Like it or not, you’ve got a job to do, and while you question the legality of it all it really can’t be much worse than working on the docks. Before you left you noticed a clock on the wall behind the bar reading 11:17 on it. You’ve got enough money to pay for bus fare now, but you’re not entirely sure you want to spend it on the bus. Since leaving what little money you’ve got stashed at your trailer you’ve got exactly nothing in your pockets. The dairy cream probably won’t take more than an hour to an hour and a half to reach on foot. The sun is out now, so you shouldn’t have as much to worry about from the gangs inhabiting the city, and besides, you’ve got the power to defend yourself now should you get jumped again. If you’re being honest with yourself, you almost relish the idea of taking apart some gang members that try to attack you.

That thought brings up the subject of that dream you had last night. You’re still not sure what to make of it. For the life of you it really seemed like the Archangel Michael was speaking to you and telling you to seek vigilante justice on the 301 Street gang. Whether the dream was real or not, you don’t deny your desire to take retribution from them. You’d really be doing the world a service.

You start walking down the street, only to remember your recent development with your body. Looking down at your arm informs you that the pure white tattoos quoting bible verses are still there, though the glowing isn’t really noticeable anymore. You roll down your sleeve to hide it, and then the other sleeve when you confirm your right arm having several noticeable fresh healed wounds with bad stitching on them. You recall Tony mentioning your eyes being weird, so you turn around and head back into the bar and ask him if he can spare some sunglasses or something.

“What do I look like to you, a gas station or something? Go rob a store or something, or find a hat. Just do something, or some idiot will call the dog chasers on you as soon as they see those eyes of yours. Now git.” He yells at you in response. He really is helpful.

>Ask Tony something else before you go.
>Catch a bus over to the dairy cream. You’ll find something when you’re there.
>Walk to the drop. You’d rather save your money, and you can find something to hide your eyes on the way.
>Head to the 301st street. You’d like to settle that score sooner rather than later.
>Write-in

Tell Tony he should use tinder to hook up with strange men instead of sending us to pass notes likes its fucking grade school.

Leave the bar.

Head to the bus stop and hitch a ride to the dairy cream but dont go inside just yet. See who's in there from across the street, better yet see if anyone's looks like they're hanging around by all alone by themselves like a sad bastard.

And see if they're reading a newspaper...

>>388010
>>Walk to the drop. You’d rather save your money, and you can find something to hide your eyes on the way.
Higher chance of happening upon a store or some thrown out shades or something

>>388010
>Walk to the drop. You’d rather save your money, and you can find something to hide your eyes on the way.
If we happen to come across some thugs along the way then we can dispense some justice

Do we at least know how to make a proper knife now?

>>388124
Yes, the pastebin would reflect this if SOMEBODY wasn't lazy

>>388062
>ur a faget

>>388096
>>388107
>These boots are made for walking

One of us is writing.

>>388124
You got a regular success on that roll despite the nat3, so yes you can make knives that cut things now. Somebody that wasn't me forgot all about updating the pastebin.

You're taking an hour long walk, so that of course means it's time for random encounters.

Roll 1d100. Taking the first result.

Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>388178

Shoving your hands in your pockets you turn and step out of the bar, deciding you’ll save the money for a rainy day. Looking at the street sign you walk down the road that will lead to the dairy cream where you get to play mailman. Kicking idly at the various rocks and pieces of crumpled paper that end up in your path you make a good pace down the sidewalk. Coming up to a corner where a kid is hawking a newspaper you consider buying one while also wondering why they still pay people to sell newspapers. Before you can reach a decision he turns to you and begins raving about the day’s paper “Unknown Bruiser/Flyer type mutant steals First Independence Bank’s vault leaving two guards dead and several civilians in critical conditions, read all about it in The Daily Michigan!” That's actually fairly interesting you decide, digging the twenty out of your pocket you go to ask the kid if he can make change, as you open your mouth his eyes shoot wide with fear and he drops his papers and starts running. Remembering instantly you’re very obviously a mutant now you mentally chastise yourself for forgetting such an important fact. Stooping down you grab one of the papers and stuff it into your jacket.

>Free newspaper x1 gained

Standing up you notice those nearby have started to stare at you having noticed your little exchange and your technical theft, you quickly shove past them and speed walk away from them hoping none of them saw why the kid ran and call the pound. You nearly have a heart attack as a scruffy man with striking grey eyes grabs you as you pass an alleyway and pulls you into an atrocious smelling hug. “I’m so glad you’ve found the way boy, not many know of He Who Speaks.” You have no idea what that means. “Truly He has guided you to me so that I may enlighten you of his grace.” Oh right crazy hobocult got it. “He who has saved us down trodden few from the brinks of death and uplifted us unto new heights is deserving of the highest praises yes?”

“What are you talking about?” You ask quelling your normal harshness seeing as the man is homeless and possibly mentally ill.

“Don’t pretend you haven't met him, I can see it in your eyes and your hair.” His arm shooting forward he yanks on your sleeve and reveals the markings on your arm. “See, plain as day, He’s touched you and written his words upon you. Truly one of the better gifts that have been given.” Smiling he pulls off his gloves and shows off his polished bronze skin and lightly wraps on it causing it to give off a light ring. “He saved me from a bunch of hooligans who didn’t take kindly to me not having a proper place to sleep at night. They had broken both of my arms before dousing me in gasoline when I had awoken.” Fucking christ this dude is serious isn’t he? Is there just a cult of mutants? The man’s head quickly whips around as he stares into the air down the road he shoves a crumpled piece of paper into your hands. “They know, come to where that tells you and we’ll talk more later. Watch for the hounds they have strong noses.” Finishing with his speech he dashes down the alley knocking over trash cans and boxes as if warding off some imagined purser.

You wish you could just live a normal life, but you guess the cool powers makes up for the insane people accosting you. Looking at the trash that litters the floor from his mad dash you consider searching for a pair of sunglasses to hide your eyes.

>You’ve dug through worse for less, get to work.
>There’s probably a store down the block, make a quick trip there instead of digging through trash.
>You don’t have time for this, get back to what you’re supposed to be doing.
>Write-In
My horrible write speed is definitely not my fault

>>388634
>>You’ve dug through worse for less, get to work.

>>388648
>Another man's trash

Roll me 1d100 to determine what you get.

Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>388689
In that case.

Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>388689
the time between updates makes it really hard to vote

>>388722
https://github.com/ccd0/4chan-x
Step it up kouhai

It’s not like you've never dug through trash before; money isn’t always easy to come by, especially when no one wants to hire a teenager and those that do aren’t always on time with paychecks. With this in mind, you walk towards the garbage cans that weirdo knocked over and take a quick look around to make sure no one is watching you. Seeing no one, you start pursuing the trash knocked over onto the sidewalk. It was already knocked over, so there’s no harm in digging through it, right?

You don’t find much there; mostly just some old food scraps and packaging. You find an old potpan which you might actually consider using at home, but you won’t be going back to your trailer for a while and don’t want to carry it around so you put it aside. What you’d really like is something to hide your eyes so it isn’t immediately apparent that you aren’t entirely human, but you aren’t having a whole lot of luck on that front. After searching for a good 10 or 15 minutes, you turn up an old baseball hat somebody’s thrown out. It’s not even stained and it doesn’t smell to bad, so you’ve got that much going for you. A hat isn’t ideal, but if you pull it low and keep your head and eyes down you ought to be able to get walk down the street and get through some basic interactions without immediately tipping anyone off.

With your new hat donned you take off, having no desire to be caught and yelled at by someone for going through their trash. It takes you around 40 minutes to get there, but you finally arrive at the dairy cream you’re supposed to be delivering your letter to. You managed to do so without anyone reacting to your eyes, so you’d guess your hat is doing it’s job. You still want sunglasses though. Maybe Nigel has an old pair lying around he can donate since he decided to volunteer you for this job.

The dairy cream is an outdoor affair, with a little shack containing the machines and some teenager suckered into working it and some tables with umbrellas scattered around it. You don’t even wanna guess at how many times it’s been broken into over the years. The place isn’t too busy right now; only a few tables are occupied, and none of them are the leftmost table you’re supposed to meet the guy at. You’ve still got some time before you’re actually supposed to meet him, and you’ve no idea if he’s actually here or not.

>Get ice cream and sit at the table as planned. He’ll show up eventually.
>Find some place across the street stake out from and wait until 2:00pm.
>Write-in

>>388823
>>Find some place across the street stake out from and wait until 2:00pm.

>>388823
>Get ice cream and sit at the table as planned. He’ll show up eventually.

>>388823
>Write-in

Wait until about 1:50 and then go get ice cream, don't want to risk it melting in the meanwhile

>>388846
I scream you scream

>>388833
>>388881
>Play super spy

>>388881
I'm counting this as stake out since that's pretty much would stake out would have entailed in the first place.

You take up position across the street and lean against the building pulling out the paper you ‘borrowed’ and start intensely watching the place. There’s a tired looking mother and her hyperactive kid who’s face is essentially made of ice cream at this point, definitely not your guy. A man with dark sunglasses sits with a paper folded on the tabled talking into his phone rather heatedly though you’re too far to hear what about, you’ll mark him down as a maybe. A bean pole of an old man sits reading the paper with an ever present scowl on his face, you doubt its him but you’ll make not anyway. Scanning your eyes over the place you find the large majority of the patrons are reading a paper, those that aren’t don’t look like the type anyway. Feeling rather dull for not considering how common having a paper is you look up to the clock hanging on the front of the dairy cream and realize you’ve spent a rather long time just people watching. Folding your paper and reminding yourself to give it a read at some point, you head to order a chocolate and vanilla cone with sprinkles like Tony told you to and sit at the leftmost table while you wait for your man to show up.

At 1:59 a man walks down the street and heads straight to you, he sits quickly in the seat across from you and gives the table a few taps. “Hey Jake, how you been buddy, I didn’t manage to get you your daily paper like usual hope you don’t mind. You got those papers I needed?” That's not horribly suspicious at all. The man with the dark shades certainly seems to agree with you as he turns his head towards your table.

“Ah, come on now Brian, you know how much I enjoy reading the paper when we’re at lunch. Why couldn’t you get it?” You hope that wasn’t too loud or obvious, you aren’t exactly experienced at this covert shit. The man with the shades takes off his one defining feature and starts speaking in a much quieter tone, he's either the real guy you’re supposed to meet, or a fed, neither of those is comforting.

“I’m real sorry Jake, I just couldn’t find a paper, all the machines were empty and there weren’t any paper boys on the way. I guess people are buying them up to hear about the bank heist. But that’s not important. I need those papers man, and quickly if you don’t mind.” He looks around obviously nervous as he taps at the table insistently. And you thought you were bad at this, Is he trying to draw attention?

>You were told to bring the letter here and give it to the guy, this is probably the guy.
>There's no way in hell this is your guy, tell him to fuck off, you’ll wait.
>Stand up and leave, the deals obviously gone to shit.

>>389141
>>Stand up and leave, the deals obviously gone to shit.

>>389170
>Fuck this, I'm out.

Writing.

>>389141
>Stand up and leave, the deals obviously gone to shit.

This is most definitely not your guy. You have no idea what this is, but you want no part in it. It could easily by a fed or some rival gang or something. You don’t even know who you’re working for on this, really. You get up to leave without saying a word. Brian doesn’t take this very well.

“Jake, wait. I’m serious man, it’s me, I just couldn’t get a paper. Jake!” He starts shouting as you quickly move out of the scene. “Get back here you asshole.” He starts coming after you, but before he can get very far the guy with dark shades gets up and punches the guy in the throat as he’s moving past him. Brian hits the floor and begins gasping for air as he rolls over. He seems pretty out of it.

The man looks at him and then looks at you “Looks like someone is trying to get in on this deal.” This might be the real guy you’re looking for. Or it might not be. You still don’t have any actual way of identifying the man you’re supposed to meet; this could just as easily be another rival faction. You have no idea how deep this rabbit hole does.

>I take it you’re the real guy I’m supposed to meet?
>Keep walking. The deal is a bust whether he's the real guy or not.
>Write-in

>>389287
"No idea what you are talking about, this guy was just being a creeper."
>Keep walking. The deal is a bust whether he's the real guy or not.

>>389287
>I take it you’re the real guy I’m supposed to meet?
He had the paper.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>389297
>Be a real oper8r

>>389351
>You're probably the guy.

Simone was distracted by her fetish for flaming dildos. Post soon, promise.

Yeah this is probably the guy, he had a paper when you were watching and he took notice the second the poser showed up. “Thanks for stopping that weirdo, here take this as thanks.” You say taking the letter out of your jacket. “I can’t believe someone would just butt in on someone else's lunch meeting like that.”

“Some people just don’t know better.” He replies taking the envelope from you with a nod. “Oh and here, you dropped these.” Grabbing his glasses off the table he pushes them into your hand before drawing you into a hug. “I’ll talk to you later Jake, tell my uncle I said hey.” He says far too loudly before whispering “Next time just bail, we would have set something up later, and wear the glasses; your eyes are a lot worse than mine.” As he goes to pick up your mutual friend you catch a glimpse of his eyes which are rather disconcertingly empty pits. As he walks away whispering into Brian’s ear you realize you should probably get going too, this was a rather big scene. Sliding on the shades you walk the opposite direction and contemplate your next move.

>You’ve finished your first job. Now it’s time to go do your second. Head to 301st St.
>Walk back to Tony’s.
>>Take a bus instead. You’ve earned a break.
>Check out that address the cult guy gave you earlier.
>Write-in
>>389473
Don't you kink shame me

>>389510
>You’ve finished your first job. Now it’s time to go do your second. Head to 301st St.

>>389510
>You’ve finished your first job. Now it’s time to go do your second. Head to 301st St.

Time to fuck some folks up

>>389512
>>389522
>DEUS VULT

Writing. This will probably be the last post.

You decide it’s time to to go address those “men of ill intent” the Archangel spoke of. You already killed maybe eight or nine or them; it’s time to finish off the rest. If you recall correctly, the angel implied that killing them would lead to you finding “the tools to deliver further justice” or something. Maybe he was talking about increasing your powers? That would be pretty useful, especially if you decide to do this again seeing as you can’t seem to make more than a knife right now.

With this in mind, you begin heading towards 301st street. You remember the place well seeing as you died there three nights ago. It doesn’t take you long to get to 301st, but finding the men themselves may take longer. You decide to start with the alleyway you died in. You remember cutting through it on your way home that night only to get jumped partway through. The gang probably has a base nearby there.

You find the alleyway, but it’s been closed off by police tape; you can make out a few officers inside of it. Oh yeah. You killed like nine people there that night. The memories are pretty hazy, but you’re pretty sure it was a bloody affair. The police must have had a fun time scrapping their remains off of the pavement. Memories of the last time you decided to hang out at a crime scene, not to mention Nigel’s words to you shortly after, tell you that you’d rather not trespass again; at least not with on duty cops there.

Slightly annoyed, keeping your eyes out for anyone who matches the description of a 301 gang member. It’s not as easy as you thought it would be. After walking the length of the 301st street you double back, intent on finding somewhere to sit and watch. As you’re walking back, however, you notice three guys walking on the opposite side of the street together that match your admittedly poor description. They’re all black, very loud and wearing the same color scheme: yellow and black. You continue walking, making sure to leave the street and some vertical distance between you. After a while, they turn down a side alley and stop at a door. You keep walking to make sure they don’t notice you and then cross the street when they’re out of sight. You get to the corner of the alley and peek your head out a little. One of the three knocks on the door in a specific pattern; you don’t hear what it is, but you do see him pausing at places as he knocks. After a moment, the door opens and three men enter the building. It looks like you’ve found one of their bases.

>END THREAD

>>389620
Thanks for running

We got more than three posts done in this thread, so I'd call that a success. Unfortunately, the rest of this week is looking pretty hectic for me, and next week is even worse. The week after that I'll be lucky to get out of alive. Weekends are most likely off the table too. I don't enjoy it, but it may be a while before we have another thread. I'll see if I can get away for a few hours to have a thread at some point, but don't hold your breath.

If you don't hear from me on twitter, assume I am KIA and have left custody of the quest to Simone.

>>389641

Thanks for running man and no worried, plus the board is slow enough that if you started one and then only updated every few hours or as responses came in it might work as well

>>389641
Thanks for running m8, sorry I was gone for most of it

Did it ever say HOW his eyes changed, or did I just forget?