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You let out a sigh – you remember you are her superior.

‘Murakumo, I don’t want you to take a course of action that I’m not sure you’re going to be able to follow-through.’ You say seriously – without vendetta, but with authority. ‘The way you’re practicing… I overheard, sorry, but – the way you’re doing this it feels like you’re going out there with the expectation that you’re going to be all alone.’

‘It’s just the gear.’ She says quickly. ‘I can do better with a better loadout – Shigure getting all the…’

She stops herself, rolling a shoulder.

‘Is this what this is about?’ It dawns on you. ‘You think I’m rewarding Shigure for doing what she did?’

‘You said it.’ She turns a little red. ‘Not me.’

‘Murakumo, you do know I have a system, right?’ You chuckle.

‘And what system would that be?’ Hiei, ever the busybody, puts her hands on her hips, grinning.

You, the Commander, look past the computer screen and straight at their audience of readers and Questers, motioning for the those who aren’t you at this particular moment to click the links at the top to find the set of rules. However, upon finding that no such links exist, you looks to Murakumo and Hiei, who both shrug and mouth profanities that have everything to do with the one who runs the Quest – namely, the moron who fancies himself a competent runner.

‘Well, the QM runs a vote and waits for a significant portion of them to get back to him before I make a decision on the final loadout after the Mission Rewards. That simple.’

‘Doesn’t that take time?’ Hiei sighs, looking right at the audience of Questers, wondering just why they would even bother with this kind of slack. ‘Shouldn’t he just run with what he has?’

‘It gives him a reason to slack off.’ Murakumo says knowingly, looking at the lazy QM, who in turn, gives her a rude gesture, the ungrateful witch. ‘He actually went out to play basketball last night and forgot to post, can you believe that?’

‘Lazy ass.’

‘Tell me about it.’ You, as the Commander, nod at the files again. 'A thousand things to do and he just pushes them aside.'

‘That’s just life, I think.’ Hiei nods sagely.

You turn back to Murakumo with a reassuring look.

‘Murakumo… I’m giving Shigure the upgrade because I think that she can make the most of it with what we have right now. Not because I think she deserves it more than you.’

Murakumo struggles... before conceding.

‘All right, I’ll go with your decision.’ She smirks. ‘But, seeing as this is about teamwork… why don’t you bring the rest of the Division into the fold. See how we can get things done as a team?’

>‘That’s… a pretty good suggestion.’ (Agree with her)
>‘I think everyone has their own thing, actually.’ (Turn her down)
>‘I’ll take it under review.’ (Take it under consideration MOVES TO TASK)
>Write-In

>>447923
>‘That’s… a pretty good suggestion.’ (Agree with her)
I mean we really should consult our division on this sort of thing. They've been doing this for years.

>>447923
That’s… a pretty good suggestion.’ (Agree with her)
thats a good idea
DDs are the team backbone on any op, if they cant work together we might as well surrender

i just checked the girls stats,
why shigure's special gives me so many bad vibrations?

>>447923
>‘That’s… a pretty good suggestion.’ (Agree with her)

> ‘He actually went out to play basketball last night and forgot to post, can you believe that?’

Heheheh.

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‘That’s a pretty good suggestion, actually.’ You nod, scraping your chin. ‘I wouldn’t mind more coordinated drills being run… what do you think, Hiei?’

‘You’re the Commander – I’m not even part of your roll.’

‘I’d still appreciate your input, though.’

Hiei’s shoulders quake slightly, before she trains her eyes on you.

‘Wouldn’t anyone?’ She smirks.

‘Please.’ You bow slightly, indicating for her to offer you a little bit more than a word or two.

Hiei’s mood doesn’t grow any lighter – in fact, she crosses her arms with a slight shrug – and her displeasure at the inquiry grows a little bit more from your less-than-authoritative tone.

‘Like I said, Commander, your team, your rules.’ She says neutrally, nodding to Murakumo.

‘Right.’ You run a hand through your hair as the both of them approach the edge of the tiles.

You turn to Murakumo, indicating your approval.

‘I’ll get it sorted out, then.’ Murakumo says with a satisfied huff, her guns twirling almost cheerfully. ‘I’ll have ‘em lined up as soon as possible.’

You put your hands in your pockets, watching her stretch with a small smile on her lips.

‘When you say as soon as possible, how soon do you – ?’

‘Shigure’s getting upgraded, so it’s not going to be today,’ She says nonchalantly, flexing a little bit more now, ‘and I’m not going to bother Samidare when she’s on her own warpath.’ You nod – you’d seen a little bit of that side already. ‘I’ll coordinate with Tenryuu – we’ll sort it out among ourselves.’

‘You’re not going to invite Nagato to your little session?’ You muse – you wonder how she’d take it.

‘You mean your little session – I don’t think a Sub-Commander like her’s going to like a Destroyer like me bossing her around.’ She adopts a scowl, imitating her superior’s stance and voice, ‘The pride of the Division and all that.’

‘When did I appoint you the head of this little dig?’

‘When you agreed with me, my dear Commander.’

That you definitely had implied.

‘Y – !’ You blink, a little agape – the sheer audacity this girl had. ‘clever girl.’

‘Ain’t I a stinker?’ She grins.

‘You deserve to be re-educated.’ Hiei groans. ‘I don’t care what the reports say.’

‘Well, seeing as you’re here for the moment, sir,’ Hiei’s words are ignored, and Murakumo slides a little bit backwards, doing a little twirl. ‘and I know how much you value giving me your own input…’

Was she asking you for advice?

‘Getting a little bit ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?’

Oh, yes she was.

‘Only when we have years ahead of conflict in our veins, yes we do.’

>‘What’re the general rules of combat for a Destroyer??’ (Inquire)
>‘Something that hits back.’ (Convince Hiei to lend her time [Roll:1d6 each])
>Precision/Distance
>Multiple Targets

>>447983
>Precision/Distance
I remember it being mentioned that destroyers are used to pick at targets and provide a killing blow, so working on precision is probably best.

>>447983
>Precision/Distance

>>447983
>>Precision/Distance
DDs finish fights or annoy, preferably finish, so they need precision

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‘I’d concentrate on distance and precision.’

Hiei gives you a tired look, while Murakumo herself raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

‘You’re giving her Battleship training?’

‘I’m not giving her battleship training,’ you turn a little red, embarrassed at Hiei’s inquisitive stare, ‘I want her to improve on her effective distance and accuracy – she’s not going to take much of a hit – no offense, Murakumo – and a suppression volley’s wasteful in the long run, even when she’s alone.’ You hesitate to go on, trying to remember the rest of the training module – you’d been horribly bad at the practical, but you do recall some key explanations of KanMusu properties in that crash course; at least, you believe that you do. ‘If she can practice getting some good headshots – !’

Hiei immediately breaks into laughter, embarrassing you… and strangely enough, turning Murakumo an equal shade of red, clutching her sides. Right now, she’s either suppressing her laughter… or getting just as embarrassed from Hiei’s barks as you were – there was something about having your heroes doing that kind of display that just put you on the spot.

‘Commander…’ the red-faced KanMusu utters, looking between her feet, shuffling on the water like your own feet would on land – now, you can tell… she looks thoroughly embarrassed.

‘You’re giving her basic training.’

Murakumo grumbles, crossing her arms, wordlessly looking away.

Now, however, was your turn to put your own words in – and do away with any shades of red.

‘Is there a problem with basic training?’

‘No, but – !’ Hiei’s grin doesn’t leave, and you find your frown deepening at the upturned edges of her smile.

‘Do you play any sports, Hiei?’

‘No.’

‘Then let me clue you in on a little philosophy my old PE teacher drilled into us – he was a jerk, but there was one particular phrase that really stuck with me.’ For some reason you find a little ire grow, like a weed; a growth, ‘Playing football is very simple, but the hardest thing to do is to play simple football.’

‘Do you know what that means?’

There is something inside of you that boils, something that reaches and reaches… it cries out. She had done you in, she had called you out on your inadequacy, your station, just because she had saved your life – !

Hiei casts a look, taking a step back… and you feel a niggling headache that had chosen an odd time to take an appearance and a vanishing act, all at once.

‘You said it was my call, and even if it’s the basics…’ you turn to Murakumo, rubbing the back of your head – that had been strange. ‘I’d like you to get to them as well as you can.’

She nods slowly and quietly.

You turn around, pinching the bridge of your nose.

That had been an odd finish.

3/4
>Look for KanMusu
>Seek out Officers/Staff
>District Management
>Write-In

>>448017
>Seek out Officers/Staff (fingers)
probably has some ideas on improments or something

>>448017
>Seek out Officers/Staff (Vice Admiral)
We haven't gotten a chance to see him outside of mission duties yet.

>>448017
>>Seek out Officers/Staff (Vice Admiral)

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You rub your temples, walking back up the stairs. That had been an odd – and by odd, you mean annoyed. Not with Hiei – you don’t know why you’d risen so badly with Hiei – but with yourself; she had probably just poked a little bit; a little prod and you’d almost snapped on her like some vicious thug. You rub the back of your neck as you reach the top of the stairs; maybe you did push yourself a little bit more than you should have the night before.

‘Com-man-der!’

‘Naganami.’

Naganami, clad in what can only be describe as a custodian’s uniform three sizes too big for her, folded and covered in soot, marches towards and past you. She gives you a wink and playful salute, humming as she takes her first steps onto the stairwell down, implausibly spinning and saluting as she does so.

‘Can’t talk, Commander – need to check up on the range!’ She says in a flighty, energetic tone of voice, disappearing from your view.

You give her a nod in return and make your way to the exit – maybe you’d see Fingers. He did want to – !

‘ARE YOU USING REAL SHELLS?!’ Naganami’s voice booms, shaking the very earth itself. ‘GET BACK HERE, MURAKUMO!’

Your shoulders droop, but you hurriedly make good pace towards the exit.

You don’t recognize the street and are too tired to wander around. You didn’t know much about this part of town and didn’t want to risk ending up in an alley, so you lean against the wall, crossing your arms and wait. You observe the block of shop-houses across the street, finding nothing of interest. It looks like a definite ghost town from this side; up and down the road you only see one soul, a…

Woman? What would a civilian be doing here all alone, even if it was mid-day?

The honk of a horn catches your attention, thundering from upstreet.

You hail the buggy, telling him your destination.

The woman down the street is gone when you try to get a better look of her.

He nods, and without much ceremony, you’re in the back seat of the buggy as he zooms along the road, avoiding bits and pieces with timing and precision, barely avoiding the blocks as he zooms past one street and into another rubble-laden one.

The Old Man’s influence, though subtle, is felt.

You stop in front of a familiar plaza, dropping out of the buggy with a shout of thanks – the buggy driver goes off without so much as an acknowledgment; with what this place had been, you couldn’t blame him from feeling apprehensive at just being around here.

‘What did you say about the Jays, ya bastiche?!’

‘Ya heard me, ya jonesin’ peacock – !’

A crowd is gathered, not thick or massive, but an audience, nonetheless, with two of your men slugging it out for their entertainment.

You watch the sickening crunch of a cross-counter… and not one fallen body between the both of them.

>Intervene
>Walk away
>Watch
>Write-In

>>448059
>Watch
if it gets bad we pull the rank and latrine duty for everyone

>>448059
>>Watch

>>448047
>>448054
Apologies to these two, but I'd already started typing 30 minutes into the prompt and >>448047 was the only voter then.

>>448059
Intervene
atrine duty for everyone
cant have them fighting liek this could get hurt and makes the rest of us look bad

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>>448076
No biggie. I'm fine with going to meet with Fingers too.

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Too tired to intervene, and raring to watch a good scrap,

You size the both of them up.

One of them was significantly smaller than the other one… but was built like a bulldozer, his muscles impressively built, much too hard-looking for someone of his size and supposed class. He was a full head shorter than you, shirtless and clad in a pair of torn jeans, his arms up in an orthodox stance, taunting the other man with a rude gesture using his nose and fist. Smaller… and definitely younger, you find.

He looked as though he’d just moved on up out of high school – down to the horribly dyed, styled hair.

‘Ya take it back!’

The other one was large – larger than you. He didn’t have the build or definition of his opponent, he was built like an everyday shift-worker; the Admiralty’s volunteer uniform was torn to accommodate for his arms – not that they needed any showing off, being as flabby as yours had been before. That didn’t stop him from taking the shorter man’s blow head-on, unable to dodge it as he had.

He scrunches his face as the pain hits, taking a swing at the shorter man. There’s no wait, no follow-up or gentlemanly bow in this scrap.

It is, after all, just another scrap.

‘Take that runt, man! Show ‘im the frickin’ pavement! Bedrocks rule!’

‘Jays don’t back down, shorty! Tear that crock up!’

A sense of deja vu hits. The crowd then and now seem to morph into one being.

The small one charges in again, swinging wildly – to his surprise, his lightning-quick punches are taken in by his bigger opponent with no issue, no fuss. He raises an arm, damning the recovery and ready to knock his foe down – the big one, with surprising agility, raises an elbow, bringing it into the small one’s nose with a force that likely held all of his weight. You’re amazed to see no tooth fly at the contact, as severe and brutal as it had been.

The small one staggers, tripping on a rock and falling – the big one zeroes in, mounting on his more well-built opponent, raining blow after blow with a hateful glare upon his bruised features. The one on the floor covers himself up as the merciless blows come upon him, one after the another.

After a good half minute, he knees the man mounted on him in the crotch, making him keel over with a whine.

He looks the part of a gutted pig more than anything else right now.

The small one spits out blood and saliva, raising his fist…

Only for Fingers to enter the ring, kicking the small fighter’s bottom, sending him sprawling into his foe.

‘Back to work, dingbats.’ He growls.

The crowd disperses, mumbling – the kneed man gets to his feet, running into the remains of a shop; the smaller one does the same, heading in the opposite direction.

It’s as though nothing had occurred.

Fingers regards you neutrally.

‘Didn’t think you were the type to enjoy a brawl, Boss.’

>Write-In

>>448095
>"I've had my fair share of brawls before. It's kind of nice to not be a part of one for a change."

>>448095
>sometimes you just gotta let the fight out off you, whats with the bedrocks and jays buisness?

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‘Can’t say I enjoy it,’ you reply with a grimace – maybe you should have intervened, after all, ‘but it’s kind of nice to see someone that isn’t me get a hook in the jaw, for once.’

‘Eh, I think I get it.’ Fingers doesn’t follow up, shrugging as he comes up next to you, hands in his pockets. ‘Just glad it ain’t you, huh?’

The both of you observe the district’s operations with a keen eye. None of the scuffle had petered over and the lot of them were already busy doing their assigned tasks – although, you do notice the short man from before arguing with a hard-hatted man, who was pointing to several fairies seated on top of a broken ledge.

‘Been happenin’ here since yesterday.’ Fingers pinches the bridge of his nose.

‘What happened yesterday?’ You blink – you hope there wasn’t another war in the works.

Fingers gives you an odd look, somewhere between apprehension and

‘Well, um… I dunno if I should – ya crackerjacks, that’s not where ya put that!’

Fingers is off in a dash, running over to several men hauling a bunch of wooden beams over their shoulders, shirtless and as dirty as the maintenance crew. Fingers, impressively, directs them – you don’t here the details, but as far as you can tell, they do listen to him. Five minutes pass and they’re off in the direction they’d come from, one of them giving you a passing glance as they do so.

‘You seem to have a good hold on things.’ You chuckle as Fingers stomps his way back to you, leaning back on the cement as he did before.

‘Nah, they’re usually a lot louder than this, but ever since we got the TV runnin’, it’s gone a little bit smoother, yeah.’

You blink.

‘How in the world were you able to get your hands on a television… with a reception?’

‘Maintenance guys were kind enough ta hook us up, yeah?’ He huffs, smirking. ‘Amazin’ what people leave lyin’ around in a panic.’ At your look, he raises his hands, like a student denying any wrongdoing. ‘Not like we stole it or nothin’! The old Boss couldn’t get it runnin’ an’ when the MPs came ta clear up the guns ‘n all that, they let us keep it! We only just got the TV runnin’, too!’

‘Am I correct in assuming that the TV had something to do with the fight?’

Fingers grimaces.

‘Jays beat Bedrocks by a run – there was allegedly a bad call on the ball, though, and ya know what with baseball… people can get a little crazy.’

‘You’re not one of them?’ You raise an eyebrow.

‘What are ya, nuts, Boss? O’ course I am!’ He proudly declares, thumbing his chest. ‘Ravagers since I was old enough ta crawl!’

‘It’s nice to have a hobby.’ You hold back a smile – he did seem a little more animated.

‘Hobby nothin’! 6-time Series Runners-Up. Home a’ the greatest pitcher ‘a ‘all time! That’s who we are, baby!’

>‘You wanted to see me?’
>‘Let’s talk sports, then.’
>Write-In

>>448148
Correction:

Fingers gives you an odd look, somewhere between apprehension and

to

Fingers gives you an odd look, somewhere between apprehension and embarrassment

Also, what is up with the Connection Error I've been getting the last 10 minutes?

>>448148
>‘You wanted to see me?’
lets hope the town doesnt burn when the finals come

>>448156
>Implying the Abyssal invasion interrupting a potential series-winning Grand Slam between two teams who had never won the Series Pennant before isn't enough to make the populace hulk out and roast their flesh over an open fire.

It would be legendary.

>>448148
>‘You wanted to see me?’
As a Cubs fan, I know sports banter on a spiritual level.

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‘Fingers, you wanted to see me about something?’

Fingers immediately adopts a serious look, before faltering in all of ten seconds – he follows this through with an alternate swing between a distressed expression and one of a man with remarkable fortitude and grit in an incredible end-to-end of the spectrum. You watch this, amused, as he finally caves, bending backwards and letting out a frustrated howl – several of the former gang members curiously observe the both of you; to this, you raise your hand and have them move along.

It wasn’t everyday that you saw someone break between one expression and the other; Fingers was a positive mess – so much so that you put a hand on his shoulder, a motion for him to calm himself down and bring his person back to the matter at hand, which he does, if only barely.

‘Uh, yeah, well, there’s two things I need to see you about, actually, Boss.’ He admits, his face purple and his throat suddenly, if his next actions are any indication, itchy. ‘The first one’s a little personal, so if I ask ya, would ya kindly not tell anyone I talked to you about it?’

‘Fingers?’ You raise an eyebrow, suddenly very worried at the behavior of your self-proclaimed number two; he may have been boisterous at times, but right now he was acting downright weird.

‘Well, the first one’s more of a personal favor, but would ya drop this off for me at Mamiya’s?’

In a swift motion, he produces a black envelope. Immediately, you feel a chill drop down your spine as your fingers pluck it – a feeling that you hadn’t felt ever since that amazingly embarrassing escapade in high school; the letter is a little heavy, despite being rather thin. You guess that it must have been folded extra-compact, holding it up to your nose and giving it a good look.

No name, no address and nothing to indicate it was to be given to anyone in particular… or traceable to anyone in particular. So eerie did it look you wonder, if for a brief moment, on the possibility that it had risen from the same depths as your Abyssal foes. It was unmarred, neat and very, very… rectangular

‘Is this an entry form?’ You inquire – it’s the first thing that crosses your mind.

‘Uh… yeah, you could say that.’ He hurriedly backtracks, struggling to go on. ‘Well, not exactly, but it’s more of a – well, whatever it is, it is what it is and it’s all it is, ain’t it?’

‘You’re not making any sense with this, Fingers.’ You declare exasperatedly.

‘I know I ain’t, just – just drop it off for me, will ya, Boss?’ He crosses his arms, looking defiant.

This was indeed a strange turn of events.

‘An’ don’t ya go nosin’ inta it, ya hear me!’ He raises a desperate hand.

>Pry (Roll 1d6 each)
>Give him back the letter (Decline TASK, moves on to 2nd piece of business)
>Agree to Fingers’s terms (Accept TASK, moves on to 2nd piece of business)
>Write-In

Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>448205
>Pry

But accept his request regardless. We're a cool boss like that.

Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>448205
>Pry

>>448205
>Agree to Fingers’s terms (Accept TASK, moves on to 2nd piece of business)
better not be anything bad, fingers

>>448211
>>448213
>>448214
I'm thinking I should have a reference on top for:

TASKS and Rolling Rules

Do you guys agree with this?

>>448217
Yeah. It would be nice to have the rules set in stone.

>>448217
dont see why not

>>448205
>>Agree to Fingers’s terms (Accept TASK, moves on to 2nd piece of business)

>>448211
>>448213
>>448220
>>448240
2 Tie, no Majority, therefore none-roll choice wins.

Coin flipped.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1D6xlxpzfqF_rC2iemL-OGhFkNK4uiy8PZdvjkkdVBPU/edit?usp=sharing

>>448242
What does MAJORITY and WIN mean?

>>448242
gotcha

>>448244
Majority means that more people need to vote for that option than any other options. In the event of a tie, it is not activated... UNLESS the it's the 1d6.

For the 1d6, 5 is all you need to activate it. Regardless if there's a million votes in the other direction.

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‘All right, Fingers, all right.’ You assure him, jabbing the envelope in his direction like a pointer. ‘I won’t pry. You want this in Mamiya’s hands, don’t you?’

‘HELL NO!’ He snatches it right back from you, to which you reply with a frown. His shoulders slump and he immediately offers the letter back to you again, which you take tentatively; you’d never seen him like this before, truly. ‘I – sorry boss, just… just leave it on the counter – I mean, just drop it off in the entry box or somethin’,’ he grows a little purple, pointing his finger right at you, as though in warning – you take it with stride, of course, ‘just make sure it’s in the shop where they can see it and pick it up.’

You grimace, pocketing it into your fatigues. You owed Fingers this much, the micro-manager that he was, getting your gang-members-turned-service-force to do as well as they have. You’d personally expected more than just a single fight and a few arguments, but it would seem that your self-proclaimed Number Two had a better handle on the matter than you had given him credit for when you had first met.

‘This isn’t a viral weapon or anything, is it?’ You jest.

Fingers gives you a flat look, hunching over and his hands in his pockets.

‘Boss, your jokes suck.’

‘What was the second thing that you wanted to talk to me about?’ You get back down to business.

The atmosphere immediately changes; Fingers looks around, as if suspicious at being overheard – he looks over your shoulder, almost comically, before turning around and giving the road towards the dilapidated mall a once over than right back at you, giving you a grim look and turning around.

Your curiosity piques as Fingers gestures with a roll of his shoulder.

‘Yeah, um, you mind following me, Boss?’

You follow Fingers with not but a nod, moving several units down the plaza into a luxury shopping unit that had doubled into what looked like accommodations for the former gang members. There were standard-issue sleeping bags everywhere, along with mattresses that looked like they could use a good cleaning, but who were you to judge? You had a working roof and hot water – and a leg of lamb to work with.

Still… despite your guilt, it didn’t look too – !

‘Don’t worry about us, Boss, we’re tougher than we look, honest.’ Fingers shoots you a grin as you make your way into what looked like a backroom. ‘Guys, Boss is here.’

There are five men huddled in the room, having their lunch and chugging down bottles of water.

‘Hey, Boss,’ one of them walks up to you, offering a crooked smile, ‘lookin’ fit, yeah?’

‘Hey, down to the point, will ya?’ Fingers cuts in, leaning against the doorway.

‘Boss… the guys’re being attacked at night.’

>‘By whom?’ (Inquisitive)
>‘Fingers?’ (Ask Fingers to brief you)
>‘Attacked? You guys?’ (Disbelief)
>Write-In

>>448273
>>‘By whom?’ (Inquisitive)
Fingers led us to these guys for a reason, it's probably better to get the story from them first.

>>448273
>‘By whom?’ (Inquisitive)

>>448273
>>‘By whom?’ (Inquisitive)
They don't deserve that.

>>448273
>‘By whom?’ (Inquisitive)
noone fucks why our boys, NO ONE

>>448330
What if it's starving children trying to steal food?

>>448333
then we feed the kids, duh

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‘Who?’

‘You’re gonna believe us, just like that?’ The man with the crooked smile looks at you with mild surprise, his eyes widening – probably with how readily you’d taken his word.

‘I don’t have any reason not to.’ You really didn’t – the type of goons they were… they wouldn’t have admitted to any weakness unless they’d been pushed that bad. ‘In any case, if there’s anything that’s happening to you folks, at then end of the day it’s my responsibility, right?’ You finish up, sighing. ‘I brought you guys on for the ride… any way we steer this ship, I’m still the Captain – and I need to know my crew’s at a hundred percent at all times, don’t I?’

‘B – Boss…’ One of the men leaning against the broken larder at the back wipes away a tear at the corner of his eye.

You stand awkwardly for a moment, letting it pass over after and motioning the man with the crooked smile to explain further.

‘Well, ya see, it started just around the time ya came outta the hospital, see?’ He makes motions with his hands – you don’t make sense of them, but his word is good enough. ‘We was just hangin’ around after a night out – none of us wanted to leave the compound unless we got, ya know, really hungry, right?’

‘Yeah.’ You nod, gesturing him to continue.

‘Well, we always sent the boys out in twos – not ‘cuz we was scared or nothin’, but because, ya know, ya can carry more food back ta camp with two pairs a’ hands an’ all that.’

A skinny member of those present steps up – the most glaring thing about him the red mohawk he wore that clashed with the pristine Admiralty volunteer service uniform.

‘Usually we don’t go out at night… not ‘cuz we’re scared or nothin’, a’ course…’

‘Yeah, of course.’ Fingers tiredly agrees on your behalf, letting out a breath and muttering.

‘But one time we spilt over a few of the containers we brought back and we headed over ta Mamiya’s for – !’

You raise a hand.

‘Mamiya gives you food?’

‘Her and Irako, bless ‘em and ‘er souls.’ A heavily-tattooed man smiles fondly, crossing his arms and nodding – you notice the medical eyepatch over his left eye, which had a purple tinge around it. ‘Gave us a whole basket full’a bao when we asked.’

‘Never made it back, though.’ One man grumbles, banging his fist to the wall.

‘Some big guns attacked us on our way back – both of ‘em at night.’ The eyepatch-wearing man continues. ‘The first time we sent two guys, the second we went with four; both times they caught us, beat us up and took our food.’

‘Well, not that second time.’ The one with the red mohawk chimes. ‘That second time one of ‘em ate right in front of us.’

‘You saw them?’

‘Nah, knocked us silly, they did.’ He shakes his head.

>‘Suspects?’ (Inquire on probable perpetrator)
>‘Where were you attacked?’ (Inquire on location of attacks)
>Write-In

>>448391
>‘Where were you attacked?’ (Inquire on location of attacks)
my gut says yakuza remants or that mayor-or-something embezelling ass

but first where did the got beat is a good step and might give us a clue

comes to thing, whoever beat our boys must be a brick wall of a man or a organiced mob

>>448391
>>‘Where were you attacked?’ (Inquire on location of attacks)

>>448399
>>448400
>>448402
This next post is my last post for the day - sleep calls, and maybe in 12 hours I'll run again.

If I, of course, don't forget.

>>448408
Sounds good. Also, I've noticed that this thread isn't linked in the previous one, do you want me to do that real quick?

>>448411
Sure, if you can do that, thanks.

Oh, look, it's the next post.

Time for bed.

>>448417
'morrow

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‘Just where were you attacked?’ You zone in on the first variable of the event: the location.

‘Um…’ They turn to the heavily-tattooed man, who growls as he steps forward.

‘Most of the guys we sent out had ‘em at about halfway to the plaza, right outside of any patrols that would’a seen ‘em.’ He says simply – the statement only makes you more confused.

‘Patrols?’

‘The MPs have a sweep around the border of the district, but not all of ‘em come in – a lot of the pats stop about three or four blocks out.’ Fingers explains – you did not know that. ‘They don’t like us very much, ya know.’

‘Yeah, I can…’ You trail off, grimacing – you can definitely tell why they didn’t like Fingers and the rest of your men. ‘So you’re attacked about three or four blocks out?’

‘Well, not just there.’ The one with the mohawks chimes again.

‘We picked ‘em up three or four blocks out the second time – the first attack happened around the Northern part of the plaza, where the guys cut through to get to the hustle and bustle, yeah?’ The man by the wall puts his own tidbit of information in.

‘There’s a shortcut?’ You blink.

‘Well, it’s not exactly a shortcut.’ Fingers interrupts, walking to the center of the room and putting his arms wide, as though moving to embrace the whole wide world. ‘You gotta make your way through a bunch’a rubbled buildings and know which door to open and which street to take and you can get lost ‘cuz you think upstreet is west and – !’

‘So it’s a shortcut.’

‘Yeah, Boss, it’s a shortcut.’ Fingers sighs, defeated.

‘Well, we stopped taking it after the first attack – thought they were just a bunch’a scavengers or somethin’, but the next time we sent ‘em, you know, four blocks out, they beat the crap out of us – black and blue, yeah?’

‘Knocked us the Hell out, they did.’ The tattooed man growls. ‘Bunch’a sneaky pieces ‘a sh – !’

‘So, the first site of the incident is this alleged shortcut you guys take and the second is at the border where the MPs cut off their patrol. I got that right?’ You try to confirm with the both of them – if there was anything you could get, at least you had the scene of the crimes and a proper start.

‘Anything I should know about this place?’ You frown, struggling to note down the shortcut Fingers had pointed out previously – the supposed border didn’t feel like too much a chore to get the facts down on, in comparison.

‘Buildings are dangerous.’ The one with the mohawk nods again. ‘Might be unstable, even with the restoration goin’ on, so…’

He shrugs. That was it, really.

>‘Suspects?’
>‘Fingers, you got anything to say about this?’
>‘Well… I always wanted to play Detective.’ACCEPT TASK
>‘I think I’ll just file this in for the Admiral to see.’ DECLINE TASK

>>448473
>‘Suspects?’

>>448473
>‘Suspects?’
i can think of some, but i dont like it one bit

>>448473
>>‘Suspects?’

>>448473
>>‘Fingers, you got anything to say about this?’

>>448473
>>‘Suspects?’

File: YARE YARE KA NA.jpg (24 KB, 321x240)

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‘You guys have a suspect?’ The next line of thought hits you immediately – if you had at least a shadow of the target, you figure that you could eventually zero in on the bullseye. ‘Anyone at all that you think might have it out for you to pull these off?’

Truth be told, the attacks did seem kind of petty. If there was a message that was supposed to be sent across, you didn’t see it. From the description that one of your men had given, it felt as though the two attacks on two groups of gofers sent out to get food had been as random as the initiation of your scuffle with the Vice-Admiral. You have your suspicions at the moment, of course, but you feel as thought you could get a clearer picture of intent and action with more information on the perpretrators.

‘Nope.’ The man with the mohawk shrugs, looking as stumped as you are.

‘The MPs.’ The man with the crooked lips growls, crossing his arms and looking straight at you.

‘Oi, shut it.’ The tattooed man elbows the man with the crooked lips, making him shove him right back.

That is indeed an interesting accusation.

After all, from what you’d gathered… their patrols stopped at the borders – they could have been the ones in and out without anyone else knowing; because without them reporting it, who would?

‘Come on, man, ya know that they don’t like us one bit, yeah?’

‘Jus’ ‘cuz they don’t like us don’t mean they’re gonna drop us any time they think they can take – !’

He stops and turns to you, grumbling.

‘Actually, you know what, Boss? Yeah, the MPs are a good shot.’

He certainly didn’t need a lot of convincing.

‘Why the MPs?’

‘Well, they don’t like us.’ The one by the wall offers, grumbling louder than the tattooed man.

‘We kinda pushed ‘em around a bit before ya took over.’

That would have been an understatement, considering how you’d seen the men operate and how the remaining townsfolk had cowed to them in favor of the Admiralty’s authority. You’d seen them and their penchant for aggression first-hand; you had the eyepatch to remind you and the memory of a bullet hole too clear for your liking.

‘That, and I think they think we’re the guys who… well, shot their dudes, yeah?’

The whole room shuffles uncomfortably. You, more than the rest – especially considering you’d been there when that ugly business had gone down.

‘What about the stragglers?’

‘Stragglers?’

‘The ones that didn’t join up. They’re still around, but… they’ve been quiet, yeah?’

‘Ya gonna throw a noose ta yer bros? Really?’

The whole thing breaks down into a verbal melee, although by Fingers’s reaction, it was probably a casual enough occurrence for you to let slide.

>‘Fingers, you got anything to add?’
>‘Well, I always wanted to play detective.’ ACCEPT TASK
>‘I think I’ll just file this.’ DECLINE TASK

>>450689
>>‘Fingers, you got anything to add?’

>>450689
>>‘Fingers, you got anything to add?’

File: Lemme At It, Boss.jpg (8 KB, 193x81)

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‘Fingers, you have anything to add to this?’ You look over to Fingers for some input.

‘Yeah.’ His reply is immediate, and it immediately quiets things down among the arguing men – for that, at least, you’re thankful with him being around. ‘We do it my way – leave the bait out and knock ‘em what for. Black ‘n blue, one for one.’ He shoots a maniacal grin across the room, wider than anything you’d seen from him before. ‘Like I wanted to.’

Surprisingly, the first reaction from the lot of them to the declaration is a collectively flat stare; a thoroughly unamused, bored and disapproving meeting of eyes between Fingers and the rest of them.

‘We said no, baldy.’ They say in chorus.

The reaction from Fingers is immediate.

‘IT AIN’T BALDY, IT’S SHAVED!’

You almost part your lips to ask just how smooth a shaved head could go, but decide against it.

The last thing you needed was your big fat lips starting a gang war.

‘Anyway, guys, if word gets out we got beaten up by the MPs, they’re gonna swarm on us like flies ta shit!’ Fingers declares with a stomp onto the cement floor, his face scrunched into one at the tipping point of vexation, teetering into an explosive release.

‘I think the correct phrase is flies to honey, Fingers.’ You rub your temples – you’d trusted him to remain cool and drop his own points in – not to fly off the leash as he had.

‘Ya know what I’m gettin’ at.’ He cools down, somewhat, crossing his arms and turning to the men. ‘Come on, guys, we’re the toughest bastiches in town – let’s just show ‘em that we ain’t just a bunch’a balls-cut pushovers, yeah?’

‘What the Hell, Fingers?’ The one with the eyepatch raises his hands, as vexed with development as you are, it would seem. ‘We already said we wanna keep it quiet!’

‘It’s just sense! They knock us fer a round, we knock ‘em right back – that’s how we do things, right?’

‘Fingers, ya dunce, we’re legit now.’ The one leaning by the wall lets out with a rumble. ‘Think of what the Boss is gonna go through if we do it our way, yeah?’

‘Ya only sayin’ that. Ya gonna keep that temper ‘a yours when we find ‘em, big guy? Nah, I don’t think so.’ Three of them snap at the testy accusation. ‘We’re legit – and we got a cause, and the Boss is here for us and we’re here for him, right? Everything else is friggin’ collateral.’

None of them reply directly, mumbling.

‘Besides, if anythin’ bad happens, I’m the only one that’s gonna get a knock on it in the end. Dogs and their hydrants and all that jazz.’

Fingers turns to you with a smirk.

‘Come on, Boss, this ain’t for yer hands. I can take care of it.’

>Let Fingers do it his way. DECLINE TASK
>‘I’ll look into this.’ ACCEPT TASK
>‘The best I can do is file a report.’ DECLINE TASK

>>450767
Correction:

His reply is immediate, and it immediately quiets things down among the arguing men

To

His reply immediately quiets things down among the arguing men

>>450767
>>‘I’ll look into this.’ ACCEPT TASK

>>450767
>>‘I’ll look into this.’ ACCEPT TASK
Y-You kinda came to me about it though.

>>450767
>‘I’ll look into this.’

>>450767
>>Let Fingers do it his way. DECLINE TASK

File: You Wish You Were This Cool.png (190 KB, 630x429)

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‘I’ll look into this.’ You wave off Fingers’s suggestion, to which he lets out an audible groan, clearly displeased with your course of action. Undeterred, you step up to the middle of the room, giving them a reassuring glance. ‘You have my word on it.’

There’s an awkward silence that comes upon the room. Each and every one of your men stare at you as though they’re looking at something otherworldly – alien – you wonder if what you’d said had any double meaning to it, scanning back to them to check if that had been the case. No, you had been clear and concise with your promise of dedication to the task; nothing more and nothing else.

After what seems to be a long while, they look to each other, smirking; some of them even lightly snickering – and right back to you, giving affirmative nods.

‘Thanks, Boss.’ The one with the eyepatch says sincerely.

‘You’re the best, Boss.’ The heavily-tattooed man gives you a thumbs up.

With that said and done, you give a salute – to which they, in reply, get to their feet and hurriedly give their own, awkward and clumsy as they are. You walk back out with Fingers right next to you, pondering the next course of action to take.

Your men had been attacked trying to bring back food.

The thought of it makes you scrunch your face in repulsion.

‘Does anyone else know about this, Fingers?’ You inquire, stepping back out into the sun.

‘Nah, the guys want to keep it quiet – don’t wanna have a bunch’a the batties out on the street, if you catch what I’m saying.’ Finger replies, scowling as he throws a glance back at the building you just exited. ‘Against my better judgment…’

It hits you just what it is that needs to be done on the immediate basis.

‘I’ll do what I can. Meanwhile, have a curfew enforced – no one leaves after dark, no one gets in after dark.’ You turn to Fingers, who gives you a curt nod. At least with that, you could keep anymore of them from being hurt. ‘If they’re still hunting the men, they’re not going to get to them without getting in here.’

‘Ya sure ya wanna do this?’ Fingers inquires, almost tiredly. ‘I know ya got a million other things on the table, and – !’

You give him a look.

‘Right.’ He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck and fixing his eyes on his shoes. ‘Fine, yer Big Boss, after all. What’s the game plan?’

You bring a fist under your chin. You had promised to investigate the attacks among other things, that upon realization, are very much are on your plate as much as your previous declaration.

It doesn’t take much to hit you that as of now, you are one busy bee.

‘Well, boss?’

2/4
>Execute TASK: Investigate the Attacks
>Execute TASK: Deliver Letter to Mamiya’s
>Execute TASK: Meeting with Takao
>Look for KanMusu
>Seek out Officers/Staff
>District Management
>Write-In

>>450904
>Execute TASK: Investigate the Attacks
Let's have a look at the points of attack.

File: admiral noir.jpg (76 KB, 300x400)

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>>450904
>Execute TASK: Investigate the Attacks
no time like now, we should look were the boys got attacked, for clues and such

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>>450904
>>Execute TASK: Investigate the Attacks
Well shit. I wish I hadn't missed the previous votes. Now we've got three tasks and only two time slots, so we're either going to have to let down Fingers or Takao.

>>450935
Don't blame me. You guys wanted something to do.

t. Last Thread

>>450937
Yeah. I know. I just wish we could investigate the attacks at a later date while we do other things.

>>450945
we dont have to do EVERYTHING right now

exept takao, she sounded urgent or important

>Execute TASK: Meeting with Takao
Should be about time for that. Also we might be able to get her to drop of the letter to Mamiya's. Then we can investigate.

>>450945
I didn't say you couldn't. Unless noted, the Taslks will remain active. Except, of course, for Takao's, because she wanted to see you today.

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‘I’d like to get to the bottom of this as soon as I can.’ You admit, not feeling the least bit comfortable with the fact you had so much on your plate – maybe some better micro-management would help in the future. ‘Mind listing it all for me again, Fingers?’

Fingers takes out a pencil and notepad from his pockets, scribbling onto it for the better part of a minute. You open your mouth to ask just what he was writing, but as soon as you do, you’re treated to the – surprisingly neat – handwriting of your Number Two, the notepad shoved into your face, detailing the pointers that you’d garnered from your investigation.

‘Well, the first order ‘a business is the MPs.’ Fingers began grimly, going over his notes again. ‘The guys seem to think that they’re responsible for the attacks, so if you’re going to start questioning anyone, it’s them. Plus, if they’d been doing their jobs, there won’t attacks, anyway.’ He grumbles – if there were any confirmations of a grudge, however slight, they are there now. ‘I don’t really pay attention to the guys runnin’ the night shift – or the day shift, really. If you’re feeling Detective-y, you can ask for ‘em at the MP Station. You’re gonna have ta dig there for anythin’ else.’

‘Got it.’ You nod, letting it all sink.

‘Or, if you’re feelin’ lazy, you can ask for, you know… the stragglers.’ Fingers’s voice dropped into a reluctant tone, going through his notes again. ‘They’re a little bit harder to find, but a lot closer.’

‘Why harder to find?’ You inquire.

‘Well, they don’t like us very much either.’ Fingers admits with a sigh. ‘Sorry to say Boss, but not all of us wanted to follow you – these guys hang around in the more ruined parts of the town. They don’t want or like to be bothered.’ Fingers words sounds patronizing – before he looks thoughtful and frowns as he pockets the notepad. ‘Actually, weird enough, that’s actually where the first attack happened.’

‘You suspect them?’

‘I don’t have a list.’ He grins. ‘Just a bat that knocks any names on yours to the ground.’

‘That’s reassuring.’

The both of you walk to the edge of the plaza, where the rubble was now clear – the alleys themselves are still filled with broken stone and steel, a reminder from the attack, but you find that since you’d assigned the district to your men, progress was at least on course.

‘I can take you to the shortcut and the alley where we found ‘em if you want to fish for clues, but it’s a bit of a walk either way – we’re not gonna be able to double back between the points if you decide to go one way or the other.’

You let out a sigh – sometimes you wished there were 35 hours in a day.

>Talk to the MPs
>Find the stragglers
>Investigate the shortcut
>Investigate the alleged alley

>>451001
>Investigate the shortcut

>>451001
>>Talk to the MPs

>>451001
>Investigate the shortcut
proofs before any questioning, the police way

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‘Shortcut seems like a decent place to start.’ You decide, turning to Fingers and nodding.

‘Will do.’ He leads the way, walking onto a wide path.

You don’t say anything as you make your way there, your mind wandering at the list of probable suspects – or, rather than a list, it looked like a choice between one door or the other. Your men had been rather firm on the MPs being the responsible party – and they very well could be, given that the both of them shared an enmity that stretched weeks. Your men had been gang members – and their rambunctious attitude hadn’t done them favors back then.

Its a little strange that you could vouch the justification of the perpetrator as the aggressor upon an unwitting victim, but you’d felt a little desire for vindication going through your bloods from time to time, too. It wasn’t, at times, so easy to let go just because you were on the same side.

The last few weeks had pretty much confirmed that part of human nature.

‘Here’s the deal.’

You look up, seeing what looked like an avalanche of rubble – the top of two buildings cut off and pile into what would have been a road leading out onto the main connector plaza on the other side. If the size of it was any indication, you were cutting into the border of a residential area and a shoplot block or two.

You look to your left and right, seeing no roads going straight onto the other side of the rubble without a walk around – deeper into the city and further from the Admiralty’s conveniences.

‘So this is what you guys use to cut through?’

Fingers walks into the obliterated building – not that it had a door to open, gesturing for you to follow.

As you enter the building, an incredible stench hits you like a sucker punch in a dark room.

‘Cover your n – oh.’

‘What in the world is that f – !’

‘There’s a reason no one actually comes around here and walks down there. Sewer line’s uncovered just on the other side.’ Fingers explains, pinching his nose to keep most of the smell out. Although, from the teary corners of his eyes, it really didn’t do much. ‘Just keep walkin’, eh?’

You don’t need telling twice, maneuvering through the building and its abandoned tables and chairs.

It’s not long before you find yourself in a back alley… and where there had been a shop standing on the other side, a ruin that allowed you to cross right through on a free path to the beach front. Thankfully, the alley doesn’t stink as much.

‘So, ya finally decided to check up on us unfortunates, huh?’

You turn around to see a scowling old woman, clad in really dirty clothing – you don’t know if there is a stench with her, but you can’t really tell: your nose is too desensitized.

‘That’s a rich yarn if I ever saw one – the Admiralty makin’ rounds here.’

>Write-In

Apologies. Was praying.

>>451047
>we heard about pepole geting attacked, just investigating

>>451047
>>we heard about pepole geting attacked, just investigating
sounds good for me
should work on getting new cloths for thies peopel or something to wash them

Folks, I'm feeling a lot more under the weather than I would have predicted this morning. I don't know if it's the curry or the fried instant noodles but I really, really have to say... I don't think I'm up to this. At least, not for the next several hours.

I'll be steering into sleep and hopefully after, I'll be feeling better after.

Apologies again - I know you guys wanted something more than CHOOSE WHAT TO DO for this session.

>>451166
probably the curry

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As you move to reply, you take notice of several children – no, teenagers – peek out from the shattered walls above, some of them cleaner than the old woman, some of them dirtier. They look down at you curiously, like a murder of crows watching the last breaths of a dead animal, ready to swoop down for their next meal.

You do away with that analogy swiftly; you don’t want to exaggerate the threat, if there was one in the first place. Looking to your right, you see Fingers, thankfully, just keeping quiet with his hands in his pockets – you’re thankful that he doesn’t bull rush them, not that you’d expected him to – and, presumably, waiting for you to make the next move.

‘I’m sorry,’ You begin, your nose twitching at another bare whiff of the smell, ‘I didn’t know the Admiralty didn’t reach this far in – !’

‘We never asked you to come in this far.’ The old woman looks at you – right at you – making you almost take a step back; you had the feeling that whatever you were here for, the fact that you were in the issued fatigues probably didn’t provoke any goodwill from her part. ‘We’ve told you once; twice; thrice; we don’t want your help and we don’t need it. We got our own ways around.’

‘The Admiralty has at least some relief – wouldn’t it better for you and you… children… to move out to the beachfront or up north near the residences so you could – ?’

‘Boy, if you think we’re stupid enough to go by the beach where those monsters are, I’ll be concludin’ that you have more space between the ears than an empty toilet bowl.’

You open your mouth to retort, but are interrupted by the guffaws that break out above you. The children by the side of the old woman break out small smiles, their eyes still trained on you. Fingers shoots you a glance, pressing you to get on with it.

‘We’re investigating an attack on our men that have been passing through this area.’ You declare loudly, looking up to the teenagers, who immediately disappear at the declaration, then back down to the old woman, whose expression turns from a scowl to a neutral one. ‘They were transporting food a few days ago back to the plaza site and they were attacked – we’re looking for the assailants… or, failing that, anything that could lead us to whoever’s responsible.’

‘Oh?’ She lets out a small chuckle. ‘How noir of you – and what will you do once you find the one responsible?’

‘I – !’

‘Knock ‘em into the port like a fish on a fly!’

The old woman lets out a bark of laughter, gesturing the children to run off into the building. She walks up to the both of you, putting her hands out.

‘Throw me a little lightly, please; I don’t want to land in head-first.’

Fingers blinks, flabbergasted.

‘You got me, boys.’

>Write-In
>Question her
>Don't take her in
>‘Fingers?’ (Ask for input)
>Take her in CONCLUDES TASK

>>453347
>>Question her
I mean she probably needed the food. Things in the District aren't exactly peachy.

>>453347
>>Question her

>>453369
>>453371
I have something to say, but I won't say it until you guys take this TASK to its conclusion. I want this at least out of the way.

>>453382
Is it something about the quest, or something about you? You going on hiatus?

>>453384
It's not important. Just keep going. As always, write-ups start 25-35 min after my post.

>>453347
>>Take her in CONCLUDES TASK
and ask her way?

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You and Fingers share a look, more confused than proud that the case had been solved so quickly. The old woman, whose height barely comes up to your chest, doesn’t even look at you. There is no remorse, no reluctance to her action – it is done, for here, merely, because it needs to be done. It is straightforward and as clear as the big blue sky. However, something hits you and you look down to her, the words leaving your mouth carrying a swaying weight to them.

‘Why did you assault my men?’

‘Your men, boyo?’ She throws back her head, cackling. Instead of being angry, as you had been with Hiei, you don’t feel the boil of annoyance or rage; most probably because you had been holding it in check since that odd occurrence. ‘I didn’t think the big lugs would have been so easy to drop under your command. It must be some ship you’re running if one little old lady can take on a bunch of your Johnnys.’

Fingers turns purple at the answer and mouths a retort… before looking away, his cheeks red and grumbling. You have your own opinion of that statement – namely that as grown men, they shouldn’t be able to be taken out by one old lady that had, at the time, gone through them with merely a sliver more trouble than she otherwise would have had grocery shopping.

‘The smell of the food was just too hard to resist.’ She cracks a smile, tired and crooked but chirpy. ‘It’s just so hard, so hard,’ she chuckles, ‘it’s been a while since something so luxurious came out of the kitchens – and your boys didn’t look like they would have been keen on sharing one or two.’

‘So you did this because of food?’ You frown, crossing your arms. ‘Seems like a little too much work for someone just to get at a warm meal.’

‘Young man.’ Her voice takes an icy tone, one that you’re not too keen on – there’s a withering threat behind it, and she looks all the more dangerous; not physically, but she emanates a sort of frustrated anger – one that you’re not too sure about drawing out more with words than you already had. ‘Food is an indulgence; you’re young – maybe this is your first experience – but at the front, when you’re starving there are things you’ll do over half a corn cob that you wouldn’t have thought of before.’

‘The children – !’

‘Want nothing to do with you.’ She says icily. ‘Not with you, not with your goons. I will bear it.’

You bite your lip, pondering.

>Write-In
>‘Fingers, you got a word for me here?’
>‘She’s not our perp.’ (Leave her be)
>‘We’ve got our perp. I’ll take her in.’ (Take her in) CONCLUDES TASK

OOC: As a noir TASK, I heavily encourage write-ins. Please, please, look for clues in the text instead of just choosing an option. You’re doing investigative work here.

>>453508
>'Did you attack my men about three or four blocks away from the plaza, border where the MPs cut off their patrol?'

>>453508
>"How much food do you need? I can see about having some brought in, but I need to know the whole truth about the attacks first. Was there any other reason besides the food? Maybe something to do with their former allegiances?"

Or something like that. It's obvious that the old lady didnt attack the men, but I'm thinking it may stem from more than just desperation over food.

>>453508
No mercy dammit. You offered her relief and she said fuck it I would rather steal. Throw the book at her!

>>453508
"-at the front-"

Ex-military? Or something else? ;)
She may not care about putting herself through it, but the kids shouldn't have to. Why she want to make their lives harder than it has to be?

>>453566
Ask the question at the next prompt.

I'm having trouble in that anything that is copy pasted results in a Connection Error again.

>>453508
I doubt she did it
>have you seen who roams these streets at night?

>>453347
>>Question her
She's obviously covering for whomever we want. Lets see if we can get information.

>>453585
oh man, i was a little late there...eheheh.

>>453508
>‘Fingers, you got a word for me here?’

File: I've Seen More Than You H(...).png (451 KB, 752x720)

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‘So this is the only place you attacked my men, correct? Right here?’ You look around; the smell is on-and-off and the place is wide enough to see people coming, but the ruins and the cracked walls would have been good places to pincer in a hit and run ambush.

She sets her hands down, giving the place a good look as you had; only with a smile to contrast your frown and confusion.

‘This is my neighborhood, as smelly and unkempt as it is.’ She chuckles good-naturedly. ‘My home is here, as theirs is.’ She gestures to the teenagers – there could have been just over a half-dozen of them, you estimate. ‘I only ask that you take me in and leave the rest of them alone.’ She requests, giving you a curt nod. ‘They are happy here – better off here than anywhere else in the town.’

‘You’re not letting them leave?’ You frown – you didn’t like the idea one bit.

The woman looks up at you, unfazed. There is a hawkish quality to her blazing, dark eyes, one that goes right through you. She is as old as she looks, as grizzled as she seems and very much… the picture of a serene, neutral woman.

‘You’re not from Yokosuka, are you, young man?’ She raises an eyebrow.

You shake your head – you had been here just over a month, really, from the time you’d answered a propaganda poster till now.

‘There is a pride for those that are born here, raised here. The ones that are gone, that have left and huddled themselves onto the buses, they do not bleed the land, know how it makes them just how we make it.’ She gives the buildings around you a fond look, hands behind her back and smiling. ‘I am old, old enough to hear the same empty promises, the same call for renewal, only to see it fall back and not be fulfilled; I’m a jaded old woman… but even I don’t need to tell you that ten years of lies is just that.’

You cross your arms, not liking the implication of her words. For one, you’d seen enough around the town to know that the Admiralty definitely had been making good on their promise to help the town back up to working order; for two, you’d been on the front lines – in a fashion, in any case – to say that you were most definitely working your hardest to get things back to the way they were.

‘You’re blaming the Admiralty for your hardship?’

‘No,’ she smirks, giving you a look that raises your ire just that bit more and pausing, seemingly reveling in your indignant reaction, ‘I am blaming the Admiralty for telling us that they are the only solution to the problem – and that there are no other options but to bend to your charity and goodwill, to take it like a gradual poison from every cup.’

You round on her, your teeth baring.

‘Is that what you’ve been telling the children? Keeping them here with those – !’

‘I don’t need to tell what is already apparent.’

TBC

File: Old Lady Again.gif (37 KB, 400x300)

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‘I was here when the sirens went up, young man, but unlike the others all I saw was another grab for power, a shameless attempt no better than any opportunists in a time of desperation.’ She practically spits out the words, a venom in them you’d seldom heard.

‘Assuming things of people isn’t a very nice rule to live by.’ You say diplomatically, taking a step back.

‘Oh?’ She lets out a mirthless chuckle. ‘What do you call a Lord who promises to erect a new road within ten years who doesn’t?’

To your surprise, it’s Fingers who takes it, barking so loud it echoes in the wide alley road, smirking.

‘A friggin’ liar, like all of ‘em floozies.’

The old lady lets out another chuckle, this time one of deep amusement, nodding to Fingers. She does not stop for a good several seconds, sharing a look of understanding with your self-proclaimed Number Two before looking at you, her eyes as hawkish as they had been before, piercing straight into your one good eye.

‘Then what do you call a supposed army who promises things for the better and the only thing they have to show for it is just how big their guns?’

You bite back your immediate answer, un-crossing your arms and putting your hands in your pockets. You mumble for a good while, trying to find a more neutral way to convey it… but the more time you take, the more smug her expression seems to grow.

Finally, reaching your breaking point, you give her your answer, your shoulders slumped your one good eye aching from the half-glare you did not realize you had been trying to hold back since you’d started talking with her.

‘An occupation.’ You half-grumble.

She gives you an apologetic smile, letting out a sigh. To your right, you observe Fingers’s lips form a thin line, as if holding something back himself. She looks from you to Fingers and then back to the teenagers above you with a turn of her head.

‘You are not a bad person – or at least I don’t believe you are.’ She concedes, her back to you. She turns around again with a smirk, hands behind her back, the amusement on her features very much apparent. ‘You are, however, very much naive in thinking that you would expect an old bitch like me to think any different.’

‘BABA!’

A little girl – one of the children than had been at her side before, appears from right behind her, surprising you. How had she made her way here without any of you noticing?

‘I believe I told you to scoot over to the others.’ She chides her. ‘Grown-ups are talking.’

‘You said bi – !’

She instantly stops. You’re not sure what the old lady’s face looks like, but you’re sure you don’t want to be the little girl at that moment.

‘You said it – you can’t say it.’

‘Yes, I did. That was a very bad thing of me to say.’ She chuckles, patting the little girl’s head. ‘These men are taking me away for saying it, so don’t you start.’

TBC

File: LEAVE GRANNY ALONE.jpg (30 KB, 225x350)

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‘So you did attack my men – for food.’

‘Yes, young man, I did.’ Her answer is immediate and without hesitation.

‘Baa-chan didn’t do nothin’!’ One of the boys yell from the shops above.

‘My, my, how rambunctious.’ She sighs, looking up at the shoplot’s hole again. ‘Please forgive me. I promised them I would let them go to the football pitch before we caught sight of you. They are rather impatient.’

You try again, offering the services – a few more mouths didn’t make a tangible difference, anyway.

‘The Admiralty has relief and – !’

‘We do not need it.’ She says again, drawing another headache.

‘Ya attack a bunch’a us for our food and ya say ya don’t want it?’ Fingers snarls. ‘Lady, maybe you’ve heard of somethin’ called log – !’

‘It was an exception.’ She growls right back – enough that Fingers stops dead, standing stiff as a board. ‘One that will not happen again – with me in your custody, the attack will not repeat and your men will be safe to traverse this area once more.’

‘Attack?’ You blink, confused at the word.

‘Boss?’

You shake your head, getting back on track.

‘Sorry – look, they’re kids. They don’t have to stay in here like the – !’

‘We don’t want anything to do with you and your monsters!’ A teenage boy yells – the same one from before, leaning out of the hole, looking the picture of rage.

‘Monsters?’

‘Buncha cowards they are! Buncha good they did!’ Another one, a girl, cries out.

‘Children, behave yourselves!’ She warns with a yell.

‘They don’t care about us!’ Another boy leans out, shaking his fist at you. ‘They don’t care about anything other than fighting! What good are they, huh? Ya think we’re going to crawl to ‘em just ‘cause they got everything shiny and fancy? Get outta here, fatso!’

‘APOLOGIZE!’ The old lady roars, shaking even you – even Fingers.

‘Baa – !’

‘Apologize right now, or so help me I will throw you into the ocean myself!’ The boy hurries back into the hole at this, and with a sigh, she turns to you. ‘We’ve gone for long enough – it feels like we’ve been here forever.’ She pinches the bridge of her nose, looking her years even more than before. ‘Young man, I apologize for the bother we have caused you and your patrons. I will take full responsibility for my actions.’

‘The children?’

‘They’re good enough here – my only request is that you leave them alone. They do not want to have anything to do with you – not on my command or my wish, but because they do not want to. Because they do not believe in you; neither do I, for that matter.’

She sighs.

‘However, I have wronged you; and for that I will relinquish myself to your judgment.’

>Write-In
>'Fingers?'
>'She's not our perp.' (Leave her be)
>'All right.' (Take her in) CONCLUDES TASK

>>453648
>>'Fingers?'

Would you folks like a bit more time considering the length of the read-through?

>>453675
That'd be nice

>>453648
Take her in, and give a bit of a speech as well. Let the kids know that mugging aint acceptable.
Probably have to investigate the MPs too though since the attach in the alley is still unexplained.

So the old lady obviously didnt do it.
maybe some of the older kids, especially if she was teaching them some basic martial arts.

I say we take her with us a while.

>>453648
I think we can forget this, ourmen do not pas through here BUT i want a ear out here, nothing ridiclous aint?

>>453728
Pardon?

>>453732
Phone posting is shit
i meant we can forget this if she becomes an informan to us

>>453656
>>453698
>>453714
>>453758
I don't really get all of what you guys want as the outcome, but I'll try to convey it the best I can, okay?

>>453771
I personally think we should give a speech similar to Jack Nicholson's speech in A Few Good Men. It seems like people don't realize that we lost over half of our forces in a single attack. That, frankly, it is a miracle that we kept Yokosuka on the map. And most importantly, that these people are doing such a poor job of helping themselves that they need to be helped. They may not like us, but they're only alive because our people have fought, bled, and died for them.

>>453773
Yokosuka and Maizuru are the only two bases left. Ominato was fucking obliterated, as per Hiei's account.

All things considered, this isn't that bad.

>>453781
My point exactly. These civilians don't seem to realize how much worse it could be. At least Yokosuka still exists.

>>453783
And by "isn't that bad" I mean at least only 25 percent of the populace is MIA/KIA and not 80-90 percent.

>>453785
>25 percent
I was honestly expecting it to be higher myself. So what's happening with Ominato now anyway? Is the Admiralty planning on rebuilding it, or just building a new base somewhere else?

>>453791
Can't spoil. Critics will get me.

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‘If you say the kids are fine, then I’ll leave them to it.’ You give a nod.

You don’t miss the smile of relief she gives to go with the bow.

‘Thank you.’

She looks up to the hole to give a look – a glare – to the children, a last warning before she would be let off. It doesn’t sit right with you drag her off away from the kids, not at all, but you’re faced with little choice – and considering that as of right now, that she’s the only lead that you have in regards to the case, you don’t have other options; you cast a look to the shophouse – that’s what you realize just what it is – to see the boy, the eldest among them, send you a glare, before disappearing past the blocks with the others.

Maybe you’d tell the MPs or some KanMusu to come here later… if they’d have them. The problem laid in that they didn’t want the help that you’d given the others who had remained, and you didn’t want to instigate anything if they turned out to be violent.

You’re on the main road now, the old lady as silent as a mouse between you and Fingers. The Command Tent isn’t so close that it’s a straight shot for people who would have voted to walk from one end to the other, but you can estimate that it probably saves more time compared going the same way around the plaza and onto the beach front’s road.

‘I don’t think you did it.’ You say, more out of your need to get it off your chest than a sound hunch.

‘Do you now?’ She doesn’t look at you, traipsing along as she had been all this while.

‘I do.’ You nod; she doesn’t seem interested in the least, but you go on, anyway. ‘However, if you didn’t do it, you handing yourself over to us without much of a resistance and so quickly means that you’re willing to lay yourself down for the one who actually did do it.’

She looks up to you, fixing a flat stare with your one good eye.

‘That is a sound theory,’ she mentions nonchalantly. ‘or is it just something you’re telling yourself to slide the fact that a little old lady such as I could have taken your men so well? It would be rather embarrassing if that emerged to be the fact, now, would it?’

Fingers stops in his tracks, eyes widening.

‘You wouldn’t!’

‘Fingers.’ You give him a tired look. ‘I got this.’

You regard her, hands in your pockets – you muse you only need a hat and a cigar right now to look the part of a hard-boiled macho man from days past.

The three of you continue walking.

‘You wouldn’t leave the kids that far off and risk alerting us across the plaza, either, if you are responsible at the other sites of attack.’ You play coy, trying to get a rise out of her – she merely keeps walking between the both of you, her leaps as sealed now as they were before. ‘I doubt you would have done it alone, and if you’re not alone, you must have an accomplice, perhaps one of the – !’

TBC

File: See Doll I Always Get My Man.gif (14 KB, 170x305)

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‘Young man, I am old.’ She says dangerously, the corners of her lips tip upward but they don’t quite reach her eyes. ‘But do not forget that if your guess is wrong, I am the old lady who was enough to get the drop on your men and send them home crying and embarrassed; and if you are insinuating what I think you are – and if you think for even a moment of going back there and violating the terms of my surrender to even so much as ask them for directions to the nearest loo, I will begin entertaining thoughts of my own… and you will not like where they go.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ You reassure, although you do backtrack a bit on your course. ‘It’s just a theory.’

‘You overthink.’ She chides you, eying the insignia, the logo, on your top. ‘Although, considering the lot that you throw yourself in with, I cannot say that I am surprised.’ She quips, smirking. ‘Young and full of spit and promise; you don’t think for a moment that your decision might be wrong so long as it has a pretty face to go with it.’

‘Wouldn’t call ya a pretty – !’

She raises a finger to Fingers… and just as you had before, he backtracks, too.

‘Elegant.’ He coughs into his hand, looking to her and indicating that he did intend to say that all along. ‘I was going to say elegant. Grace and poise mean more than looks, yes-sir.’

‘How kind of you, young man.’ She giggles into a fist – Fingers looks over to you worriedly.

‘So let me just share my theory – you’re not responsible, but you’re feel it’s enough to take the fall for the one that’s responsible – the one behind the attacks.’

She lets out a tired sigh.

‘You have such a keen eye.’ She looks up to you lazily. ‘Is that why you do not use the other one?’

‘Muzzle flash; treatment’s still on-going.’ You almost grimace – you’d practically parroted Akashi word-for-word. ‘So, who is this person that you’re so willing to take the fall for?’

‘If we’re going by your theory, young man,’ she grins widely, raising a finger and pointing at your insignia once more, ‘it’s anyone who cares enough for us that doesn’t wear that on their shirts.’

You take that as a good time to stop it. You didn’t want to try her patience anymore than you had. When you get to the MPs near the Command Tent, it takes a while to explain just why an old lady needed the supervision.

‘Please take this lady to a temp tent for the time being – and keep her fed and healthy.’

‘So, we got one… she didn’t do it, right, Boss?’ Fingers glances at their retreating backs. ‘According to your theory, at least?’

‘Theory. Just a theory.’

1/4
>Execute TASK: Proceed With Investigation
>Execute TASK: Deliver Letter to Mamiya’s
>Execute TASK: Meeting With Takao
>Look for KanMusu
>Seek Out Officers/Staff
>District Management
>Write-In

I hope that outcome was satisfactory. I couldn't read between the lines as well as I wanted to.

>>453814
>>Execute TASK: Deliver Letter to Mamiya’s
as long as the attcks stop then it dosnt matter
we can pick it back up if they start up again

>>453814
>>Execute TASK: Meeting With Takao
It sounded urgent, we shouldn't keep her waiting.

>>453814
>takao
man i feel the noir
plus a day to stew that would be good

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‘I think we’ll have to call it for now, Fingers.’ You announce, the rest of the day’s tasks catching up to your thoughts – even if you wanted to go on with the investigation, there wouldn’t be enough time to just do it all at once. It had to be followed-through another day. ‘I have some other things to do before the day ends.’

‘All right, Boss.’ Fingers gives you a reassuring nod, giving you a pat on the shoulder. ‘Don’t ya worry about the boys – if there’s anything that comes up, I’ll tell ya straight away; keep ‘em outta trouble an’ all that.’

‘I appreciate it.’

You really do.

Fingers doesn’t bother to wait for a buggy – he doesn’t seem to be comfortable with the prospect of being so close to the Command Tent and the MPs that he had been at odds with prior to your takeover, nor could you blame him. With the added suspicion from your men at them being participants of the assaults, Fingers had every right to not want to be anywhere near here.

As he disappears past a group of maintenance crew members, you turn your thoughts to the next agenda.

Namely, a certain KanMusu that goes by the name of Takao.

You make your way to the Prep Dock; if there’s any place that she could be this early in the evening, you suppose that there’s where she would be. You make your way past the bustle of the staff gathered around the Command Tent, too busy to pay attention to you, let alone give you a salute. You suppose you couldn’t really hold it against the crew; this late in the day, people just wanted things out of the way so they could get as much good night’s rest as they can.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself as a few burly MPs and the bright jumpsuits of what could only belong to the Prep Dock’s crew bump and knock into you as you make your way past them – or at least try to; for a space that would have looked so wide and empty without people, it truly feels like a convention or a festival entrance.

With some struggle, you make it to the doors of the Prep Dock, where the same two MPs you had seen guarding the door at the time of your first experience with the RAY are cross-armed, glaring at anyone who would so much as look at the door funny.

‘Afternoon, Gentlemen.’ You offer a salute – the reply is immediate and curt. You cut straight to the point, feeling that you’d long past gone the limits of Takao’s patience by slotting her in last. ‘I’m here to see my KanMusu – would any of them happen to be in there?’

‘Um… we’re not sure, sir.’ One of them gives you a quizzical look, before turning to the other. ‘We know there are some of them inside, but no one but the Department Head uses this entrance if they’re a KanMusu. Most of ‘em head through the other door.’

>‘I’ll check inside, then.’ (Go inside)
>‘Maybe she’s somewhere else.’ (Look elsewhere: Specify)

>>453884
>‘I’ll check inside, then.’ (Go inside)

>>453884
Go inside

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Without further ceremony, you go right on through – you are not quite sure where else Takao could be, and seeing as this had been the last place you’d met up with her, it was, at the moment, as good a guess as any. Inside, you’re immediately greeted by the sight of several men, women and fairies, buisly working on the RAY. Up on above, two men argue loudly about the placement of the cranes, catching your attention – between them, a fairy does a small shadow boxing routine, apparently amused by the vitriol the both of them spouted.

On your immediate right, several of the crew are gathered around a small box – a generator, more likely than not – giving each other accusing looks and uttering annoyed snipes of just who had jurisdiction on a previous run and just who had it now – you don’t make sense of the words, moving straight to the stairs, where you carefully avoid with a swing of your legs a jutting pylon.

‘I know I’m not getting upgraded any time soon, but if it’s all the same to you, I just want to know if I can summon it without feeling like I need to puke.’

You smile as you see Takao, deprived of her top save for a bra and summoning her gear, surrounded by men tending to her weaponry. Her cannons train and whirr with loud clicks, going up and down, left and right; the men tending to her, in addition to the small host of fairies who flick bare spots on her arm and twirl on her shoulders, are working on her, perhaps another performance benchmark currently on its way.

‘Well, Ma’am,’ one of the men sound – bearded and hardy-looking, a fairy at the tip of his fingers working its magic, ‘I don’t know what’s wrong – your grounding point tests all come back normal, but your the core’s apparently unstable. Although, given your Class, I’m not sure why you’re so worried about it; you pack a punch either way.’

She looks like a posh lady being fitted for a dress more than a KanMusu having her weaponry attuned or calibrated. She doesn’t notice you, slumping her shoulders as she looks down at one of the men adjusting her foot gear. She frowns as she regards him.

‘You’re going to see a minor speed drop after use, but I don’t think that we’re going to see anything significant when you’re going zig-zag anyway.’

‘That’s reassuring.’ She sighs, slumping her shoulders. ‘I’m not going to buckle down or anything after firing off a round, am I?’

‘Well, that depends on your definition of buckle down. At the current rate attunement, you’re not going to feel it, but if you drag it on, you might feel a little more feedback – if you think a few percent of a – !’

‘Commander.’

Takao finally notices you, saluting.

The rest do too, hurriedly getting to their feet.

>Ask her if you could see her now
>Let them finish their work and meet her upstairs later
>Write-In

>Let them finish their work and meet her upstairs later

>>453938
Let them finish, wait.

>>453938
>>Let them finish their work and meet her upstairs later
say nice guns hun
once your done getting your dress fited lady il be waiting for you upstears

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You observe Takao, whose expression remains unchanged – she fixes you with a stare that could either mean that this was a particularly bad time to follow-up on your appointment or that she was definitely holding against you the fact that you had, of all things, struck her for dead-last on your agenda. At least, that’s as far as you can tell with her.

‘I’ll be upstairs, Takao.’ You point a finger to the control room on top; whatever it was with her, you definitely knew that this wasn’t the time or place for your rendezvous. ‘You folks won’t be long, right?’

‘Ten minutes.’ One of the men calls out, kneeling by Takao’s right and fastening what looked like metal strap, further tended to by a fairy at the tip of his fingers. ‘Your Heavy Cruiser here’s having trouble with the feedback after a discharge – she shouldn’t be feeling it so badly after this.’

‘I thought it was all magic.’ You joke, giving Takao a wink.

Her warning look comes too late, as the half-dozen men get to their feet, giving you a glare that would have probably been infinitely heavier had you not outranked them by such a margin.

‘That it may be, sir, but if you’re firing a cannon powerful enough to shatter a building in one shot, you’re going to tell me that when something goes wrong, you’re going to just raise your arms and go: the magic’ll sort it all out?’

You grimace.

‘I see your point.’

‘Ten minutes, sir.’ He repeats, and they all shuffle back to work.

You don’t bother to give a parting salute, making your way up top – you’d probably embarrassed Takao enough with that remark about their ethic, anyway.

The control room is bare, as it would be, considering there were no operations undertaken at the current moment. Several monitors, dashboards and the like are held together in a series of ad-hoc stations. The place looks neat, untouched, and at the back of your head, you hear the nagging voice of a certain Department Head who would have your neck if it was not kept that way.

It isn’t until you sit down on a battered office chair by a corner station that you notice that you are not quite alone here.

A young woman, pale – white – sits down, clad in an all-black uniform that reminded you more of a postal worker than anything else, a large scroll rolled up on her lap. She’s diminutive, but not so much the size of a Destroyer; you’d estimate her to be around Tenryuu’s height – and, adding to that, a figure that threatened to spill out of that tight-looking uniform.

‘You’re looking better than last time.’ She smiles kindly, looking up from the scroll on her lap.

You open your mouth to say something, but she beats you to it.

‘Akitsumaru. We’ve met.’

>Remember (Roll a 1d6 each)
>‘Akitsumaru, right…’ (Feign knowledge of her)
>‘I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve actually met before.’ (Concede you don’t remember her)

Rolled 6 (1d6)

>Remember (Roll a 1d6 each)

Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>454050
>Remember (Roll a 1d6 each)

Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>454050
>>Remember (Roll a 1d6 each)

Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>454050
>Remember (Roll a 1d6 each)

Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>454050
>>Remember (Roll a 1d6 each)

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Your eyes focus on her, but as try as hard as you might, you can’t shake that there is just something off about her. Her eyes, a wide, shimmering midnight, look upon you with a cross of amusement and expectation; rather than a person, you feel like you’re talking to – and looking straight at – a porcelain doll in motion.

There is a fragility and a strength to her, amid the eerie, doll-like visage as she regards you.

‘I remember your name,’ you do, in the cracks of your memory, ‘but I don’t – !’

It all comes back to you at once.

The beach smells of fire and sorrow; you taste sand and blood, suit and saltwater on your tongue. It feels like you are drowning on air itself – Akashi is on top of you, tearful as her cranes, her skills get to work. You feel nothing more than a deep desire to close your eyes, to shut it all out and just embrace the void… someone carries you, carries all the others into a ship – a boat, and at the helm…

‘You saved my life.’Your eyes widen; hers narrow as the smile on her lips reaches them, nodding.

You’re speechless. This is the KanMusu that had ferried you on… whatever that had been to the MASH; she had effectively given Akashi the window to keep you alive. You owed her quite a bit – as did the others on that beach that had been hauled into whatever that vehicle was – and it was her bumpy driving that had dragged the lot of you away from a messy death.

‘I believe courtesy dictates that the next words to leave your mouth should be thank you.’ She giggles, opening her large scroll, reading a few words from it before shutting it again, her eyes training on you.

‘Yeah, I – thanks.’ You manage, clearing your throat. ‘I would’ve died if you hadn’t brought me back to the MASH on time.’

‘Glad you think so.’ She says cheerfully, tapping her chin with a gloved hand. ‘I believe I have to address you as Commander from now on, wouldn’t I?’

‘I wish we could have saved more people.’ She says, without a hint of emotion. It’s a little jarring to hear that statement in such a monotone voice. ‘We just couldn’t get to all of them on time.’

‘It’s no one’s fault.’ You assure her; everyone had done what they could.

‘Oh, it is definitely our fault.’ She grins, a little too uncannily; you do not know why she does.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘You’re too kind.’ She shuts the scroll. ‘I’m glad you – !’ She hastily gets up, walking over to the control room’s door. ‘I think it’s time for my calibration and attunement; we’ll talk sometime else.’

The door opens, revealing Takao, this time fully-dressed and weaponless.

‘Akitsumaru.’ Takao gives her a nod.

‘Takao.’ She bows slightly to Takao, moving past her. ‘Take care of yourself Commander.’

‘Thank – !’ The door shuts before you can finish. ‘You.’

'Sir.'

>Write-In

>>454117
Correction:

The beach smells of fire and sorrow; you taste sand and blood, suit and saltwater on your tongue

To

The beach smells of fire and sorrow; you taste sand and blood, desperation and saltwater on your tongue

>>454117

Is it truly such a important thing?
You have my attention

>>454117
How you feeling?

>>454117
Sorry for being so late, Takao.

>>454184
This. Apologies first, then business.

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‘How’s your day been?’ She asks, closing the door behind her.

‘Mine?’ You offer her an apologetic smile. ‘Eventful, if you’d believe it.’

Takao walks over to the space across you, taking an office chair and placing herself on it. There’s a strange lack of energy, lack of vibrancy from her. Her smile – her special, teasing grin – is nowhere to be found. What is there is merely a shadow of it, a reluctant, forced, upturn of her lips, a false accompaniment to her easing her form down onto the table, elbows at the edges, red eyes that had once been so inviting now merely ruby shimmers that gaze into your one good eye, restrained and cold.

‘I believe it.’ She mutters softly, stretching her form across the table, her hands reaching across to you.

Her eyes never leave you, pained and lonely as they are. You bite your lip, making a move to apologize – whatever that had happened in the day, you have no doubt that somehow it rounded right back to you, as ego-centric a thought it is. You’d watch too many dramas and listened to too many sob stories on the radio to take it any other way.

‘I’m sorry I’m late; I know you would have liked to have seen me earlier.’ You scramble, hoping to catch her before she could sink any further into the mire.

Takao’s smile never leaves her, but the insincerity of it all somehow just pecks at you like a raven would a carcass. You lean on your elbow, regarding her with worry.

‘No, Commander, it’s all right.’ She raises her head from the chair, setting down her hat. You hadn’t seen that full tussle of hair since that night, you recall. ‘I think I needed the time to think about it, anyway.’

Takao looks to the windows overlooking the RAY and the crew below. The room is thankfully soundproof, so the blaring sound of machinery and yelling crew members doesn’t shatter whatever mood that the both of you have set for each other – although, at the mood she had set, you wouldn’t mind some loud clatter of tools to break the line.

‘So, ah, what’s this all about then?’ You cough, bringing her to attention. You think you must sound like a factory supervisor more than you do her Commander. ‘Nagato said you weren’t particularly… happy about whatever it is that was on your mind.’

Takao doesn’t answer, her eyes still trained on the windows – the workmen and the fairies working on the RAY, setting down modules and cables. You go back and forth between the men outside and your CA, your brows furrowing in confusion.

‘Takao, you all right?’ You inquire, now genuinely worried.

Takao immediately sits upright, as if just woken up, scratching the back of her head.

‘Oh, I’m fine, just…’ that smile comes back, and it only makes you even more uneasy, whatever it is she held up her sleeve for you. ‘I guess it’s just been a long day for me, too.’

TBC

File: DEAR COMMANDER.jpg (97 KB, 707x536)

97 KB JPG

You reach your prosthetic across, putting it on her gloved one, squeezing gently.

Takao’s hand seems as dead as her, sapped of its strength. You give her a reassuring look, hoping that it’d get her spirits up; as her Commander, you had to tell her you were there for her, that she, as the a member of your Division, could always at least turn back to you for whatever trouble she had, any time and any place. You don’t know if that is what was indeed in your job description, but for you…

Seeing Takao so dead just felt wrong. It felt as wrong as when you’d callously tossed her in your melee with the Vice-Admiral; it had been just as wrong as seeing her weep with worry.

As she puts her other hand on yours, squeezing in return, you find that smile of hers again – a little broken, but a lot less forced.

‘When the SS arrives, you’re not going to be able to do that anymore, you know?’

You smirk and share a chuckle, reaching your hand back. The drag of her fingertips says that she doesn’t want it gone so soon, though.

‘What’s eating you?’ You get to the core of the issue, throwing her a worried gaze.

‘The Representative of the Court of Admirals assigned one of their Submarines to our Base – specifically, to keep an eye on our Division.’

‘I already know this, Takao.’ You say, sounding a little more annoyed than you really are. ‘Is this what’s bothering you so much?’

‘It’s more like what they can do.’ She lets out tiredly, her eyes fixed on the weathered old table. ‘Commander, I think all the others know just how rigid things are going to get with the Submarine being assigned – I think Nagato’s made it clear just what the extent of our relationship with you has to stretch.’ She shoots you a smirk – this one is definitely honest. ‘You’re a maverick upon mavericks, Commander.’

‘There’s a jibe in there, I know it.’

‘A bit.’ She leans back, looking to the ceiling, then right back at you with the utmost seriousness.‘Sir… I think what I’m asking is, and I want you to do this for me, and for your sake.’

You nod.

‘I’d like you to forget the last few days with me. Please.’

So this is what it felt like.

‘Is this about regs?’

‘This is about me easing back into a role.’ She says crisply, harshly. ‘Commander, I’m the reason that the Submarine was called here. If I hadn’t done…’ She lets out a sound. ‘If I had just kept myself in check, you would have handled the situation and we wouldn’t be in this mess.’

‘Now you’re saying that?’ You get to your feet, agitation rising.

‘I only received the note this morning,’ She gets to her feet, too, meeting your stare with her own. ‘and as I am not a Carrier, they won’t be putting me on any exception list any time soon.’

>‘Are you breaking up with me?’
>‘All right.’
>‘You can’t expect me to do that!’
>Write-In

>People want to feel like there's something happening, as per the opinion polls

SURPRISE. SOMETHING HAPPENED.

File: iB49Cat.png (171 KB, 433x464)

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>>454341
>>‘All right.’
I think she's blaming herself a bit much for being the cause of the SS

>>454349
I have no idea what kind of face I'm supposed to be making right now

>>454341
>"We'll all have to be more careful until the submarine is gone. I'll just have to play the obedient commander long enough to make think they have everything locked down. This doesn't change anything about the way I feel. But no matter what, please don't blame yourself."

>>454341
>>Write-In
>If you don't want to continue, then i can't force you to. But I can't change the way I feel, and there's no way in hell am i going to forget.

>>454341
>>454374
Agreed. To hell with this act like nothing happened bullshit. We'll play the obedient little Commander for the sub

File: impure.jpg (17 KB, 286x380)

17 KB JPG

>>454405
>We'll play the obedient little Commander for the sub
I hope the innuendo was intentional

File: image.gif (263 KB, 480x479)

263 KB GIF

>>454415
It wasn't but thanks for that.

>>454349
i expeced something like that, exept from kaga

also
>>454374
>>454389

File: I Would Have Preferred Th(...).jpg (165 KB, 850x1275)

165 KB JPG

‘If you don’t want to, I can’t… I can’t force you to, I guess.’ You don’t know what to say, what to do, there is a bubbling impatience, a dissatisfied fire in you that you barely hold in check; but hold it in check, you do. ‘I can’t do that second part, though, I won’t forget – I don’t think a guy like me can forget.’

If there is ever a truth you had uttered in your life, this would be one of them.

‘I’ll play the part.’ You reluctantly concede – it is best for you to not drag this on, to not give in – you couldn’t lash out here, not now. ‘If you don’t want to go through with this, if you think that our relationship is a detriment to whatever it is you’re trying to convey to the Admiralty, to the inspection, I…’

Takao was right. Takao is right. For you to have taken that leap, that terrible, wonderful leap – there couldn’t have been a conclusion other than this, now, could there? A man that had just given in and the KanMusu – one of the KanMusu – who he had opened it up to; what else could there have been?

She glances at you worriedly, her eyes ablaze with emotion – kept in check, of course. So like her – so like you.

‘I guess there’s nothing more to say than I accept your terms, Miss Takao,’ you chuckle mirthlessly – you don’t like the decision one bit, but with the vultures circling you, you have no choice but to abide, ‘or at least, the part that I can accept.’ You get to your feet, sliding the chair under the table. ‘This is just until it all blows over, right?’

Takao doesn’t answer, her eyes still fixed on the surface of the table.

‘Takao?’

‘I don’t know.’

You offer a reassuring smile.

‘We’ll just have to be more careful, I guess, at least until she’s gone.’ You try to lighten it up, throwing in your best chipper voice, your can-do attitude and a little bit of cheer for good measure. ‘Especially me, I suppose – I think I’ve pushed your names into the red zone more than I should have as your Commander.’

‘That you have.’

It is like hail, cold and solid. Takao’s voice is firm, professional and matter-of-fact.

‘As my subordinate, Miss Takao, I believe that you’re supposed to assure me that I am a valiant and able Commander, even if I feel otherwise.’ You keep the jolly act up, hands in your pockets as you regard her.

‘I’ll call you those things you want to be told once you reach that level of competence.’

You hear too much of Nachi, too much of a voice that you don’t want to hear.

‘Fair enough, Miss Takao.’ You answer crisply, despite yourself. ‘I believe we’re done here, then?’

‘Of course, sir.’ She gives a bow, getting to her feet. ‘I’ll meet you back at the barracks.’

You don’t watch her go for the door.

Round and round it goes, where it stops, you always know.

0/4
>Keep Your Cool (Roll a 1d6 each)
>Give In

Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>454578
>>Keep Your Cool (Roll a 1d6 each)
COOL AS ICE

>>454578
>>Give In
Just this once.

Okay, folks, I hope you enjoy your "reward for sitting your ass down with the QM for 8 hours". Opinions on his this went are much needed, as I believe there may be a mark I overshot.

Otherwise, have a good day if you're on the other side of the planet, because I am callling it a night.

Toodles!

Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>454578
ice ice baby

>>454578
>Give In
Sometimes it's best to just let it out.

Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>454578
>Keep Your Cool (Roll a 1d6 each)
dontcrydontcrydontcrydontcrydontcry

>>454624
I like the new task system. It hurts my soul to have the Commander's relationship with the girls strained like this, but I'm sure we'll find a way to make it work. A lot of things have sort of gotten piled on to the Commander's life at once, but hopefully the SS won't be here too long so we can work things out with everybody. I'm guessing we'll have to be successful in some high-level missions?

>>454578
>Give In
Holding it means it will explode out later, most likely at a worse time.

Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>454578
>Keep Your Cool (Roll a 1d6 each)

>>454578
>Give in
Just let it out.

Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>454578
>>Keep Your Cool (Roll a 1d6 each)

>>454578
>Give In
After all the shit we've been through, we have a right to break down while no one's looking.

>>454578
>Give In

Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>454578
>>Keep Your Cool (Roll a 1d6 each)
the SS sub better be german

>>454578
>Give In

File: You Can't Keep It Bottled Up.jpg (24 KB, 348x340)

24 KB JPG

The feeling comes back. The rising, boiling, tip of anger and rage – and once more, you struggle to keep it down, to not just give in. You’re angry, angrier than you probably have any right to be, at yourself for letting this situation come to such a point, at your own inadequacy and incompetence for not being able to see this coming.

You feel like you just want to break something.

Try and try as he might, he can’t always find the beat…

A niggling, encouraging, dark sound whispers at the back of your ear, to give in to your annoyance, your vexation, your inadequacy – how dare this happen to you? How dare things not go your way after being so deceptively and disgustingly acceptable? It is not right – it is not right at all.

Dear, Dear Commander…

You kick the table over, letting out a cry of anger.

Mostly at yourself, but not so much that it doesn’t ooze out that you find yourself spitting fire at not just Takao, but everyone – everyone that could be reached out to deserved it. You spit at the Admiral for having even an iota of belief and trust in you; you imagine caving in the Vice-Admiral’s face for thinking you could do better than you think you could; you see Nagato’s assuring wink and wonder just why she even bothers in the first place; everyone and anyone that could and would, that you could and would, reach out to, they all…

It is so much better when the mirror doesn’t show who you really are.

You stop.

You get to your feet, your eyes wide in shock as you go over the table – if you could call the mangled piece of furniture such – and the old battered chairs that are bent and warped from the pounding of your Kantai Steel prosthetic. Your arms and legs ache, as though they’d been taking a beating for the better part of an hour; you wince as you put your weight on your right leg with a step.

You don’t remember why you’d – !

‘Sir, what the – ?’

Several of the support staff are at the door, shocked expressions everywhere.

‘I… I just had a really bad mood swing. On the meds for my eye, see?’ You offer – all you get in return are tentative nods as they make way for you – it’s the best lie you can come up with.

You bite your lip, running a hand through your hair.

‘Please send Yuubari my apologies – I think… I think I just had an attack or something. I’m sorry for the mess.’

You retreat out the door, past their confused, worried looks, a malicious giggle ringing in your ear. You needed sleep – rest and a clear head.

Tomorrow would be another day.

END DAY 18

>>456987
IT"S STILL IN OUR BRAIN!!!!

Thats the abyssal remant
we better keep our wits on that

>>457101
Considering it somehow spiritually/psychically survived after getting ravaged alive by a (maybe) virus, I wouldn't be surprised if a lingering portion of it is growing up inside our head, ready to burst and take over the Stream when we least expect it

>>457114
We should probably get our Stream a thorough check over before the next mission.

>>457119
I don't think we, in-character, are aware that there is anything to check yet. As far as we know, the Princess has been eliminated, and the Commander will write this off as just throwing a tantrum.

>>456987
QM, is the creepy voice in our head quoting a modified version of Abracadabra by Steve Millers Band?

File: Are We Human Or Are We Pa(...).jpg (172 KB, 650x350)

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You make your way down the stairs – today would be the last day of your R&R and tomorrow would be another foray into active duty. The place is as quiet as a meadow at midnight, the other denizens of the barracks still upstairs, the majority of them in their beds, a minor amount of them barely stirring. You enter the common area, seeing the clear space of the surface on your desk – a grimace falls on you as you realize that this would be, in all your days as a Commander, the first time you caught up to their waking cycle.

Yesterday is but a blur to you; Takao’s declaration, the developing case with the attacks on your men, the fact that Fingers’s weird letter was somehow still in your pocket, it all just added up – maybe that’s why you’d reacted so badly when…

Your blood runs cold as you bury your head in your hands – with that mess you’d made in the control room, Yuubari’s rage would probably put volcanoes and earthquakes to shame. You sigh as you make your way to the couch – maybe you could apologize to her by buying her lunch or something. Although, if her mannerisms in the past were any indication, you believe that a human sacrifice with you on a pyre would probably be the best bet.

For some reason, you can’t keep out the idea of her dancing around a stake, cackling as you fall into damnation.

You make your way to the kitchen space, opening up the refrigeration unit’s hatch. Inside lies your KanMusu’s food and what remains of the lamb that the Admiral had given to you. You turn your eye to the old stove, wondering if you could slip in a request for an upgrade – although, the next thought that crosses your mind is to consider that it is already very much a luxury in a battle zone to have access to a significant portion of gas for use.

You take out the frozen oat rations – specially procured for you in that supply box from the day before – and as bland as they sound, compared to what the rest of the denizens of the town had been through, it was at least something to call your own. You open it with a loud ripping sound and grab a bar.

As your teeth sink into it, you wonder if this is how all KanMusu tasted food.

You drop right onto the couch, uncomfortable as it had been before – you’d woken up a little too early and perhaps sneaking a small nap could do you some good.

‘Morning, sir! Didn’t think you’d be up so early!’

You groan, opening a lazy eye to see your two attendants, carrying several folders – one of them even has a bag, filled with what you can presume to only be… more folders.

'I thought today was a day off for you guys?' You grumble.

‘Oh, sir, the mission reports came in this morning!’

The bulky attendant hands you a file.

>Task: Roll a 3d6 for each Operation that you did not undertake to see how the other missions went. Successful roll requirements vary.

>>457140
What creepy voice in your head?

Rolled 4, 6, 2 = 12 (3d6)

>>457162
I hope everybody did their best!

Rolled 3, 2, 5 = 10 (3d6)

>>457162

Rolled 5, 1, 4 = 10 (3d6)

>>457162
Don't fuck up Admiralty

Rolled 6, 6, 2 = 14 (3d6)

>>457165
>>457169
>>457170
Considering we're a few voters short, I guess I'll be rolling in their stead.

Rolled 5, 3, 3 = 11 (3d6)

>>457165
>>457169
>>457170
And here's the last of them.

Rolled 5, 5, 6 = 16 (3d6)

>>457162

>>457234
Oh, you rolled. Hang on. I'll have to rewite
>>457246 then.

Rolled 6, 4, 1 = 11 (3d6)

>>457162

>>457165
>>457169
>>457170
>>457228
>>457234
OPERATION SPECTRE DUST (23) - MISSION COMPLETED
OPERATION WHITE BRICK (20) - MISSION COMPLETED
OPERATION DIRT 'N ROSES (19) - MISSION COMPLETED

-Results: Spectre Dust - Archipelago defended, village defended but still damaged, locals leaving inland on transports. OMINATO completed operations. (See Report)
-Results: White Brick - Supply Lines defended. No advance made. OMINATO completed operations.(See Report)
-Results: Dirt 'n Roses - Targets eliminated. MAIZURU completed operations. (See Report)

>>457260
Sorry, but I am not rewriting again. I have a short fuse and do not want to light it by bothering with the details more than I have to.

PLEASE key in at least 30 minutes after the post so I can finish up quickly.

File: good day for xcom.jpg (75 KB, 612x336)

75 KB JPG

>>457261
Looks like it's been a good day for the Admiralty

>>457266
Thank this guy.
>>457234

>>457264
sorry didn't see the update, my bad.

>>457272
That's fine. We were less than 10 seconds apart.

>>457264
>>457266
thanks and sorry if i made you rewright things wasnt too sure how much time and since you didnt do anythign i just rolled
lucky you are nice this time we did a good job:)
if we keep doing this wil the ss sub fuck off? or can we make her one of us?

File: HEllO CoMMaNdeR.jpg (21 KB, 256x512)

21 KB JPG

You go over the operations, reading through them one by one. You find to your shock just how successful this particular run turned out to be, especially given that the last outing turned out to be nothing more than a box of nails. Every single mission with a green stamp? Incredible.

You’re thankful – for the first time since your induction, you are thankful that nothing had gone wrong in the big picture.

‘Well, because the Commanders were so successful, well, we’re supposed to give you this.’

The lanky attendant reaches into a folder, pulling out – surprise – another folder, this one with the seal of the Admiralty and the Court of Admirals’s emblem.

‘What do you mean by so successful?’ You do not like the implication.

‘Well, a better hold of things gives the Admiralty a better reign on things, yeah? Means they have more time, more resources to reinforce you.’ The fat attendant interrupts, smugly crossing his arms and gesturing with his head. ‘I mean, they may be unreasonable, but they’re not unreasonable – they know you guys do a hard job as Comman – !’

‘Attendant,’ you raise a hand, ‘I’d really like it if you would cut to the chase for me.’

‘It’s all in that piece of paper, sir.’ He gathers his things, grinning. ‘We’re just here to hand it over to you.’

‘We’ll be… doing our practice routine for tonight, sir. Have a good day!’

Their back is turned to you, shuffling out the door, muttering.

‘You too, gentlemen.’

You go over the letter.

To The Commander of the Yokosuka 1st Division,

In light of the recent success of the operations all-round, we would like to inform our heartiest and most sincere thanks in your continued efforts in the war. While we understand the situation that we have all come to face, and have come to terms with, it is imperative that you continue to strive for success on the front – and to our ultimate and only goal of total victory over the Abyssal threat and not be satisfied with this mere morsel of achievement.

That being said, however, due to the circumstances and the impressive record of performance in this round of operations, we have managed to procure enough resources to further increase the capabilities of the KanMusu you have at your disposal. The upgrade components will be delivered within 48 hours and will be signed off by the acting Admiral stationed at each base. The upgrades will, hopefully, allow you and your Divisions/Forces to continue bringing us closer to our endgame of peace.

SIGNED – Representative of the Court of Admirals

tl;dr: We’re upgrading the KanMusu because your Questers lucked the Hell out. Enjoy, you fat bastard.

You set the paper down, as surprised as you had been before.

That you did not expect.

Despite yourself, you smile, getting to your feet. You had some free time, and today didn't feel like it was going to be as bad as yesterday implied.

At least, you hope so.

5/5
>Execute TASK: Continue Inspection of Attacks
>Execute TASK: Deliver Letter to Mamiya's
>Look for KanMusu
>Seek out Officers/Staff
>District Management
>Write-In

>>457290
>>Execute TASK: Deliver Letter to Mamiya's
Wooh! Extra time!

And is Shigure done with her upgrades? Can we go see her?

>>457290
>Execute TASK: Deliver Letter to Mamiya's
May as we get it out of the way first.

>>457294
>>457296
You don't have paperwork today.

Besides, after the complaints last thread, you guys want more things to do, right?

Here's a hint.

There are some tasks that you can activate by talking to certain members that are not part of your Division - your Division's TASKS are mostly passive and given instead of active.

>>457290
>>Execute TASK: Deliver Letter to Mamiya's

>>457290
>>Execute TASK: Deliver Letter to Mamiya's

We've hit sage, so it's time for me to answer questions and listen to suggestions. Fire 'em up because it's break time until Page 6.

>>457332
I think you're aware of your faults, and I don't have any nice solutions at hand. But it's hard when player count is low.
I think it's mostly us players that need to communicate a bit better to each other. Me included.

>>457397
Also acount those who work or live on a different time
But overall that is correct

Can I have an update on the timezones of my Questers? Please and thank you.

>>462884
PST here

>>462884
UTC+1
or GMT+1

>>462884
EST

>>462884
CST

we are from fucking everywhere aint we?

>>463006
Seems you're probably European and at least 3 of us are North American

>>463010
meh, weekends i live the NEET lyfe so its not a problem on getting there or not
im allways here

>>462884
Est

Gmt +1

EST

EST here as well.

UTC +1

if anyone cares, kancolle got new ship girls
the warspite is in, and has actually good english i heard

also the abyssals goes vacations

>>462884
UTC

MECHANIC here. Just an update as to why there was no new thread yesterday.

No, didn't forget - had to pull an all-night with work. Kind of exhausted and will probably start up in 4 hours.

Also, seeing a lot of first time IPs. Any reason you folks have withheld on posting?