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/qst/ - Quests

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They call you the broken horn Leader, regardless of how long it takes. You run the Himehorn Support Center in order to help your kind (and, turns out, other kinds) from your room almost at the peak of the Greathorn, a colossal aircraft hovering over the calm waters that sunk the old world. A mechanical behemoth in which, explosed like a bloated vein, flows an elevator towards the peak.

Currently, you are looking at yourself in the big mirror, at the door opening behind your horns.

You step outside the elevator and turn to your right towards the techy black door at the end of the empty, very white aisle.
It opens.
Haremhorns surround a black desk at the center of a wide room, horned beings resembling girls with pale white skin; always naked, never talking, unless you push them to. You walk towards them as, from your left, the light from the massive, framed, circular window dimly lits the dark corners of the room.

You notice the back of a miniature swivel chair resting over the desktop as you aproach, as all the haremhorns turn as one to face you.

Then the chair turns.
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Two small black horns popping over short black hair and black eyes; it looks at you sharply, and you could tell it’s in disgust if you weren’t aware of who she is. You just stare and wait, as it takes a small leap from the chair and walks up to you, dragging her small black robe that’s just a bit too big for her tiny body. Once face to face, she clears her throat.

“We received a complain re-garding your dealings with the nohorns.”

T’s and D’s as Z’s; you let your silence tell the smallhorn to go on. She pauses and clears her small throat, a bit too loudly.

“The Support Center is for helping our hornmothers across the big thing. Not for nohorns. Don’t help the nohorns, the nohorns can help themselves. Or go home.”

You glace at the haremhorns staring at you at the ready, as if you were about to eat the Leader.

“Mostly,” she keeps up, “when there’s a hornmother in problems.”

Her black eyes with golden irises are fixed to yours.
Last thread:


"What's a himehorn?"

Great tips for getting ripped:

Do not smash your ankle against the edge of a table.
maybe i'm doing it wrong but I still don't know what a himehorn is.
>"But that sounds mean!"
On a scale of Lel to Grimdark how serious should I be?
That's just shameless advertising for my dear Leader.
Theeere you go!
Edgy grimdark with fingerless gloves and dead parents. Nah, just keep in mind it's a race of small little guys who barely just survived the biggest shitstorm. They try to be nice.
Then ask her why we can't help the no horns.
Thanks for that, I found that most interesting.

Do we actually have control over who gets help priority? Do we get calls with collar IDs that say: "no-horn" or "hornmother"?
Simply put: no.
Sometimes, the nohorns would try to mimic a hornmother's voice to get free help from the support center. You used to just play along and help them; most weren't that bad.
Btw, I'm waiting for a friend to join before I start. Don't hurry, I'll be updating every so often.
I'm here!

We should ask her why we can't help no-horns. They need help too, and some of them are nice.

You blink a few times. "That sounds mean. Some of the nohorns are friendly; we should-"

"Leave us."

The haremhorns rise and walk blankly past you, some whispering among themselves. They try to keep a distance from you, as if there was some sort of invisible bubble around you that they don't want to bust. Once the blunt sound of the door closing like an angry mouth, the smallhorn walks back to her chair and sits there.

"White's report says that our estimated resources will last us five months, at most, if we keep scavenging within our limits. Should the nohorns mantain this same level of upkeep, we may have to resort to invade their portion."

"You'd rather have them die on their own so it doesn't fall on us." you deadpan.

"If you have another plan" she says this, closing her eyes, "I welcome it."

You sigh. Ever since the Rain that flooded the entire world, subsistence is based on scavenging the sunken cities via submarines and hybrid crafts. It was a gamble; that we would be able to last until we found a constant source of resources before the cities grew empty.
That's why we break our eggs.
She's yawning; smallhorns nap a lot. Is there anything else to say?
I'll do what I have to. For the Herd.

In secret, I'll still talk to nohorns. See if they have any ideas on resources.
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You shrug. "All is for the Herd."

"I don't believe you at all and you know it." She frowns her eyes, already tired. "Try not to be silly, broken horn Leader."

You smile and nod, then turn and leave.

--(ミ ̄ー ̄ミ)

The door closes behind you as you stare at your wide room from over the small piramid staircase. It's big; pretty big for a single hornmother. There's one of those massive circular framed windows instead of a wall in front of you, surrounding and dwarfing the balcony where your big U shaped desk is, surrounded by a lot of strange devices and monitors. You walk down to the platform, and then up in the staircase long that gives to the balcony; as you take the last steps, Roomba is infront of you wearing something in her blonde head, something you have seen before.

"I'm back" you say. She keeps talking, and actually gesturing with her hands towards the black screen, which makes you blink a few times. You walk up to the nohorn, who towers over you like a babysitter and pat her leg under the black thighs. "I'm back."
Unstartled, she turns to you, pats your shoulder and keeps talking. You wait; once it's over, she takes off the black thing from her head, and places it in yours. You let her; it covers your ears, it feels puffy. You blink at her in confusion as she smiles.

"It's called a headset!" she states, excited. "I had Ado do the configuration and set all the wires. It comes with a microphone of its own."

"It's like Leaderhorn's boomer." you say as she rises from the chair and you take her place; the chair rises in height a bit after she gets behind you.

"Way better than the phones. It's... a bit big on you, but it looks cute, so that's that!"

You "hmm". "How am I going to do when many call me at the same time?"

"Oh, these would do. See this tiny screen?" she gently grabs your hand and places it over some green buttons. "It's the number of the line, if you push this up it changes the line, push it down and goes back."

"How many lines can I have?"

"More than enough!"


You smash the phone against the headset, knocking your own head. Roomba takes it from your hand and presses one of the green buttons.

"State your emergency."

"Um... hi! I, I need help..."

You "hmm", solemnly. It's not a hornmother.


"I... there's a wounded Arma in my hybrid ship. We are underwater. That... that piece of shit tried to kill her, he managed to get one of her arms. I don't know how much I will last, I think he's hovering over the surface!"
What piece of shit? Please be specific.
>Her? Is this person still alive?
>Do you have any options for escape...or...maybe fighting if you can't?
Only advising violence as a last resort.

Your arms start shaking. There's no need for her to elaborate on that particular kind of piece of shit. The only other think besides other Anythings, Hands, or other Armas that could harm them is a modified Pulsar sniper rifle. Making one for whatever reason is strictly banned, and a particular material related to scope manufacturing was banned to prevent Arma hunting. In this starving world, one drop of anima is worth a week of aircraft fuel or 5/6 gallons of water.

Armas are made from 5 liters of anima.

"Do you have any means to avoid confrontation? Or to defend yourself?"

"I'm a Manager, but I'm not sure I'll stand a chance."

Managers manipulate specific devices through gravity, as if they were the center of orbit.

You sigh. From the corner of your eye you notice Roomba staring at you, her eyes shining under her golden hair; she seems slightly concerned.
>What about ways to escape?
>Do you at least have a way to contain the creature?

It is looking less and less favorable for this individual.
What kind of devices do Managers manipulate. Maybe there's some dirty physics tricks.

I'm guessing that diving and running is not going to work because of the things in the water.
If they have a way to hold off the thing for at least a short while and a way to escape they may yet live.

Your balled up fist is bouncing up and down from the desk before you noticed.

"Elaborate on your standpoint. Can you find any way to escape?"

"I wouldn't be calling here, you fucking idiot!!"

"How's the Arma?"

She (you assume, given the shrill voice) pauses to catch her breath.

"Fainted. The arm is lost, she got her while she was flying around using GOG Gas, I'm sure she-she..." she pauses, and swallows. "I'm sure the Arma was just learning to fly. I could catch her when she fell and dived underwater. It seems this piece of shit is driving a S-U-BA, way faster than my Elogio, but he can't go down."

Suddenly, she stops talking. You wait a bit.

"Hello? Do you hear me?" you ask to the small black ball in front of your lips.

"It's still here. The S-U-BA is over me." It's panic; you can tell. "I don't know what's it's going to do, I'm diving deeper underwater just in case."

Manager's artificial orbit is usually just two meters long (Leaderhorn's is a quarter of a mile, but she's a whole different monster), and can move anything withing it's range, maybe even deflect a few shots in the worst scenario... of course, not a Pulsar sniper shot. As for the diving, there's the They lurking below...

"How long have you been there?"

She seems shaken. "The They could be here anytime soon, I guess that motherfucking piece of trash is waiting to pick the leftovers."

"Please wait in line."

"...Hey, what THE FU-"

You press the green button.

"It's like this?" you ask, Roomba nods at you. You then dial White's number on the small keyboard.

"White here, what do I get to kill?"

"Give me a rundown of Elogio's capabilites regarding underwater capabilites."

"Um, well, they have a radar in case of jumping Theys, for when they enter hovermode."

You hand is shaking.
Well we're poorly equipped for this situation.
At this point I'm surprised we haven't broken down hardcore.

>Reestablish contact with the distressed individual.

I'm gonna rest.
What about the S-U-BA? What's it got? Any flaws?
>Elgio's radar.

ASDJAKSD I meant S-U-BA's!!

Do whatever this anon says.

Ok, so the Elogio's got radar for They's

Or is that the S-U-BA that has the radar for They's?
S-U-BA's. Excuse this humble QM, I'm drawing faces as I wait for responses.
OK S-U-BA has radar, what's the Elogio got?

And can they fake a They? Just enough to spoof the asshole's radar?

I'm sure he'll run if something's coming for him from the deep.

"What about the Elogio?"

"Mind telling me what's going on?"

"Is there any way an Elogio can fake a They emerging towards the surface?"

"Not that I know of, but why would anyone do that?"

"Hold in line."

You press the green button.

"How's the current situation?"


No response. You stare blankly at the black screen, until Roomba's hand spawns from the corner of your eyes and slightly moves the green button.

"How's the current situation?"

"AS FUCKED AS THE MINUTE BEFORE, CAN YOU FUCKING HELP ME OR NOT? The piece of shit has me tracked, he's still over me no matter where I move!"
Can you, as a Manager fake a They coming for him?

Its all I've got. We have no weapons or craft that he won't just kill outright.
"Can you fake a They coming for him?"


"We do not posses any weapons or crafts to stand against a Pulsar rifle."

"You do. Don't give that shit to me. You have Armas, Raindancers, that fucking freak with the big horns-"

The call pauses. You focus on your ears; for a while, nothing sounds.

"...Please. Please help us."

She's crying.

What's a Raindancer.
Raindancer are a himehorn elite currently in development, led by Leaderhorn. They are strictly anti-personnel, and lack both in driving skills as in means to face aircrafts. Mostly, Raindancers are meant as the first line of defense against boarding hostiles, but could be used for invasion should transport be provided.
No help there. We don't have the fuel to spare.

Open the call. Tell her we're sorry, we have nothing that can help. Our Armas would die, just like yours. The Raindancers aren't mine to order out. The Leaderhorn doesn't take calls.

I'm sorry. Is there a message you would like to leave for anyone? Its all that I can do.
I've eaten. Watched TV and shit and I'm thoroughly calm.
Grimdark level has risen if we really can't do anything.

This job is very stressful.
End of the world, and we're just trying to help people.

You take off the headset. "Roomba, can I have some juice?"

She takes a bit to answer. "Sure!" It sounded cheerful enough...

After the steps get faint enough, you wear the device behind your horns, almost dropping it from all the shaking.

"We cannot afford to risk our Armas, and the Raindancers aren't mine to deploy. Leaderhorn is currently under deployment, as well." you pause. "I'm sorry." It came out rather low.

The line pauses; it feels like a whole hour came by, but it's still there.

"Is there..." you start, suddenly trying to sound cheerful, "is there a message you would like to leave? For anyone?"

...She's sobbing hard. You get a hand over your forehead, almost like trying to push an idea that could solve it all from out of it. Pressing.

It doesn't work, and the line gets cut. You don't even sigh; or move, for that matter. Not even startling you, White spawns in the mid black screen in front of you.

She frowns one eyebrow. "Hey, what was that all about?"

Nothing to say.
Nothing to do.
Nothing we can fix.

What's your status?
You sigh. "Nothing we can fix. How are you doing?"

"That's a sigh;" she's pointing at you from the other side of the screen, almost menacingly, "I can tell. I've head quite a few sighs over the years. And sighs..."

"You are only six years old, White, and sighs are the daily pay of the Himehorn Support Center."

"Yeah, I can tell." She smiles faintly at you. "I hope it wasn't too bad. Oh I'm free by the way."

You nod, then cut. The footsteps behind you get stronger by the second, yet you can't manage to do but stare at the desk.
It was no joke. Doubt and regret (along with good ideas that come far too late) are your himehorn daily life. That's why you take those pills; Ado says they help the mood, and so far he was right. Too bad you can't stop shaking.

You turn the chair and manage to grin at the plate full with dishes.

"You shouldn't eat too much, though!" says Roomba, almost scoldingly.

"That's mean, why did you bring so much then?"

"You get to choose."

You stare at her blankly, then at the plate.

"Can I choose later? You can leave this here, and I'll pick as I go."

She pouts at you, crossing her arms over her chest. It makes you-RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING

You smash the telephone over the headset, again, then hurry to press the green button.

"State your emergency."


It's a voice you know. Along a shrill, deafening sound.
Oh horns. Is it Driving Hornmother?
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Nnnnnope, it's the girl you just spoke to. Driving Hornmother got her licence revoked by Leader, and is currently pouting.

Also Roomba for future reference!
>You're alive?
>What's going on?
Well it's semi good news that she's alive.

No nightmares for us yet.

White, how do you kill a sniper with a modified pulsar rifle?
You slam the green button and deal White's number twice as fast as usual.
"White!" you find yourself gasping, "how would you deal with a modified Pulsar sniper rifle?"
The Arma stares at you blankly from the screen. Then her pupils go up.
"I'd, hmm, emm... that depends, do I know where it is?"
"You do."
She shrugs. "Guess I'd go behind a very wide EKE shield. If I get within range, my GOG gas would do the rest."
And why wouldn't you get in range?

(I'm not going to send on a suicide run)
"And why-why hasdjkhasjkd, wait- what could stop you, from getting in range?" you stutter, suddenly grabbing the edge of the desk at full strengh.

"Weeeeell, if there was, like, five Pulsar rifles I don't think your average bird would hold the EKE. Why? Why do you ask?"
Pause, change lines

How many people are shooting at you? How many are there on that S-U-BA?

If the answer is 1 or 2, then go back to White

I've got someone on the line with a wounded Arma. Shooter's got a pulsar rifle. Here they are. DO NOT GET KILLED.
"Wiat wait in line!!"
You slam that green button so hard your nail cracks.
"This is the himehorn support center are you"
biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip
This time your nail breaks.
"Head for 3251-5123 it's a single shooter there's an Arma Hunter with a Plasma-"

"Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii knew it!!!"

"-rifle preying over a hybridcraft underwater we lost contact there's a wounded Arma DO NOT GET KILLED GO!"
bip, that was White.
You let yourself drop on the chair, feeling every drop of sweat on your forehead. Savagely, you turn to Roomba.
"Hold my hand. Now."
Her eyes wide, she complies. You face the black screen, squeezing your thigh with the other hand.

Five minutes pass. Nothing happens.

Ten minutes pass. You swallow.



You almost knock yourself out with the phone this time, Roomba goes for the button but you intercept and tackle her finger.


"Um... is this the Himehorn Support Center?" It's a soft but "tall voice", you guess it's a man. "I'm, uh, a nohorn I think. I'm a newbie Pilot and I just got this anima suit. There's no manual or anything, what should I do? It's a Heimaker model."

What's an anima suit?
And what make the models different?
Hold the line, please

To Roomba: do we have operators manuals?
"Are you willing to donate?" We will nag us less if we start to charge the no horns stuff. Heck even if they just sent some junk it would help.
You quickly tip the words on the small window under the big words "THE LINK"; you've been getting fast at this.

"PFS's, now commonly known as "anima suits" or "anima vests" (not to be confused with "anima armors") are the predominant method for quick refueling or anima-powered devices attached to different parts of a body. They work as an external circulatory system that holds, distributes, and manages small amounts of anima.
(You notice a few pictures over the statement; nohorns of all shapes and sizes (along a haremhorn you are dead familiar with) wearing a skin-tight black fabric of sorts that covers the whole body up until the neck.)
Anima suits are used widely for their capability to adapt and uphold an EKE that mimics the features,shapes, and movements of the wearer, including the face and neck if one attachs a ETA-32 AD. They requiere up to five drops for a two week upkeep."

You press a few more buttons.

Mi Abass's-

Upon a bit of research, you notice the main difference between the suits is the manufacturer, and a few things here and there.
"P-please hold in line!"
"Um... ok!"

You turn to Roomba.


She seems startled, yet still holds your hand.

"Broken horn Leader, don't you mean the pilots manual?"

"...Oh, you can hear what I say?"

"He talks very loud. And we have the link, why would we want a manual, it's like the manual for everything! Don't you think so?"

You nod absentmindedly, then press the green button again.


You press it once more.

"Are you willing to donate to the Himehorn Support Center?"
"Sure, you guys are ok. Is there an amount or anything?"
"Even junk will do."
"Er, alright I guess."
You nod to the screen, between panic and relief; that will soothe the small wrath of Leader. You click the Heimaker page.
"According to this manual, you need to adapt the suit to your body. It takes two days, and you have to be inside a water tank... of sorts, If I'm not mistaken."

You can clearly hear he screaming "FUCK!" away from the line.

"Yeah, I though that was a joke, I even laughed. Well, thanks for helping us sad fucks, I'll see to the Greathorn when I get the time."

Besides the issue of letting nohorns inside the Greathorn, this might help greatly in the long run; if resources are the issue, then at least we got something to offer in exchange. Leader most likely didn't want them to get a mile near the Greathorn for security measures; but you'll work out a way to get the goods. It can't be that hard.


Roomba gets between you and the phone and gets smashed in the cheek and down to the floor. You hesitate, but take the call.

"State your emergency."

"White here."

You forget how to breathe. She clearly clears her throat across the line.

"Long story short: Hunter in chains, They obliterated, ship wrecked. Both nohorn and Arma are safe."

You cletch Roomba's hand tightly.

"You and I...!," she goes on, seeming smug, "are going to have a long talk once I get back home."
Help Roomba up. Say sorry. Have victory snack.

Ask White if there's any salvage from the hunter.
"By the way, we should eighter get a mail adress that works or a donation center made .. about a mile and a half from here. Othewise we won't get donations. Or more likely get an abandoned building and fix it. Then do reclamation on it. Can we even do reclamations? I mean if we fixed it jn the first place and is tegnicaly for charity... "
Everything on this world is underwater. We're in a flying base..ship...thing.
You push your arm back, dragging the Fake up. "Sorry." you mutter, still staring at the screen. "I think we have to celebrate."
From the corner of your eye, you notice her smile beaming.
"I think I agree!" she hands you a donut without letting go. You both push from each side, splitting it in half.

"White," you take a bite from the donut, almost biting your tongue, "mind being a bit more specific?"

"A They came after them, but the Arma had woken up and managed to hold it for a while. It still tackled the ship, and dragged it deeper underwater. That's where I come in; since this... absolute piece of trash was aiming for them, I got a few nice seconds of initiative. Got close, crushed his ship, took him out. Then I went after them, the Arma saved the boy from the They before I got the chance. A real hero!" White pauses. "She fainted again, though."

You ponder. "How bad is it crushed? I was thinking we could use a ship to gather donations to the Support Center. Leader doesn't want me to help the nohorns, so I'm giving her a good reason like that."

White pauses again. "But why?"

"If you are good at something, never do it for free." You stare blankly at the future. "I'd rather keep it about a mile and a half from here. For good measure."

She pauses a third, perhaps final time. Or perhaps the line is going slow. "Well, I did a good job... but the other ship is doing better, I guess. It belongs to the boy though. We could fix the Imbecile's ship alright, but it's very, very crushed. I can only take one ship, what do I do?"
Fix the boy's ship. No point in saving him just to strand him. While its being repaired, check it for something we can have as compensation for our efforts.
"Get the ship that's in better shape. Unless we have an expert fixing ships somewhere? And the boy... well that's a problem. I mean I guess we could have someone pick the donations from his ship but that would be too wasteful. And... no, a disguise would be silly... and you don't want to take the boy as your mate, right? I mean, are we even biologicaly compatible? We do need a way to increase our numbers... mmm... but a huge population boom would reduce our resources too fast. And a way to convert female humans into horny ones? I think I heard something about that but I think it was in the fantasy section..."
So! Two ways to go about it:
1) Fix boy's ship. It's the less crushed one.
2) Fix hunter's ship. It's way better for air travel, but can't go underwater. Then-
a) give it to him.
b) keep it.
c) ask him to get donations?

Himehorns reproduce by having the hornmothers lay eggs, and Armas are stripped from all their memories and organs (except brain and nerves) during the procedure. Basically, White is the least sexual thing ever.
Fix boy's ship and ask him to get donations.

The cost to us is less, the ship is more useful, and it may not actually be his, so if we take it, that could cause more problems.
"Go fetch the boy's ship before it sinks too deep."

"Um, I have to bring it to the Greathorn then right?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Of course, where would you take it?"

"Well... what are you gonna do about, you know, Leader?"

"I'm going to make her angry." you deadpan, in peace. "Get the boy on the line."

The line goes silent; then you hear a dim, blunt sound.

"I have a request to ma-"

"You! Fuck you! What the fuck is wrong with you, you almost had us killed you piece of shit!"
. Be glad my Arma was available, and knew how to deal with pulsar rifles.I can't help you for free. My Arma can't risk its life for free.

You are going to look for things of value or use to us. You will not steal or bully for them. Donations only to support this emergency centre.

This is what has to happen, or I can't even answer the calls anymore. And anyone else will just hang up on you, including my replacement.
"It was me that sent that Arma, White. Why did you think I did it?"

He pauses. "Because it's your fucking job, that's why!"

"My job is to support and keep tab of our wandering hornmothers and their endeavors. I did it because I wanted to. I hesitated because I had to assess the risks."

The line goes silent, but you can bet he's still there.

"Be glad my Arma was available, nohorn, and knew how to deal with pulsar rifles. I can't help you for free. My Arma can't risk it's life for free."

You still don't hear a word from the other side. Not even a "but".

"I have a request to make. You are going to look for things of value or use to us. You will not steal or bully for them. Those are donations to support this emergency centre."

Finally, a word. "...but, how?"

"We shall fix your ship. This is what has to happen, or I can't even answer the calls anymore. I'm going against or edicts, I'm taking a risk you are going to protect. Because otherwise, anyeone else will just hang up on you, including my replacement. Or on anyone else that needs help."

You let that sink.

"Make no mistake," you finish, "this is a trade. Not a gift."

He, as anyone else, gets to choose wheter they want the Support Center live or not. It's up to them now.


You smile. Roomba is staring quizzically at you.

"...but," he goes on, "what about the Arma? She lost an arm to save me..."
That's between you and her. I know we do not have the means to repair an unknown Arma at this time.
Its getting early here. I can't stay awake much longer. Do you want to pick this up again tomorrow?

"Do you mean she lost another arm?"

"What? No, I..."

You sigh. "That's between you and her.. White will take the both of you here, and you will stay while we fix your ship. Please hand her the device."

The line goes silent.


"Bring them here with the Elogio. The hunter too. Let the S-U-BA sink."


The line gets cut. And... that's it for that. It was too narrow; too close. It came out alright, regardless, because you took a big chance. And now they are coming here, to the Greathorn, and you got a lot to explain to Leader.

Roomba gently takes the headphones from your head, and you finally let go of her hand. You won't waste any resources that could stop you from going into panic; it's, perhaps, the main part of this job.

You sigh. You got a /lot/ to explain to Leader...
We are done for today, session is over! We can resume whenever we feel like it, I think that as long as we open a scenario and close it the continuity won't suffer at all. This took a lot longer than I expected, but it was because I picked fun over sleep.

Anyway, good night. Or good sleep. Happy horns!
Happy Herd!

I agree. One scenario start to finish is best. Fun is better than sleep, but sleep is better than being exhausted at work.
Happy Herd indeed
Bye haremhorn!
nice one
Good night, rest well.
Already did l3l
Then you are posting again already? Wash your face, polish your horns and eat well. Then go back to those calls.

Wo we have a platonic love? Since sex for our race is eww
Instead of "eww" is more like "what?", because we are the ones that don't mind being naked all the time.
But yeah, it's pretty platonic! I'm gonna get some well-deserved breakfast, then post away.
Is cuddling/snuggling alright, though? Answer carefully, as cuddling and snuggles are serious business.
Totally alright! Himehorns are very affectionate towards each other, particulary the haremhorns. A happy hornmother lays happy eggs; and happy eggs turn into more himehorns. Sadly, those get smashed lately; overpopulace is a serious issue!
In that case, I would like to put in motion a petition to have all support personnelhorns be allowed a 15-20 minute snuggle break, in addition to the standard lunch break, in order to increase morale and reinforce a positive working atmosphere. Naturally, the support personnelhorn group includes us.
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Aww, I missed the first session! Did you mention it on twitter at all?
First session was a while ago, Roomba! It's still just a test quest between me and Steve, but it's going well so far. =w=

I'm stealing every second I can to write, just take a walk and some fresh air in the meantime!
Waiting Warmly

"So;" From her small chair surrounded by haremhorns, Leader seems rather... bored, "you helped the nohorns. And they are here. Inside the Greathorn. And we are fixing their ship."

You think it over, then nod. She bounces fingers on the ledge of the chair, then softly gestures with her chin at you.

"I have made arrangements." you start, after some silence. "We get to improve our relationship with the other factions while obtaining a steady source of resources, in exhange for our aid."

"Though donations." she states, opening her small palm.

"Through donations." you nod, again. "They will want us here if we are useful. It's the nature of all investment."

"Leave us." she deadpans, still fixing her eyes at you.

"No need to do that all the time, Leader." you raise an eyebrow as the haremhorns silently make way past you.

Yet, you wait. Until the blunt sound of the door closing behind you.

"Broken horn Leader; today, I'm gambling my trust in you." She stops, then stands from the chair, and beckons you with a small white hand.

Once you are near, she sits at the edge of the desktop, facing you. "You are aware of the nature of the Link."

"A pledge of loyalty from the West House."

Leader nods. "Meant for us. Exclusively us. The West House wants to jeopardize the Link, to keep control of it."

"I though they just lacked the means to distribute it."

"They do. They can't share the Link, and they don't want to share the Link; they want to keep control of all the information."

"What for?" you ask.

She shakes her head.

"Their single condition was to keep the nature of the Link a secret." she speaks softly, yet firmly for a horned thing you could step on. "Should the nohorns figure out the nature of the Link, the West House will doubtlessly end all support. Perhaps, even turn against us." She stands, then heads for her chair. "I don't think we can afford that, do you?"

You sigh; you let her reach the chair, and take a few spins in it. "Any other secrets being kept from me?"

"I don't trust you." she states directly, still spinning on her small chair over the desktop.


The small screen finally marks "72" in the elevator. The big black doors move to the sides, and your eyes widen just a little at the big, very fit, shirtless nohorn with wide long gold hair standing in front of you. You step outside, and keep walking past him towards the himehorn support center.

"You fucks are the worst hornmothers I've ever seen." you hear behind you. "Cute as choking on a brick."

The door to your room opens as you place your clawed feet next to it. "Someone" you groan, "has to keep the best ones alive."

The door closes behind you. Hmm, you forgot to thank Ado for the headphones.

Roomba is still dealing with the support center, and right now, from what you can hear from the entrance, she seems busy. Rarely, you get these frail moments of spare time; usually spent on eating sweets and playing with your fluffy toys.

What now?
playing with your fluffy toys.( what type of toys are we talking about her buddy?)

do we have any friends? mybe call trash?
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Pretty much one of these! Hornmothers in general are pretty childish, even Leaderhorn who towers over nohorns with her 7 feets and scowl of death.

Anything in particular you wanna bother Trash with?
omg i need to see leaderhorn playing with her fluffy toys now or whatever she dose need this in my life.
i guse cheacking up on her, she hasnt called in a bit and we are worred she might have died??
also ask her if she has any toys for us?
this is sweet that goign with differnt pov
This. Also hug Roomba
Take a few moments with our toys. And a snack with juice. Listen to Roomba, what's she working on?
'Roomba are you playing videogames during work hours again?"
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Well, she's doing well enough, or at least that seems, and the chances you get to be silly and play are so few already you may have forgotten how to.
Yet, there's curiosity. You walk down the ramp, and as you go across the platform the stairway hides Roomba until you climb it, her golden hair under sprouting from the edge under the headset.

"It must be FIRMLY sealed," you hear Roomba rumble, "or an anima leak could get in contact with one of the wires. Yes I know they are sealed, but just one small gap would be enough to blow your entire airship out of the sky. Please bear with me in this, I know it is troublesome."

Hmm. Someone must be customizing an engine. It's done a lot lately, most air and hybrid crafts are set to sustain a battery that allows for full speed bursts should they be needed. The thing is, they usually never are, and keeping the system ready, if not a lot, some fuel most would rather spare. Of course, if you get chased you won't be able to run that much, but things have been a lot peaceful as of late, despite "natural" catastrophes... and spending too much anima is a slow death in its own.

By the sounds of it, Roomba seems to be struggling.

"No- yes, I see. Listen, it's like wearing a helmet when you are going full speed on a hovercraft." She pauses. "But dear, that's not cool at all, you are risking your life like that. Think of all your friends and..."

She pauses, again. And sighs; a sigh you've met. By the looks of it, someone doesn't want to set the EKE barrier around the engine because you have to dismantle it every single time you have to touch the thing. It takes time to configure, and it's a drag when you have to touch the thing over and over... but it keeps the gasified anima inside. Simply put: anima + electricity = explosion. It's the 1+1 of this world. You hardly ever push an engine enough to evaporate the anima, and the odds of having an exposed wire at the same, and having the gas touch it are, well, low.

Yet, ships explode.

You wait her up; once she's done and her "Have a nice da-" is cut short by the biiiiip, you walk up to her and hug her. You don't even have to crouch; she's a head taller than you. Soon enough, she's scratching your forehead with hers.

"I'm taking a break." you say, in the usual neutral tone you had to develop to keep people out of panic. "Where are the snacks and juice? I'll go get them."

She gives you a card; it has her picture in it.

"You leave, turn left, right, then right and there's the door. Put this in the socket, and be careful because it pushes it out in force." she grins at you. "Don't get fat or I'll be a bad haremhorn."


Left, right, right. Piiiiiim

Soon, you are stepping out of the warehouse, through the very white aisle with your arms reeking with snacks of all shapes and size. Hornmothers passing by stop and stare, some with their mouths gaping; you let some of the merchandise fall from you on purpouse, not looking back.

"What? Is for sharing! And yes my horn is broken, get over it."
Most makes it to your room, though. You can /feel/ Roomba's eyes behind the pile of food that clouds your vision, you know this room so well by now you don't even need to see where the U shaped desk is. Once you drop the tasty mountain at the side, that's when you turn to face her pouting face.

"I bought you some food." you deadpan, very sure of yourself.

She smirks at you. Roomba rises from the chair as you walk from the other side, in your usual swapping routine. There has been no calls in the last five minutes, which is almost a blessing, and you still feel a bit bored. Black eyes fixed on the black screen, you grab your Leaderhorn shaped plushie and dial a number you are way too familiar with.

"YOU calling ME? This can't be good. Is Horny ok?"
"Can you see me from there?"
"Yeah, why? I got the biggest TV."
Switfly, you pour some ketchup on the Leaderhorn plushie and leave it face down over the desk, as you hide under it.
"Turn it on."
You wait a little, line goes silent for a second.
"...We really need to work on your humor. Besides, ketchup doesnt go out you idiot."
You ponder at this the best part of two seconds, as you rise to meet Trash across the screen. "It's ok, I think it fits." You don't let Trash answer. "Are you dead?"
"Where are you?"
"Is it happy over there?"
You can /feel/ her smile. "You could say that."
"How is she?"
"Sleeping. Anything else?"
biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip, you cut the line. She's ok. That's nice.
"Ketchup goes out, actually." A soft voice bangs behind your head, as you make a bleeding Leaderhorn fight against the evil banana, master of deceit.
Roomba FIRMLY grabs your hand, stopping you from sinking the headset into your ear.
"State your emergency."
Serious mode: on. "State your coordinates and elaborate upon your situation. How's your hornmother?"
"SHE'S OK BUT SAD. 3362-2512. HELP"
Let's just say you aren't in the best terms with the rest of the hornmothers. Thanks to a big lot of bad luck, you had to take some HARD choices that left everyone doubting and wondering if you could have done better; choices involving the lifes of those around you. It left a scar.
*Hug hornmother first
Send something fast to pick them up. Who's available?
*Hug hornmother first
do you know what happened to the fuel
if you can get to the life boats
il end someone over to pick you up
The small menu pops in the screen.

CAPTAIN: Deployed.
WHITE: Available.

Hmm, that reminds you of the nohorn and the broken Arma... also, what have the Leaderhorn and Captain been doing all this time? Anyway...

"Hug your hornmother and stay in line."
You press the green button above, and press a particular sequence of numbers.
"3362-2512, sinking hornship, go."
Green button, again.
"White has been deplyed, please standby for rescue. Do you know what happened to the fuel?"
"Ok, is there any issue you can tell with the-RIIIIIIIIIIIIING please stay in line."
Green button, green button.

"State your emergency."
"She's killing everyone."
You feel all blood running away from your face; it should be white as a cloud by now.
"It's Leateli." The voice is sharp, heavy, and faint; most likely a nohorn, and most likely one of those humans. "She boarded our EVERMARK. She's alive. She's still alive. She's fucking killing everyone, I'm hiding in the basement." The voice pauses. "...I shat myself. She's going to find me. Send help."
You give yourself at least ten seconds to let the blood get back to your face. Then, you dial Leader's number.

"This better be important."
"Leateli has been spotted."
"This is important."
None of you say a word.
After the Chasm, everyone had hoped it was a joke. It wasn't; she won. Which means that, if by any means or ways Leateli is killed or rendered unconcious for six hours...

The whole world ends.

"...I'm raising this issue to the First, Second, Fourth, and the Seventh. Don't intervene. Raise the alarm. Alert everyone you can of her proximity."
"He didn't told me the coordinates."
"Then call him back immediately."

You swallow.
panic slightly, calm down, call them back and get co-ordinates.

Hug soft toy tightly.
panic slightly, calm down, call them back and get co-ordinates.

Hug soft toy tightly.
>Take a deep breath. Make the call, then eat comfort food. Sure this is big but you work at a call center, you are mostly used to stuff like this now.
You feel some pressure on your hand and turn to Roomba crouching next to you, her face a bit too close to yours. It seems to work... at least a bit. You break the charm and fix your eyes on the phone at your left, and then on the screen; then to Roomba's fingers dancing slowly on the keyboard, until a white window filled with black numbers pops in the screen.
"It's the one at the top." She seems so calm; you wonder if she know's what's going on.
You dial the number.


...He's right.

"Please state your coordinates." you ask, your hand clutching the plushie perhaps a bit too hard.


...He's right. Yet again.
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This time, out of many times, you really don't feel used to this...
Roomba, is there a way for the nohorn to find out? Can we just find out from here?
"Roomba, is there a way for the nohorn to find out? Can we just find out from here?"
"I'll... Let's bring Ado!"

bip bip bip bip


The blonde, shirtless nohorns towers over the both of you.

"We have one fine fucking radar, that you can engrave in your forehead with a stone without shame. Too many ships; that's the choke-point. And even if our radar is one ass-blowing salsa bomb, you can't ask the poor thing to cover more than a five miles radious. Something between 450 at every side from where we are right now."

"So we can't find it from here."

He nods. "Holy mother of half the fucks I didn't gave at school; Leateli wasn't fucking around."

"Fucks must be very important." you deadpan, as usual.

"But, is there any way for the nohorn to find out?" Roomba almost mutters, the panic perhaps spreading.

Yet Ado may be immune, as he nods.

"Get the guy to a console; that's the only way. Pray the man has access to the database. There's no other way."

They really do
Yet suits don't!

Happy horns! Happy Herd!
Give the bad news to the nohorn.

He's got to get to a console and read us the co-ordinates.
You press the green button, then press it again because you forgot the first time.

"We need you to gather the coordinates for us, by any means you can muster. If you manage to get across a console-"

"WUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAT??" Then, he pauses. "-why the fuck would I do that, lady?!"
So we can rescue you. We can't rescue you if we can't find you.
"Cordinates or death, pick one."
"We can't rescue otherwise, don't you think? This is either coordinates... or death. Pick one!"
The line goes silent for a while....
"...oh mother, watch over me, oh holy shit..."
"Mother-fucker." It's Ado, he beams somehow. "Now that was rash."
You sigh. "I do not enjoy it, but sometimes a bit of pressure is in order... panic doesn't help much with thinking.
"So is he going?"
"He is."
"Good luck, unknown faggot in distress."
You raise an eyebrow. "Roomba, is Ado one of those psychopaths?"
"Nah." Ado interrupts Roomba. "I just suffer my own way."
All three of you now stare at the black screen, as if something would pop inside the big monitor at any time.

A while goes on.


You press the green button as Roomba grabs your arm rightly.
"State your emergency."
"White here! Horns secured!"
You blink a few times over.
Oh good. Can you find out why they ran out of fuel?

And then bring them home.
"And bring cereal and milk, we are out of it."
"What happened to the fuel?"
"It's just another case of hornmother driving; it has a full tank, it's just that this cute horned little thing here-" you hear an audible high pitched pout in the background, "activated SOS mode and ran with the spare battery of the ship until it ran out."

"Can you bring them home?"

"They could even go on their own if they wanted to."
You aren't exactly short by any means on things to munch on. Neither in the mood to crack silly jokes.
If they're fine, send them on their way with a stern lecture.

Then return to base.
But we want cereal with milk!
"Scare them a while and send them on their way. Even if sinking inside a winged coffin should be enough. Then head back."


You hear sobbings in the background as you end the call.

You turn towards the lovely blonde maid.
"Roomba, cereals and milk now. NOW."
The blondes share a swift look with each other, then Roomba gently pryes her hand off yours and jogs towards the exit.
"Is there some magic to cereals and milk that I don't know? Like, do they make you shit less hard?" Ado sounds genuinely curious.

And nobody is calling.
Hug stuffed toy. Wait. Hope for the best. Expect disaster.
How are you on time?
Running low. Sleep will take me soon. I even cancelled on that socializing I mentioned earlier.
Then; that's it for today! Go sleep, fix your schedule. I'll drop post every now and then, then we'll see to run hard on the weekends. Good night. =w=
Work has me Tuesday through Saturday, so I'll check in in the evenings (its late evening now)

Happy Horns! Thanks for running. Its lots of fun.
"Eh, I just like cereal and milk."
"Cereals are said to be healthy but I don't know if that only applies to humans and other mammals."
"Is the breakfast of champions!"

Someone is shitting his pants in a ship full of corpses while we give a speech about why cereals are better than love.

Soon, guys, soon. ;w:
That doesn't sound very hygienic.
Is this dead?
Nah, OP's just busy as hell. Maybe tomorrow, anon!

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