastest reload is two bullets for sixgun and four for the Winchester repeater hanging on your back. All underneath ten seconds of clearing the brass, grabbing the bullets from your bandoleer, sliding them in and taking aim.

Still, those are reloading conditions you only subject yourself to in times of emergencies. Like nighttime predators such as wolves, cougars or the occasional cattle rustler posse.

You have no particular compunction against putting down humans along with the wild animals. Just as you chose to follow your father into raising cattle with all its difficulties, they made their own choice to live a life of stealing with all the consequences they carried.

The sound of applause attracts your attention. The Asiatic old man sitting on the rock is the most enthusiastic of the bunch, his bushy white beard bobbing up and down with his grinning smile. Robbins is a little more subdued in his salutations as he makes his way towards your position.

(cont.)

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“And you’re sure no longer feeling any persistent aches, pains or any other discomforts?” He asks, inspecting your body with the clinical disposition of a professional. “I mean, that was quite the noise…”

Your hands absently move to reload the Peacemaker as you give him your answer. “The kick isn’t as much of a kick as much as it’s a shove, Mister Robbins. Now that I’m as healthy as one of the horses back on my ranch, it’s a trivial thing to handle now.”

“I’ll take your word for it since I’m not an animal physician,” he says politely, “As well as a general aversion to guns. But please let me know if you start experiencing any sort of relapse. I would hate to see you hurt again…um…”

He flushes red slightly. “I don’t believe that I’ve ever received the proper way to address you. Mister O’Donnel did inform me of your name, but I had no desire to make any assumptions. Please, if you would take a moment to clarify that…”

>How should O’Donnell’s crew address you?

>“Just call me Annette.”
>“Miss Turner is alright.”
>“ Mrs. Turner and nothing else.”
>Other

>>45448913
>“Just call me Annette.”

We're past Fritz looking at past Adrian.

>>45448913
>>“Miss Turner is alright.”

>>45448352

If it's any consolation, Rise is the only girl in vanilla Persona 4 I will ever romance. Friend-zone for everyone else. Oddly enough, Rie Kugimiya's voice was a huge turn-off, since that's usually the reverse. Laura Bailey's performance won me over.

>>45448913
>“Miss Turner is alright.”

>>45448913
>“Miss Turner is alright.”
For now at least. We just lost our husband and kid after all.

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>>45448966
>>45449048
>>45449319

You offer him a gloved hand that stinks of gunpowder. Daniel and Taylor wouldn’t want you to be a perpetual stick in the mud, but you’re nowhere near the point of someone you just met to be calling you on a first name basis. “Miss Turner is alright. Least I can do for the man who stitched me back together. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He smiles as he shakes your hand without flinching in the slightest. “Glad to make your acquaintance, Miss Turner. I look forward to working with you for the foreseeable future.”

Gesturing to the old man, who smiles and waves again at you, you ask, “How about him? I think the last time you introduced us, I was completely under some of that strange surgical concoction. Can’t remember much of it.”

“Ah. Well, we just call him Neeb.” With an ‘ee’ sound like ‘needle’ or ‘free’. “I know that Mister O’Donnell can tell you more about how to properly say it. Pronouncing oriental names was never one of my stronger suits, and he seems more than happy with what we call him in spite of our different languages.”

As if on cue, Neeb makes a shadow puppet on a nearby rock with his hands, and laughs in-between trying to say something in a foreign language. Chinese? Japanese? You can’t tell. They kind of sound the same with what little experience you’ve had with Oriental travelers.

(cont.)

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Not five seconds pass before the sound of hoofbeats come around the rock formations. As the dust settles around the rider, you can easily pick out the form of Jonathan O’Donnell riding his stallion at a moderate gallop. By the horse’s hooves, the hunting dog Descartes eagerly follows its master.

He comes to a stop at your impromptu shooting gallery and dismounts, patting the horse on its rump and scratching the dog behind the ears before turning to you. “Are you feelin’ any better?” He asks bluntly. “Can you shoot without droppin’ your rifle now?”

If there was some sort of challenge in his voice, you can’t sense it. Even if there was, you don’t rise up to it at all. All you do is click the spurs of your boots together and smirk. “You can bet your last silver dollar that I am, Mister O’Donnell. More than ready to put more of those filthy demon dastards into the ground where they belong.”

He grunts. “Glad to hear it. I’ve just received word of a town fifteen miles out of here that they’re in need of our kind of assistance. Hope’s Water wells are dryin’ up, and the town’s in danger of going the way of the ghost. Since you’re so keen on comin’ along with us, then I’m not gonna stop you. But if you have any last business to take care of, you best be doin’ it now. We leave at three. Two hours, understand?”

You nod, say that you understand, and mount your own horse, a thoroughbred named Bolt you personally raised since he was a foal. Gently nudging him with your stirrups, you set off at a moderate pace towards the town. Plenty time for you to do what needs to be done. You should first swing by…

>Turner ranch. Say goodbye to your father, mother, siblings.
>Saint Robert’s Cemetery. Visit Danny and Taylor.

>>45449465
>Turner ranch. Say goodbye to your father, mother, siblings.

>>45449465
>Saint Robert's Cemetery

>>45449465
>Turner ranch. Say goodbye to your father, mother, siblings.
Save our boys for last.

>>45449465
>Turner ranch. Say goodbye to your father, mother, siblings.

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>>45449487
>>45449502
>>45449594

Turner’s Ranch is situated just at the edge of town, a six acre piece of land that your family’s been tilling ever since grandpa came out West with only eight heads of cattle. Now, your family has upwards of sixty bovine, three grazing fields and fifteen ranch hands helping your family produce and breed the best cows for whatever products they could make. Leather, meat, milk, and even exporting manure to neighboring farms.

Your family’s done it all, through the good times and the bad. And right now, you’re about to leave it, without the certainty of coming back.

The ranch hands at the gate know who you are. The ones closest to the latch open the gates and let you through, tipping their hats and greeting you with ‘afternoon’ and ‘Miss Turner’. Adam, Jamie, Thomas, and many more familiar faces you’ve seen grow in age and skill since signing on with your father. You suppose that you’ll miss them as much as the ranch proper.

The main estate is a large two-story house, big enough to raise one’s extended family and house some domestic helpers. Its walls were the ochre red of brick, but the interior and support had the telltale faded coloration of fallen timber. You’re coming in at about time for everyone to come back from break from tending to the cattle.

(cont.)

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You dismount at the fence, hitching Bolt to one of the adjacent posts before walking towards the front door. But you don’t make it halfway towards the entrance before it swings open and a little bundle dressed in white streaks towards you without a care in the world for the dirty ground and the various bullets and bandoleers on your chest.

“Annie!” Little Agatha cries as you swiftly pick her up, spinning around once before setting her down on the ground. You laugh, ruffling her hair, and her seven-year old face beams up at you with absolute adoration. “They said that you were going to leave, but you aren’t, right? You’re here now! Come on!”

She starts pulling at your hand, trying to drag you into the house, all the while going on without care in the world for what's coming out of her mouth. "Mom helped me make my first cherry cobbler pie! After lunch, we can eat my pie together! Wow, you look just like the Sheriff with that outfit! Are you playing dress-up now? I want to play, too!"

>“…Agatha, could you be a dear and tell me where our parents are?”
>“…Agatha, I am going…I’m going to be gone away for a very, very long time.”
>Custom option.

>>45449919
>>“…Agatha, I am going…I’m going to be gone away for a very, very long time.”

After that heartwrenching song and dance.
>“…Agatha, could you be a dear and tell me where our parents are?”

Also
>That pic
We sure Agatha isn't a demon?

>>45449919
>"...Agatha, could you be a dear and tell me where our parents are?"

uguu~

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>>45449964

>Confusing Ushio with Alice.

>>45449986
Thats not what I meant. She doesn't look human.

>>45449919
>“…Agatha, could you be a dear and tell me where our parents are?”

>>45449919
>>“…Agatha, could you be a dear and tell me where our parents are?”

>>45450050
uguu am I kawaii yet uguuuuu

>>45448262
Mah [African-American Brother]
>>45449919
>“…Agatha, I am going…I’m going to be gone away for a very, very long time.”

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>>45449978
>>45450069
>>45450076
>>45450316

You’ve always been told that you’re a rough around the edges and blunt for a woman of marrying age, but you don’t have the heart to tell your little sister straight up that you’re about to ride off without knowing whether or not you’re returning alive.

Instead, you give her hair one more ruffle, and say, “Agatha, could you be a dear and tell me where are parents are? There’s something I need to talk about with them.”
For a brief moment, you fear that she’s seen right through your ruse and that she knows that you actually are indeed not coming back. But her crestfallen face gives way to a petulant pout as she crosses her hands and stomps one of her feet to the ground. “Mmmm….fine! But you have to eat my pie afterwards, okay? It’s still hot right now, so talk while it cools off. I don’t want it to get too cold while waiting for you to finish, okay?”

You’re glad that she has to turn away to lead you into the house, going along with her cheerful skip towards father’s study. You have no desire for her to see the look on your face right now. And you’re pretty damn sure that you don’t want to see yourself either.

He left the door open, and Agatha leads you through it and presents you to your parent. “Father! Annette came back! And she promised to have cherry cobbler pie with me after she wanted to speak with you-”

Her cheerful voice dies in her throat as your father turns away from the window and fixes a critical eye on the two of you. In spite of going on five years past forty, the man still has the intimidating gait that he once had as a rancher. Handlebar mustache, furrowed brow, hard, uncompromising black eyes…

(cont.)

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“…Agatha, why don’t you go get your mother,” He rumbles softly. “Tell her that Annette’s come back. She would want to see her, after all.”

She quails for a brief moment before nodding, “Yes, sir.” With one last squeeze of her hand, she sprints off past the door, closing it shut with a loud SLAM.

A brief moment of silence passes between the two of you before he dryly remarks, “I haven’t seen that outfit in more than ten years.”

You hesitate slightly before shrugging. Resolving to not have your resolve whittle and prevent nervousness from leaking into your voice, you say, “‘Find some way to put it to use’ is what you’ve always told me. And I don’t think Robert would’ve wanted his clothes to go to waste in the attic upstairs. Aside from the shirt, everything’s almost a perfect fit. Even the belts and boots, in spite of the slightest of tugging.”

“You always were closer to resembling Robert than any of your sisters. And you could be wearing much worse,” he says, grunting as he stands up from his seat. “Much, much worse. But that matters little now. I take it that you’ve put this foolishness out of your head and are ready to resume life here, are you not? I can see no other reason for you to return here if you were not intent on staying.”

>“I have to find the men who did this to them. I know you would do the same thing if all of us, mother, me, Amelia, Agatha, were all killed.”
>“I’m not staying here, not while their killer is on the loose. They were the ones that wronged me. I, more than anyone else, deserve justice.”
>“That was your son-in-law and granddaughter we buried two weeks ago. My husband and daughter. How can you go about as things were?”

>>45450589
>>“I’m not staying here, not while their killer is on the loose. They were the ones that wronged me. I, more than anyone else, deserve justice.”

>>45450589
>“I have to find the men who did this to them. I know you would do the same thing if all of us, mother, me, Amelia, Agatha, were all killed.”

>>45450589
>“That was your son-in-law and granddaughter we buried two weeks ago. My husband and daughter. How can you go about as things were?”
no
>“I have to find the men who did this to them. I know you would do the same thing if all of us, mother, me, Amelia, Agatha, were all killed.”

>>45450589
>“I have to find the men who did this to them. I know you would do the same thing if all of us, mother, me, Amelia, Agatha, were all killed.”

>>45450630
>>45450631
>>45450645

That does it. All pretenses of civility fly out the window as you grit your teeth and snarl, “I have to find the…the men that did this to them. Don’t try to tell me what I can’t do when you would do the same thing if all of us, mother, me, Amelia, Agatha were all killed.”

Your father’s face reddens and the veins in his neck bulge. “Do not bring our family into this,” he growls. “Do not focus on the ‘what-ifs’ or other things that haven’t happened and never will happen. Right now, you need to choose your words with great, exceptional care, young lady. Most fathers would’ve slapped their children by now. The only reason why I haven’t is because we can talk about this like civilized folks.”

“I haven’t been a young lady ever since you led me down the aisle to get married six years ago,” you retort. You feel your temper and anger from being helpless and frustrated come to a fever pitch. “I fucking gave birth to my own daughter, and spent five years raising her with Daniel on our own set of land you gave as a dowry.”

“And that’s the problem. What you had with Daniel and Taylor…,” he struggles to find the right words, mulling over them before saying, “What has happened has happened. And don’t mistake my concern for a lack of empathy. I’m sorry that they’re gone and I’m just as angry as you are. But there’s nothing we can do except for accepting what’s happened and moving on, God willing. You can always have another-”

That stops you right dead in your tracks. Every instinct you have is screaming at you to draw the Peacemaker at your belt. There’s no way that you father just suggested that. There was no way he would casually suggest replacing Daniel and Taylor only after two weeks since their funerals.

As if realizing what he said, he brusquely moves towards you, a mollified look on his face. “No, no, no that’s not what I meant, Annette! I-”

(cont.)

“You’re my father, and I love you just as much as any daughter would,” you slowly say, hand flexing at empty air. “But for both of our sakes, I think that you need to stop talking before I do something that I’d never forgive myself for.”

His conciliatory look gives way to one of incredulity. “You wouldn’t dare hurt your father.” Even as he says it, he nervously flicks an eye towards the guns on your belt.

“…yes, I wouldn’t,” you softly say, getting your breath under your control. “Because as much of an insensitive ass as you can be sometimes, I still love you. But this is getting us nowhere. You’re not going to give any ground, and we know that I’m not either.”

With that, you sigh deeply and rub your forehead in consternation. “So I think it’s best if I just walk out the door right now before we come to blows.”

You don’t even make it five steps to the exit after turning around before he shouts, “Annette Gabriel Turner, if you just as much walk out that front door, then you can consider yourself cut out of this family for the rest of your life.”

Just as you’re about to turn the knob, your hand freezes just above it. You don’t turn back, still frozen in mid-motion. “…why,” you whisper. The thought of not being able to see your family again runs through your mind. Of mother’s hugs, Amelia’s piano playing, Agatha’s cooking and the wild land of Turner ranch. Gone forever if you go chasing after justice, after your beloved ones' killers. “Just…why…”

“I’m doing this because I love you!” He roars, before his voice softens into a frustrated sotto. “I don’t…I don’t want to lose another child to chasing after some improbable dream not thinking straight. Please…just leave it to the county marshals and the state rangers…”

>“They can’t do this. This is something only I can take care of.”
>“I haven’t been thinking any straighter since their funerals.”
>Custom

>>45451296
>“They can’t do this. This is something only I can take care of.”

>>45451296
>Genuflect

...seriously though,

>They can't do this. This is something only I can take care of.

>>45451296
>“They can’t do this. This is something only I can take care of.”

Some demons need a personal touch, I guess this is goodbye forever Father.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7IkvAb6THQY

Steeling your resolve, you give your father one last, sorrowful look. “They can’t do this. This is only something that I can take care of. Goodbye forever, Father. May we see each other in a better place.”
With that, you open the door and walk straight out without looking back at all. You’re half expecting for your father to come running at you, grabbing your shoulder, but there are no footsteps or sudden noises to indicate violent movement. It’s as if you just left him frozen there.

You make it past the stairs to see your mother about to make the ascension. One understanding look from her old eyes to yours conveys what had happened between you and father upstairs. Perhaps she already knew that you were already estranged from the family after Daniel and Taylor’s deaths. She only nods and hugs you as tight as she can.

“Stay safe, my child,” she says, huskily and on the verge of shedding tears. “God walk with you in the days to come.”

“Give Amelia my regards when she returns from the city,” you whisper. “I promise to write every now and again.”

“Oh, that’s more than I would’ve ever wanted. Just...please don't be too hard on your father. Robert's loss...your elder brother's disappearance..."

Pick one:
>"I already understand. But I can't back down now."
>"...one day, I will. Today's not that day, though."

Pick one:
>Find Agatha, say goodbye, have a slice of pie.
>Head straight to Saint Robert’s Cemetery.

>>45451654
>>"...one day, I will. Today's not that day, though."
>Find Agatha, say goodbye, have a slice of pie.

>>45451654
>>"I already understand. But I can't back down now."
>Find Agatha, say goodbye, have a slice of pie.

>>45451654
>"...one day, I will. Today's not that day, though."
>Find Agatha, say goodbye, have a slice of pie

>>45451676
>>45451678
>>45451783

You look your mother straight into her eyes. “One day…one day, maybe I will. But today isn’t that day. Mother…I love you. Stay safe…”

With that, you extricate yourself from her arms and run into Agatha. Literally. Just as she’s exiting the kitchen carrying a slice of steaming pie on her plate. “Oh, it couldn’t wait anymore! You need to eat it while it’s hot, okay? Just…here!”

She drags you to the dining room, much to the sorrowful mirth of your mother, sits you down, places a napkin on your lap and places a spoon in your empty hand. Looking at you with as focused of a look as she can muster, you suppose that you don’t have any choice. She wants you to eat all of it and enjoy it.

Ruffling her hair, you take a bite of the piece she set out before you. It’s…it’s really good. This isn’t four-star gourmet food from the big city, but it’s as best as homemade cooking is going to get. The crumbling of the crust and just the right amount of sugar to mix with the preservatives…

It’s the first, only, and as far as you know, last time you’re going to eat Agatha’s cherry cobbler pie.

You haven’t cried since your husband and daughter’s funerals. But right now, you’re struggling to hold back tears and keep your voice level as you completely scrape all traces of the dessert from your plate. “It’s good,” you whisper. “Really, really good…”

Agatha beams. “Really? Thanks, Annie! I should go give father a slice…and one for Amelia when she gets back from the city! All of us will be able to eat my cherry pie!”

>Tell her the truth. “I’m going somewhere far away and I don’t know when I’m coming back.”
>Tell half-truths. “I won’t be around for awhile. Got some business to take care of. Grown-up business.”
>Custom.

>>45451816
>Tell her the truth. “I’m going somewhere far away and I don’t know when I’m coming back.”
I need to find the things that took my husband and daughter from me sister. I need to end them.

>>45451816
>Tell her the truth

This is gonna suck.

>>45451816
>Tell her the truth. “I’m going somewhere far away and I don’t know when I’m coming back.”

The good book says that the truth will set you free. Book of John, or one of the Apostles. Right now, you aren’t feeling free at all. Free from the weight in your heart, free from your father upstairs, free from the inevitable fact that you have to bring your little sister’s world crashing down all around her.

“Agatha…I need you to listen to me.” Your voice breaks her out of her pensive rambling and she turns to look at you with the full attention of her every being. “Look, come closer.”

She does so, and you gently pull her into a soft embrace. “Annie?” She says in confusion, as if she can sense that something’s wrong. “Annie, what is it?”

“Agatha…” You swallow, let out a deep breath and shudder before you slowly intone, “I’m going to be going somewhere far away, and I don’t know when I’m coming back.”

You can actually feel her frown as she squirms her way out of your embrace. Her brows are arced downward as low as they can, confusion and growing nervousness slowly breaking out across her face. “What…Annie? What are you talking about? You only just got here, and you’re…you’re leaving? That' can't be right...you're just going back to your property, right? Where I can see you some more and bring...pie..."

(cont.)

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You exhale and look straight into her eyes with as much gravitas as you can muster. “That’s right. I’m leaving, and I don’t know when I’m going to come back. I may not even…” You made it this far. You can’t stop now. “…I may not even come back at all. Just like…just like big brother Robert.”

That was Agatha’s breaking point. Silverware and porcelain go flying as she violently grabs you and refuses to let go. She has a strong grip for her age. “Annie, you can’t…you can’t go!” Her voice is raw, filled with grief, and tears and mucus are spilling onto your duster. "You have to stay...stay with me and mother and father and everyone else! Without...without you..."

But you don’t give a damn as your sister tries to envelop you in a bear hug. “…you only just came back…I don’t understand…why…you can’t stay with us anymore! Nothing’s going to be the same! You…you can’t…I…"

"I have to do this...this is something very important to me."

"...you..."

You tilt your head in confusion. "Wha-?"

"I hate you!" She screams, and the sheer vehemency in her voice throws you off. "What's more...more important than all of us here? I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I...I...hate...” Her words cease to have meaning and give way to incomprehensible and unrepentant sobbing.

Your heart still feels like it's been skewered for every "hate" driven at you.

>“One day, I hope you’ll forgive me.” [Pull her from your grip and walk out the door.]
>“Can you keep a secret?” [Tell her that demons killed your family]
>Custom

>>45452229
>“One day, I hope you’ll forgive me.” [Pull her from your grip and walk out the door.]

>>45452229
>>“One day, I hope you’ll forgive me.” [Pull her from your grip and walk out the door.]

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>>45452229
>>“One day, I hope you’ll forgive me.” [Pull her from your grip and walk out the door.]

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>>45452249
>>45452256
>>45452289

“One day, I hope you’ll forgive me.”

With those last words, you pull her from your grip and set her down on a nearby chair. She doesn’t even offer any resistance as she continuously mutters ‘hate you’ over and over again, just laying there like a limp piece of rawhide. You instinctively reach to pat her head, but think about it twice, and retract your hand.

The next half hour is a bit of a blur. One moment, you’re sure that you’re exiting out of Turner ranch, and the next, riding as hard as you can through the town without a care in the world. It’s only by Bolt’s instincts and your limited perception of what’s happening that you manage to avoid colliding into any adjacent pedestrians, riders or carriages.

Their harsh words and expletives wash over you like an evening rainfall, ignored and unrecognized. You couldn’t care less. As far things are going, you aren’t going to be seeing them ever again.

The doors to Saint Robert’s are always open, whether they lead to the chapel or the cemetery. The reverend’s out for lunch, which means that no one’s there on the premise to see you enter. Hitching your horse with a sloppy knot, you stumble towards the graves, searching for headstones and squinting for the pair that you’re searching for.

It doesn’t take too long to find them. One big grave and a smaller one sheltered from the hot sun in the shadow cast by the larger. It's nearly iconic in its symbolism.

>Daniel Smith
>Faithful Husband and Loving Father
>Born: March 4th, 1849
>Died: June 5th, 1875
>Loving Memories Will Last Forever

>Taylor Smith
>Beloved Daughter
>Born, September 7th 1870
>Died: June 5th, 1875
>To Live in the Hearts of Those We Love is Never to Die

>“It’s…it’s been awhile…” [Strike up a conversation]
>“…” [Meditate silently on good memories]
>Custom

>>45452734
>>“It’s…it’s been awhile…” [Strike up a conversation]

>>45452734
>“It’s…it’s been awhile…” [Strike up a conversation]

>>45452734
>“It’s…it’s been awhile…” [Strike up a conversation]

>>45452755
>>45452826
>>45452850

“It’s…it’s been awhile.”

You nearly laugh at the normalcy of the statement. Greeting the graves of your deceased family members as if you’ve been gone on a trip back into the big city…either you’re starting to show signs of dementia or you’ve completely approached death with the nonchalance of daily living. You’re not sure which one’s implications are more terrifying.

>You tell your family about the recent things that have happened to you.

“…that’s his name. Jonathan O’Donnell. Says that he’s gonna let me accompany him and his…well, his posse. There’s a young doctor, Mortimer Robbins, who can’t be any older than twenty three. He’s quite the gentleman. And an elderly Oriental everyone just calls Neeb. Doesn’t seem to speak too much English, but understands basic gestures and simple concepts through pantomime…”

Your voice eventually trails off into a diminutive whisper, leaving you standing in silence for many good moments. Then, you pull something out of your pocket and set it down in front of Taylor’s headstone. It’s a wooden top you were going to give her for finishing her tenth arithmetic lesson.

“It’s been hard…” You eventually say. “Really hard. To be honest, the only thing that’s keeping me going is O’Donnell’s promise to let me come along with him. And what I’ve experienced in the last hour isn’t exactly helping me cope…high roads, low roads…it seems that my life is just a never-ending incline.”

Kneeling down, you affectionately rub the cold stone that spells out Daniel’s name with your gloved hand. “But…it’s gonna be worth it. I know it is. I just have to…believe that everything’s gonna work itself as I continue to keep on going.

>“…I love you, and don’t you ever forget that.”
>“…even if it costs me everything, I will avenge you.”

>>45453142
>>“…I love you, and don’t you ever forget that.”

>>45453142
>"...I love you, and don't you ever forget that."

>>45453142
>>“…I love you, and don’t you ever forget that.”

>>45453142
>.....I'll be back, to care for the family I still have, and to tell you that I don't regret a single moment we had together.

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>>45453158
>>45453159
>>45453212
>>45453234

“…I love you, and don’t’ you ever forget that. And I’ll be back, to take care of the family I still have, and to tell you that I don’t regret a single moment we had together.”

>+2 to Light

You exit the cemetery in higher spirits, unhitch your horse and set off at a fast gallop out of town. It doesn’t even take you more than ten minutes of riding to come across the makeshift campsite that you were at an hour ago. O’Donnell is cleaning his gun, and Robbins and Neeb are going over what looks like an anatomy textbook. The latter of the two stand up upon your arrival, with the first only glancing upwards before returning to his appointed task.

“That was fast,” Robbins remarks. “And…I take it that you’ve taken care of everything? All your affairs in order.”

You nod. “Yes. I’m ready.”

He smiles. “Good to know. And just one more check up from me, if you will allow me. Are you still in pain? Anything still hurting, or relapsing back to bad conditions?”

You shake your head, as you take a moment to compose your reply. “It’s still sore, Mister Robbins. But…it’s not going to stop me. It’s there, but it isn’t holding me back at all. I’m more than capable of the jobs ahead of us.”

“Good,” O’Donnell stands up and holsters his revolver. “Because we’re heading out now. Glad to see you came back quicker than I expected. If we ride now, we can make to Hope’s Water before sundown.”

Together, the four of you saddle up and take off like bullets shot from the hip of a legendary gunslinger, riding off towards the west on a beaten path and the desert sun bearing down upon you.

>Strike up a conversation with…

>O’Donnell.
>Robbins.
>Neeb.

>>45453377
>O’Donnell.

>>45453377
>O’Donnell

>>45453377
>Neeb

>>45453377
>O’Donnell

>>45453398
>>45453458
>>45453552

O’Donnell is the one that’s had the least number of meaningful conversations with, barring “who are you”, “be quick about it” and “you can come with us”. Since you’re going to be traveling together in search of the demon that killed your family, as well as killing other demons that are plaguing the West, it only makes sense for you to know him a little better than you normally do.

With that said, given the man’s general blunt disposition, finding something to talk about is going to be difficult…

>What do you want to ask of O’Donnell?
>You have three questions you can ask of him before you reach your destination.
>(Eg. How long have you been doing this? What’s Hope’s Water like? Etc.)

>>45453644
How long have you been at this?
What's the most effective way to kill the monster that killed my family?

>>45453685

“So how long’ve you been at this?” You shout to O’Donnell. “If you don’t mind me askin’. Guy like you must’ve got tons of experience with this kind of thing.”

There’s no response save for the rush of the wind for a good two minutes. Just when you think he’s either completely ignored you or failed to hear you due to the environs, he responds, “My whole life. Born and raised into it, Miss Turner. Ever since I was a young boy, I’ve always been doing these kind of things.”

…not the answer you were expecting. “I’m glad to see that you can back up your claims, but what kind of parents expose their kids to all of this demonic who-do? Speaks of bad parenting if you ask me, no offense.”

That elicits a dry laugh from him. “None taken. As far as I’m concerned, they did what they had to do to make sure I was prepared to face the devils and demons lurking out there in the dark.”

You grimace. “Isn’t the normal response for a child scared of the dark to tell them a bedtime story before tucking them into bed?”

“My father gave me nighttime shooting lessons. In-between drilling the Brothers Grimm fairy tales into my head. That’s not the kind of thing you want to have kids exposed to at a young age.”

(cont.)

"I can only imagine. They’re fairly dark on their own, even though they’ve been slightly watered down.”

“Aye, that they are. The Grimm brothers were real messed in the head, but they were genuine enough in depicting how demons truly act. Something that most people take for granted is how nice fairies are. What they don’t know is that their moods are as fickle as a citizen come election year.”

The two of you ride in comfortable silence before you broach another question. “What’s the most effective way to kill the monster that killed my family, Mister O’Donnell?”

“...if my hunch is correct,” he slowly says, “Then using water is the best way to put it down. It’s undoubtedly a fire demon, so we’ll either have Neeb over here summon a demon with ice magic, or pour buckets of water on it until it goes out.”

Your eyebrow twitches. “The sad thing is that I don’t know whether or not you’re being serious or funny.”

“I’m always serious,” O’Donnell replies. “It’s one of my professional codes of conduct. And many people will be surprised for how powerful mundane solutions are. There isn't always a need to use demons or magic and run the risk of being lynched."

>Roll 1d100 Encounter

Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>45453964
might want to pick this one up tomorrow boss

Rolled 51 (1d100)

>>45453964
HASTUR!

Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>45453964

>>45454188

I'm going to sleep. Knowing my luck, we should be able to pick up tomorrow due to my school's sidewalks icing over. If not, I'll just archive it and then go back to Adrian's story for the next session.

>>45454245
G'nite. Thanks for running. I did kind of doze off there for a little bit myself.

>>45454271

I mean, hopefully this thread should still be able to be replied to. If not...well, that's awkward, but I'll just create a new thread.

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>>45454298
Well I can try and bump it when I wake up in the morning or if I can wake up for any reason in the middle of the night. No promises though.

>>45454298
What time is it over there Kaz? I can bump this every couple hours for three or four times

bump

Bump

>>45457361
I'd bump too, but I get the feeling I'm going to sleep before you.

Calling it now, MC's horse will spit at the demon and it'll actually hurt

>>45457518
Yeah I just woke up. Go get some rest.

I'm awake now. Resuming typing...

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>>45454188
>>45454206
>>45454220

The sound of someone’s scream interrupts you before you can ask a third question of Mister O’Donnell. It’s high-pitched, frantic, desperate and the sign that it’s someone’s absolute last measure to stay alive. And it’s close. Very, very close.

“Come on!” O’Donnell urges his horse onward with a flick of the reins, getting off the beaten road and plunging straight through the untrodden wayside. All it takes is a nudge with the stirrups for Bolt to take off after him, with Robbins and Neeb trailing off behind at least a good five meters away. They’ll catch up sooner or later.

Right now, someone’s in danger, and there’s no way that you’re just gonna ride on as if nothing’s happening.

It only takes a few seconds for you to see the source of the commotion. An overturned carriage, wheels spinning uselessly up towards the Arizona sky, laying on its side. Two people, a man and a woman, clutch each other tight and fearfully as the beasts surrounding the vehicle circle around them and snap at their heels.

They aren’t wolves. Not with those spine ridges, bat-like wings, or beady red eyes. There’s at least three of them circling the couple, two working on the dead carcasses of the horses, and one brutally savaging the body of the carriage drive.

You snarl. No one deserves to go out like that.

O’Donnell raises his repeater and fires off three shots. The KRACK-POW of the rounds scream across the air, whizzing as they strike their intended target. One of the monsters harassing the couple drops where it stands, twitching feebly as crimson vitae pours out of three button-sized holes in its head.

Its kindred bay and roar in anger, and abandon their previous prey. The five of them start gallivanting towards the two of you, froth and blood spraying from their wicked mouths of jagged teeth.

>Choose gun to fire:
>Peacemaker (6 Shots)
>Henry Repeater Rifle (15 Shots)

>Roll 1d100 + 10 to shoot.

Rolled 83 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>45458435
>>Henry Repeater Rifle
Save the sidearm for when we need it.

Rolled 41 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>45458435
>>Henry Repeater Rifle (15 Shots)

Rolled 33 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>45458435
>Henry Repeater Rifle (15 Shots)

Rolled 91 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>45458435
>>Henry Repeater Rifle (15 Shots)
Sup Kaz

>>45458447
>>45458463
>>45458486

Sliding your repeater from your shoulder to your front, you take aim at one of the leathery bastards. Breathe in slowly, no need to rush. Don’t jerk the gun as it fires. Squeeze the trigger, don’t push it.

You fire off three shots, aiming for the one that’s allegedly leading the back. Two of them do little more than kicking up dirt and sand on the ground, but your last shot plugs the bastard right through the throat.

Gurgling, it goes down and starts thrashing violently on the ground, legs askew and claws scratching at nothing…

>How much damage did you do?
>1d10 + 4.

>>45458499

Ayyyy anon.

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Rolled 6 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>45458563
Bang

Rolled 10 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>45458563
Sucks we missed each other at Katsu

Rolled 9 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>45458563

>>45458570
>>45458598
>>45458611

Much to your frustration and surprise, it gets up and still starts to limp towards you. Good Lord, what monstrous resilience. But there’s no way that it’s going to stay alive for long. Not with the amount of blood spilling out of its mouth and throat.

>Demon is now Bleeding.

That aside, there’s still four of them making their way towards you. They’re not as fast as their looks and streamlined bodies would have you believe. Regardless, there’s still four of them and only two of you. Even if reinforcements come, Robbins can’t shoot and Neeb summoning his demons is a last-ditch option at best.

Regardless, there’s still plenty of time for you to make a move before the demons fully come onto your position.

O'Donnell fires again. His shots only manage to clip one of the beast in it's legs, putting it down on the ground, but still crawling as fast as it can.

>Go rescue the couple. (1d100 + 20 to maneuver Bolt past the demons.)
>Keep shooting at the monsters. (Roll 1d100 + 10 to shoot)
>Custom option.

Rolled 20 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>45458838
>Keep shooting at the monsters. (Roll 1d100 + 10 to shoot)
Second thought, all the demons attentions are on us. Going to the couple would just put them in more danger. Killing these guys so they aren't threat will make the couple safe.

Rolled 15 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>45458838
>>Keep shooting at the monsters. (Roll 1d100 + 10 to shoot)

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Rolled 98 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>45458838
>>Keep shooting at the monsters. (Roll 1d100 + 10 to shoot)
Clutch

>>45458957
A nice fat fuck you to the two Dominions who rolled, anon. Well done.

>>45458957
You are CLUTCH as fuck anon, rejoice in that knowledge

>>45458890
>>45458912
>>45458957

When it comes to headshots, they aren’t a one-hundred percent guarantee to drop the target. You know this from personal experience. The occasional deer and wolf, but it’s the wild boars that prove to be the most resilient when it comes to shrugging off a bullet to the cranium. Animal skulls are thicker than they look, and are real tougher to crack.

But you have yet to see an animal that has entered into your line of sight casually shrug off a .44 caliber round straight into the eye. There’s not as much a puff of blood as there is an explosion of chunks and bits as the head is completely and utterly pulverized.

One out of three may seem like a bad record, but if it drops a target in one shot...then you figure that it's a pretty good in your books.

>Your repeater has nine rounds left.

One of the demons reaches you, and claws at Bolt. Your thoroughbred rears up on its hind legs abruptly, nearly taking you out of the saddle. And starts to promptly buck and stomp at the demon underneath it.

>Roll 1d100 + 20 to stay on the damn horse.

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Rolled 72 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>45459216

Rolled 39 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>45459216
Giddy yup

Rolled 74 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>45459216

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Rolled 54 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>45459216
I wonder if we'd get shit for contracting a Sleipnir and riding around on that.

You manage to stay on the bucking beast, with your free hand wrapped around the reins in as tight a grip as you can without choking the startled beast. Still, one of the good things to come out of it is the fact that his wild Rampage took care of two more demons, now little more than bloodstains on Bolt’s hooves and piles of meat and offal on the ground.

O’Donnell whistles sharply, drawing your attention. He gestures towards the couple, nudges his horse with his stirrups and rides along the way, taking care to put down the demons that both he and you have left either crippled or bleeding out on the desert ground.

There’s only one more demon left, and it’s going in for another attack…

>Roll 1d100 + 10 to fill the nasty with lead.

For anyone who played Undead Nightmare...that may just end up being a thing.

Rolled 49 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>45459440

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Rolled 38 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>45459440

Rolled 77 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>45459440
That spoiler

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>>45459489
>>45459504
>>45459527

You don’t even wince as you pull the trigger and send demon bits spraying across your horse and along your duster. The sharp scent of iron and copper fills the air as the fine mist of blood fades and dissimilates as the breeze blows it along the way.

Lowering your rifle, you exhale deeply. Hopefully demon blood isn’t too hard to wash out of clothing.

“Ah, there you are!” Robbins comes along in a few seconds, with Neeb in tow. “It’s nice to see that you’ve managed dispatch the monsters. High marks to your shooting, Miss Turner.”

You do your best to smile past the blood spattered across your face. “Thank you very much, Doctor.”

“I’ve never seen such a clean shot,” he remarks, nudging one of the demons with the tip of his boot. “Right through the eye and straight through the cranium. Quite impressive.”

Neeb dismounts from his horse and excitedly babbles in his language. Opening his backpack, he takes out a large series of bottles and stoppers and immediately starts collecting bits and pieces of the demons that you and O’Donnell have killed. Skin, bones, blood, and even eyeballs. He’s gathering them all.

Agatha’s cherry pie churns in your stomach as you see him nonchalantly harvest the demons for their organs and other body parts.

(cont.)

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“Oi,” O’Donnell grabs all of your attention, leading the scared couple with him from his horse. “We need to get them back to Hope’s Water before sundown. They’ve got some relatives in the way over there. I’ll take Mister Kilmer. Turner, you get Mrs. Kilmer, if it isn’t going to discomfort you?”

You nod. It’s perfectly alright. You help the young girl onto Bolt. “Hold on tight and don’t let go, okay?”

For the briefest of moments, just the way she gave you that hopeful and thankful look…she reminds you of your sisters. But you push that thought out of your head as you follow O’Donnell out of the wayside and back onto the road.

Today was quite the day. You’ve cut yourself off from your family, gotten your younger sister to resent your departure, and ended up slaughtering half a dozen of these…whatever they were, in order to save a young man and woman.

It’s been a good day.

========

And that’s it for now. Bit hasty, but I have to head off to class. I’ll be back in a few hours to answer some questions. In the meantime…

Please choose one for the next session:
>Continue with the story of Annette Turner.
>Return to Adrian Brown in the present.

>>45459728
>Return to Adrian Brown in the present.

>>45459728
>>Return to Adrian Brown in the present.
Save it for a lazy day, but this was def a fun and nice diversion

>>45459728
>Return to Adrian Brown in the present.
Time to research a Kelpie.

>>45459728
>Continue with the story of Annette Turner.

>>45459728
>>Return to Adrian Brown in the present.

>>45459728
>Other
>Veer off course to Dante in the present.

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>>45460716

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>>45460775

Kaz, wake up

>>45461723
Kaz woke up and finished the thread already mang, He is in class right now.

>>45461723

Sup

(On my mobile)

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>>45461885
So Kaz, is Annette's story going to majorly influence Adrian's or is it a fun little interlude/distraction showcasing the Devil Buster's formation and eventually TF666's?

>>45462617

Yes.

In all seriousness its a combination of both. Annette's story primarily came about from:
>Breaking into a different method of storytelling.
>Fine-tuning the gun-combat of my system
>Exposition for the Task Force history
>Playing WAY too much Red Dead Redemption.

But if you want to know whether or not Annette's story is going to influence Adrian's...

Oh yes. Yes it is going to influence them, and not just the game of 'who's my great-great-grandmother/father'. There's going to be major repercussions and consequences based on your choices that will carry on into the modern era.

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>>45463603
>Spoiler
Open the Amala Network in the past, suddenly Demi-Fiend in the present!

>>45463603
>and not just the game of 'who's my great-great-grandmother/father'
>not just

Huh so someone in the Devil Buster's is related to one of our squad then? That's interesting.

>>45463728
I like living.

>>45463603
So does that mean we'll need to finish Annette's story somewhat quickly so that you actually know those repercussions and consequences going forward in Adrian's story?

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>>45463752
Maybe he's just here to take in the sights and hang out with Dante. He doesn't have to be kicking everyone's ass all the time.

They could be ordering pizza and hitting Virgil with the end all of pranks and then laughing while the Task Force can do shit about it and is buried under a million pizza boxes.

>>45463728
>>45464061
I wonder if the Task Force has any rules concerning him.
They've got a couple for Dante, I think.

>>45463728

I've got something along those lines set up along the Bermuda Triangle since I have yet to figure out what the fuck is wrong with that piece of godforsaken sea.

>>45463732

That's something I've had since I drafted up the original concept for this quest. Past comes back to haunt you.

>>45460716

"You've reached the voice mail of Commander Sparda of Task Force 666 East Coast Operations. Leave a message at the tone."

*BEEP*

"Hey, bigger brother! Summer's almost finished, and I don't think we've had the opportunity to spend some real quality family time. So why don't you take a break from that stuffy office job they've got you cooped up in, and we hit the road for a week of unrestrained excess? Two brothers, with two chicks on each arm, hitting up all the pizza joints across 'Murica, drinking all the hootch we come across..."

>Later

"You've reached the voice mail of Commander Sparda of Task Force 666 East Coast Operations. Leave a message at the tone, official Task Force business only."

>Much later

"You've reached the voice mail of Commander Sparda of Task Force 666 East Coast Operations. Leave a message at the tone, official business inquiries only. That means unless it's a matter of life and death, it would be highly inadvisable for you to leave a message. You know who you are."

>Much, much later

"You've reached the voice mail of Commander Sparda of Task Force 666 East Coast Operations. Leave a message at the tone, official business inquiries only. Messages offering recreation, male fertility pills or a combination of both will be deleted immediately."

>Much, much, much later

"Dante, I swear to all the gods above and below the earth, if this is another solicitation for a vacation of blackjack and hookers, I'm going to tan your hide all the way up and down the Eastern Seaboard with the gods as my witness. Stop. Calling. Me. The answer is no."

>>45464210
>I've got something along those lines set up along the Bermuda Triangle

The Amala network and the Akarana corridor. Any world/universe and point of time within that world is available if you have access to both.

Can make for crazy shenanigans.

>Demifiend shows up for vacation
>Raidou follows a case here
>London's Goddess Trio get lost

>>45464356
>London's Goddess Trio get lost
Fitz would love those three.

>>45464356
>Shadow Vortex opens up, causing things that no longer exist to spill out and attempt to become real.

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I think it's time to close up shop for today guys.

====================

Gonna archive it in a few minutes.

Follow me on Twitter for session times and other TF666-related stuff: https://twitter.com/TaskForceKaz

Don't forget to vote for the previous threads on suptg: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Devil%20Summoner%20Task%20Force%20666%20Quest

Hope y'all have a good night/morning/day/afternoon wherever you based anons are.

>>45465280
Next when?

>>45465457

Probably in a few days. No guarantee though.