A//N: It’s supposed to be July, not June as I mistakenly said last thread.
[Tuesday, July 2nd 2015, 4:00 PM]

With the destruction of the dryad’s grove, there is little reason for both you and MacKay to stay here. And that’s ignoring the two demons that are still there, who’s glares you can feel digging into your back. It does not bother you…too much. Even though there’s a tiny part inside of you that questions if you could have done things differently, you can walk and rest easy knowing that you made the best choice with the available options.

But with that said, you have no desire to get into an argument with the spriggan and the goblin any time soon. And even if you did, they’re going to be the ones to go to you. You’re not that much of an ass to loudly proclaim the moral superiority of your argument. Especially when the death of their friend just got twenty times worse than it already was to begin with.

You peel off your helmet, rubbing the back of your sleeve across your sweaty forehead. It comes away damp, sticky with an unholy amalgamation of sweat, soot, and all other kinds of unpleasantness.

Christ, what a fucking mess. Both situational and otherwise.

>You are now level 20!
>You may now fuse and control demons up to your current level!

>Le Perk System
>Every two levels you will receive a perk.
>Every ten levels, you will receive two perks.
>Every twenty five levels, you may add a ‘+’ to a Stat of your choice.

>Please select two perks:
>Deadshot (Rank 2): Guns do 15% Bonus Damage
>Heightened Senses: +10 to Perception Tests.
>Nice Guy (Rank 2): Demons recruited through negotiation start with an additional 15% Loyalty.
>Penetrator: Pierce-type weapons do an additional 10% more damage, rounding to the closest whole number.
>Slugger: Bash-type weapons do an additional 10% damage, rounding to the closest whole number.

>>47611973
>Deadshot (Rank 2): Guns do 15% Bonus Damage
>Heightened Senses: +10 to Perception Tests.

>>47611973
>Deadshot (Rank 2): Guns do 15% Bonus Damage
>Heightened Senses: +10 to Perception Tests.

>>47611973
>>Deadshot (Rank 2): Guns do 15% Bonus Damage
>>Heightened Senses: +10 to Perception Tests.

>>47611943
>>Deadshot (Rank 2): Guns do 15% Bonus Damage
>>Heightened Senses: +10 to Perception Tests.

>>47611973
>Deadshot (Rank 2): Guns do 15% Bonus Damage
>Heightened Senses: +10 to Perception Tests.

>>47611973
>Deadshot (Rank 2): Guns do 15% Bonus Damage
>Heightened Senses: +10 to Perception Tests.

>>47611973
>>Deadshot (Rank 2): Guns do 15% Bonus Damage
>Heightened Senses: +10 to Perception Tests.

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>>Deadshot (Rank 2): Guns do 15% Bonus Damage
>Heightened Senses: +10 to Perception Tests.

>Pixie has leveled up!.
>Pixie is now level 12!
>MP: 131

>Gryphon leveled up!
>Gryphon is now level 12!
>MP: 68

>Angel has leveled up!
>Angel is now level 12!
>MP: 95

>You received a notification from Angel.
>I have acquired a new skill master…
>Detain (Prevents the target from leaving the conversation midway)

>Have {Detain} replace one of Angel’s moves?
>Yes (Choose one from her sheet)
>No

The only bright side to this is that favor has been curried in the eyes of Titania, as well as the rest of the fairies and the Sidhe court. And rewards are always nice. Can’t forget about those as well.
Your COMP starts ringing. The LED screen display’s Fitz’s name and grinning face, asking whether or not you want to answer the call. You select the YES option and quietly wait for the connection to establish. It doesn’t take too long, even with the environment that would make cell phone communication almost impossible. Miracle of the universe.

“You wouldn’t have happened to have been standin’ right next to an explosion, were you?” Her voice comes out in its usual smarmy tone, but there’s a bit of worry in there as well. “Because the patch of dirt the GPS says you’d been standing on just lit up like a fuckin’ Christmas tree. What the fuck happened over there?”

You and MacKay find seats, wooden benches set quietly aside the road. It takes all of your effort not to just collapse onto the ancient wood, to place yourself gracefully down. It’s not the best seat, but it’s certainly a welcome one.

“Things got a little out of hand,” You mutter, spitting to the side. “Titania herself got involved in the fight and things just kind of…escalated.”

You hear her let out a low, impressive whistle. “No shit, huh? So that big explosion that we saw from a good three miles away. That was her?”

(cont.)

“Yep. That was her.”

“…remind me not to get on her shitlist anytime soon.”

“No kidding. Speaking of which,” you quickly add, thumbing through the GPS, “Since our end of things’ve been more or less contained, I think that we should...”

>Meet up in the woods. Burning daylight, let’s get some more work done.
>Meet up in the residence hall. Rendezvous, regroup and catch up.

>>47612445
>>Meet up in the residence hall. Rendezvous, regroup and catch up.

>>47612429
>No

>>47612445
>Meet up in the residence hall. Rendezvous, regroup and catch up.
Take a second to catch our breath.

>>47612429
>No
>Meet up in the residence hall. Rendezvous, regroup and catch up.

>>47612429
>No


>>47612445
>Meet up in the residence hall. Rendezvous, regroup and catch up.

>>47612429
>>No

>>47612445
>>Meet up in the residence hall. Rendezvous, regroup and catch up.

>>47612445
>Meet up in the residence hall. Rendezvous, regroup and catch up.

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“…I haven’t seen you guys in two days. MacKay did an alright job of bringing me up to speed, you know, let me know what happened since the attack. But I still think we should take some time to catch up in the residence hall. Rendezvous, regroup, catch up.”

“Perfect timing!” Brady’s voice suddenly chimes into the chat. “We’ve some stuff on our end to share with you as well. There’s a few points of interest, both in town as well as around the fairy realm.”

“What he said,” Fitz interjects, the frown visible in her voice. “We’ll be back in the residence hall…Vicky says it won’t take too long. ‘bout an hour to get back from our location. There’s a lot of data to go over, and we can’t do it over the phone. Erm…COMP?”

The barest hint of a smile enters into your voice. “What makes you say that?”

“Because it’ll be a pain in the arse,” Brady dryly answers, “Not to mention that I’ve got this lovely PowerPoint all nice and set up. Waiting for your viewing pleasure. I even made citations!”

“Smartass. Alright. See you guys then.”

>>Residence hall.

The walk back to the residence hall had been somber, but not silent. MacKay occasionally made a few observations about the tragedy of it all, and how one bad decision just snowballed out of control. But not once did he ever blame them. He only quietly accepted, sympathized, but never agreed.

“It’s not my place to judge them,” He says, stripping off a gel-stained jacket. “Because I for one am not paid to be an adjudicator.”

The two of you pass the time, waiting the minutes away taking care of odd things. Forty minutes into a game of Pong later, and the remainder of your squad shuffle into the door. While they don’t have the scorch marks or other signs of combat that you and MacKay do, it’s certain that they’re very tired. Bags under the eyes and Brady’s stifled yawn don’t lie.

>Pleasant greeting.
>Smartass greeting.

>>47612692
>Pleasant greeting.

And then maybe after the greetings thank them all for keeping things under wraps after we went down on the freeway.

"Good work keeping Titania safe and thanks for pulling my ass out of the fire."

Credit where credit is due you know?

>>47612692
>Pleasantly smartass greeting.
just smartass enough to keep them awake, but not enough to tweek them off.

>>47612692
>Pleasant greeting.

>>47612692
>Pleasant greeting.

>>47612692
>>Pleasant greeting.
I think we're all pretty tired

>>47612692
>Pleasant greeting
Clap em on the shoulder. Tell them good work for the last few days and especially pulling our ass out of the fire back on the road.

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You stand up, smiling pleasantly. “Glad to see you guys in one piece. It’s been awhile, I know, given the whole Orias fiasco two days ago. And I never got the chance to say this, but thanks a lot. For pulling my ass out of that fire, both literally, and figuratively. As well as getting Titania safely into the fairy realms.”

>Squad Carina approves +3

“We’re also glad to see you up and about,” Brady replies, clapping you on the shoulder. “Just didn’t feel right without you at the helm, bossman. No offense, MacKay. You did a bloody well job as well.”

The priest smiles as he finishes assembling his gun back together. “None taken,” he answers, “And when – I mean if, if it happens again, then you won’t have to feel any sort of guilt if I assume command.”

Victoria tilts her head pensively as the proverbial light bulb goes off in her head. “So you’re the second mate? First mate?”

“First mate,” You answer for her. “But since we’re not at sea, the closest thing that’d work is my second- in-command. Because the last time I checked, I’m still squad leader, but we’re all still only Privates in the Task Force hierarchy.”

“Hope that changes soon,” Fitz drawls, plunking herself down on a nearby couch with an undignified flop. She kicks off her shoes and undoes the top buttons of her combat jacket in an attempt to beat the heat. Sunlight from a nearby window catches a bullet casing necklace dangling from her neck. “But that’s a discussion with Alger for later. First things first.”

“We need to fill you in on what happened…” Victoria continues, sitting in the one unoccupied cushion adjacent to the blonde. “So as soon as we sped off…”

(cont.)

They had driven without pause to the coordinates on the GPS, a patch of forest off the beaten path, and far away from the main road. From there, the COMPs proved their identities, and King Oberon allowed them to proceed into the fairy realm, the squad and their cargo under escort by Pixie Honor Guard.

As soon as you had been properly quartered, MacKay had recommended everyone at least a day to rest up. The healers said you were in hale of health, but couldn’t fathom why you had collapsed. But they had estimated a swift recovery, definitely within the next few days. In that time, MacKay recommended for the team to start searching in advance. Just so that little time was wasted while waiting for your awakening.

By the time they finished, the summer heat was reaching the apex of its temperature. Brady had already unbuttoned the entirety of his suit, and Fitz just shrugged hers off entirely. “So there you have it,” Victoria concludes. “And we went out for another day after minimal success on our first…outing, I guess. But we had better success today. Just very tiring to get there…”

You nod sympathetically. “Looks like you had your hands full.”
“I would rather have preferred the sheer boredom to be interrupted with a fight,” Fitz muttered, fanning herself with a closed hand. “We should’ve traded places-“

You and MacKay look at her as one and say together, with the image of the roaring Seedbed still in your minds, “No.”

Momentarily put-off by the intensity of your response, she shrugs. “Eh, fuck it. Whatever. So what did you guys end up doing?”

>You gave a brief summary of what happened in the last three hours.

(cont.)

“How terrible.” Victoria’s face is an expression of sympathy. “Those poor demons. I can’t even begin to imagine what they’re going through right now…”

Fitz shrugs. “They should’ve come clean. ‘stead, they just let it rot and fester. Their own fault, no one else's. They shouldn't try to feel too bad about it."

Brady is silent, as if picking his words before saying, “You did what you had to do with what you had. Rock and hard place. Shame that there was no better option between the two of them. Poor bastards…”

>Fitz approves +5
>Victoria approves +3
>Brady approves +2

>The others will share their data in the next post.
>Choose what to do after they brief you on their findings.

>Choose one:
>Gear up and head back out there.
>Call it a day and rest for tomorrow.

>>47613358
>>Call it a day and rest for tomorrow.

>>47613358
>Call it a day and rest for tomorrow.

>>47613305
>Call it a day and rest for tomorrow.
Everyone's beat captain. Get after the side-quests tomorrow.

>>47613358
>Call it a day and rest for tomorrow.

>>47613358
>>Call it a day and rest for tomorrow.

>>47613358
>pastebin.com/u/TaskForceKaz
Puts us at
McKay 101
Brady 88
Victoria 104
Fitz 141

10 more til relationship rank up with Fitz.

So Kaz is that last quest going to be on the table? And what did the others find out?

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You lean forward, clapping your hands together. “Alright, here’s the plan. You’re clearly tired, and given what MacKay and I just went through, we have no desire to go back out there. So how about this? We debrief, clean up…did you guys have dinner yet?”

They shake their heads. “Didn’t have the time for it,” Victoria answers for them, looking down at her stomach. “Or anything substantial, at least,” she dryly adds, directing a look to Fitz.

“There’s nothing wrong with eating fast food when pressed for time!” She exclaims in response.

“Not when you wolf down two burgers faster than I can get through a deli sandwich.”

“But digressing from that…” Brady continues, casting a wary look to the women’s couch, “No. Just bagels for breakfast and lunch.”

You nod. “Then we’ll get dinner and head to sleep. I think we could all use a little bit of R&R. Bed early tonight, then we resume the investigation tomorrow once we’re all feeling better.”

Everyone chimes in varying tones of thanks and gratefulness. But MacKay frowns. “Do you think Alger would approve? Not saying that I don’t appreciate the respite…”

“It’s not a time-sensitive mission,” You answer, recalling the files that you read in the car ride before Orias attacked. “The last kid went missing two weeks ago, and there’s a huge gap between the kidnappings or disappearances. Whichever they are. At least five or six weeks. One day isn’t going to hurt.”

Fitz leans up from her reclined position. “It’s the first twenty four hours that’re the most crucial, Sawbones. A lot can happen then.”

You raise a hand up in defense. “Then it’s a good thing we’re waking up in about…thirteen. That’s eleven hours to prevent something from happening, if anything happens at all.”

She raises an eyebrow at your pedantic retort, but ultimately drops it. “Fair enough. So here’s what happened today with us…Brady, are ya good to go?”

(cont.)

“Yep.” Brady steps into the center of the area, fingers dashing across the holographic interface of his COMP. Within a few seconds, multiple screens of information can be seen, emitted by the projector build within the gauntlet. You can make out various missing child reports, magnetite readings, all keyed into various maps and images across the screens.”

You raise your eyebrows. “This isn’t as much of a PowerPoint as much as it is the set for ‘America’s Most Wanted’. Holy shit, Brady.”

He shrugs, adjusting the focus for a sharper view. “I’m the kinda man who likes to go all-out when I can.”

You smile. “Can’t argue with that. So do you mind giving me a summary of this giant?”

“We combed across the town with magnetite sensors,” Victoria points along the main roads of Lebanon, Kentucky. “Just to see if we could pick up any unusual readings. Not unlike your little encounter with that Seedbed thingy in the dryad’s grove.”

You nod. “And I take it you had a few positive IDs?”

“A few.” At her gesture, Brady zooms in on three particular locations, blowing them up to have their own separate monitor. “The town itself is already lightly doused in the substance due to its proximity to a faery ring, a secret portal to the realm of the fairies. But we’ve got a few odd ones that had a little more to it than the others.”

Brady squints as he reads out the fine print on display. “New Connections, local orphanage for boys and girls. I did some digging around, and it turns out that two of the kids were adopted from there. Never discovered missing there, so the coincidence probably slid under the local police’s radar.”

Fitz ‘tch’s in disapproval.

“The next one is a local business: Nash’s General. Mom and Pop grocery store and farmer’s market every Friday. Nothing too unusual about that, but then again, we’ll probably figure out what it is when the time comes.”

(cont.)

“And the last one…here,” He takes a moment to adopt a sophisticated air. “The Lebanon American Historical Society. It’s a gathering place for antiques from your country’s history: mariner’s sextants, explorer’s journals, historical reenactments…I think they even had a bullet Jesse James apparently had in his revolver. Only noteworthy thing that’s happening now is a Frontier Life exhibit that debuted a few weeks ago.”

You nod as you process the information. “So far that’s everything in town. Any other anomalies?”

Fitz yawns, scratching her head before answering, “There’s tons of them in the woods, and the biggest one is that Darkbriar place. Not that we could get in. Pixie Guard told us to fuck off and only come back when we had permission from Titanaia.”
Victoria nods in agreement. “With good reason apparently, but that wasn’t the only one…Brady, if you please?”

He nods, and the map of Lebabon is replaced by an antiquated map of the fairy realm. Very antiquated, given the yellowing parchment. “A few places here and there, just randomly scattered around the borders of the city with no rhyme or reason. Nothing unusual there either, barring a few mushrooms and pretty birds. I think the action’s gonna be in town for this one. Again.”

“It most certainly seems like it,” MacKay agrees, sitting up to stretch a krick in his back. “But we shouldn’t forget to check up on those forest spots as well. Just to stay safe.”

You smile. “Exactly. No stone unturned and whatnot. Great job guys..."

>Do you have any questions?

>>47614067
Were you able to tell what was giving off the readings in the History Museum?

>>47614067
Any of the cultural artifacts look like a demon summoner could have used it back in the old days? Talk to any of the parents yet? You figure out what was giving off those readings at the ma and pa shop? Any sign of Orias and his cohorts? Any fairies trail you or act more oddly than usual?

>>47614191
>>47614212

>Historical Society questions.
Brady shuffles through a few screens, searching for a particular display. “Unfortunately no. But what I can say is that whatever’s giving it off, it’s something specific. Very specific to the point where the building itself only has splashes of the strange reading. Definitely some kind of relic or artifact. What it is though, it’s anyone’s question.”

“We tried going in,” Victoria supplemented, “But they were closed early. One of their secretaries got heat stroke and fainted in the middle of a tour. I wasn’t about to break in to try and get a closer look.”

“But it’s definitely a point of interest,” Fitz interjects. “Because according to Alger, a frickin’ cowboy had a posse of Devil Summoners. Well worth checking out tomorrow.”

>Nash’s General
Brady fishes out a bag of chips from his pocket and throws it towards you. You catch it with a disinterested grab. Sour Cream.

“Everything, from the bread sticks to the fried chicken. The whole place is drenched in that funny energy signature. The only difference between that and the orphanage is that the readings are concentrated in the playground and a few other areas. The store? Everything’s confusing the sensors, even at the lowest sensitivity.”

You frown, gingerly setting down the bag. You definitely have to check it out.

>Contacting parents.
Victoria’s smile thins and Brady grimaces. “One and only one. And…”

“Let’s just say that it didn’t go well,” Fitz cuts him off. “The woman wasn’t in any condition to talk. Things got…heated and we had to bail. And that was the first one on the list of eight. We were gonna do some more before you called us back.”

(cont.)

>Orias and Co.
Fitz interjects before Brady can speak up. “No. Bastard’s gone to ground. Wherever the fuck he is, he’s doing a good job of keeping low. As for his sniper buddy…it could’ve been anyone, Sawbones. The lady in line for the restroom, or the cashier at McDonald’s. I honestly got no idea.”

“We need to be careful then,” MacKay rubs his leg, probably near the area where a bullet had gone through his thigh the other night. “Even if we take Central’s verdict into account-”

“Which is total bullshit,” Brady interrupts him.

“…yes, be that as it may, we should exercise extreme caution. Though they are not our main suspects, they still remain a danger to the people at large.”

“Taking him down is definitely a secondary,” You muse. “We’ll be sure to keep that in mind as we proceed.”

>Fairies’ behavior.
Brady turns a very interesting shade of pink. At your and MacKay’s confused looks, Fitz shoots you a motion of “we’ll explain later”.
Victoria shrugs. “I suppose that they made a sharp contrast to the fairy tales, but they seem to be normal demons. As far as polite ones go.

Brady continues, fighting down his blush, “Although they did seem to be disgruntled at the accusations the Task Force has levied against them of making off with the kids. Their mood’s improved since the last time we saw them. I think that’s your doing. Helping out with their problems.”

“We’re not the ones to ask those questions,” Fitz retorts, pointing to the COMP. “You and MacKay are the ones with Fairy demons...” She pauses, eyes flickering towards Brady. “You’d be the experts on their behaviors more so than us.”

“Most likely,” you concur, no small amount of curious. “And you’ve given me a lot to think about, as well as plan out for tomorrow.

>Choose one:
>“Let’s hit the showers and get some food.”
>“So Brady…what’s up? You okay there?”

>>47614591
>>“So Brady…what’s up? You okay there?”

>>47614591
>“So Brady…what’s up? You okay there?”
>You turned awfully red, what happened to embarrass you man?

>>47614591
>“So Brady…what’s up? You okay there?”

>>47614591
>“So Brady…what’s up? You okay there?”
Talk to a Lenean Sidhe?

>>47614591
>“So Brady…what’s up? You okay there?”
SHADOWRUN TIME
The General store is using the Corruption as a sort of addictive "perfume" to get people to keep coming back. Since it's only airborne and these are humans, the infection rate is incredibly slow.

The corruption originally came from a seedling that a child wandered around and found, bringing it back to the orphanage playground for the kids to take turns watering.

Kaz.....are you Awoo?

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Your primary motivation for asking Brady is out of concern for his well-being. As Squad Leader, it wouldn’t do for you to be kept out of the loop out of things that could potentially affect performance, both in and out of the field of combat. It’s just the right thing to do, even if ya gotta pop the metaphorical pimple out in the open.

And a tiny part of you that most certainly does not exist is curious to see what’s got him all hot and bothered.

“Ah-” Brady tries to speak. Emphasis on ‘try’, because all that comes out of his mouth is something that’s half-choke, half-squawk. “Well, the thing is…”

Victoria looks to the side, seemingly out of sympathy for his embarrassment. Although she can’t completely hide the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Fitz has no such compunctions, grinning as she stands up, sauntering over to the programmer and draping an arm around his shoulder.

“C’mon, you may as well tell ‘em,” She says, wiggling her fingers in the air. “It’s bound to get out sooner than later. May as well air it out now and get the chuckles out of the way.”

“…fine.” He surrenders, moving with the gait and lethargy of a damned man. You and MacKay exchange confused looks as Brady fires up the Demon Summoning Program. “Promise me you won’t laugh…”

MacKay nods politely. You make no guarantees.

He smiles a smile that comes out as more of a grimace than anything else as he presses the Summon button. There’s a brilliant flash of light as the demon manifests into reality, bits and pieces of data coming together to form a body-

“Oh, master---”

If it weren’t for the fact that she was floating, the elongated ears, or the sharp, orange eyes, she would have passed off for a woman with exceptionally long blonde hair. The purple cloth clinging to her body did nothing to hide her body, only emphasizing it. Especially her cleavage.

(cont.)

“What do you wish of your slave?” The fairy salaciously licks her lips. “This demon’s body is entirely at your service and your desires. I will not hesitate to obey any order you give me, no matter how depraved or degenerate.”

Brady whimpers as MacKay’s eyes practically bug out of their sockets.

>“I think that there’s a reasonable explanation…”
>“I see you’ve made a new friend…”
>“And you were giving me shit about Angel.”
>Custom option.

>>47614986
>>“And you were giving me shit about Angel.”

Also Start quoting rules and regulations from the handbook

>>47614986
>“I see you’ve made a new friend…”
>“And you were giving me shit about Angel.”

>>47614986
>arm over shoulder, silent condolences

>>47614986
>“I see you’ve made a new friend…”
>>“And you were giving me shit about Angel.”
I mean we got the outfit but Sidhe already has the S&M mentality.

>>47614986
>>“I see you’ve made a new friend…”
>“And you were giving me shit about Angel.”

>>47614986
>“I see you’ve made a new friend…”

>>47614986
>So uh, you want to explain, or just have me quote regulations at you for the next two years?

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After finding your tongue and calculating the most appropriate response, you nod solemnly. “…I see you’ve made a new friend…but remember. As an agent of Task Force 666, you must be sure to keep in mind rule number one of The List. I only learned it as well as I did because of your reminders.”

Brady groans. “Oh God, I knew this was gonna happen…”

You grin, sauntering up to join him along with Fitz. “You were the one giving me shit about Angel, dude. Turnabout fair play’s only fair. And while she doesn’t have the outfit, she’s definitely got the S&M mentality down flat.”

He glares at you before deflating. “Aye, I suppose that’s true enough. But how I supposed to know that saying ‘no’ made Leanan Sidhe my slave?”

“Thank goodness that you said yes,” Victoria says, half-torn between cringing and providing morale support. “Because according to the codex, if you said yes to her inquiries, you would’ve been bound to her…okay, this ancient law is kind of stupid.”

“You’re kind of fucked either way.” Fitz takes a moment to realize what she said before she finally musters up a sympathetic smile. “Okay, bad choice of words. Real talk? I offer you my most sincere condolences.”

“...oh, to summon me in public!” The demon titters in delight, swinging from side to side as she observes the entirety of Carina squad. You observe every other noticeable thing about the fairy except for her exceptionally large rack. “How bold of you, Master! Or are we all to partake of me and indulge in our basest desires together?”

And just like that, the words he would've said get stuck in MacKay’s throat.

Too many lewd jokes about ‘semen demons’ and other derivatives of the term run through your mind before you eventually settle with a sympathetic gesture, sliding your arm over his shoulder in a gesture of solidarity.

>Choose one:
>“Let us know if you need any help.”
>“Don’t worry. We’ll protect your virtue.”

>>47615348
>“Don’t worry. We’ll protect your virtue.”

>>47615348
>“Let us know if you need any help.”
Brady's a grown man. He can protect his own virtue

>>47615348
>“Let us know if you need any help.”
We'll stop laughing, eventually.

>>47615379
it's less of an assurance i believe and more of a jab.

>>47615348
>"It'll be fine. Probably."

>>47615348
>>“Let us know if you need any help.”

I want Mackay to miraculously obtain a Lilim.

>>47615348
>“Let us know if you need any help.”

>>47615448
that would just be the greatest feat of troll-manship to have ever been made.

>>47615448
Or Victoria to get an Incubus

>>47615479
No. Mara

Writing...

>>47615513
>Okasan told me stories about this!

>>47615513
That'd take too long though since he's a big name demon.


Besides he'd fit Fitz better, Victoria is to narrow minded.

Your words hold no japing tone in them. There’s nothing but absolute sincerity for your friend in a very bizarre predicament. “Let us know if you need any help, alright? I mean, Angel being what she is, is nowhere near the level of your…problem.”

Brady snorts. “Yeah, no shit dude. At this point, I’d be more than happy to trade with you. Is that a thing? Is that even possible? We’re already Pokémon enough as it is-”

“Oh Master, don’t be so coy,” Leanan Sidhe whispers in a husky voice, floating across the room to stand right in front of Brady, tracing a finger along his chest, throat, chin. “The ancient law binds me to you forever and ever, until your death and maybe even beyond. There’s no severing our pact once it’s been made. I’m your slave now. So come here and give me some discipline…”

Brady finally loses his composure. He hits the de-summoning button to return the fairy into his COMP, and holds his gauntlet as far away from him as he possibly can. The fairy doesn’t take any offense, laughing melodiously as she’s whisked away, breaking down into data to be sucked into the machine.

“Until next time, my master!”

The words echo long after she’s disappeared, and only when the last sounds of her voice fade away does Brady finally exhale, and morosely say: “…fuck.”

You and Fitz give him sympathetic shoulder pats. “It’ll get better. Hopefully,” Fitz muses, casting a wry glance to the COMP. “And like he said, let us know if she gives you any trouble.”

He still seems to be mortified, but the smile on his face is a good sign. “Thanks guys. And…yeah, I’ll stay safe. Oh, don’t give me that look, you bloody wanker. I meant I won’t break the rules. Sheesh, I say one thing and the loon takes it all out of proportion…”

MacKay finally finds his voice. “Well now that that’s over…may I recommend cleaning up for dinner? I was told there was a hot springs nearby.”

(cont.)

>>47615830
>hot springs
Oh boy.

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>>47615830
Victoria’s neck audibly cracks as it snaps towards the priest. You fear for her neck, as well as whiplash, but she doesn’t seem to care. Her eyes are wide and sparkling in the surprise one has when stumbling across something. “Wait, really? A hot springs?”

He nods. “One of the pixies told me this morning. They were cleaning it up for our use tonight-”

Without even letting him finish, Victoria is already halfway out the door. “I have to see this just to be sure. I mean, Virginia hot springs are alright, but they aren’t as good as Japan’s…but what about a fairy spring?”

MacKay stumbles after her. “W-wait! You don’t know where it is!”

>>Hot Springs

“Welcome to the Sidhe Springs, honored guests,” the attendant bows to you. Brady’s mouth twitches at the mention of ‘Sidhe’, but he manages to recover quickly enough. “Her Majesty Queen Titania has decreed that you have access to our waters for the duration of your stay. We hope you enjoy your soak.”

>Choose one:
>Don’t let your demons into the spring.
>Let your demons into the spring.

Shenanigans after I get something to eat.

>>47615969
>Let your demons into the spring.
Oh, boy

>>47615969
>>Let your demons into the spring.

>>47615969
>Let your demons into the spring.
except for Gryphon, ask the others first if they're okay with some very possible roughhousing/loose hair

>>47615969
>Let your demons into the spring.

>>47615969
>Let your demons into the spring.

>>47615969
>Sidhe Springs


Are they owned/maintained by Leanen Sidhe? Will they drop in on us? Or will they water take after a certain Bird's writing?

“Is it alright to let our demons into the springs?” The attendant, a wizened old goblin, raises a cursory eyebrow to track your COMP. Brady shoots you a questioning look as you bring up a display of your demons: High Pixie, Angel, Gryphon. “I mean, it is a spring that’s supposed to be used for demons before we got here, right?”

The goblin muses on that before waving you off. “As long as you do not disturb the sanctity of the springs, then yes, you may let them join you.”
Gryphon, unfortunately, was the big nono. Maybe next time when you’re all by yourself. Or without the crowd accompanying you. Then the big guy can come out to play.

“We have provided complimentary clothing,” it hands you, Brady and MacKay simple swimming trunks. To the girls, one pieces of modest design. “Of course, these are merely optional. If you wish to leave these with your items to enjoy the springs properly, then that is fine as well.”

You cast a look to your squad, friends forged in fire, blood and the art of fighting demons together as a cohesive unit. And they all share the same look in their eyes.

Hell fucking no.

Because while you’re all friends…you’re not that close yet. Swimming suits close, perhaps, but nowhere near le au naturale.

You take the offered clothing from the goblin. “Give her Majesty our regards and thanks.”

It nods, gesturing towards the rooms behind it. “You may deposit your belongings in the basket. You can trust in our guards to ensure that they are not disturbed for the duration of your stay.”

>>Hot springs

“It’s so warm!” High Pixie zips around, flying through the misty air and taking in the atmosphere. “I’ve never been to one of these places before!”

Angel tentatively dips a foot into the water, before deciding to let her legs dangle as she sits above the water. “Indeed. It is neither too cold or too hot. A perfect medium, a pleasant experience that does not infringe in excess want.”

(cont.)

You roll your eyes at the demons’ reactions as you ease yourself into a pool with MacKay and Brady, sighing as the water soothes all the aches and pains accumulated from the day. Brady seems to be in his own nirvahna, and while MacKay is nowhere near on cloud nine, the priest is enjoying the soak.

Mokoi floats in the water, staring up into the evening sky with empty eyes as it mutters to itself. “Istanbul, Constantinople, the grand gates are opening, and I’m feeling nostalgic…”

Jack Frost is nowhere to be seen, which makes enough sense given his affinity for snow and all things winter. But there are other demons to fill in the gap. Knocker and Lham Dearg are debating the merits of soaking in the spring. Gremlin and Tagata Manu play around, splashing each other with the water.

The girls are in a pool of their own, with the rest of the female demons accompanying them: High Pixie, Angel, Apsaras, and Hua Po. It’s far away enough for you not to make out too many details, but close enough to be able to carry on a normal conversation. That was where they drew the line. They aren’t worried about MacKay ogling as much as they are about you and Brady.

You shrug. Whatever floats their metaphorical boat.

The silence is welcome after a long and hectic day, but this is a collective soak with everyone on the team. Perhaps taking that Leadership course as an elective wasn’t so bad of an idea after all, even if the whole thing makes you sound and look like a saccharine idiot.

Ah, Icebreakers...the bane of your college existence.

>Pick an Icebreaker genre:
>Fun. “So if you won the $50 million lottery, what would you do with it?”
>Confession. “Were you ever drunk at one point in your life?”
>Philosophy. “What do you value most in life?”
>Custom option (doesn't have to be an Icebreaker)

>>47616487
>>Confession. “Were you ever drunk at one point in your life?”
Kind of a weird question since everyone here are adults, but could have some funny stories.

>>47616487
>>Fun. “So if you won the $50 million lottery, what would you do with it?”

>>47616534
I didn't have enough characters to put "flat-out wasted to the point of puking a liver". I thought it would've sufficiently implied being absolutely sloshed.

>>47616487
>Confession. “Were you ever drunk at one point in your life?”
I'm curious about Mackay.

>>47616487
>Favorite Foods, if we're going to be eating together, we may as well try to enjoy it.

>>47616487
>>Confession. “Were you ever drunk at one point in your life?”

Confession. “Were you ever drunk at one point in your life?”

Stupid writer's block...

Writing...

>>47617314
>driver’s silence.”
Is that the certification to drive cars in stealth mode?

>>47617380
SHIT. I THOUGHT I GOT RID OF THAT TYPO. FUCK.
You saw nothing...

“Were you ever flat-out wasted at one point in your life?”

Brady lifts his head from the edge of the pool, glancing in your general direction. “Hmm? What’s this on about?”

You shrug. “It’s that kind of setting, you know? Those icebreakers, and all about those ‘what-ifs’ and questionable and potentially embarrassing things that you’ve done in your past. May as well do it to pass the time to cook in here.”

MacKay hums in pensive thought. “How intoxicated are you talking about?”

“To the point where you’re either puking or hospitalized. Not in that particular order.”

“Twice,” Fitz calls out from her end of the springs. She’s propped up on the edge, facing your pool with a grin. “For my acceptance into the Academy, and when I got my badge. The hangover was hell, and I kind of showed up to get my uniform half-buzzed, but the rush isn’t something I’m going to forget anytime soon.”

Brady snorts. He seems to take that as a challenge. “Once on a dare, but it was with hard liquor. A real German piece of work in my dad’s liquor cabinet when he was away at some diplomatic cocktail party. Me and my mates snuck out some real nasty shit and passed the bottle around until it was empty.”

“Oh yeah? How old were you when that happened?”

“Twelve.”

You whistle. “Damn. How the hell aren’t you dead?”

“Sheer luck, and the insight to have puked my guts out into a toilet before passing out. Dad was hella pissed, though. Gave me a real tanning.”

“Worth it?”

“Worth it.” He seems to be more relaxed now, given the fact that his latest demon was nowhere to be seen.

You can see Victoria shrug. “I don’t drink the hard stuff. Just beer, mostly, and sake for family occasions or whenever I’m in Japan. But the first time I got really drunk…” She frowns. “Don’t laugh, but it was after I got my driver’s license.”

(cont.)

>>47617380
dem japs, man. Chinese can do those martial arts things, but they be ninjas, man, NINJAS. IN CARS.

You snort, and Fitz is unable to hold back a raucous laugh of her own “Wait, are you serious, Vicky?”

The mechanic flushes as she directs a bit of side eye to her companion. “It was high school. We all did stupid things in high school, right? Mine just happened to be the time where me and my friend got…hammered? That’s the correct saying, right?”

“I can’t imagine you drunk,” Brady mutters, seemingly in denial. “Fitz maybe, and definitely Adrian. MacKay…not so much. But you?”

She tosses her hair as best as she can, in spite of the fact that it’s quite damp. “Don’t judge a car based on its exterior. And one doesn’t say no to Morgan Stern if she’s your best friend. Looking back on it, it was a bad decision since I had to miss an English exam the next day…”

“I can proudly say that I’ve never been intoxicated to the point of debilitation,” MacKay says as proud as he can. Well, not as proud as he can, given the whole ‘SIN’ issue. “I’ve indulged in the occasional beer, not to mention the communal wine for Mass. But other than that…no, I have never been drunk, and I don’t intend to any time soon.”

“How about you, Sawbones?” Fitz addresses you. “You got any interesting stories?”

This you know well enough easily. “Medical school acceptance, and every post-final joy while in med. Every time you listed an organ’s function or the correct prescription verbatim, you took a shot.”

Brady gives you a sly smile. “And how much do you know?”

“Enough to make me regret it the day after…” You mutter, “…and stupid enough to do it for the last three years ever since. A tradition, if you will.”

Fitz is quick to take command of the discussion. “I’ll take a shot at this. Okay…food you could eat for the rest of your life. Hamburgers for me, cooked medium rare on a backyard grill.”

You give her a wry look. “That can’t be healthy.”

“Fuck off, Sawbones,” she playfully retorts."I more than make up for it every day on the job."

(cont.)

>>47617615
>Morgan Stern
German for Morning Star
Fuck

McKay prayed for Lucy Fiore right?

>>47617749
>German for Morning Star
Haha, oh god

>>47617749
...son of a bitch.

Pure coincidence, I swear!

Writing...

>>47617828
>>47617749
this is great

>>47617828
Smooth

Smoooooth

Smooooooooooooooooooooooooth

>>47617890
honestly, saying it with trip on would still be okay.

>>47617923
He deleted it, that's what makes it /smooth/

So given that 2/4 of our team likely had Lucifer as their first supernatural contact. Who do think Fit's and Brady's first will be? Lucifer as well, Someone on the side of Law? or something else entirely?

>>47617615
MacKay stands up, taking a moment to shake the moisture out of his face. As soon as he’s done, he gives his two cents. “Tomato soup. It’s cheap, easily made, and tasty with a side of bread. Not to mention that you can change its flavor based on the simplest of things.”

“You can’t be serious.” Brady looks aghast. “MacKay, it’s supposed to be something you’re supposed to enjoy. A lifetime of tomato soup?”
The priest shrugs as he runs a hand through his hair. “It is my favorite dish. The Jesuits did a good job of making it from the simplest ingredients. It’s frugal and nutritious, the ideal Catholic meal!” He jokes.

“Sushi,” Victoria declares, giving you in particular an imperious look. You return her gesture with a playful roll of the eyes and she scoffs in response. “Hands down, full stop. Stereotypical, I know, but miso soup gets boring after a week, and bento boxes…eh. I could go without everything in there for the rest of my life.”

Brady looks pensive before giving his ultimatum. “German sausage. Say what you want, but those boys know how to make fantastic meats.”

“What about you, Sawbones?” Fitz gestures to you. “Food you’d eat for the rest of your life?”

>Chinese food, just because.
>Steak, a real man’s meal.
>Waffles, the iconic food of Belgium.

>>47618159
>other

Turkey. Just...turkey.

>>47618159
>Other
Fucking turkey legs

>>47618219
>PGQ
What?

>>47618159
>>Steak, a real man’s meal.

>>47618247
That was the favorite food of the MC of Princess Guard Quest.

>>47618159
Turkey

>>47618159
>Chinese food, just because.

Or Mexican food.

>>47618159
>>Steak, a real man’s meal.

>>47617997
Our little brother's birthday is 06/06/06 by the way.

>>47618329
never did bother reading since it seems to have left a bad taste in everyones mouth

>>47618329
Lets not talk about PGQ.

>>47618366
>>47618453
You can see the turkey hate I assume?

>>47618159
>barbecue
There seems to be a lack of that here.

>>47618354
here
>>47618527
is good too

>>47618464
But turkey is healthy.

>>47618559
Also dry and bland after a while, and forever tainted.

>>47618559
>dry
then don't roast the thing whole, you'll always either have dry legs or raw breast that way.

> and bland
that's when you start with the spices, marinades, and sometimes just a chunk of fat surgically impaled here and there.

There's no way I could eat just Turkey for the rest of my life. Steaks, Chinese Food, Mexican Food, BBQ have some variety. But just turkey? You'd have to get really creative with it.

>>47618159
>Barbecue

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“Steak,” You say, puffing out your chest in a grandiose way. “A real man’s meal. And yes, I know that eating red meat is eventually going to give me cardio problems in the long run, but then again, if it’s for the rest of my now shortened life…worth it.”

“New York cut or tenderloin?” MacKay asks. “I’ve always been partial for New York whenever I had the chance.”

You shake your head, disgusted at his personal preferences. “There is no finer cut than the flank.”

“So you’re an ass man, is that it?” Brady snarks.

You give him the stink eye as Fitz and Victoria laugh from their personal pool. “Yes, Brady, that’s exactly it. Not to mention funny from the guy who likes German di-”

“Okay, that’s enough of that!” Victoria calls out. “My turn this time! So if you had a million dollars, what would you spend it on…”

>Squad Carina continued to fling shit at each other for the rest of the evening.
>Squad Carina got closer together.
>Squad Carina approves +2

All good things must come to an end, and before your brains got completely steamed, you all stepped out of the springs. There were some occasional looks directed at each other as you went back to the dressing rooms, but it wasn’t too obtrusive. And besides, with MacKay keeping his eyes straight ahead, it was an equal exchange of looks by both sides.

Once you all got your clothes back on and demons returned to their COMPs, you bid the old goblin farewell and return to your residence hall. Food has already been delivered, and you all quietly partake of your meals with small talk and mission questions.

As soon as you finish your meals, you all bid each other good night and meander off to your rooms to take care of your own business. Within fifteen minutes of hitting the bed, you’re already halfway in the process of falling asleep. Within the hour, you’re already lost in your dreams.

>Pick a character:
>Brady
>Fitz
>MacKay
>Victoria

>>47618686
>>Victoria
I don't think she's ever had her own PoV.

>>47618661
I kinda feel that most of those are cheating when they implicitly allow veggies.

>>47618686
>>Victoria

>>47618686
>Fitz

>>47618686
Who haven't we had a PoV with? Fitz and Victoria?

Hmm.
>Fitz

>>47618686
>Victoria
>>47618713
this guy has the right of it.

>>47618686
>>Victoria

>>47618713
I can only remember Brady and Mackay so I think both girls haven't had a PoV.

>>47618686
>Fitz
Always preferred playing as the hot blooded character sometimes (if we are indeed playing and not just watching). Playing Leon back in London was fun as hell.

Looks like Vic is going to win though.

>>47618686
Victoria and Fitz like what they see?

>>47618686
>>Victoria

>>47618840
More like the novelty of "Huh, so that's what my coworker looks like in a swimsuit."

Writing for Victoria...

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The omamori is still where you left it the last time, gently tucked away in the casing of your COMP. You smile as you remove the object from the machine, running fingers over the worn silk and faded kanji.

Yaku-yoke. The avoidance of evil. That is the blessing that is said to be contained within the bag. You’ve never been one to put too much stock into the supernatural. If anything, going to the temples and shrines was done out of respect to ancestors. And to a certain extent, your views haven’t changed even with your employment into the Task Force.

Still, the gods are real enough, apparently. So perhaps their blessing is worth something after all. You make a quick reminder to go to Japan before the year is over. It is ideal to replace the charm once a year to ensure that the protection was continual.

But there is something to be found in the routine of ritual. MacKay says that he finds himself in a “serendipitous stupor” when he prays to God. You cannot claim to have such a connection to the nameless gods and spirits that inhabit the shrines in Japan, the ones at home.

Perhaps they are there, watching when you pass through the torii gates, listening to the sound of temizuya water washing away your impurities. Among millions of tourists and couples, they take the time to listen to you, who summon them with the ringing of the bells, watch you demonstrate fealty through prostration. They watch as you clap to signal happiness, and bless you with your final bow.

You shake your head, clearing your mind as you begin to work on the COMP. They have lost their meaning to the majority of visitors, perhaps even some of the temple-goers. You know for a fact that lots of the miko tending and aiding the kannushi in daily rituals are part-timers. The land of the gods is a godless land, tended to by unbelievers.

You frown as you weigh the gauntlet without its case. Spitting the pencil out of your mouth, you scribble some notes onto a worn notebook.

(cont.)

The COMP is a fascinating device, both in gauntlet and in mobile form. The Demon Summoning Program has little interest to you. That is Brady’s forte. Your specialization is integration, invention, application. You are not the archetypal Japanese inventor as much as you are the mad scientist of machines. Minus the lab assistant, budget, and absolute bankruptcy of morals.

The D.E.M.O.N.I.C.A. suits of armor…what you wouldn’t give to study one just for an hour. And going through the archives with MacKay found prototypes for a hybrid gun-COMP. A GUMP? You shake your head. That wouldn’t do. Given Adrian and Brady’s constant pop culture references, they would be more likely to run across the field of battle more than anything else.

But you shrug. Perhaps one day, you will be able to find the right weight for the GUMP to work. It would certainly be more efficient, to have both gun and COMP as one instrument. But considering the risks if it was destroyed, an agent would be without two vital instruments to defend themselves. Little wonder why they were discontinued.

Of all of your team, MacKay and Fitz are the best ones to wield them. Both are tough enough to handle anything that most demons would throw at them. Or fire, or spellcast, depending on the situation. They would be able to handle anything and keep the hybrid invention safe.

Ah well. The steam has always done a good job of letting your guards down. And it was genuinely fun, just letting everything wash away in the springs, stress, worries and barriers between teammates. They weren’t as good as Japan’s but they came very close. Very, very close. Not that you’ll say that aloud. Ever.

You set the COMP down, taking care to activate the alarm clock function before you pull back the covers. But nothing moves, no matter how hard you push. You sigh, flipping the machine over and unscrewing the backside. Just move this over here, and get rid of the limiter…and there it is. Now it’s fixed.

>>47619488
>get rid of the limiter
umm

>>47619488
>get rid of the limiter

She gonna be shouting Code Kirin now?

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>>47619488
>get rid of the limiter
Vicky, you mind not doing that? Limits are there for a reason.

You smile as you close the lid shut. Limiter only for the touch function. What a stupid name for the technicians to call it…so many possible misunderstandings.

With that out of the way, you return your gauntlet to your bedside table, leafing through the notebook to record your observations. Your mind is racing at the possibilities of what you could do as soon as you saw what they had to offer. The best technology, some of it not even available on the public market, let alone their own knowledge.

You eventually flip past the first page of the notebook, a faded image of a motorcycle. Yamaha, six cylinder engine, with a sleek and aerodynamic design to maximize speed. Your younger brother dreams of having Italian cars. Ferrari, Lamborghini, and all those big name sports cars.

You like other things, things with nuance and personalization. But it’s no less grandiose. And it’s certainly motivation for you to upgrade from your Harley-Davidson. It’s been a good and faithful machine, but it’s getting on in years. Some things just aren’t responding as fast as they used to when your father rode alongside with Hell’s Angels.

Everything must respond when prompted. Without hesitation or fail. Anything less is a defective product that must be replaced with something that does its job properly. Just like in automobiles, just like in all other inventions.

In chaos, there is nothing but trouble and dysfunction. It is unpredictable, exciting, but ultimately ruinous in all endeavors.

In order, there is nothing but harmony and peace. It is strict and rigid, but there is happiness to be found in simple things.

You know which one you like.

>>47619630
LAW
A
W

>>47619630
Victoria is a pretty big lawfag huh?

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>>47619630
>You know which one you like.

>>47619630
>And it’s certainly motivation for you to upgrade from your Harley-Davidson. It’s been a good and faithful machine, but it’s getting on in years. Some things just aren’t responding as fast as they used to when your father rode alongside with Hell’s Angels.

I don't give a shit if Victoria is a Lawfag or not, but this right here is FUCKED UP BEYOND BELIEF.

You do not abandon your baiku due to old age. You keep said baiku, care for it, give it what it needs, and continue to ride until it completely dies in a horrific wreck or you die first (or with it).

Fuck you Victoria.

Victoria confirmed fucked in the head.

hail lucy

>>47619700
Specially if it's a nice Harley.

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>>47619700
>>47619749
Technically, it's her dad's, not hers. Temporarily on loan to her until she can get one of her own. Gifted to Mister Yamane by a Hell's Angels chapter leaders for years of being a good mechanic: a 1986 Heritage Softail.

Writing...

>>47619630
I love how you have this sliding scale of alignments Kaz.
We got McKay the tradition god fearing Lawfag but the here we have Vicky who simply feels that structure and order are preferable
I like it
I like it alot

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>>Adrian

[Wednesday, July 3rd 2015, 7:42 AM]

You don't even need the aid of an alarm clock to get out of bed. Through some architectural marvel, the windows catch the sun just as soon as it comes right over the treeline and mountain ranges, and directs it right to the headboard of the bed. A natural way of waking up, and you don’t even feel tired.

It’s almost too bad that you have to get up from bed. You’re not sure what the fairies stuff into their pillows and mattresses, but whatever it is, it does your body wonders. Maybe that’s what you should ask from Titania as a gift.

Pft. Yeah right.

Already thoroughly clean from last night’s dip, the only thing you do is wash your face, change into new clothes, and comb down the unruly mess of hair into something presentable. Given the nature of today’s mission where you’re going to be heading into Lebanon, you decide to leave your combat armor and take only your handgun.

You meet up in the common room, where breakfast has been set out: fruits, breads, and glass pitchers of juice. MacKay is already working into a bit of toast, with the others quickly following suit. You all greet each other a pleasant ‘good morning’ before you dig into your meals.

As soon as you finish wiping the last bit of jam from the corner of your motuh, you address the table: “Okay, so we’re going into town today: three primary sites where the magnitite sensors spiked. Nash’s General, the history museum, and New Connections orphanage. By the end of the day, afternoon if we push it, we should have hit all three.”

Everyone nods. “Got any particular order, Sawbones?” Fitz takes an audible bite out of a Granny Smith, the sharp and crisp sound of the apple echoing across the room. “Where we should hit first?”

>American Historical Society Museum
>Nash’s General Store
>New Connections Orphanage

>>47620036
>American Historical Society Museum
Lets get there before an employee has another fainting episode yeah?

>>47620036
>American Historical Society Museum

>>47620036
>New Connections Orphanage

>>47620036
>American Historical Society Museum

>>47619863
>Technically, it's her dad's, not hers.

Don't care, still mad as hell.

>>47620036
>American Historical Society Museum
Orphanage last, let's not poke the hornet's nest until we're ready to deal with it.

Feeling at my limit now. We'll pick up the museum visit tomorrow morning. Feel free to discuss at your leisure.

See you guys in a few hours.

>>47620257
Probably going to pass too actually.

So I wonder how Brady is going to feel about Fusions NOW.

At least Titania doesn't watch humans sleep here.

>>47620257
Titania! High Pixie! Kimono! Why!

>>47617749
>>47617785
>>47617829
Remember when we were joking about everyone being Lucifer a few threads ago?

...Well, everyone is Lucifer. Still waiting for a Lucia Sefar or something to show up at the task force and everyone totally knows it's Lucifer they just play along to be polite.

>>47621953
Alger would try and shove another megidolaon bomb down Luci's throat

Bump

good night

>>47622800
I don't think we are sure yet that Luci is Observer.

Bump

Bumping for justice.

Still writing...

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>>47632057
DID SOMEBODY SAY JUSTICE

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“The museum is the one that’s givin’ me an uneasy feeling,” You say as you bring up the image of the location on your COMP. “We’ll take a look here, see if we can’t figure out which of the displays is giving off the strange reading.”

Brady nods. “Let’s hope the staff stays hydrated this time. It’d be a real shame if someone got heat stroke. Again.”

“Not likely,” You reply, smearing a bit of jam across a piece of sliced bread. “They’ll learn their lesson. If not, then there’s no hope for them.”
Wiping the corner of his mouth, MacKay says, “It’s alright to make mistakes, but only if you learn from them. Sadly, most don’t, but those are the errors of youth and foolhardy things. Then again, we are only human…”

>>Lebanon, Kentucky

The Cadillac had been sequestered in an alcove about thirty minutes of walking away from the main city. It bore the marks of a vehicle that had been outdoors, with dirt, and the occasional scorch mark on the undersides. But it was all purely cosmetic. For the most part, it still drove and handled just as well as one fresh off the assembly line.

As for the exit itself, you can’t really describe it. One moment, the fairies are guiding your vehicle towards a tunnel and the next thing you notice…you’re on a dirt road with no sign of the verdant forests or environments of the fairy realm in sight. MacKay assures you that they’ll be able to find their way again. Something about the magic only permitting entry to those who actively sought it out.

It kind of flies over your head, but you hand wave it well enough. It’s magic, and you ain’t need to be told shit.

(cont.)

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It takes Victoria twenty minutes to get back onto the main roads, and another fifteen of driving through morning traffic before you finally reach your destination. You take in the sights of the town, regarding the old-town architecture with an aesthetic eye. It is a far cry from the bustling cities, and nowhere near as gauche. There are some buildings and roads in desperate need of refurbishing.

Still, there is a certain charm to it. The best term you have for it is ‘time-locked’, a last monument to the transition between suburban and a fully urban environment. And the American flags waving about in the lazy morning breeze certainly aren’t a detractor. A small American town. Tomorrow’s Independence Day, and even you aren’t exempt from the small swell of patriotic pride at the stars and stripes.

God bless America.

You’re all in luck. Victoria managed to find a parking spot a block away from the museum. You quickly feed the meter for the maximum setting, three hours, and quickly sprint towards the entrance. But there’s little need for rushing. What people are already there are already being admitted into the building.

If it weren’t for the “WELCOME TO KENTUCKY” sign outside the door, you’d have sworn you were in Boston, or Philadelphia. The interior looks like something straight out of the revolutionary war. Most of it, anyway. There’s a dedicated section purposed for a late 19th century décor.

“What?” You say at your team giving you strange looks. “When you’re bored on a plane, you do what you gotta do to stave off the boredom. The architecture magazine didn’t leave me with any other options…”

>Choose one:
>“Alright, gang. Let’s all split up and search for clues…” [Everyone split up.]
>“Travel in groups, no one goes alone. I’ll take with me…” [Pick max of 2 characters to accompany you.]

>>47632878
>>“Travel in groups, no one goes alone. I’ll take with me…” [Pick max of 2 characters to accompany you.]
Vicky and Brady

>>47632878
>“Travel in groups, no one goes alone. I’ll take with me…” [Pick max of 2 characters to accompany you.]
victoria and brady

>>47632878
>>“Travel in groups, no one goes alone. I’ll take with me…” [Pick max of 2 characters to accompany you.]

>>47632878
>“Travel in groups, no one goes alone. I’ll take with me…” [Pick max of 2 characters to accompany you.]
Fitz and Brady.

>>47632937
Fitz and Victoria

>>47632878
>“Travel in groups, no one goes alone. I’ll take with me…” [Pick max of 2 characters to accompany you.]
Maybe I should flip a couple coins.
Eh Vicky got a PoV last night,
>Fitz and Brady

>>47632878
>>“Travel in groups, no one goes alone. I’ll take with me…” [Pick max of 2 characters to accompany you.]
Victoria and Brady

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>>47632906
>>47632925
>>47633093
>Victoria and Brady

The museum is split into three floors. Please select a floor for your group to explore. The other group will explore the other floor available for public access.

>Basement - Employee Access Only [Restricted]
>Floor One - Colonial/Revolutionary Era
>Floor Two - Gold Rush/Civil War/Wild West
>Floor Three - Attic, Bell Tower [Restricted]

>>47633138
>Floor Two - Gold Rush/Civil War/Wild West

>>47633138
>Floor One - Colonial/Revolutionary Era

Any shot at Victoria pretending to be foreign and "accidentally" wondering into the basement?

>>47633138
>>Floor Two - Gold Rush/Civil War/Wild West

>>47633164
Sure there is. Just be prepared to deal with the fallout. Victoria disapproves -15

>>47633190
Why is Victoria so fucking sensitive
Fuck damn it

>>47633138
>Floor Two - Gold Rush/Civil War/Wild West
>>47633190
Damn girl. What about Brady, he'd do it for laughs I bet.
'American directions are terrible. You all drive on the wrong side of the road after all.'

>>47633138
>Floor Two - Gold Rush/Civil War/Wild West

>>47633138
>>Floor Two - Gold Rush/Civil War/Wild West

>>47633248
>>47633249
"That's a dirty stereotype!" She snaps, "And besides! Everyone knows it's the Chinese that's the worst tourists. Stupid idiots are so rude and uncultured."

Brady isn't the most eloquent person, as we've seen in this thread and in prior ones.

Brady has no desire to look like an idiot. As a matter of fact, both don't want to. It would take a very high Social roll to convince them without loosing approval. Though in Victoria's case, it would be minimizing approval loss.

Still, it's an option that's available if you don't find anything.

Writing...

>>47633322
Bah. No fun, either of them. It's just some museum attendant probably making minimum wage that they will never see again.

Shoulda went with Fitz and Mackay. Don't have the foreign excuse but 'I got lost' works just as well I'd imagine.

>>47633190
Fuck that then

“Architecture aside,” You continue, waving off their looks, “We’re going in groups. No one’s going alone. Brady, Victoria. You guys are with me on the second floor. Something tells me that we’ll find what we’re looking for up there. But just in case, Fitz, MacKay. Mind taking the first floor? ”

Fitz and MacKay smirk and nod, respectively. “Of course/Gotcha.”

“Let me know if you guys find anything,” You say as you head towards a well-worn staircase. Brady and Victoria follow your lead, closely trailing behind you. “And remember that we’re incognito. Technically. Try not to look too interested if something grabs your attention.”

“No promises,” Fitz snarks as she grabs museum brochures, passing one to MacKay. “Let’s have ourselves a fuckin’ treasure hunt.”

>>Second Floor

[Wed July 3rd 9:24 AM]

You flip open your Mobile COMP, and depress the button that activates the magnitie scanner. Gears and gyros within the device start to hum and whir softly as the machine boots to life. Once you confirm that Brady and Victoria have activated theirs, you motion for them to follow you through the exhibits.

“I’ll focus on the main displays,” You say, gesturing to glass cabinets and other miscellaneous protection cases prominently on display in the center of each room. “You guys grab the stuff on the wall. That way, we can get through it as quick as we can.”

They nod, and go about to their respective tasks, doing their best to try and blend in with the rest of the tourists and high schoolers doing summer assignments. As far as anyone could tell, they were just taking pictures of the various things on display. Auditory cues transmitted via headset would inform them of any anomalies.

While there are other periods covered in the initial starting room, the time period that dominates this area of the museum is the Gold Rush. Faded pictures of prospectors are propped up right next to their washpans and rusted pickaxes.

(cont.)

>>47633752
>“Let’s have ourselves a fuckin’ treasure hunt.”


Have I mentioned I love Fitz?

Fitz is love.

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There are other things as well. Rusted tools, replica hats, and other trinkets that a prospector would’ve carried. Chewing tobacco, candles to drive off ticks, a cracked magnifying glass, and a tiny flake of a gold nugget no bigger than your thumbnail. And no small amount of broken shaving razors.

Most of them are devoid of any sort of readings, but one object emits a dull aura. It’s nowhere near the intensity of the reading Brady had picked up the other day, but it’s significant enough to stand out among the rest of the artifacts: a tarnished compass, the name on the interior destroyed by the ravages of time, and pointing only seven degrees off north for all of eternity.

You frown, taking a picture for future reference. While insignificant, it might prove to be of use later on. You never know, but you’re not going to fall into the clichéd pitfall of dismissing seemingly unimportant evidence.

>Tarnished Compass Evidence acquired

The Civil War exhibit is somber as it should be, but still houses a few noteworthy relics. Gun casings, half-rotted rifle stocks, and other implements of war. There’s even a saber next to the picture of a Union Captain Cavalry leader. What a moustache. And there are other things as well, flags, faded uniforms, rosary beads and the like.

But they don’t seem to be emitting any strange readings. Just residual things, most likely caught by ambient proximity to whatever was reeking of magnetite.

The Wild West exhibit is where things get very interesting.

The moment you step foot into the room, the magnetite sensor starts going haywire. If it weren’t for the fact that the sensor was at the lowest sensitivity possible, you probably would’ve been hard of hearing for a good hour in one ear.

You shake your head to get the ringing out of your ears as you progress through the exhibit, eyes narrowed as you search for whatever the source is…

A revolver. Specifically, a Colt Peacemaker.

(cont.)

>>47634210
More than enough to kill anything that moves!

It sits innocuously on display, alongside a gun belt half-disintegrated by time. Tarnished bullets are on display, one cannibalized to show the black powder that would be used to send the ball flying. This isn’t the only gun on display, far from it, as there are others in display cases as well. Repeaters, carbines, and hunting rifles galore. Even a frickin' Bowie knife.

Why this one, though?

You dial up the sensitivity, and your face twitches at the image you see.

The energy signature that the scanner picks up is in the shape of a small handprint, no bigger than a child’s, wrapped around the barrel of the gun.

A very, very powerful demon was here recently, strong enough to leave a lingering smear of its essence along the gun. As well as not leaving any sign of its arrival on anything else, not even the carpet or any of the other displays.

Noticing the description right next to the display, you squint closely. Kindly on loan from the New Mexican branch of the Society…one of the first few models to be produced by Colt. Nothing noteworthy until you hit the last paragraph, a transcription of the etching on the grip of the weapon.

‘To my beloved A. With love from D.’

You frown as you snap a picture of both the weapon itself and the display. Unfortunately, the placard doesn’t have any idea who the ‘A’ or ‘D’ referenced in the gun are, but it’s assumed by archaeologists that ‘D’ was giving a gift to her husband, ‘A’. You’ll have to look into this. Probably send the image and the readings back to Central as well, now that you’ve got signal.

Your mobile vibrates with a message. It’s from MacKay.

‘Get down here now. We found something.’

>All of you head down now, no hesitation at all in your steps.
>You go, have Brady and Victoria thoroughly finish the floor.

>>47634502
>but it’s assumed by archaeologists that ‘D’ was giving a gift to her husband, ‘A’.
They have it backwards.

>You go, have Brady and Victoria thoroughly finish the floor.

>>47634502
>You go, have Brady and Victoria thoroughly finish the floor.

>>47634502
>>You go, have Brady and Victoria thoroughly finish the floor.

>>47634502
>You go, have Brady and Victoria thoroughly finish the floor.

>>47634502
>>You go, have Brady and Victoria thoroughly finish the floor.

>>47634502
>a small handprint, no bigger than a child’s
>very, very powerful demon
Alice? She was supposed to appear soon, although that might have been in 1875

>>You go, have Brady and Victoria thoroughly finish the floor.

>>47634765
Probably. That's probably O'Donnell's Revolver that Alice may have picked up/marked back in 1875. He must of gave it to Annette later.

Your heartbeat just happens to go a little faster as you shoot off a confirmation of his message. “Stay on this floor, I’ll be back in a moment,” You text Brady and Victoria, already halfway towards the flight of stairs. By the time you’re on the faded wood, you’ve already broken into a half sprint. It’s not bad, given how no one’s screaming. Yet.

But hey. Silver linings where you can find them.

MacKay flags you down from the room across the stairs, the pre-war colonial era exhibit. He looks no small amount of worried as you draw in close. “You have to see this,” He says.

He leads you down the room, past tittering couples and loud children, towards Fitz, who is giving one particular exhibit a particularly nasty version of the stink eye. It’s a series of parchment papers, delicately preserved in individual glass casings airtight and sealed from the elements. Without further preamble, Fitz grabs you and flips open her COMP, aiming the scanner towards the documents for you to see.

You blink, taking a moment to adjust, before your eyes widen dramatically.

A very familiar six-patterned star stares back at you, imprinted onto the vellum via dried magnetite. Demon summoning circles. A broken grimoire.

You push Fitz's COMP out of your face, immediately rushing to take a look at the placard adjacent to the display. You occasionally have to glance back just to confirm what you’re reading, just out of methodical habit. The six pages are a short treatise that details the medical practices of the era, dated 1724.

Written by a Joseph Putnam of Salem, Massachusetts.

======

Stinger coming soon…

>>47634990
Salem witch trials huh?

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>>Malleus

Grazing sheep scattered when I jerked the pickup truck onto a well-driven dirt road, crashing through a half-rotted picket fence that bore the sign “Trespassers will be SHOT” in big, bold, black letters. I hit the gas as soon as the tires came back onto the ground, plowing through night road with rabid killers on my trail, buckshot flying in the air, a beautiful but shaken girl in the shotgun seat and an empty carton of cigarettes. The truck veered to the right and the shaken girl screamed as I struggled to force the car back onto the road just before we would have turned a wide-eyed cow into corned beef.

I was beginning to hate West Virginia.

Shotgun fire had shattered my rearview mirror. I was forced to risk a glance over my shoulder. There was one car in pursuit, a pickup similar to the one that I was driving, which made sense given the fact that it had been parked next to them before I stole it. The only difference between them was that I didn’t have gun-toting maniacs in the trunk.

Buckshot sprayed through our surroundings, tearing through trees and kicking up dirt near the back of the truck. It shuddered as I applied more pressure to the gas pedal, hoping to put more distance between himself and his pursuers and decrease the accuracy of their guns. Shotguns only worked with close-range targets, after all.

“Is this your idea of a rescue?!” the girl screamed.

I glanced at her wide, panic-filled eyes, her slim figure and her blonde hair that was waving in the rushing winds. It came to mind that I should have given her something to cover up her hair. As it was now, it only served to make herself more visible as a target.

“This isn’t rescue,” I calmly retorted. “This is a deviation from a meticulously laid out plan brought about by an unforeseen variable.”

She blanched at the implication before her eyes narrowed. “Deviati- what the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

(cont.)

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I glanced down at the mobile in the cup holster. No signal, which meant no chance of calling for local law enforcement or other back up. And even with the COMP in my pocket, backup wouldn’t come for hours. I was doing this solo. Yet again. Dammit.

I sighed, wishing that I still had a cigarette left in the pack. My nerves were starting to fray and the girl wasn’t helping a single bit. “In case those words were too big for your brain to digest, sweetie, I’ll spell it out plainly: getting you out of the compound blew my cover to hell and back, and right now, I’m suffering the consequences.”

The look she gave me was withering. “My GPA happens among the top ten in my grade, you jackass. Don’t automatically assume that West Virginians have the IQ of rocks.”

I was in a terrible mood, and I was about to insinuate that being the top ten of something didn’t always stay the same when compared to the entire country. That was until I saw her hand twitching as if it was about to rear up and slap me. In the interest of driving as safely as I could within all the other external factors, I wisely kept my mouth shut. The dirt road was as difficult to navigate as it was without the complication of an angry passenger in the shotgun seat. Especially if said passenger happened to be of the fairer sex.

Our month-long investigation into a GOTEA cell had finally bore fruit when the details of a potential meeting site in the countryside of West Virginia reached my ears. As per the Inquisitor’s orders, I infiltrated the farmer’s compound where Robert Phearson tended to hide his dark secret from the rest of the country, running his group of demon worshipers from a place so remote that no one wanted anything to do with it. Well, anyone without a sense for the great outdoors.

(cont.)

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I didn’t like cases that involved human aggressors. They added another level of complexity into the job and tended to be unpredictable in their reaction to my presence. Case in point when an object exploded where the car was a few seconds ago. Great. Now they had molotov cocktails. I noticed the faint scent of alcohol, and wondered if one of the cultists was a moonshiner when he wasn’t a zealot.

I could deal with anything the supernatural threw at me without any problem. When I was only starting out in the business, I was hesitant to even consider harming a slumber party that had played Bloody Mary as a joke and actually summoned the crazed bitch to wreak havoc on the town

But then you see the worst that humanity can go. For all of our potential for greatness, we have equal opportunities for ruin and desolation. And the people that call upon the creatures of the night…sometimes, they’re darker than the monsters I’ve had to put down. They don’t regret their actions. They delight in seeing their victims suffer, whether or not they deserved it. By that point, they were just nothing more than monsters wearing the guises of men.

Eventually, I just stopped giving a shit about killing humans if they’d made willing choices to surrender themselves to the darkness. If the Man gave them free will to do as they did please, then they needed to accept responsibility for their actions and lie in the graves they’d dug for themselves. I was more than willing to play undertaker and bury them.

(cont.)

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But the girl had been unexpected. I’d found her tied up in Phearson’s closet and intended to leave her there to continue my investigation until her efforts to break out of her restraints gave me the idea that she wasn’t exactly a willing participant of the cult. That had complicated matters because my plan involved getting out of the compound without tipping off the cultists. For a second, I had genuinely considered leaving her there, but then it came to mind that by removing her from the property, I would be accomplishing his mission in a different way.

Well, that and the fact that in my heart of hearts, I wasn’t going to leave behind an innocent victim if I could help it. There were others like myself that operated without a care for collateral damage. I avoided that modus operandi as best as I could, but I wasn’t above admitting that I had carried out jobs in similar manners in the past. The nightmares still haunt me to this day and I have no desire to add more faces to the collection.

“Why were you at the compound?”

“Oh, I’m an unpaid intern,” She responded with a sarcastic tone of voice that teenagers seemed to perfect at such a young age. I could tell. I’d more than used it enough when mouthing off to my superiors. “I help with their finances, mortgages- what the fucking hell do you think?!”

I didn’t even dignify that with a response as I non-eloquently jerked the wheel into a sudden turn that came out of nowhere. She screamed in synchronicity with the tires as I fought for control over the skidding vehicle. For a terrifying second, the left side of the car came off the ground, but I managed to regain control, hitting the breaks for the briefest of moments. There was a thump as the wheels regained their traction before my foot slammed on the gas pedal to regain our previous speed.

The mooks in the back weren’t so lucky.

(cont.)

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Unaware of the turn, the lead car had plunged off-road and crashed into the forest. I couldn’t afford to turn around and look, but I heard a few terrified screams mingled in with the sound of snapping tree limbs (at least, I hoped it was lumber) prior to a brief and loud CRASH that cut off all the noise. The only sounds left in the air were the noises of my hijacked truck and the girl’s panicked breathing.

Sucks to be those guys.

I kept a firm foot on the gas as we reached a straight road. “So what’s your name?” I asked. “I don’t think I actually got to catch it in between all the crap that’s happened.”

She gave me a look before she tossed her hair and responded, “Elizabeth. Elizabeth Moore.”

That sent up a big flag in my mind. My thoughts went back to the poster I saw when I first came into town the other night, the one right by the gas station where I bought my cigarettes. “Hold the phone. The Reverend Moore’s daughter? The one that went missing a few days back?”

She seemed to take some sort of pride that I recognized her. “Yes. My father is the local pastor for our county’s congregation. Our family’s kept the faith for the town long before I was even born.”

No wonder the cultists took her. A presumably virgin sacrifice on top of bearing the bloodline of priests of the Great Will? That kind of quality was the kind of standards that many of the demon world would literally kill to have as an offering to their fell masters.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. And rescue you,” I brightly added. “My name’s Isaac. Isaac Howard. Mind if I call you ‘Liz’?”

“Isaac?” She frowned, scrutinizing me closely. My question sailed right over her head, so I assumed that her silence was a negative. “But…”

(cont.)

I sighed. “I get it, I get it…you’re confused because I’m Asian -Filipino if we’re being specific- with a Western name, and you probably thought that I had some out-there name. Didn’t you yourself just say that I shouldn’t assume that all people out West in the sticks are of lesser intelligence?”

She had the decency to look mollified before nodding with a tinge of red on her face. Elizabeth here wasn’t the first person to instinctively raise eyebrows or unspoken questions in response to my name. Hell, when I saw the name the Inquisitor had assigned to me, even I wasn’t susceptible from deadpan incredulity.

“Long story short,” I explained, taking a moment to change gears and even out my breathing, “I’m second generation. Baptized under Isaac, so I just kind of stuck with it. My other name's a little more difficult to pronounce."

I’ll take a moment disclaim that not all foreign people feel this way. It was my own personal interpretation of the circumstances that lead me to discard my given name and adopt another one. But she seemed to buy it, nodding in a confused sort of comprehension. Then she asked, “So what’s your other name?”

Before I could tell her to mind her own business, a hair-raising shriek tore through the night. It was an inhuman howl, a guttural below incapable of originating from a creature of benign intentions.

The air became thick with the scent of iron, and the taste of carrion filled my mouth. As I struggled not to gag, I could hear the sound of someone throwing up out of the window. From that, I drew two conclusions. One, Elizabeth had the courtesy to expel her latest meal outside of the car. Two, she was also experiencing the sudden warp in reality.

(cont.)

“Aw shit…” I spat out the window as I hit the brakes. The car shuddered to a grinding halt, coming to a stop underneath a cluster of oak trees. I shifted in the seat and gently tapped my passenger on the shoulder. “Hey, are you holding up okay?”

“Does it look like I’m okay-?!” Her retort was cut off by cut off by another wave of nausea that forced her to violently double over. I silently offered my support, pulling back her hair to ensure it didn’t get caught in the mess and using my other hand to gently pat her on the back.

Despite the situation, I couldn’t help but notice the faint scent of shampoo on her hair. And that her current disheveled state did nothing to hide that she had a very nice figure. I wasn’t one to assign ratings, but damn. She was up there.

I felt the beginnings of something stirring within me, but I forced it down with all of my will. Now wasn’t the time nor the place to let my hormones take over, especially with a reality-warping creature stalking through the woods. And even without the pressing concern of our lives in immediate danger, she was the daughter of a Presbyterian minister. I’m more than certain that doing the horizontal mambo with her was like flipping the Man off while slapping Him in the face. There was a special place down bellow for those kind of folks, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to become one.

I reached into the backseat and grabbed my backpack. It took me a few seconds to dig through it and pull out an unopened bottle of water. I offered it to her with a gentle shake. She accepted it with a weak “thank you” and proceeded to rinse out her mouth.

“Feeling better?”

She nodded.

(cont.)

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“Then make yourself useful and hold this.”

Elizabeth practically jumped out of her seat when I dropped the pistol into her lap. “If things go the way that I hope they do, then you won’t even need to use it,” I assured her as I reached for my own shooting irons. The grip of the weathered 1911 felt cool against my palm. “But if even more shit hits the fan, then it wouldn’t hurt to have you take a shot.”

“What the hell do you expect me to do with this?!” Elizabeth shouted. “I’ve never handled a gun before in my life!”

I stared blankly. “Wow. We’re really breaking out of cultural expectations, huh?”

The look she gave me would have scared the color off a peacock. Good. It meant that she still had some fire in her yet. Hopefully it would last us throughout the remainder of the night.

For Elizabeth, this was going to be the worst night of her life, something to be buried under weeks of intense therapy and long hours praying in the chapel.

For me, Isaac Howard, Devil Summoner of Malleus and retainer of Inquisitor Ivan Zolomerwich, this was my Tuesday night. And I don't even get hazard pay. Yippie-kai-fucking yay.

===========

Next session, we return to Annette and the rest of O'Donnell's Devil Busters. Featuring best daughteru.

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.

>>47635673
Thanks for running.

>Featuring best daughteru.
Obviously. Annette has her own Pixie after all even if it's electric blue hair variant.

>>47635673
Thanks for the run Kaz

>>47635673
>Featuring best daughteru.
Moh Shuvuu? Sweet.

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>>47635673
>Featuring best daughteru.
TIME FOR MAXIMUM CUTE!