[a / b / c / d / e / f / g / gif / h / hr / k / m / o / p / r / s / t / u / v / vg / w / wg] [i / ic] [r9k] [cm / hm / y] [3 / adv / an / cgl / ck / co / diy / fa / fit / hc / int / jp / lit / mlp / mu / n / po / pol / sci / soc / sp / tg / toy / trv / tv / vp / x] [rs] [status / ? / @] [Settings] [Home]
Settings   Home
/qst/ - Quests

File: MQfree.png (85 KB, 960x580)
85 KB
"You might be a smart girl, but you aren't a lucky one"

You play as Delilah, an unfortunate young girl going through tough times.

Right now, we are currently playing as Lawrence!
=Links and Information=


Thanks to an anon, here is the pastebin of just the text. With threads purposely being misarchived, this should be available and accessible instead:
Melancholic Quest Collection 1 (1-4): http://pastebin.com/hTK0fQmd
Melancholic Quest Collection 2: http://pastebin.com/cX4HC6Q9
Melancholic Quest Collection 3: http://pastebin.com/sTuR8xJv
Melancholic Quest Collection 4: http://pastebin.com/RPwa7nEt
Melancholic Quest Collection 5: http://pastebin.com/DJ71TtFc
Melancholic Quest Collection 6: http://pastebin.com/xxCdZfx6
Melancholic Quest Collection 7: http://pastebin.com/7skcyeX0

Quick Glance (SPOILERS) The quick Who is Who and what Delilah has. Mostly accurate.:


Twitter; @Cowboy_Sue
Discord; https://discord.gg/8CCdcQ3 <--updated to be working
Chat room with me and other players. I answer questions, post sketches, and act cheeky.
He's got his back towards you, ready to walk back to the front it seems. There's only a few feet worth of distance between the two of you, and it would take no time at all to cover it. You take a moment to prep yourself up, trying steady the racing heart in your chest before even trying to rush in. There's been guys bigger than him in the past, ones that had friends to back them up, and you went into those fights head-on and came out alright in the end. This is just one guy, that's nothing. Any other time and you wouldn't even be having second thoughts about it, so just go.

Go ahead and do it, and you damn well better do it right

Sneak forward, watching every step you take. You even hold your breath, everything to keep your noise down. The man is trudging forward through the snow, taking his leisure. Every high step her takes out of the snow is matched by one of your own, working to edge in the distance. Once he rounds the corner you can move in quicker and nab him, easy enou-

He comes to a sudden stop, and you prepare to rush him. Just as you have began to to move a warm glow lights his face, the low flame of a lighter at hand. Far too late to stop, you still attempt to reel back your hard step forward only to fumble and fall against the house. Once the man looks back, wide eyed and cigarette hanging from his mouth, it becomes too late for any sort of retreat or planning. All you can do is sprint forward and pray that you're faster than the hand reaching into his coat.

The first thing you come to realize upon grabbing the man is that he's not frail, not in the slightest. He's forced to take steps back, but he sure as hell isn't knocked to the ground like you wanted. Your focus is on his right hand, the one tucked away inside his coat. A gun can't get involved with this, not like this. Despite his struggling you manage to pull his hand away, but the only sign of silver comes from the watch around his wrist. This only leaves you with mere seconds to prepare for the fist coming from his left, knuckles cracking from their connection to your face. You grit your teeth past it, refusing to lose your stance or hold on him.

For a fight between two grown men, it's rather silent. Maybe you both know what's at stake, that there is no withdrawing or truce to be had. Someone has to win in this fight and by god it has got to be you.

One thing you've come to notice is that every move this guy makes is precise, knowing how to keep from being cornered or held down. He's quick at recovering from everything you throw at him, much more than you had expected. Either you can't land a hit on him or when you do it barely grazes him. This is going to get fought to the tooth and nail, it's taking everything you can to keep him from escaping to the car. You realize that the house can serve as an advantage right now, and prepare your footing once again. A punch comes your way again and this time you willing accept it, pushing past the pain in your shoulder as you move. The man has to recover from the swing, and so you take the one chance you have. His nose is your first target, getting crushed beneath your forearm. As he attempts to recoil your arm goes lower, leaning against his throat now. You recognize his choking as getting the damned air knocked out, something you're rather familiar with.

His hands try to reach inside his coat once again, but the growing pressure you exert on his neck becomes worrying. His nails scratch against your coat in vain and as painful as it might be he manages to mouth 'I give'.

With just enough slack he can breathe again, but you are quick to motion for him to remain silent. He follows your direction fairly well, not putting up a struggle as you lead him to the window. Your arm remains locked around his neck, making sure to keep your grip extra tight as you knock against the glass.

"Hey there cowboy," John says as he helps pull the man inside, "You and us bout to have a little talk."

"A uh...a talk sounds rather nice right now." He responds, blood stained teeth as he no longer tries to stop the bloody nose you gave him.
When he's told to raise his arms up high he complies, blood dripping down his face and to the floor as he's frisked. Eric and Mabel stand at the stairway, there's no doubt that Aria is trying to keep the kids in check.

"Don't know what you were thinkin'," John says, pulling out cigarette box from the man's coat. "You come up here with tools to jimmy the look, but you don't bring anythin' to defend yourself? You know, they been talkin' about a buncha thieves running around these streets. " He opens the box and examines the contents, moving them about. "Looks like you're runnin' pretty low here too, you really come that unprepared?"

"Mind passing one up then? Lost mine out in the snow." John follows the request, putting the cigarette in place for him. "Now, you think you could light it?" I would, but uh..." He looks back to Mabel, who works on securing his hands behind his back with zip ties.

"I'll help ya with the lighter if you play nice." John flips the small piece of plastic between his fingers, taunting him with it.

"I guess if them are your rule-" He flinches as Mabel finishes the secures, his arms now kept behind his back. "Think you could get 'em any tighter?" His attempt at friendliness gets shot down by her dark glare, tightening what she can further in spite.

"Fucking creep." She spits, moving back towards John. He sets the lighter on the table, opting to hold a pocketknife instead.

"You can start talkin' whenever you like," the blade flicks out enough to show it's silver blade, John holding it with a steady hand, "But you outta know, I got a much bigger one of these waitin'."

"I gotcha I gotcha, just give me a sec..." he takes a moment to spit, dark red making its stain on the wood. "Well, guess I should introduce myself. If you check out my wallet you got there, you'll see that I'm one Mr. Crockett, and a, well a private investigator."

"Okay. Now tell us something we want to know."

"Well let me start with, I'm awfully sorry this is how we had to meet. But you wouldn't answer the door, so had to do what I do best. Really do wish it could have been better though."

"God, just get to the point of it man!" Mabel says annoyed and anxious.

""Sorry bout that ma'am, just a bit hard to think when all my blood is making a puddle on the floor..." You take the obligation, bringing a rag to his face and attempting to help with the bleeding. "Thank you, didn't think you'd be the one doing this." You give a light squeeze with the fingers touching his face, letting him know that you're more than willing to return to how it was outside.

"Alright alright how about this, you got any buddies headin' this way to back you up?" John asks, irritation leaking in his voice.

"No sir. Usually do work best alone, and tonight's no different."

"And why was your work here?"

"Been hired by a very lovely customer, just trying to do what she's paying me for-" The squeezing continues, harder than before. "-ah. Well then, I don't suppose you folks have seen a young lady named Delilah, have you? Just trying to get her back to family."

You resist the urge to hurt him, put to this you end up stepping away with the bloody rag at hand.

"Family, huh? And who'd that be?"

"Well usually I'm supposed to keep that confidential, gotta respect the customer's privacy." Crockett somehow manages to hold his grin even at the flick of John's knife.

"Not really gonna be able to do a good job if you're at the bottom of the bridge."

"Bridge, huh? Always figured I'd end up in a shallow grave somewhere," he rebalances the cigarette at his mouth, the blood above his nose beginning to dry. "Though, I suppose it would make that young lady's grandma rather sad if I didn't finish my job."

"Granny? Yeah, sure." Mabel doesn't hold back this time, stepping towards him. "You really expect us to let you get that poor girl's hopes up, just to have you whisk her to who knows where?!"

"Listen, let me assure you that I absolutely would not let her get hurt." Crockett looks her in the eyes, all hints of cheekiness gone from his voice. "I really am just here to help her. Look, she's got short black hair now, right? Still has those bright red cheeks, gray eyes... I helped her the other day! Ask her about it, or just...just bring her down. She'll tell you."

>Bring Delilah down here

>Show Delilah form the stairs, ask her for the story

>You aren't buying it, don't bring Delilah out

>Hold him there, go up to get Delilah yourself, ask her about her grandmother. If she confirms they're still on positive or neutral terms, THEN bring her out visibly to verify further.

Not gonna take any unnecessary risks, but at this point he could be telling the truth as much as lying. If she sees him, she might amend her story one way or the other which wouldn't be great for the truth.
>Ask Crockett about the toy rabbit
If we can clear up how he came into possession of it without Delilah around in case it's unsavory, good. If nothing untoward has happened, she can finally have it back.

>Go upstairs and ask Delilah about him
If she can confirm the claim that he helped her the other day, we can bring her down and she can identify him. With his hands tied and John right there, he's not likely to try anything.
>Ask about grandma's whereabouts, how he found us, and the bunny.
We need all the information before we bring Delilah anywhere near him.
You aren't going to let him try to call the shots, this is in your control.

"If it was up to me, I wouldn't let this stalker near any kids..." Mabel mutters, holding the flashlight up so you can write.

"Not the first time I've been called that."

"Jeez, really? I fucking wonder why." You have to remind her to hold the light still, trying to be quick. John acts as your voice, taking the page when you finish and coming up to Crockett.

"Calm down, we're gonna get to the bottom of all this," John says to her, looking back over your notes. "Now, we'll see about bringin' the little lady down here later but first we gotta get some stuff cleared up. And it really would be in your best interest to tell us the truth, yeah?"

"Was raised to always be a truthful man."

"Good, this should be easy then. So you were hired by her grandma, huh? And what exactly is she wantin' you to do?"

"Mrs. Esposito is just attempting to help her granddaughter the best she can, despite the circumstances-"

"What do you mean by that?"

"All of this has been some unfortunate timing for the poor woman. Her health as of late hasn't been too great, but really I think it's the stress that's getting to her. She's got folks trying to drag the skeletons out of her closet, on top of having her daughter-in-law barely remembering where she is and her only grandchild missing. Not exactly a walk in the park, especially now that she can't go showing her face around."

"So she's layin' low, where? Why?"

"Couple of reasons. Bed rest would do her some good right now, despite what she says. Course she's also there for her own safety too... Going to take a guess and say that you guys haven't had friendly guests either. If they're anything like she's gone through, than I bet you could understand why she would need to keep a low profile in the mean time."

"But where is she?" John asks, only to receive a silent denial. "Fine. We'll get back to that one later. Wanna try explainin' that little package you left on the porch?"

"Did you give it to Delilah? It's from her grandmother."

"Law says that it she was missin' it a while back, couldn't find it anywhere. How would her granny manage to get it if her health hasn't been up to par? Doesn't really add up."

"I couldn't explain that to you. Only been working on this for a short time now, not even two weeks yet. All I can tell you is that she really wanted Delilah to have that, she mentioned it was handmade and all that jazz. Not much else I can say about that," Crockett pauses just for a bit, unsure if he wants to continue, "Did she get it? Rather not have to tell Mrs. Esposito that I messed up and got it lost."

"Now you just hold on a moment. We're askin' the questions here, I'd wait if I were you. Now somethin' I'm sure we'd all really like to know, just how did you know to come around here?" John asks levelheaded but stern, leading this with experienced ease.

"It's my job to go snooping around-"

"See? He's a fucking stalker..." Mabel can't help slipping in, sending death glares his way.

"-and find out what I need to know. Was looking pretty bad for a while though, never expected you guys to just move into a house like this. Lucky me, I managed to score an informant. Though, gotta say, the number of people here is surprising"

"Well, I guess you know what my next question is."

"You want a name, but I can't give you one. Swore that I wouldn't rat 'em out for the info, and I'm a man of my word." Crockett hardly flinches as his jaw is grabbed, forcing to look up at John with the bloodied filter clenched between his lips.

"Wanna try rethinkin' that?"

"Not really. Sticking by what I said." Everyone in the room prepares for John to try and force an answer out, but only releases his grip.

"I want a full answer for this one, no bullshit or trying to stall. So you're tryin' to find Delilah to bring her back to her grandma, that's your whole goal."

"Well, big part of it. Mrs. Esposito also wants me to help with the thorn in her side- the man that's been causing her quite a bit of grief. He's dug up some dirt on her and is trying to use that as blackmail, so my job is to try and get our own. Getting Delilah back is the main goal though."

"Wait a minute," Mabel butts in again, stepping forward to speak. "So you're creeping around here cause you're trying to bring her back, why the hell didn't you do it before? You said you met her before, right?"

"I gave her a ride. Stopped to ask her a few questions, then gave her a ride. Wasn't really prepared at the time though, been going off of old photographs of her. Didn't want to accidentally end up scaring some random girl from the street," Crockett pauses, his voice somber much more somber now, "Her grandmother mentioned some...previous experiences she had with men. Even if I was completely sure it was Delilah, I doubt she'd have came with me willingly and I didn't really want to force her along."

"Who would have thought that a creepy man picking up young girls would seem like a bad idea?" Mabel stops herself from saying much more, Cecilia's cries coming through from the floor above.

"There more kids here? Jesus, how many people you got packed in here? Never mind that, look. Delilah should tell you the same story, but go ahead and take a look in my wallet real quick," Crockett instructs, gesturing to John to go through it,"Behind my license. Got a photo in there, bit old but she should be able to recognize me. I uh, I imagine she'd be able to recognize the other person in there too, you'll see."

You come look over John's shoulder, peering at the faded photo. Two people stand by a fountain in a park, man and woman. His hair is much darker and face is absent of stress lines and age, but it's definitely him. The blonde woman is about his age, and though there's something a bit familiar about her face there's nothing you can really pin down.

"You wanna go up and check on her side of all this?" John asks, passing the photograph over to you. "We can at least make sure their stories line up and go from there."

>Take Delilah the photo and rabbit, get her side of the story

>Take just the photo, get her side of the story

>The guy is holding back information. Do what you need to get it out

>Take Delilah the photo and rabbit, get her side of the story
>Take Delilah the photo and rabbit, get her side of the story
>>Take Delilah the photo and rabbit, get her side of the story
>Take Delilah the photo and rabbit, get her side of the story
Beat this nigga ass some mo if he bullshittin
You take one more look at Crockett, face towards the floor as he attempts to recover from the earlier assault. The photograph rests in your pocket as you go to retrieve the bag hidden in the closet, feeling the weight of the rabbit inside. It feels weird that he would insist on having the photo over his license taken to Delilah, but there shouldn't be any harm in showing it to her.

Moving up the stairs, Eric stops you with a hand to your shoulder, "You sure this guy was alone out there?"
He receives a yes; you'd practically been around the block and Crockett was the only person you came across. If he had backup then there's little chance that you could have managed to bring him inside. Eric takes this simple nod, moving out of your way.

A knock at the nursery door greets you with a panic-stricken Aria, looking ready to both cry and lash out as she cradles the baby.

"Are we still under 'lock down'?" she asks, only opening the door enough to peer through.

We have the guy downstairs, tied up.
He's alone though, there's not much he can do right now.
There's a few things I need to ask Bunny, can you send her out

"Yeah, she's up. All the kids are..." Aria expresses with a drained tone, turning back in to retrieve Delilah. Sure enough, all the kids sit huddled together and frightened. Delilah stands upon seeing you, doing what she can to suppress the questions she has for you. With permission she comes over and you lead her to the hall, away from the stairs. She squirms in place, unsure if she's in trouble.

We have a guy downstairs, and I'll tell you what's going on later, but there's a few things I need from you

"Alright, I'll do my best..." she says, eyeing the bag at your arm. The photo comes out first, and you point out the man as Delilah takes it.

"Know who...he is?" you ask, Delilah squinting as she looks over the picture. Her eyebrows raise up high and her hold on the picture tightens.

"I um...maybe...? He kind of looks like the guy in your sketch from earli-...oh...! He looks like this man, um...his name was like Crocker or Crockett I think, he gave me a ride a few days ago, when I was out alone. Is he the man downstairs...?" Delilah asks and you tell her yes, her eyes looking over the photo again. "I don't know if he knew who I was or what exactly, but he said he knew my grandma, he kind of gave me a message from her. I don't know if that's true, I only talked to him for a couple of minutes before he dropped me off. He was a lot more like, gruff up looking when that happened though, and he was driving a crappy car. I couldn't recognize him all cleaned up like that in the drawing."

You're ready to move on to the bag, but the photograph is shown to you and Delilah points at the woman this time.

"This came from him, right? This is from the guy?" she asks, looking at the picture once more with a lost expression. "That's my mom next to him. I haven't seen this picture before, but I recognize her...I think this was when Dad was in college." The image is faded and you've only met that woman in the hospital, but you don't doubt Delilah's claim. Hoping that this will cheer her up, you hand over the bag next. Confused, Delilah unzips and takes a look inside. The empty bag drops to the ground as she looks at the toy rabbit, looking for a loss of words. You begin writing an explanation as she examines it closely.

"...what is this?" she asks, and this time it's your turn to be confused.


"This isn't Ms. Buttons," Delilah shakes her head, continuing to look over the toy. "I mean, if looks like her but...this can't be the same one. The buttons are all new, and the body is clean. Mine has...has blood stains on it." She brings the rabbit up to her nose, sniffing it. "...but it smells like grandma's perfu-"

"I thought you said you were alone?!" John sounds pissed and that's never a good sign. You have Delilah stay here, running down the stairs to find out what's happening.

"What? I d-"

"Then explain the fucking car outside!" Mabel says, close to shouting while she looks out of the blinds.

"I have no idea what you're talking about... what kind of car?"

"Some sort of Mercede- SHIT! Some guy is stepping out...!" Mabel continues to keep watch, Eric coming to join her.

"There's two of them..." Eric says, trying to keep his grim voice quiet. "Two of them and a driver...no wait, they're bringing out another person from the back..." The look on Crockett's face shows panic and he attempts to rise up from his knees. He barely gets to his feet before you throw him down to the ground again, hand around his throat as you pin him.

"You don't understand...!" Crockett chokes out, unable to defend himself. "Can't...can't let them... in...!"

"We know that fucker, we've seen your friends before." John's knife has came out now, his eyes darting between the window and the man.

"Aren't...with...me...!" Your grip increases, ready to silence him for good. This is his fault, it has to be. You're going to have to take care of the mess he's made, who cares if his story lines up, it must have been some grand plan to lead up to here. If you don't do the job, John stands by ready to finish it.

"Jesus, that guy they're dragging out is really beat up..." Eric says, a loud gasp escaping Mabel as she takes a step back.

"Oh my g-... I think that's your friend...John, they've got Dan...!"

While John rushes to check on this it takes time for it to hit you, allowing Crockett to breathe as you try to figure out what's happening.

"What the hell is he doin' with them?!"

"I don't think it's a choice...look, his face is all bruised up." Eric points out, moving to go look out of the door peephole. "They've got his hands tied up too." John moves back, speechless and knife still at hand. The metal gives off a shimmer as it shakes in his hand, knuckles white from his grip. You're waiting for a plan, either from John or for one of your own. Fighting them doesn't sound like a good option at all. Even ignoring the fact that they'd most likely be better equipped, you can only see this ending with the police surrounding the place. You're going to need to take Delilah out of here, far far away before they can get their dirty hands on her.

"...my...car..." You look down as Crockett gasps the words out, hands still at his neck. "...we can leave...in my car. Fast... just need to get to it...keys are in it..."

>Escape through the backyard on foot, untie Crockett

>Escape through the backyard on foot, leave Crockett tied up

>Go in the Buick, bring Crockett with

>Go in the Buick, leave Crockett here
>Go in the Buick, bring Crockett with
>Go in the Buick, bring Crockett with

Even IF they allies, that just means wed have more questions, but he just ground out they aren't with him,.which means they're opposition- likely of the man he mentioned that had dirt on the grandma.

And come now, the story lined up. Let's not be a delusional ads hole and actually want to help the girl in all ways. The stories lined up, he's legit.
>>Go in the Buick, bring Crockett with
Might as well
After today I will be all done with finals, sorry about that folks!
You pull Crockett up to his feet, dragging over and shoving him at a bewildered John before your rush for the stairs.

"The hell you want me to do with him?" John calls out and you barely manage to gesture at his restraints before you reach the second floor. There's no time to be reluctant right now, it's either a race between those assholes getting inside or the cops showing up. You need to think of a way to get out to the Buick with Delilah and you need that plan fast.

The nursery knob refuses to budge, locked and held in place by a panicked Aria.

"Who is it?" she calls out and you let the silence answer, the door creaking up soon after to show her white face.

"I heard some shouting from down there, is it bad?"
You're forced to give a yes, watching her eyes widen further in panic a split moment before you bound into action again. It feels bad enough to lead trouble to the group, but you feel even worse with leaving them with the trouble. Most you can do is buy some extra time and protection, pushing the empty yellow dresser towards the door. There's no need to check, you know Delilah is watching your every move with frightened confusion. You motion for her to come over, moving the dresser right in front of the door frame. There's just enough room for you to slip back out, the few inches that it would take to press the furniture against the door manageable by Aria and the kids.

Delilah gives a little shriek of surprise when you pull her by the wrist, past the crowed door and into the hallway.

"What's going o-"

"Get things. Downstairs." You leave her to move down the stairs once more, knowing that the hardest part of this plan still awaits. The last of the ties have been cut from Crockett already, the man attempting to get proper feeling back into his arms.

"Why the hell did you untie him?" Mabel asks, unsure if she should be watching Crockett or the window.

"Keep your voice down..." Eric warns, still over at the door, "They might know we're here yet..."

"I'm sorry, it just makes me feel a little unsafe when we've got our fucking stalker walking around freely-"

"It's what Law wanted. And I'm sure he's got a good reason for that," John says, turning to you with a questioning look, "You do, don't you?"

"I'm assuming he wants to get out to my car and drive out of here with Delilah. Wanting me to tag along?" Crockett says and you confirm this, much to the shock of Mabel.

"You can't be serious right now!" she all but shouts, "Why the hell are you going to just leave here with him?"

"Hey, I may not know exactly what's going on right now, but those guys want in and he's got a car. Can't really be picky can we?"

"God, this is so fucked..." Mabel can only mutter to herself now, starting to look sick as Delilah moves down with her duffel bag in tow. Her eyes are set on you but get pulled away towards the mess Crockett is in.

"Glad to see you're still doing alright." he says with a smile, and even presented with warm friendliness Delilah finds herself clutching to you.

"That is him..." she whispers, her tiny voice overshadowed by the ruckus at the kitchen window. John takes the initiative, limping over as the locked frame wiggles and shakes against itself.

"You said this was the right one!" One of the men's frustration carries through the walls, letting you hear nearly every word of his seemingly one sided conversation.
"Well it's not opening!"
"There a special way to getting in?"
"Oi, speak up! I can't hear you... I said speak up!" A thumping noise against the wall soon follows, the sound of a body being thrown against it. A third man must be out there with him, scolding him much more quieter.
"Hey, I told this faggot what would happen if he gave us fake info. Course maybe he's trying to buy them some time, you ever think about that? Of course you don't ever fucking think these kind of things through, and that's why you're going to be stuck doing this kinda dirty work for the rest of your life Richard." The irritable man has no qualms in letting the world know of his frustration with their hostage, despite repeating attempts of shushing by his coworker.
"Why don't we just take care of him already? The guy's annoying and offensive looking and he's just making us lose more time. Fuck, I'll even let you blame it on me. Tired of looking at this mess. Just a minute in the alley and it'll be another headache gone."
His coworker seems against this, the two now beginning to argue over Dan's life. John's face is full of panic, no anger or motivation that usually comes with it for him, just a sheer inability to fully process what's happening.

You, on the other hand, are already trying to come up with a plan. The front door seems like a viable exit now, though you do have to watch out for their driver. If you wait for the two outside to move away then you might have a better chance sneaking around to the Buick. You've got Delilah and Crockett to worry about getting out there, but as long as you plan accordingly it shouldn't be too hard for the three of you.

As the argument outside continues you can't help but notice the fading objection coming from the other man. If it continues for much longer than he might actually give in and let his buddy carry out what is nothing less than cruel murder.

>Leave out the front door, possibly cause a distraction to help Dan, leave as soon as you get in the car (roll 1d100)

>Wait for them to move from the kitchen window, you can't risk it. Leave as soon as you're in the car. (roll 1d100)

>Go from the front door, try to drive to the alley to help Dan (roll 1d100)

Rolled 33 (1d100)

>Go from the front door, try to drive to the alley to help Dan (roll 1d100)
Or even just drive by the alley and wolf-whistle to get their attention, force them to scramble for the Mercedes.
Rolled 5 (1d100)

Rolling for better result
Maybe if the guy in the car doesn't pick up the other two Crockett can race us somewhere we have an advantage and can take this guy by surprise
Make up for Crockett's nose by breaking another
Rolled 30 (1d100)

Rolled 37 (1d100)

Guys plz.
Rolled 29 (1d100)


Wait, so you rolled multiple times? Well in that case, here's an honest one.
No, you pls.
Jesus, Dan's fucked.
Rolled 17 (1d100)

I put on my name and trip code.
File: 1117.png (26 KB, 550x400)
26 KB
Rolled 61 (1d100)

Rolled 68 (1d100)

>Leave out the front door, possibly cause a distraction to help Dan, leave as soon as you get in the car (roll 1d100)
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>Go from the front door, try to drive to the alley to help Dan (roll 1d100)

A lot of bad rolls in here.
Dice gods not favor the prompt?
Wow that just seems improbable.
Rolled 33 (1d100)


>Leave out the front door, possibly cause a distraction to help Dan, leave as soon as you get in the car (roll 1d100)
Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>Leave out the front door, possibly cause a distraction to help Dan, leave as soon as you get in the car (roll 1d100)

Time to throw my roll out there
I reflavor it to "Take of your shirt and unleash your hot bod"

Ill accept praise and thanks in the form of blowjobs and backpats
Why the fuck y'all niggas tryna save Dan skank ass?

Because you touch yourself at night
You feel the overwhelming need to try and help Dan, even if it means sticking your neck out for him.

"They're gonna kill him..." John approaches the window, using all the will he has to keep from throwing it open. "Those bastards are gonna do it...!" You pull John back to the living room, trying to keep up with your rapidly passing plan.

"I can't just let them do that!" John attempts to protest and jump to the rescue but you hold his thin frame back, forcing him to pay attention as you attempt to ask him about the gun. "I-, yeah I still got it. Just hold up a minute..." He goes to the kitchen for the gun retrieval, a nervous gaze constantly looking back to where his comrade is being held captive. At this point Dan has begun begging, twisting your stomach as the man pitifully begs for his life.

Delilah tries to stand out of the way, gripping her bag and flinching at every shout from outside. She follows without a word as you lead her to the front door, making Crockett join her soon after.

"So what? You're just going to run to the car, and then what? Don't they still have a guy out in their car? What were you planning to do about that?" Mabel stress comes out as blunt questions, pacing around the room with anxious movements. You peer out the window, not that you need a reminder about the Mercedes. From here you get a look at the porch, just a few short steps to the door and a length of yard between it and the car. The Buick sits near one end of the sidewalk, the Mercedes resting idle a few feet up.

John emerges from the kitchen, gun in hand and ready to ask what you wanted with it.

"...I d-don't want to d-d-die ..." The words come choked out between Dan's sobs, the sound of a man looking death in the face and fearing it.

"And I wanted to be a teacher. Shit just doesn't turn out sometimes, does it?" The irritated man's voice begins to move back, dragging Dan to the alley. Delilah covers her ears, eyes closed tightly and she sobs, "I don't want to hear this..." Now it's John turn to be dragged over, leading him to the window as you keep an ear to the outside. Everything is fine as long as you don't hear a gunshot, there's still time.

You point at John, the gun, and the Mercedes- he's quick to catch on, double checking to make sure he's prepared for the task. "Only gonna shoot if he does first, so you gotta look out," he says, pulling up the window through the blinds. "But if they aren't gonna shoot, I don't wanna end up getting the whole neighborhood up."

That means only you will have to look out, if this goes the way it should.

Delilah watches you with wide eyes, awaiting instructions as you come to kneel in front of her. She's trying to keep her focus on you but her eyes keep darting back to the door, ready for it to burst open and have all hell break in.

"W-What do you need me to do...?" she asks, trying to mask fear with confidence.

"Stay here." you say, pointing to her and Crockett. Next you point to the door and yourself, following with "Will bring...car up."

"You're going to drive the Buick up here?" Crockett asks, looking surprised. "Right up to the door?"

"But isn't there a guy waiting in the other c-car? And what about those guys wi-...out in the back?" Delilah sounds grim, just as anyone in her position would be.

"Don't worry missy, Law can make it to the car," John says as he kneels at the window with a wince, listing the blinds up just enough for a view out. "I'm gonna stay here and cover him. Anythin' goes sideways and I've got his back." He says this with a nod at you, gun positioned and ready at hand. Despite everything that's happened in the past few days, you trust him right now. But even with that it's obvious that John feels bothered, the creeping thought that he might have to mourn his colleague by the end of all this.

"Well damn, if you're going to make a beeline for the car I can at least give you something to make it a bit easier on yourself..." Crockett says, hand slinking down the back of his pants. He silences Mabel's initial protests and disgust at this, bringing out a gun that nearly fits in the palm of his hands.

"Where the hell where you hiding a derringer?!" John asks, appalled that a weapon had slipped past him.

"Maybe next time you should try patting the inside of my thighs less," Crockett remarks without skipping a beat, giving the gun one last look over before handing it over. "Don't worry, that's not meant to be a bargaining tool or anything, that gun is in the glove box. This one is just a backup, case I ever get backed into a corner with no way out. Might be better for you to have it though, only got two rounds inside it." The gun is passed over, dwarfed in your palm. It's nothing impressive looking, but at this rate you'll accept anything.

"What the hell-" Mabel's outburst by John, instructing her to go look around the house for anything that can be used as a weapon.

"Eric, you go watch that window. I've got the front covered," John adjusts his grip, nodding once more as he looks out. "Least Dan will offer ya some distraction." You don't try to mention your plan, knowing that's better than to try and get hopes up. Delilah looks up, ready to protest or wish you luck or question if there's another way through this, but none of that comes. Instead she steps back, granting you easy access to the door. With full sincerity she looks up and says, "I believe in you."

Stepping forward with a labored chuckle and attempting to wipe the dried blood from his face, Crockett says with a still red tinted smile "Now you have to go through with it." Not that you have must more choice or time. No gunshot yet, but that can change in only a moment. Standing at the door, you take deep breaths and hold the gun at hand.

It's only for backup, you don't want to shoot anyone.

All you need to do is step out and slam the door. Enough noise for the guys to come investigate and you'll haul ass to the car. Drive up to the porch so Delilah can hop in, drive away and those guys will try to chase you. Then you just need to lose them on the road, somewhere in the storm, and everything will be fine. The group will be okay, you'll help Dan, take Delilah somewhere safe...
Everything will go fine, nothing to it.

The door swings out, inching your way through as you use every inch of the door as cover. With a final reminder that this has to be done, you prepare to dash out and slam the door.

On the other side of the door, looking just as bewildered as you, stands one of the men ready to drink from a flask. His face is a familiar one, and though not part of the plan you waste no time working him in. The metal flask falls into the snow, spilling his precious drink as you force him in front of you, arm hooked around his neck and muzzle pressed against his head. You begin to walk over to the car, keeping your eyes glued to the Mercedes. Sure enough the older man pops out of the driver seat, using the car as cover with his own gun drawn. Seeing his buddy in your arm might have stopped him, but his gun remains out and facing you.

"Play it cool, play it cool..." the guy in your arms says, remembering his name being Richard or something along those lines. He doesn't struggle in your grip, only with keeping up as you near drag him through the snow. You don't allow any part of you to stick out far enough for a shot, keeping him as a shield even as you reach the driver's side of the Buick. You remind him not to move, gun pressed against his back as enter the seat and reach for the ignition. The plan is still fine, this worked out. Now you just need to turn the car on and drive over-

Your fingers touch against the empty ignition, and looking around the clean cab doesn't produce any results either. You pull Richard down with you on the chance that his partner decides to risk some shots.

"Keys." you demand, holding him by the collar and the gun jammed against his chest.

"Hey, watch it with that-"

"Where at?"

"The keys? Uh, shit I think Tomas checked this out, th-the guy in the back! If they're not here then he's got them." Of course you don't just take his word on this, just praying that you'll find them somewhere on his person. The gun strapped to his hip comes out, tossed away to the passenger seat. All else you manage to pull out is some pocket change and a lanyard with some house keys at the end. You stand back up, Richard's scruff at hand and leading the way. The man at the Mercedes still has view of you, gun your way. Over in the dark you glance at John, barely able to see the silver glint in the window.

"Going back." You continue to walk with Richard in front, no doubt confusing everyone inside watching. The man at the car stays in your sight till you find cover with the house, moving along the side now. Richard continues to comply, metal against temple. You follow the fresh footprints leading to the back, gate swayed open slightly. The keys might not have been in the car but this is still manageable, if a bit more risky. This could work out with a little luck, and lord knows you need that right about now.

You approach the gate slow, not wanting to startle the guy. Just need to have a quick standoff, Dan and the keys in exchange for his partner. No biggie, no gunshot ye-

A shot echoes out and you nearly pull the trigger yourself. The guilt of your inability has already begun to settle in, and from around front another shot fires. You can't tell who it came from, if it was trying to keep each other in place or a vengeful shot from John, but for now you have more important things to focus on. Preparing to see the aftermath of a murder, you prepare to avert your eyes from a bloodied ground.

Stepping into the alley, you are instead greeted by Dan sobbing and cowering at Tomas's feet. The standing man holds the gun in his hand, a new hole made in the fence next to them.

"Y'know, most guys try to run away after the first shot. Well then you got the ones that freeze up, but you're actually starting to get on my nerves. Here I thought my boss was the only one capable of that," Thomas forces Dan to stand, waving the gun about as he does. "If you don't scram, I might actually have t-" Looking over, Thomas catches glimpse of you holding Richard at gunpoint. The man isn't hesitant to do the same, pulling Dan back just to press the gun at his head.

"Don't you even think about taking another step," he warns, stepping back with Dan.

"Tell him." you order Richard, wiggling the gun against his temple.

"O-Okay, see everything is fine..." he says before addressing the other man, "Tom, you got the keys right? You grabbed the ones from the Buick?"

"Course I did, do I look like an idiot?" Thomas shouts back, his grip tightening. "But you can forget me handing them over. He'll end up getting that girl in the car, and we'll have a mess on our hands again. And I sure as hell aren't going to tell the boss this time, bastard will end up taking off my whole ear this time!"

"Listen, I think this guy is really serio-"

"So am I! You fuckers saw what happened last time. I am not letting this go," the gun goes pointed from Dan to you, Thomas taking careful aim. "The sooner I can quit working for that guy the better."

This isn't lost yet, you still have this guy Richard. Use him to cover the shot, rush forward and take care of Thomas. Easy enough, just needs proper timing. You wait for his finger trigger to move, preparing to throw your hostage at him. What you are greeted with instead is the back of his head knocking the air out of your throat, yanking himself from your arm. Thomas must have been waiting for this moment, his second shot firing out soon after.

The moment where your life flashes before your eyes doesn't hit you, but neither does the bullet. Instead, the blood splayed against your shirt comes from the nicked shoulder of Richard himself. He collapses to the ground, unprepared to deal with the pain.

"You got ME...!!!" he forces out of gritted teeth, looking up as blood trails between his fingers. Thomas has no way of offering an apology, trying to fight Dan for control of the gun instead. The weapon becomes in his possessions once more, but looking up his face is greeted by Dan's forehead, hands pulling him in to a sickening crunch. Dan has to take a few steps back, wobbly and holding the red spot on his head. Thomas, on the other hand, looks like he can't even keep his sight straight before he crumbles to the ground. He's met with a swift kick from Dan, hardly moving from the impact.

"And that's for ruining my jacket..." he mutters, wiping his face of smudged makeup. "What'd you say you were looking for, keys?" You nod and Dan gets to work, frisking the semiconscious Thomas. He pulls out a pair of keys, holding them out for you. "These them? Only ones I found that look like they belong to a car." They go straight in your pocket and Richard back in your grip, forcing the bleeding man to stand. He grimaces, made to walk through the pain as you go back to the front. Dan follows close behind, ready to grab you for safety. You manage to the front window easily enough, reminding the man at watch what still lays at stake with Richard in your hand. Of course now it looks like he was shot by your hand, if you're not careful he may just take the initiative to shoot at you now.

"Jesus Christ...you're alright!" John almost drops his gun, hurrying to pull Dan inside the window.

"Barely." Dan coughs, but he's no longer a concern of yours. Waiting for John to return to his spot, you move towards the car once more. Getting there is easy enough, finding yourself in the driver's seat again. As the car starts to turn over the door's window shatters. He's taken a shot, and if he readjusts enough then the next one will end up landing it's mark. You duck down, dropping your gun to the floorboard as the car finally comes alive. With a kick you send Richard flying out away to the street, pulling back and then going gung-ho over the lawn, jumping the curve and tires cutting through the snow covered lawn.

John takes a warning shot, making the man duck down as you pull up as close as possible to the front door. Reaching over you fling the passenger side open, the front door following soon after with Crockett pushing Delilah and himself into the front.

"Drive!" he shouts, slamming the door with him. You don't need telling twice, slamming on the break and swerving back to the street. The house begins to shrink in the rear view mirror, Richard running to the car. Forced between the seats, Delilah looks ready to wrap her arms around you. She stops short, hands coming up to cover her crinkled nose.

"Th-That's not your blood, i-is it?" You return her answer with a shake of the head, thinking that the smell must be overbearing. Her hands grip your shoulders painfully, making you swerve in the road.

"You have to take it off!" she shouts,"Right now! Lawrence you have to!"

"What's wrong?" Crockett asks, looking out the back window.

"It's... it's dirty blood!" Delilah says with a shaky voice, "He'll get sick if he keeps it on...!" It sounds like something she'd use for a cover up, but Delilah looks deathly serious right now. Against her protests you keep driving, stopping only after you've gone through a few blocks and found a back alley to pull in to. With the car still running you take a step out, following Delilah's order for you to rip off the contaminated shirt and coat, retrieving the contents from their pockets.

With the trunk popped Crockett has been going through his junk, pulling a coat out. "Now I can't promise nothing on how fresh it smells or just how well it'll fit, but it's got to beat running around in a muscle shirt yeah?" You gladly accept it, though you wish it didn't stop above your wrists and was able to zip up. Delilah has moved to the back now, bag in her lap as she sits. Over at the passenger side, Crockett retrieves the gun you tossed down and the one from his glove box.

"Looks like his only has two bullets with it, and I don't think I have any that'll fit. What I do have plenty of ammo for, however, " holding up his gun Crockett presents it to you, much larger than the derringer. "Is this, my Smith & Wesson 4506. Nice and new, it should do the job." He must note your confusion over this and takes little time to explain.

"Those guys are working for someone they don't want to tick off, and believe me when I say he's got a temper. They're trained for this kind of job and they aren't going to let a few blocks stop them. Maybe if I was by myself I'd try to handle both, but it's really nice to have one person either working the car or the gun." He's serious, silently offering the choice to you.

>Offer to drive, you've never learned how to use a gun well

>Take the gun, you don't know if Crockett is in the shape for that

>Refuse either

>Offer to drive, you've never learned how to use a gun well
Crockett has to be a better shot than us, especially when it comes to moving targets.

We know how to drive.
>>Offer to drive, you've never learned how to use a gun well
Car, definitely the car.
You express your answer immediately, backing away from the offer of the gun. Crockett shrugs and brings it back, tucking it away in his coat. "Suit yourself. I'll tell you where and when to turn and you do it, understand? I'll see if we can make it to Mrs. Esposito's. Run any red lights or stop signs that I tell you, if we get pulled over I'll handle it."He goes back to the car, returning to the passenger seat. There's no time for one right now, but god do you just need a breather. But it sounds like the place he wants to go to is rather safe, maybe you'll get there in two hours and everything will be fine.

Back behind the wheel you go, taking the time to readjust the seat. Once you get back on the road, it's back to constant search. Just keep that up for a bit longer, then you can get everyone to safety, warm house and roof above their head.

Well, just Delilah.
You can only hope that the men have left, that they've realize the house has nothing more to do with them. But there's also the need for distance, a chance to lose them before they've gotten a chance to search. The headlights return after some hesitation, you'd almost feel safer driving without them on. According to the dash it's nearly one in the morning and you can't help but miss the daylight.

"You're going to be on the back roads a lot," Crockett explains, pointing you forward. "Follow this street till Ashwood then turn right. We're going to follow that road all the way to the edge of town and head around that way. I'm going to try and get us there as soon as possible but we also have to make sure we're not leading them there. I have a couple routes that I use and switch up, they've been trying to figure it out though, nearly crossed paths with them on the streets a few times before. They've gotten close, but never quite managed to figure it out." The path Crockett gives you is easy to follow, the car remaining silent as the lights cut through the snow flying through the air. It's not too long before you end up on a lonely road, mostly empty at this time. Occasionally you'll pass by a road leading off, usually to a set of gas stations and fast food.

"Long as we don't take too long, I think we'll avoid the worst of the snow," Crockett pulls down the visor mirror, looking over his face and touching up where specks of blood remain. "Really did a number on me back there, work on your form a bit and we might have ourselves a rather decent fighter here." A hand travels across his bruised neck, remembering when your arm had been crushing it. "Course, you can't really pull a move like that out in the ring."

"How long till we reach my grandma's?" Delilah asks from the back, watching both of your reflections from the rear view mirror.

"Straight drive would take about, oh 30 minutes or so. But I'd rather not have them tail us, so we're going to take a bit of a detour and make sure we're clear," Crockett looks over at the dashboard, gun resting in his lap. "For the record, I'm pretty sure you'll be fine going above thirty out here. Just keep an eye out for any icy patches, but we don't really need to stand out here either." Not even realizing that you had been going what now feels antagonizing slow, you barely begin to press on the pedal and feel yourself pressed against the seat from the acceleration.

"Pretty nice, eh?" he asks, moving back in place. "This model just came out last year. Now I've never been one to be impressed by something just cause it's new, I feel like the duct tape and glue add charm to my old set of wheels, but this is pretty nice. Quiet and quick, just the thing a guy like me needs. Not that I'd have gotten this on my own, this was a rather generous donation from Mrs. Esposito."

"My grandma gave this to you?"

"Yep. She saw what I'd been driving previously and decided that I desperately needed an upgrade. Not that I could ever get rid of my old one, but I couldn't just turn down a gift like this," the grin falters at the corners of his mouth, thumb tracing over the edge of the gun. "Course, it's mostly for protection. If Mrs. Esposito needed a quick getaway, or well... if something like this happened." As headlights come toward you can't help but feel on edge, barely relieved when they pass by without a hint of threat.

"So they're after my grandma too?"

"A bit. Their goal seems focused on you, unfortunately. Can't imagine that it's been too easy."

"It hasn't..."

"I'm so sorry," Crockett apologizes, meeting her gaze in the mirror. From his pocket he brings out a bent and slightly bloodied cigarette, the filter crushed from being in his mouth later. "You mind?" he asks and Delilah gives him permission, the man finally getting the smoke he's been waiting for.
"Hmm, know who you look like?" he asks next, a rush of smoke expelling out.

"My father?" Delilah replies, giving the answer in a systematic way.

"Well, I suppose you got some of his features." The cigarette is ashed into a empty coffee mug, the remnants of previous smokes resting inside. "But when I first saw you, right away, I thought 'this has to be Denise's girl', looks like I have a pretty good eye for that eh?"

Delilah shifts around in her seat uncomfortably, eyes glued to the floorboard as she mumbles. "You know where she is, right?"

"Yes, I'm well aware of your mother's condition unfortunately," Crockett puts the conversation on hold, instruction for you to take a side road for a bit now. "Just follow this for about ten minutes then back to the wrap around. Anyways, as I was saying. I heard about what happened to her, the fire and all. Went to go visit her a few times. It was a bit rough, those first times there. She mentioned that you'd dropped by before, so I suppose you know how she's been?" Delilah nods and he continues the story. "Well, I've known your parents- I should really say your mother, for some time now. Your mother and I were in school together, lived pretty near each other too. Came to know your father when Denise started to date him, I went to their wedding actually."

"How are you working for my grandma?" Delilah asks, "You said it hasn't been for long, did she look for you?"

"Not quite. Like I said, I knew your father through Denise. Started working law enforcement a bit after they got married, ended up transferred to this city. Ended up helping your grandmother one night, actually. Got stuck with some grunt work, had to sort through a bunch of evidence. Came across something bearing the Esposito name and looking further into it, seemed like something that could have ended up causing a little trouble. Not that your grandmother could have been hauled off to jail that easy, but I figured I'd do Denise a favor and sort of... 'lost' the evidence. Nothing too crazy, just trying to prevent a headache for them. With Denise in the hospital and that reward posted for you in the newspaper, I figured it was from your grandmother."

"It wasn't."

"Yeah, found that out rather quickly. Your grandmother was shocked by it, and I offered my services. Mrs. Esposito was rather apprehensive about it at the start, but when I told her about that little bit of evidence I had disappeared she was much more willing to sign me on."

"I see..." Delilah slumps back in the seats, exhausted physically and emotionally. You try to meet her gaze in the mirror but she looks away, fiddling with her sleeve in mindless anxiety.

"Alright, looks like we're pretty clear. Let's do five more minutes on this road and then we can start heading back to Mrs. Esposito's," Crockett says while snuffing out the butt, and all you can do is nod as the conversation lays out before you. "Now I hope you don't mind me asking a question Delilah."

"Hm?" she looks up to the front now, paying more attention. You can't help but look over at him, feeling uneasy by this.

"I'm just a little curious about earlier. The whole bit with the blood and the shirt, you mentioned something about the blood being dirty? Like it would have made Lawrence sick?"

"Uh huh..."

"Well, I was just wondering how you knew that is all. It's good to keep safe of course, but you seemed rather.. troubled? Maybe I'm just being a bit nosy, but you know what they said about curiosity."
In a panic Delilah looks up to you in the mirror, waiting for a sign of what she should do.

>encourage her to lie

>encourage her to tell the truth

>leave the choice to her

>write in
Rolled 1 (1d100)

>encourage her to tell the truth
bribe with ice cream or more blood(?)
Rolled 22 (1d100)

rerolling wtf
>encourage her to tell the truth
Or at least some of the truth. Worst-case scenario, he thinks it's bull. Best-case scenario, he knows Del's mom had something weird going on.
>encourage her to tell the truth
Delilah watches the subtle nod you give before returning attention to the dark and empty road again.

"Well, um..." she deliberates, Crockett waiting patiently. You try to watch his facial expression, switching between him and the road. "...I'm sick, or something. I don't really know what it is but it's... I'm kind of um, sensitive around blood. And it makes me want to do...stuff. B-But like, I can really really smell it, like enough to tell when someone is sick. And the blood Lawrence had all over him was...it was rotten. Absolutely rotten."

"And what does blood usually smell like?" Crockett asks with a curious and almost amused look on his face. With a far off look of guilt painted down her face, Delilah forces herself to look in his direction before answering with a soft and solemn voice.

"Tempting." Her hand starts to come up in attempt to hide what she just said, but it just hangs heavily in the air. Crockett looks ready to reply, mouth opening several times to answer just to have him close it once more. With a vain attempt to get any further explanation from you, he instead gives up on talking and occupies himself with another smoke. Delilah also tries to look up at you, attempting to get approval for her actions. All you can do is nod, knowing that she needs more acknowledgment that this was all okay as she looks down to her lap.

"Er.." she tries to find her voice again, clearing her throat in an attempt to speak louder, "M-...Mom is sick too, apparently-"

"With the same thing?" he asks, voice nearly cracking.

"I don't know. I never knew about it till recently. We've never been like this before though, not that I know of. But apparently she's had it for a while, since before I was born, and that's how I got it. You knew Mom, did she ever talk about being sick?"

"Sick? Not that I know of, certainly nothing like that..." he looks out the window as he answers, pausing to watch the street lights pass. "Only thing that I could really recall being 'wrong' was her affinity for a drink. Girl could pack them away, even when we were younger.... sorry, you probably don't want to hear about this with your mother." You feel like a stranger eavesdropping on a conversation, like you shouldn't be hearing this right now. With the snow falling harder than before the road has become harder to keep track of, but you manage to pull off the main road easy enough. Crockett gives you more instructions to follow, sounding like he's finally gotten the grin knocked off his face. With the first stop sign the tires slide against the road but you manage to gain control of the car soon after. Too exhausted either to care or notice, neither of them mention it. That's fine, just a little longer and you'll be somewhere safe.

"It's a little weird-, er well I guess all of this is a little weird..." Delilah stammers after some time, "But I guess it's kind of cool too...? Or gross... but it seems like my spit or whatever helps close up cuts faster."

"Yeah?" Crockett asks, looking back to her in the mirror. "Do you usually go around just licking cuts?" He's attempting to put some humor back in to this, whether for her benefit or his.

"No, I'm n-not that weird! It's just that sometimes stuff happens. L-Like I've helped some cuts heal before, I swear! But I've...I also..." Delilah doesn't want to talk about the terrible parts of this, but she pushes herself along with it anyways. "And sometimes if I don't... if I don't give in to the cravings, I feel sick. My head hurts and I feel awful... I feel gross afterwards but the pain goes away. And I guess i-it's not so bad if I help while doing so, r-right?"

"Well, I would say that could be pretty helpful in the right circumstances. So long as you aren't just going around nabbing people to chew them up." He chuckles to himself about this, but when you try to look at Delilah through the mirror she turns away. There's a strange air to how she's talking, building up to what she really wants to say.

"...I'm feeling like that right now..." she confesses finally.

"I don't suppose some aspirin would do you some good?" Crockett asks and receives a shake of her head right away.

"If grandma is worried about me, I don't want to let her see me like this..."Delilah is doing everything to avoid eye contact right now and you come to notice that her breathing has become heavier. Reaching another stop sign you remain idle, waiting to hear what she says before going.

"It smells like one of you has a um...an open c-cut..." Hands come up to cover her face, too embarrassed and overwhelmed to show herself. "I've been stuck smelling it back here and I thought that...that maybe I could take care of it? Then I don't have to w-worry about seeing Grandma like this..."

A car passes by but you stay parked in the mean time, looking over yourself. Just as you thought, there's nothing you'd really call an open cut on your body right now. Looking over at Crockett, you could easily see where she could be picking up the smell from.

>Try not to let Delilah have any right now
>Let her have some of Crockett's
>Let her have some of yours
>Let her have some of yours
Less weird than asking some, kinda random, dude to offer up blood, though him being there makes it weird in it's own way.

If we can find a parking garage or something with cover, that might help.
>Let her have some of Crocket's.
Let's get wild.
Letting her have blood out in the open like this seems to be asking for trouble
New Thread will go up tomorrow!

Delete Post: [File Only] Style:
[Disable Mobile View / Use Desktop Site]

[Enable Mobile View / Use Mobile Site]

All trademarks and copyrights on this page are owned by their respective parties. Images uploaded are the responsibility of the Poster. Comments are owned by the Poster.