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Even among the seconds-in-command of the Empire, defectors can be found for Lady Hauteclere's rebellion. Knowing that the likes of Sir Denim are supporting their cause makes her and her children, Dyrus and Laurise, rest all the easier, though Lord Darren is cautious and suspicious of the Vautou and Imperial Mage.

Samson, meanwhile, is still biding his time once again in yet another new venue. He seems to end up doing that a lot, for some reason. Between conversation with 3/4 of his male allies in cell time and discussions with the ex-island arena rat Edwyg, he's really starting to feel he has a chance to break free of all this garbage, perhaps rally these prisoners. Speaking with them, learning their stories, keeping notes on your observations, just stuff he's doing to pass time... Maybe he can write about this later in life anyway, after he escapes, or use it TO escape. A lot of these people were wrongfully imprisoned by the Empire, put on trumped-up charges or given overly-harsh sentences... And they're the lucky ones for not simply being killed on sight.

You are now Samson, reflecting on these notes in your cell. Oswald Dory, a smuggling kingpin, could certainly be useful if you and Edwyg pull the right strings. There's also those twin bakers who got really shredded upon entering prison, Dough and Knut. They can't exactly take you and Millicent's song and dance powers away, meaning that those skilled in a fistfight will be even more helpful in perhaps swiping weapons...

"SAMSON!" A sweet-sounding voice you've grown to loathe calls, quite loudly, startling you out of your planning. It's that overseer lady, Helen, scarred-but-still-pretty features giving you a smile when you look up. "Not polite to keep a girl waiting..."

"You got here two seconds ago," Norman responds.

"Silence, stone-faced freak!" She calls to him, before turning her attention to you again. "It's you I have business with~"

>A. No sense resisting
>B. Piss off
>C. Yawn
>D. Write-in response

>>46990456
>C. Yawn

>>46990456
>C. Yawn

>>46990456
>>C. Yawn

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>>46990694
You yawn, smacking your lips a bit and setting your notebook down. Stretching, you stand up.

"You really ought to be treating me with respect, you know!" She says. "Your life's on the line here, after all!"

Honestly, you're starting to get a bit cocky. You've got a plan of action in mind, you've got others who can carry it out even if you should fall, and certainly Fabrice and your mother are cooking up operations of their own in their own holdings. What's she gonna do, kick you around a bit? Okay, that'd probably hurt like hell, honestly, but Norman always takes it like a champ, and that's her "someone's getting their ass kicked" tone anyway.

"Relax," you say, starting towards the cell door with your empty hands up. "I'm not going anywhere."

In their cell across from yours, your father remarks to Adam, "he's got more of his mother in him than we'd ever realized..."

"Shut it or you're next!" Helen threatens, one of her guards opening your cell door so she can yank you out by the arm.

"So how hard're you going to kick my ass, boss?" You ask Helen.

"Oh, I'm not doing anything to you~" She reassures you in an eerily friendly voice. "Just nominated you for Sublevel 2 is all!"

Sublevel 2, right... Edwyg has told you about this.

Methodius, a necromancer from the capital region, often has prisoners hauled down there to test the might of his undead creations, particularly something Lazare was able to identify as a "deadlord" (though just what a deadlord IS is still a mystery to you all), though he does use lesser undead creatures as well.

>A. Begin to lose your cool. You can't fight!
>B. Attempt more one-liners (write-in)
>C. Heh. Bring it on (confident)
>D. Heh. Bring it on (not confident at all)
>E. Write-in action
>F. ...

>>46990835
Vote time renewed.

>>46990835
>C. Heh. Bring it on (confident)

>>46990835
>C. Heh. Bring it on (confident)

>>46991252
Keep spamming it in every thread, I'm sure someone will care.

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>>46991252

To quote myself.

>"Preempting any memesters in the audience tonight. /qst/ is a trial board, and I am not currently under any obligation to migrate there."

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>>46991255
You know what, though? You've survived every shitty thing that's happened to you thanks to the Empire so far.

"L-Lady Helen," your father says, "please have mercy... My son isn't a fighter by any stretch of the imagination... Allow me to go in his stead, please!"

"Don't worry about it, dad," you say, turning towards your father as you're walked past. "It's in my blood to survive, and plenty of people DIDN'T die down there."

"See ya in a bit, then, lad," Adam says, patting your father's shoulder reassuringly. "I'll keep the old man from havin' an anxiety attack because yer' thrown in some pit for a few minutes."

'Thrown in' is actually quite an accurate descriptor, since you're pushed down sublevel 2's stairs by the door slamming behind you, barely able to stop your fall by hanging onto a railing.

The sublevel is dark as you step in, and you hear footsteps in front of you. The sound of your stairs up rising away and vanishing into the ceiling tips you in that escaping without a fight won't be easy, so you prepare for the worst as the footsteps grow louder...

And then, "ow... Right at shin level," your mother's voice growls. Torches on the ends of the room turn the dark room VERY bright, and a table with an Iron Sword and a Fire and Wind tome laid out on it is, in fact, right at your mother's shin level, which she rubs.

"Wait... Shit, Samson, they dragged you down here too?!"

"I'm as surprised as you are," you say, trying to keep your cool.

To your left and her right, a magically-sealed room with a mirror on its end, embedded in the wall.

"That's probably a window on the other end," you comment. "See, now that this room's so bright, it's dark in there so they can watch us and it looks like a regular mirror to us."

"So in other words..." Your mother says, reaching for the sword before starting to run towards the 'mirror,' "someone damn important is on the other side!"

>A. Stop her!
>B. Follow her example with the wind tome
>C. See what happens

>>46991528
>A. Stop her!

>>46991528
Er, that was supposed to be a Mage Fighter picture, not a regular Mage.

>>46991528
>A. Stop her!

>>46991693
"Wait!" You say, stopping your mother moments before she strikes the glass. "You don't think they wouldn't have prepared a magical fighting pit for people trying to break the glass?"

"...right, right. Jumped the gun there," she says. "Just... Pisses me off that they'd throw YOU down here. Only being able to think about how it's my fault you got locked up in this place, how you didn't want to follow me any of this time, it... Got me thinking that I've been a shitty mother."

"I'm all for a talk," you say, "but let's hold it off until after whatever Deadlords they throw at us."

As your mother grabs the Fire tome, and you the Wind, you overhear chattering from behind the glass. So it's not soundproofed... The voices sound like an elderly man and a teenage girl, if you had to guess.

"Then I will use the two of you to test THAT out..." the elderly voice says.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r_kEKW_lL5k

A hole in the floor pops open, and out of it hop, quite rapidly, a pair of VERY acrobatic-looking pale dudes, one with long black hair and the other medium blond.

The elderly voice says, "in the ruins of one of the old island civilizations, we discovered a staff that grants exceptional agility and endurance to affected humans, turns them into perfectly obedient soldiers of those who cast it. You two will first show us the true might of these metahumans."

"So full of life..." The black-haired one says. "I can't wait to drain it all to nothing!"

"So they're fast and durable..." Your mother says, switching to her Fire tome. "Is that all?"

"VERY fast and durable," the young woman says. "Why, it was fascinating to witness..."

"You may begin," the old voice says to your opponents, who gleefully rush toward you and Marion.

>A. Attack whoever your mother doesn't!
>B. Sing so she can strike more!
>C. Just... Stay back
>D. Write-in response

>>46991865
>B. Sing so she can strike more!

>>46991865
>B. Sing so she can strike more!

>>46991865
>A. Attack whoever your mother doesn't!
Cover for her.

>>46991865
>D. Run away

File: Magefighter.gif (932 B, 48x64)

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>>46991918
Your mother is quick to sling a fireball at the blond one, the magic singing him in an instant and causing the long-haired one to reconsider a head-on approach for just a moment.

You, meanwhile, sing to your mother, enabling her to snap to the long-haired opponent's side and singe him immediately. He dies just as quickly.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nv3G7hU77ic

"That staff you mentioned has some side-effects, huh, old-timer?" Your mother taunts, tossing her tome in the air.

"So it does... These men are COMPLETELY susceptible to magical damage, to an extent greater than the least resilient of humans. This Wampyr staff is... An interesting thing, but not one worth ever re-using."

"So... Is that it?" You ask. "Can we leave now?"

"No, no, no!" The young woman says. "Why, the testing has only just begun..."

"If everything you necromancers make is that weak," your mother taunts, "you might as well just let us up now."

"On the contrary!" The old man says. "Why, I think you'll find your next opponents far more to your liking. Bovis, Ovis! Rise now!"

Shrouded in darkness, a brown-haired Hero emerges from another trapdoor in the ground, Iron Sword at the ready. Behind him, the hand of... Somebody you figure is a magic-user, judging by the robes surrounding the hand. Both of them are... Exceptionally pale, almost sickly in color despite their battle-ready appearances.

>A. Watch these fighters intently
>B. Snicker at the similar names
>C. Attack right away!
>D. Suggest that you and your mother make some distance
>E. Write-in response

>>46992104
>D. Suggest that you and your mother make some distance

>>46992104
>D. Suggest that you and your mother make some distance

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>>46992232
"Let's... Get away from them to start, shall we?" You ask, your mother already having started to back away to size them up.

Bovis looks like an older man, upon further thought, a bit on the short side but also quite bulky-looking. Despite his sickly form, there's an air of nobility to his face...

You're FAR more distracted by the appearance of Ovis, however, as the Sage climbs out into the light. Tall, broad-shouldered, with an excellently-kept goatee...

"Raleigh, is that you?!" You ask.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ALFLj4teY_E

"So you recognized him... So not just rebels, but friends of his from Holmstead, then?!" The woman's voice asks, suddenly VERY hostile. "Your friend here's magical wounds ended up taking my father's life in Darton! He deserves no more fitting an end than eradicating those he allied with!"

"Veiz, please, calm yourself..." The old man says. "Perhaps you should head upstairs?"

"No... This is what my father gave him to you for, is it not? I must see him in action."

"Shit... Don't freeze up, Samson!" Your mother demands. "Whatever they did, know that the real Raleigh's been dead since it happened! This is a corpse shitting all over your friend's legacy!"

>A. You can't just...
>B. R-right...
>C. Just. Try to focus on fighting Bovis
>D. She's right!
>E. Write-in response

>>46992385
>D. She's right!

>>46992385
>C. Just. Try to focus on fighting Bovis
>D. She's right!

>>46992385
>C. Just. Try to focus on fighting Bovis

>>46992583
"Y-yeah!" You say, albeit still shaken. "Raleigh never would have done something so vile as side with you..."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nx-4tBuXb4Q

"Raleigh, you'll be able to rest in peace soon!" You swear, opening up your Wind tome...

Regardless of your intents to set the big man on your old campus free, memories of old times rush through your head.

You'd gotten lost at the academy early in your time spent studying there because you trusted that idiot Hal to tell you where your classes were, and he was kind enough to show both of you the way. It was a small act of kindness, but only the first of many he would do for anyone...

You can only bring yourself to attack Bovis as a result, cutting through him only slightly with your Wind tome. In response, he rushes towards you, and your mother brandishes her sword and leaps in the way, repelling him.

Now that she's DIRECTLY in harm's way, fighting at a disadvantage due to her wounded arm, you take to singing to her again to keep her energized and ready to take anything.

Still, though, Raleigh-that's Ovis, not Raleigh anymore, you tell yourself futilely-keeps barely brushing past her in his blasts of Fire, and you know that she won't be able to hold out forever drawing both of their fire and occasionally getting a hit in on the more physical one... These men fight almost as well as you're told she did in her prime.

>A. Go on the offensive against Bovis again!
>B. Attempt to distract Ovis
>C. Keep singing! Marion can surely take them out with your support!
>D. Write-in action
>E. Stand around in realization of how outclassed you are

>>46992733
>B. Attempt to distract Ovis

>>46992733
>C. Keep singing! Marion can surely take them out with your support!

>>46992815
We were already doing that when we came to the conclusion it wasn't working.

>>46992733
>A. Go on the offensive against Bovis again!

Don't be a pussy

>>46992832
Then I switch to B.

>>46992733
>A. Go on the offensive against Bovis again!

>>46992848
You veer to the right of your mother's duel, hoping to capture Ovis' attention with an attack.

You finally bring yourself to aim your Wind tome at Ovis, striking him square in the side hard enough to blow him back, capturing his attention and staring him down.

You know you're outclassed.

You know you're not a fighter.

You know this was once a friend of yours, someone who had trouble making truly close friends, but made everyone feel welcome as much as he could...

You know you can't win this, since even the old Raleigh was a better mage than you, but you're going to survive this.

You attempt, poorly, to shrug off blasts of Fire, thankful the necromancer gave his toys similar quality weaponry to what you two were provided, and retaliate with your weak winds.

Things are growing hazy, and your mother is left unsupported in her battle with Bovis...

A sickening groan draws your attention back leftwards. Marion stands opposite a freshly-swung sword, and collapses to her knees, dropping her own iron sword and clutching her chest, unable to hide a quite hideous cut through her abdomen. The horrid stench of battle fills the room quickly, and the Deadlords... stop attacking, simply approaching the magically-sealed room.

"Sh-shit... No, this ain't happening," your mother says, breaths sounding forced.

>A. Keep your attention on the Deadlords. This could be a trick
>B. Hurry to her side!
>C. Attack the two-way mirror with wind!
>D. Write-in response
>E. Simply stand there

>>46993064
>B. Hurry to her side!
Pull back and ask her what to do.

>>46993160
+1

>>46993160
You hurry to your mother's side, pulling her even further from the Deadlords as she weakly picks her sword back up.

"Shit, mom, what do we do?" You ask.

"We, uh... Stay calm, alright? We've gotta have that... Talk now or never."

"Wh-what? No, don't say that! People have survived worse wounds!"

"Yeah, with healers ready... Here, meanwhile, we're surrounded by people who WANT us to die."

"Don't... It's not over yet!"

"Hey, don't lie to me on my deathbed, Samson," she says, recoiling again and trying to hand you her sword. After several seconds, you finally manage to accept it. "N-now, listen here, son... It's fuckin'... Fuckin' obvious they want me dead to end up like Raleigh. Probably... Called you down as a giant warning."

"So pull through!" You demand.

"Samson, it hurts a shitload. I'm just gonna bleed out here while they wait, and I don't wanna go out as some goddamn puppet."

"W-wait..." Nearly dropping her, you double-take. "Are you asking me to..."

"Y-yeah..." She says, demanding in tone. "Hate to have to ask you to, but I wanna be left in so many pieces that they can't possibly put me together as a Deadlord."

>A. Does she know how long that would take?!
>B. You can't do that!
>C. You'll try
>D. ...
>E. Write-in response

>>46993313
>C. You'll try
>E. I'll...do for you, Mother.

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>>46993414
"I... I don't know how possible this is," you say, clutching the sword and letting her down, "but for you, mother... I'll try."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HRKcj0nQCzA

"Heh... Good kid," she responds. "I know I've given you shit for it in the past, but... Don't let that brain of yours go to waste, alright? Be your own man..."

"I will..." You say, "but this trip's helped me realize that I must do more than-"

"Cut the crap and kill me already!" She demands, pointing out a particular spot in her neck that she once explained to you can instantly kill a person if severed.

Steeling yourself, you nod finally begin the arduous process, nearly vomiting from the first, fatal swing alone.

"Keep it up..." She lets out as her last words.

Gods, you can't do this. You raise your sword, trying to force yourself to anyway, and wind up having it shot out of your hands by an arrow of light magic.

The magically-sealed room with the two-way mirror's wall has parted, and just outside of it stands a young woman with long white hair, behind her an elderly bearded man and a couple prison guards.

"Veiz, coming out while there are prisoners present is highly dangerous! The Deadlords would have..." The elderly man starts.

Looking... Well, mortified and close to tears herself, she shakes her head. "He's lost his mother today," Veiz says. "Forgive my rashness, but I think we've tormented him enough!"

"Oh dear, I'm sorry... This was a very poor day for this, Veiz. I'll talk to Lady Helen about her choice in partner for Ms. Marion afterwards..."

The Deadlords hurry to the necromancer's side while the prison guards, ordinary lance-wielding rank-and-file the both of them, approach you, either to restrain or attack you. Who knows.

>A. Do nothing. Freeze up.
>B. Attack!
>C. Write-in dialogue

>>46993611
>>A. Do nothing. Freeze up.
Well, fudge. We're outnumbered and weak. What do?

>>46993611
>B. Attack our mothers corpse!
Need to finish the job.

>>46993663
Did... you just do all of that for nothing?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HbzCochNBx8

Did Helen arrange for you to bear witness to this just to make you suffer? By what you understand, that girl, younger than you from what you can tell, recently lost her father, and she picked the day she would be watching to send you in?!

Questions about the situation at hand, yourself, your skills or lack thereof, and all sorts of related notes fill your head, and you barely react as the guards tie your hands together, Veiz volunteering herself to show you out. Your Wind tome is, naturally, confiscated by the young archer, and you're led back to you and Norman's cell.

"You have my dearest sympathies," Veiz says, not the vengeful-sounding woman she was moments ago. Confirming your recent conclusions, she adds, "my father is... Was the Director of all of Coastal Gerxel, and I only learned of his passing earlier today. To be coerced into putting your mother out of her misery... I wouldn't wish that on anyone." The girl looks close to tears herself.

"Well, well, well," Helen remarks, awaiting you and your escorts just a couple turns away from your cell. "You actually survived. That's impressive!"

>A. ...
>B. Write-in response

>>46993865
>A. ...
Secretly plot to burn down everything. Give nothing away.

>>46993865
>B. *Frown*
Nothing to say.

>>46993975
>>46994019
A fire which had begun to burn in you in recent days erupts into a psychological forest fire.

When the uprising comes, you realize then and there, no one who works on this infernal island can survive. Condoning such places like this...

Thankfully, Veiz is the one who outwardly reacts, not you. "Could you have picked a worse day to take out your senseless aggression and spite towards this man?" She asks.

"It made for quite a show, I'm told," Helen responds, not yet grasping the gravity of the situation.

"Director Waldrick is dead, and you forced me to watch a man watch his mother's life fade away!"

"...shit, what?" Helen asks. "I... had no idea," suddenly the big bad overseer makes herself all small-sounding.

"You have opened my eyes to the callousness of these study pits, and I'm certain Methodius sees it as well now," Veiz says. "Perhaps I ought to explain to your dear friend, Director Hera, that you're forcing prisoners to fight to the death. She won't be as tolerant of its magical research purposes as my father was, not from you."

"L-Lady Veiz... You wouldn't really," Helen says, nervously, "would you?"

Veiz, in turn, merely stares, looking dead serious. "It would take only a few minutes to have her here with the Witch Pendant."

"...don't let Methodius above this sublevel," Helen says, something... Shifting in her eyes as she orders her guards.

Looking uncertain a moment, the guards nod and run off.

"Helen," Veiz says, sounding bewildered, "what is the meaning of this?!"

"You broke protocol and confronted the prisoners in sublevel 2, and they killed you in return," Helen says, drawing her Steel Sword. "That's what happened, got it?!"

"Th-this is so unprofessional!" Veiz exclaims, two guards with axes approaching from their posts at a nearby cell.

>A. Kick some shins!
>B. Warn Veiz of this
>C. Call Helen an idiot
>D. Write-in action
>E. Just see how this plays out

>>46994215
>A. Kick some shins!
>B. Warn Veiz of this
>C. Call Helen an idiot

>>46994261
Supporting

>>46994261
Kay lets go with this.

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>>46994261
You immediately go for Helen's shin, kicking it and simultaneously warning Veiz, "behind you!"

Quickly, she turns around, firing her bright bow at both targets, only to turn around and face Helen again right as she grabs ahold of you and holds a sword to your gut...

"Y-you're... An idiot, you know that?" You say, forcing yourself to speak at long last. "There's no way you're surviving this... Look around, those were the ONLY guards who are listening to you! You're mad!"

"Mad?!" She asks, "would a madwoman do this?!" She asks before stabbing you through the gut.

"Ab... Solutely..." You remark, retaining consciousness just long enough to spot Veiz shoot the clearly-unhinged overseer through the head.

You come to in the prison's infirmary, wound healed up the old-fashioned way, with that Hera woman standing at your bedside. Apparently only a few hours have passed.

So she claims, even the two soldiers Helen sent away thought the plan was crazy and stupid, simply telling Methodius what Helen said to do.

"So... Yeah. I'm not going to let things like sublevel 2 fly, not anymore," she says. "I told you back in Holmstead, I care about keeping peace."

>A. Bull
>B. She was FRIENDS with that woman?
>C. Your mother's blood is on her hands too!
>D. What now?
>E. So... Back to business as usual?
>F. Write-in response

>>46994437
>B. She was FRIENDS with that woman?
>E. So... Back to business as usual?

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>>46994464
"You were friends with that Helen woman?!" You ask, more than a little shocked.

"We survived the arenas together," Hera says. "It's hard to get over that..."

"There's no chance you'll be willing to pardon my friends and I over this debacle, is there?" You ask in as humorous a tone as you can muster considering the fact that your mother DIED hours ago.

"...yeah, no. Security on Fort Dalshin's gonna be as tight as ever. You still did what you did." After a silent moment, she quickly adds, "I... You do have a right to know, though, since you know about Deadlords and all. Lady Marion will still host the spirit of Anguilla as planned."

"Y-you..." Your fists clench.

"But, uh, Veiz said you deserved some break, so we asked around those cellmates of yours... figured you should see someone again."

You're silent as a guard lets a familiarly redheaded dancer into the room, Hera showing herself out. Millicent looks somber, and leaves the guard at the door to just... Walk up to and throw her arms around your back.

"I'm... So sorry," she says, leaning close. "Your mother figured that this was coming awhile ago, but... There's no way this couldn't have ended up awfully."

>A. ...
>B. Write-in response

>>46994613
>>A. ...

>>46994613
>B. Just...hold her for a while and cry silently.

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>>46994695
>>46994711
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WGRNSECTjGk

The guard looks to be deliberately avoiding paying the situation any attention, and you hold her tightly and cry awhile in return, saying nothing.

Her lips drawing close to your cheek, you continue saying and doing nothing. As opposed to the anticipated contact, however, she whispers, "I've managed to have some lockpicks smuggled into me and Edwyg's cell. When the time comes..."

You continue not reacting, simply crying and holding her. Soon, you'll be able to get out of here... Probably after Veiz, Methodius, and Hera have left, both because they're presumably ultra-powerful, as well as seeming like people you wouldn't want caught up in all of this anyway.

Late in the reunion, Millie asks how her brother is holding up, to which you honestly answer quite well, probably even better now that Helen's gone.

Your father is similarly wordless in his cell once you return, Norman is just sort of normally like that, and Adam respects the quiet.

The next day, during your time outside, Edwyg speaks to you like usual, trying to cheer you up with boasts of what your actions have led to. "Ehey, ya know, Samshrimp, soon as you get outta the second sublevel, it closes for good and Helen kicks the bucket. You got a good head on your shoulders, right? Play that up, get some favor points with plenty o' people whose friends died there, or who survived down there, or plain didn't like Helen's stupid face... Grh, why's she get to stay gorgeous when a buncha scars when I look like someone stepped on a gourd?" Shaking her head, she continues, "not important, though. What matters is we got an opportunity here!"

>A. Not really feeling it today
>B. Maybe...
>C. She's right!
>D. Write-in response

>>46994898
>C. She's right.

>>46994898
>B. Maybe...

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>46994988
>>46994973

>>46995034
No, wait, figured out how to tie both options together without losing what I've already written.

>>46994988
>>46994973
"I... I mean, maybe," you say, clearly less than enthusiastic.

"Hey, come on," Edwyg says, slugging your arm. "You're pretty much the entirety of the spirit 'round here! You start doubting we can do 'dis, 'then we can't do 'dis! That ain't what your ma would want, Shrimp!"

"I..." You shake your head. "No, you're right. There's no sense in me rotting here forever, bringing everyone down. That's not what I am."

"That's the spirit..." She says.

"You have a pen?" You ask, popping open your notebook. "I just need to put a couple finishing touches together, spend a day running it through Fabrice and back... Shit, we could act tomorrow if this works out on everyone's end."

"Then it will!" Edwyg says. "These guys are still reelin' from their boss turnin' crazy and then dying. We strike soon, we'll be able to surprise some suckers... Just need to find a good time when Millie's able to get sorta close to the weapons storage with those picks o' hers."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWbM4LcNmjc

You spend the remainder of your time outside thinking quickly, putting something together, passing notes to a guy who can get it to a guy who rooms with Fabrice...

You're only gonna spend one more night where your mother died, one way or another.

>To be continued next thread
I was this close to making that last song Roundabout, but I decided doing weeb shit over something not particularly spectacular would just come off as lame. Roundabout needs a HYPE cliffhanger.

Thanks for playing, as always. Update twitter/ask.fm are qmgrandflocto, and I'll be around in-thread to chat for awhile.

>>46995240
Thanks for running.

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>>46995240
Thank you for running, Octo.
How do you feel about the story so far?

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>>46995253
Always a pleasure.
>>46995257
I feel like it's really coming together in some places, but I find myself lost in others. I end up close to the wire on Samson threads pretty often, since he's a bit disconnected from the "main" plot compared to Rene and especially Dyrus, but it's fun to write and hopefully fun to follow.

>>46995292
I think that while Samson is not necessarily connected to the plot, he does a good job showing the effects of the plot, which gives the events of the plot more weight.

Plus, his encounter with Veiz will probably have an effect on her and her thoughts of the empire. I look forward to seeing how that affects Rene's story.

>>46995388
That is true, yeah. Same reason Rene gives more weight to WHY the Empire needs to be fought while also showing its more human aspects.

While Veiz might certainly have a lesser opinion of her home region's treatment of people, she'll probably end up writing it all off as "Helen is just a HORRIBLE person who caught me at a VERY bad time" unless the universe decides to press on these doubts even harder.