[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: MQ41.jpg (767 KB, 1500x1500)
767 KB
767 KB JPG
"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.
You stand at the door, trying to listen downstairs too.

"What's wrong?" Delilah asks, confused as to why you're staying.

"Nothing." You try to stand less aggressive, loosening the grip on your arm. "Just...thinking."

"Bout what?" She sits up, turning towards you.

"About later."


"Yeah." You walk in, looking at the now folded blanket Delilah helped to make. "When there. What do...you want?"

"When we're there? Um..." She stops to think, shaking her head and shrugging after a while. "I'd like to start doing things like normal again. I know that's not really um, possible, but uh..." She stands up, walking over to where you are. "What about you? What were you thinking?"

"Want to...finish. Your...portrait."

"Really? You still want to draw me?" Delilah is too flustered and excited by that answer that she doesn't try to ask you about long term goals. That's something you really don't have an answer for, and you'd rather not let her know that. "Um, actually though..." she deliberates on asking, finally getting the question out while trying not to look embarrassed by it, "I know it's not probably not something that we can do really soon or anything but I um, maybe when things stop being so...crazy... maybe my grandma can help so that we could um...maybe visit the ocean or something I dunno. I still want to visit it with you."


"Lawrence!" Coming from up the stairs, Crockett's startled words get there before he does. He comes into the room in a panic, coming to the window that faces the side of the house and looking out. "Lawrence, we might have a slight dilemma."

"Wh-What's wrong?" Delilah asks, taking a step behind you.

"It's fine," Crockett bullshits, now realizing that she was in there, "You don't need to worry. Make sure you have everything you need ready-" He stops to look outside again, cursing under his breath. Delilah hesitantly leaves you just long enough to grab her bag, quickly coming back to stand a step behind you.

"What's wrong?" You put a hand on her shoulder, trying to be reassuring when you've already become anxious, hair standing on end.

"We've got a woman in uniform snooping around outside," he explains, "I think her car's parked a few houses up, I couldn't see it from the front. She's been looking around from the sidewalk but started coming up to the house now, I don't recognize her but it is a real uniform. Or, at least as close as you could get to a real one."

"Is she going to knock down the door?" Delilah asks.

"No, no she can't do something like that. Unless the Talbot's have half of Bolivia stashed away in their walls, I doubt she would have any sorta warrant or probably cause. Hasn't tried knocking either, could be looking for a kid that wandered off or something I guess. Doesn't rub me the right way though, but I'm also trying to play it safe here." Crockett looks towards Delilah and then back at you, hand reaching inside his coat. "What do you think?"

>Have your mother talk to the officer
>Have Crockett talk to the officer
>Ignore her
>Ignore her
>Keep an eye on her for the time being, but get ready to call mom down to respond
You take a look at Delilah, and try to sound calm. "Ignore her."

"Think so? Might be for the best, then again it's not my house. Never know what secrets some families might be hiding..." After some time, Crockett pulls away from the window and lets his hand rest relaxed by his side.

"Mom can...talk. If need...to."

"Sounds good. Delilah, I need you to go down and wait with Mrs. Talbot. She already knows about the officer, don't worry. If she knocks on the door and starts looking through the window, she can try talking to her then alright? Let her know that." Speaking just stern enough to get his orders across, Crockett waits for Delilah to nod and back away towards the stairs. She treads with light foot steps, afraid of the woman outside hearing her. When she's far enough away, Crockett strides over to you and whispers harshly.

"I'd rather not have to use it, but we need a back up plan. We might be closer to butting heads with that sonofabitch than I expected. Cop outside might not mean anything, but could be them trying to keep us here. Either way, I'd feel a whole lot better bout all this if we had something planned for worst case scenario."

Nodding, you try to hide the steadily heavy breathing pressing on your chest. "Anything...in mind?"

"Likely thing to happen is splitting up and meeting up again later. Delilah can go with either you or me, Palmer should be fine too. Should be able to trust who ever they bring down, but I would trust my life with Palmer. Feel like you know this town better than me, would be good if we had a place that was close but discrete. Anywhere come to mind?"

You take a moment to think about it, but only one place really comes to mind.

"Old... dance hall."

"You sure bout that? I know the whole hide a tree in a forest thing, but..."

"Abandoned. Just drunk...teens. Sometimes."

"And with it being cold as hell outside, we shouldn't have to worry about too many of those. Alright, I don't have time to argue on that. Gimme the address and I'll make sure to pass it on to Palmer." Crockett lets you write down the location in his book, putting it between other vague notes as to help keep it hidden. He dismisses you to go back downstairs with the girls, wanting to see if he can find the officer or her squad car from the upstairs windows.

In the living room, your mother is packing away folders and documents into one of her bags, keeping a nervous eye on the door. Delilah sits next to her, trying to keep to herself. Both of them look over when you come down, neither saying anything. You can't help but remain silent too, seeing that the windows your mother loved to keep open have been drawn shut.

"That man, Mr. Crockett? He told me I might have to go ahead and travel with you two..." your mother explains, trying to sound like she isn't fearful. "Swore that someone will be here to wait for Jacks. I wouldn't mind waiting but..." She looks over to Delilah, giving a gentle squeeze on her shoulder. "I promised to go along with Delilah to make her feel better." Delilah tries to smile back at her, but it falters much quicker than it appears. You wish there was more you could do right now to tell Delilah that everything will be okay, but the most you can do is make sure the house is secure.

Starting from the backdoor and moving forward, you double check that every lock is done for each door and window. Making your way to the front door you deadbolt the door and secure the chain. Walking back, you're about to see what Crockett sees from upstairs when you hear a knock at the newly secured door. Immediately, your mother has stood up and pulled Delilah with her, inching towards the garage. You motion for them to be quiet and slow, inching towards the door.

You nearly jump out of your skin when the locks you've just checked turn, the door swinging open. It stops severely short by the chain holding it back, but the voice that calls from behind it is clear.

"Hey, Del? You home?" Your father's voice travels through the living room, but you don't need to remind your mother to remain quiet. She knows that it's too early for him to be back, much less knocking before trying to enter his own home.

"I've uh, I've lost my garage clicker, can't get in to park..." He clears his voice, sounding strained. "You still here Del? I'll uh, have to go if you aren't..." He waits outside the door, quiet for an answer. Looking up, you can just see Crockett still upstairs.

>Let your father in
>Have the girls hide in the garage
>Go get the gun
>Have the girls go upstairs
>Have the girls go upstairs
>Go get the gun
That doesn't even make sense when he's working on the Firebird in there.

You motion for your mother to move towards the stairs, and she does so with Delilah close behind. She coaxes her up the stairs gently but quick, and you edge closer to the cabinet. Keeping an eye on the door the entire time, you reach inside the cabinet. You'll use the gun as a bluff if needed, having it should be enough to stand your ground. If anything you can give a warning shot or two, if you can remember how to use it-

It feels like your heart drops when your fingers brush against nothing. Finally looking away from the front door, you open the cabinet doors wide. You start shuffling through the picture frames and china pieces inside, listening to your father all the while.

"Del? You here, uh...babe?" Not a pet name he's ever used, you start to look in the drawers below. No gun, no bullets, nothing comes up in your search. He'd never get rid of his gun, or at least, would never have one on hand somewhere. That means he's moved it, but hell if you know where.

"Hold on, she's done the chain. Can't really blame her, can you?" He's talking to someone else in the driveway, keeping his cool surprisingly well. "Lemme see if I can er, do one more thing to get her attention real quick..." His arm squeezes in through the gap of the door, waving blindly to get someones attention. Or to give a warning, it's hard to think properly when it feels like your heartbeat is deafening.

"Psst...Law!" A harsh whisper comes from the stairs, Crockett poking his head out from the stairwell. "What are you doing? Don't stand in the open like that!"

"Careful..." This time it's your father whispering from the door, warning whoever can listen. "I'll be fine. Don't open."

>Ask your father to stall for time, look for that gun
>Go upstairs with the others
>Wait in the garage
test again
>Ask your father to stall
Hopefully Crockett's friends are just around the corner

>Ask how many there are
>Ask where the gun is
Quick questions, quick answers.
Creeping over to the door, you grab his wrist to let him know you're there.

"Who is that?" he whispers, holding still now.

"Gun." you demand.

"La- er, nightstand. By the bed..." He sounds uncertain by this, but doesn't try to stop you.

"Stall...for time."

"I...fine. Keep Del and your girl safe." Your father retracts his hand, hand returning inside as he tosses his house keys inside. You run to the bedroom, going to the wooden nightstand on the side he sleeps on. From the cracked open front door, you can hear part of his conversation.

"Must have gone out through the garage and forgot to undo the chain... can't go through the backdoor. Hands shook too much, dropped my keys inside..." The door slams shut, and you pull out the Redhawk that your father kept to protect the family. Never before had you seen him fire it in actual self-defense and you hope that doesn't change tonight. Fingers shaking, you fumble with the cylinder to check inside. Six bullets rest inside, and you pray that you won't need any of them.

Coming back in to the living room, you can barely hear your father talking with someone else. The conversation sounds calm enough, but you jump with the loud thud against the door that interrupts them. Sounds like someones been slammed against it, and the odds of who it may have been do not rest easy with you. The doorknob begins to move around, scratching noises following. Whoever has accompanied your father doesn't care if the door is locked, they're going to get in.

>Go upstairs, don't separate from the others
>Hide in the garage, you can get outside easier that way
>Go to the bedroom, no one can sneak up on you and there should be more bullets in there
>Go upstairs, don't separate from the others
You watch the door, scared for his safety, but know better than to become an easy target. The sounds from your footsteps moving up are muffled easily by the front door, the sound of a loud and angry man coming from where your father stood. Crockett wait at the top of the stairwell, crouched around the corner with his gun finally pulled. A few steps behind your mother waits, holding Delilah back.

"Who was he-" Before he can finish the question there's a loud thunk on the first floor and the front door swings open. It comes to a short and violent stop by the chain, followed by an impatient movement of slamming it open and closed. Like a child throwing a tantrum, you can hear a man trying to calm the noise. It does finally come to a stop, but the silence isn't going to last.

"Who was he with?!" Crockett finally gets the question out, pulling you to wait next to him.

"Couldn't...see." You feel out of breath, much more than you should right now. A pressing weight is on your chest, and it doesn't go away when Delilah calls your name.

"Lawrence-" She stops short when you turn to look back at her, the gun catching her sights. Now there's no denying the severity of the situation, and she falls silent.

"Dammit, goddammit...!" Crockett looks at the time on his right wrist, gritting his teeth. "We still have ten minutes before Palmer is supposed to get here, dammit dammit dammit... Gimme a second to think..." From the sounds of it you can't really afford to waste any time, but your head is already racing with aggressive and angry thoughts. There's a storm brewing inside of you right now, your body having the need to fight but no clear target yet.

You try to calm your breathing as Crockett brainstorms, looking back down the hallway. "I know we're on the second floor but does scaling down the side of the house sound out of the question?"

"Fire ladder, there should be a fire ladder upstairs," your mother says, pointing to where the entrance is on the ceiling, "You just have to secure it to one of the windowsills and it's good to go."

"Wish there was a window to have you go out through the back- shit, running off means we'll lose contact with Palmer..." Crockett scratches his head in frustration, "But I don't like staying here either, what do you think-"

The clink of the newly cut chain hitting the door nearly sends you in to a fury. This time, the door is allowed to swing open freely. It smacks against the wall without a care, and the shuffling of feet inside let you know you're not alone.

"Hey, easy now!" your father's strained and slightly slurred voice makes it through the noise, "Nobody else is home right now, they must've left already!"

"We're going to take a look around." A man's voice you somewhat recognize, you're sure to see the tinted windows of his car waiting outside. "All you need to do is cooperate with us, and everything will be fine. We'll give you the reward money and get out of your hair-"

"I told you, that girl isn't here! She must have ran off with my son, they were making plans on doing that. They would've left while I was gone-"

"No, oh no no no..." Heavier footsteps accompany this disgusting voice, hands gripping the Redhawk tighter in response. If your nerves had been shot before than they've gone beyond anything remotely healthy, hands shaking as you try to hold back now. From behind you can hear Delilah starting to hyperventilate, but you've already prepared for your own chest pains.

"That sonofabitch..." Crockett mutters, edging away from the stairs.

"Sir, wait. I don't think you should walk around the house like that, not till we have it secured-"
The man talking right now, Richard or whatever his fucking name is, can't keep his pig disgusting boss under control. Despite Crockett's efforts to keep you back, you move close enough to see the scene downstairs.

Your father's face is a bloodied mess, half of his face bruised and red trickling from his nose and mouth. He stands with hands behind his back, Richard holding his arms. Another person stands just outside the front door, but you aren't close enough to see who. Even if you could, there's little you can do but watch as Bowers, the man himself, walks around your living room freely. He holds his own gun at hand, some tiny pistol from the looks of it, as he stops right where Delilah had been sitting earlier. You feel sick to your stomach when he starts sniffing the air, a greasy smile spreading across his face. He was already disgusting before, but he looks absolutely ragged now. Unkept, unwashed, teetering around like he might fall over at any moment.

"She's here!" Bower's hands clench up tight, looking around wildly. "My little gattina!"

"I told you, her and Lawrence have left-" your father stops when the gun gets pointed at him. Even Richard, his ever so loyal lapdog, looks frightened by this.

"Don't lie to me. I know she's here. I can smell her! Her wonderful sweet smell is here, it's all over! I've missed it so much, I need her! I need her now! Where is she!"

Even with the muzzle pressed against his chin, your father remains strong.

"I don't know where she is. If I did, I wouldn't tell you."

This time, Bowers grabs your father by the collar and jams the gun further against his chin. "Tell me where she is, I want her. I want her right here, right now. Do you have any idea how long I've waited? I just want my sweet sweet girl back, is that so wrong? Tell me where she is, I'll collect what rightfully belongs to me and I'll leave you with the money." He tries to make this proposition sound sweet, but to anyone else it's absolutely nauseating.
"I'm not doing that."

"Fucking TELL ME! TELL ME WHERE DELILAH!" Bowers starts to lift your father up, choking him as the gun shakes in his hand. Richard watches your father go through this, being too cowardly too stop it. "If you don't tell me that's fine! I'll blow your jaw off! Your fucking whore of a wife will come home to find your dead on the ground-"
This alone is almost enough to send you down blindly to his aid, but a female voice downstairs stops you.

"HEY!" An authoritative cut to her words, it's easy to guess that she's the officer from outside. "That wasn't part of the agreement! I held my tongue when you threw him against the door, I will NOT hesitate to break our agreement if you shoot him!"

"We won't be leaving with anyone if you don't listen to her. Wh-What use will he be to you dead anyhow?" Richard finally has the balls to speak up, and you remember his cohorts. Bower drops your father to the ground, letting him cough and bleed on the floor of his family home.

"Easy Law..." Crockett whispers to you, "Wait a sec..."

What he's done to your father is more than enough to make you want to see him suffer.

"You're lucky, Mr. Talbot..." Bowers mumbles, backing up, "Officer Lang wants to play the nice cop it seems. You can thank her later. I'd just empty my gun into you, like I did to that faggot with the glorified strip cluuuuuub..." The last word gets stretched out as he tumbles about the room, either looking for his balance or spasming out.

"De-li-laaaah!" He sings out finally, words bellowing out through the house. "Come back down to meeee, I know you're here! You can't keep running from meeee, not when I have your sceeeent!"

"Please try to keep it down..." Richard says meekly, but his words go unheeded.

"Come to me! Come to me so I don't have to look for you- Unless you like hide-and-seek! I'll play any game you want!" Bower walks back over, daring to nudge your father with his foot. "Here's a game we can plaaaay, come down before I count to twenty and you won't have to sleep tonight knowing that you're the reason someone else died!"
Delilah chokes out a cry, your mother having to muffle her noises. With tears down her own face, your mother looks up unsure of what to ask you right now.

The officer objects to this, even with dirty money in her pocket. "Hey, what did I just say-"

"I don't care what you say. I'm sure your coworkers would like to know just what kind of hand you had in all of this! You don't think I would make a deal with a bitch like you without recording it? I won't hesitate to show our little exchange to someone who could put you away for a long long time. Or, if you don't want me to go to your work place, I know plenty of friends willing to hide your body at the bottom of the lake."

"You son of a-!" Something cuts her short, something from outside, and cursing under her breath as she has to accept the circumstances.

"I really wouldn't recommend this sir."

"It's a good thing you work for me, isn't it? Or do you want to get rid of your only chance to get better? I can do it, I have the hands of a god, I can fix you!" Incomprehensible muttering and sounds come from Bowers next. He shakes it out, remembering what he had at hand.

"I'm starting now!" he announces, gun pressed against your father's head. "If I don't see someone down here by the time I reach twenty!"

"D-Do something!" your mother says, trying to calm Delilah.

"ONE... TWO... THREE..."

>The girls need to stay here, take a stand on the stairs
>Escape with the girls, send Crockett downstairs
>Let Crockett go with the girls, help your father
>Call his bluff
Something to the effect of "I will kill Delilah myself if you shoot my father"
>The girls need to stay here, take a stand on the stairs
>Call his bluff

Crockett has already started looking towards the attic, contemplating whether or not he'd be able to pull it down without making too much noise.


"H-He's g-g-going to...oh my g-god h-he..." Delilah can't finish a sentence, her words stuttering and die as soon as they come. Your mother is doing everything in her power to keep her calm, all while trying to keep herself together at the same time.


Richard steps back, turning a blind eye to a boss that's fallen over the edge. The officer on the porch is forced to bite her tongue, kept silent by whoever stands behind her outside.

And for you, it's like the world has gone crimson and all you can think about is making that sack of shit squeal.

"...If I could flag down Palmer later... hey Law, stay with us buddy." Crockett must have been trying to talk over a plan, but all you can pay attention to is the countdown and Delilah's exasperated sobs. Everything else has melded together and drowned out, and if you don't try to do anything now than you might not have any control left.

The Redhawk held out in both hands, you move down the stairs just enough to let everyone know you're here. Almost immediately, Richard aims his gun at you with Officer Lang following hesitantly. Neither deter you from keeping your sights on Bowers. You can barely hear Crockett curse at your actions as Bowers stops counting.

The person you can barely call a man stares up at you, eyes unfocused as his gun continues to press against your father.

Your father looks up at you, blood staining his teeth as he tries to hold back the hand trying to choke him. He's fearful of you, upset not because his life is up for gamble but because you might be involved too.

"You... Yes, I know you..." Bowers slurs his words, dragging them out in his sticky tone. "Mr. Lawrence Talbot, the thief who stole away my sweet sweet Delilah..." He sounds lost, like he had forgotten everything in the middle of counting. It takes everything you have to not pull the trigger the moment he says her name, your father forcing you to show restraint.

"Put down the gun..." Richard inches closer, trying to get an advantage shot on you. Crockett, having his hand forced, comes down on the steps to cover you.
Crockett moves just a step above you, keeping his aim on Richard. "Better know what you're doing..." he grumbles, letting out a distressed sigh upon seeing the woman at the door.

"They came down, put your gun away Bower." Officer Lang says, looking between you and Crockett. "If you continue making a racket like this, the neighbors might call it in. I won't be able to cover your ass if anyone else gets called in."

"Then why don't you stop bitching at me, and go let our lovely neighbors outside know that you're taking care of things right now. Earn that money I'm paying you, sweetie."

"Don't...Don't you fucking talk to me like that-"

"I'd watch your tongue. Money is one thing, but what good is it if you can't buy those pain meds you love? One more ugly word from you, and I'll make sure you're scrapping the bottom of a hospital dumpster for your next hit. Officer." Bowers gun finally gives a little space between the muzzle and your father, though those few inches would do nothing to save him. Lang looks appalled by his words, but before trying to speak up she's pulled away from the door.

"I'd suggest doing what he says right now, he's a bit touchy." An older man replaces Lang, taking her spot by the door as she's moved along. You recognize him from before, another one of Bowers' help. Calm and poised, he readily pulls his own handgun and aims at the stairs.

"I see two ugly mugs," Bowers says as he looks up and down the stairs, "But not my little sweetheart. She's not going to win this game if she doesn't come out."

"Don't...don't do it..." your father manages to spit out, closing his eyes. "It's fine, it'll be fine..." His hands claw at the one holding him down, but he knows better than to blindly grab for the gun.

"You won't...shoot." your words come out rougher than before, it burns to speak.

"Right right, you're the mute. Almost mute, I guess. The face gash is new, I hope you haven't been playing too rough with my Delilah. I can't imagine her running off with some sort of hoodlum like you... If you haven't roughed her up too much, I might be willing to fix that ghastly cheek of yours! " Bowers laughs at nothing in particular, the older man at the door speaking up next.

"If she's up there, just send her down. If not, then I'm afraid we will have to take you with us." he says, trying to keep up the appearance of civility.
"No. Not...handing over."

"That's fine, I'm happy with winning this game. I'll just make an example out of your father, and then I'll take what's mine." Bowers never loses his grin, not even looking up at you. "And if you're going to be such a spoilsport about it, I'll bring you with. I can at least find out just what you've put my Delilah through, my sweet bride."

Your stomach lurches at him saying bride, and your finger inches closer to the trigger.

"If kill...him..." your mind is whirling around much too quick right now, you feel repulsed by the idea you come up with but nothing else stands out. "I... I will... kill her."

Bowers raises a curious eyebrow at this, an answer he wasn't expecting. "You think you would do that?"

Crockett looks over at you suspiciously, trying not to glance over to Delilah right now. You don't dare to look at her- the look of fear that she must have right now would just destroy you.

"If he...dies."

"You wouldn't be able to do that."

"I will."

"Just look at you right now, trying to act tough but you're terrified of holding that gun right now aren't you? I bet it belongs to your old man here," Bowers nudges at your father, "A thug who can't stand to use a gun, but I'm sure you'd love nothing more than to choke me again."

It feels like you're gasping for breath right now, but it's far too late to back down.

"Rather kill...her. Than let...you have. Again."

"Lawrence..." Crockett tries to warn under his breath, but it does nothing.

"Is that so? Are you sure you could really kill a sweet girl like her? Than again, I am looking at a felon. Maybe I'm the one rescuing the sweet sweet princess, and you're the awful dragon standing in my way."

"He's fucking loony." You don't need Crockett to say it, everyone in the room can tell.

"I'm very serious about my little game right now." Bowers teases. When you refuse to retrieve Delilah, the gun slides from your father's neck to the floor next to his ear. With a quick pull of the trigger, Bowers fires a shot into the floor. Your father flinches at the noise, trying to arch away from it as his ears ring at the closeness of it. "If she loses, the next one goes right through his head. I believe I was on nine..."

>Hold Delilah 'hostage', fake negotiations till Palmer arrives
>Give your own warning shot, you aren't playing Bowers game
>Offer yourself up for your father
>Defer to Crockett, rely on his gift of gab to disrupt Bower's already scattered thoughts, stalling for time
Not like we even have to wait for Palmer anyway, neighbors will have heard that shot.

Faking Delilah as a hostage should be a last resort, we shouldn't force her to look at Bower nor give him the satisfaction of seeing her if we can avoid it.
>Give your own warning shot, you aren't playing Bowers game

Crockett can probably handle this situation better
Shoot Bower. With no Bower, nobody can gain anything from their previous arrangements.

You're gonna end up a martyr, but you're already back against the wall with no good options.
File: Spoiler Image (135 KB, 1346x1000)
135 KB
135 KB JPG
pretend I got this done with the last post
File: Spoiler Image (486 KB, 840x599)
486 KB
486 KB PNG
Cause I wanna do shitty sketches instead of writing
Changing vote to this
Rolled 25 (1d100)

Screw this, rolling for surprise 3rd party deus ex machina or something
Rolled 77 (1d100)

File: Spoiler Image (732 KB, 1138x766)
732 KB
732 KB PNG
Del x2
This but don't end up a martyr.
You guys know he's got Law's dad as a human shield, right.

That he's holding a gun to Jack's neck, finger on the trigger, and all it'll take is a spike in stress for a sympathetic response to end Jacks' life.
Pffahaha, it's probably the same anons who think Del can actually put up a fight.

News flash: This is gritty mcgrimdark, your cinematics have no power here.
Reading the thread I have to agree with this
Lawrence doesn't have the experience with firearms to pull off a stunt like that without causing his father's death in the process
Guess I throw my vote for >>1440665
Your hand is itching for the trigger, the room around you pinning while Bower remains steady in your sights. Through the buzz in your head, Delilah's harsh breathing is the only noise to break through.

There's some distance and an angle between you and him, reminding you of the inexperience that lays in your hands. A gun is just a gun, if you can manage to hit him once then you can keep pulling the trigger. Fill the bastard full of lead, and hop down these steps and finish the job with your bare hands if needed. You can go to prison again, that's fine. If his ever so loyal goons shoot back, that's fine. There's enough adrenaline running in your veins to let you shrug it off, to get rid of his grotesque smile forever.

But Bower's own trigger finger is just as ready to pull, your father's life very much resting in your actions. Hell, Crockett's and yours are at stake too, so long as two guns remain pointed at the stairs.

Delilah's justice lays between how many lives you'll give up for it, much less what would happen should your aim fail. Even if you don't manage to hit your father, there are two very ready employees ready to defend their boss. The urge to try and take him out grows, but your indecision on what to do makes you feel weak. The floor beneath won't hold still, and it hurts to breathe. Crockett glances over, waiting for any sort of instruction or sign from you.

"Now's not the time to be freezing up..." Crockett whispers from the corner of his mouth, between Bower's growing count. He doesn't get any answer for you, the gun remaining tight in your hands. One pull is all it takes, but it'll be the bullet that costs you the most. "Dammit man..."

The gun in Crockett's hand relaxes, but only slightly, as he speaks out. "Little surprised to see you here, I uh, must've gotten sloppy somewhere along the way."
Bower grins more at his admittance of a mistake and gestures at your father. "Thank the man of the house for that. He was kind enough to call up our number from the paper, course he kept insisting that she wasn't actually here anymore. Wouldn't tell us where we could find her, but I managed to coax it out of him nice and easy."

"S-Sorry Lawrence..." your father sputters, "I'm s-so sorry..."

"Don't be sorry, you're helping reunite two star crossed lovers. It's romantic, really."

You can't help but choke every time he speaks. If he would just point the gun away from your father for a second, just for a moment to maybe give you a chance... A chance to fuck up, you can't make that shot. Standing is difficult enough right now, how are you going to down this man in one go? That's all you've really got, the moment you decide to fire then it'll be returned in double.

"Hey, she could already be on her way home. I'm sure you know a little something about our game of chase earlier. For all you know, we just got done dropping her off with some buddies of mine before you decided to waste our time." He might be falling in the groove of talking, but Crockett doesn't dare lower his gun any further. "Guess your driver couldn't keep up, eh?"

"I promise, you didn't lose me." The older man man speaks up, the conversation enough to keep Bower giddy and mostly silent now. "I was more than capable of continuing, Ace."

The gun in Crockett's hands drops slightly, as he eyes the man carefully. "You know me, or of me?" From the corner of your eyes, you dare a few quick glances to watch as your mother holds Delilah, trying to keep her quiet and calm. She looks over at you and nods- so long as he isn't getting closer to twenty, your father should be safe.

"I retired before you came on, but we were almost coworkers. Though, you turned your badge in much sooner than I did." All this time, Bower has been mumbling the name Ace over and over under his breath, his grip relaxed but still aimed at your father.

"What can I say? Detective Crockett rolls off the tongue a bit better for me."

"Crockett... Crockett..." Bower looks up at him, dead stare on his face. "You. You have something that belongs to me. I'll take them back with me too." You remember the two items Crockett had brought with, laying in the living room unnoticed so far. If he knows to search for the tapes now, they might not stay hidden for much longer.
"Not a chance in hell-" He doesn't get to finish his statement, yelling coming from outside. Lang seems to be arguing with two other people, a man and a woman from the sounds of it. "Finally, Palmer got down here."

"Sir, we need to go-" Richard comes to help his boss move but he's waved away, Bower insisting on dragging your father further into the living room.

"Let Lang handle it! I'm not leaving here without my things! Bring me that girl, bring me the tapes, bring it to me! Now!" As Bower squeezes his throat tighter your father chokes for breath, Richard looking between him and the door with a growing worry.

"We gotta get him out of here Hanson, we can get through the back while Lang is talking to them..." Richard is too scared to move right now, but his coworker doesn't prove the same. He starts to walk towards Bower, keeping his aim between you and Crockett. If you can just wait long enough for him to pull your father away, than maybe you can still get the shot in, you just need a bit more patient, keep focused, don't take your eyes off him for a second.

Lang must have gotten herself into a fight outside, the yelling quickly turning into a struggle. The clattering noise of glass near the front door is shortly followed by a heavy thunk of a heavy dark object, and the other woman's voice calls out.


"Shit...!" The gun in Crockett's hand drops as he grabs your shoulder, forcing you to turn around and duck low. There's no time for you to object, a bright light and a deafening bang shaking your world.

The ringing in your ears remain even as your vision tries to focus, feeling even more sick to your stomach than before. Pain in your knee orients your body only somewhat, able to guess where you rest on the stairs with your blurry vision. Crockett is scrambling to pick up his gun from the steps, his hand reaching around trying to land where it needs to. The Redhawk has fallen, sliding down the steps away from you.

You can barely see, and a consistent ring keeps you deaf in the meantime. A flash bang won't make you stop though, as you-

>Go make sure your father is free
>Make sure the tapes stay in your possession
>Stay by Delilah
>Make sure the tapes stay in your possession
That's just become a priority, threats inside the house have been all but eliminated by the flashbang. With us being this affected out by the stairs, they'll be even worse off.
>Go make sure your father is free
>Make sure the tapes stay in your possession
Law's father is on the path so we can see about recovering him
You need to make sure those tapes don't leave this house in the wrong hands. Despite your hand keeping you up against the wall, it still feels impossible to figure out which way is down when you can hear nothing but a painful and unending ring. Somehow you manage to slump down a couple of steps, but step to far and fall heavily to the floor. The thudding pain going through your ribs lets you know where the floor is now, your vision once again spinning.

Ignoring the pain in your side, you manage to pull forward till your hand touches the fabric of a chair. The urge to vomit rushes in as you stand with the chair, trying to focus your vision. It's settling too slowly, forced to rely on touch and how well you remember the layout of the room. The vague movement of shapes start to appear in the hazy corner of your peripherals, as do the bigger objects in the room.

Finally, after several tries, your fingers brush against the suitcase. You scramble to grab both it and the bag, keeping them secure under your arm. It confused you when Bower claimed these were his, Crockett telling you they had came from someone else's possessions. It really doesn't matter right now though- you just need to make sure they don't get carried off. As you take a step forward you stumble, feeling worse than before. You promise to club whoever thought this was a good idea, you've never felt so disoriented before.
There's a rumble at your feet, not just from the room tilting. You can barely tell that it's your father struggling on top of a collapsed Bower, someone else hunched over the floor and successfully losing the contents of their stomach. You stumble towards your father, seeing now that he's taking a few well deserved swings at Bower. You can't see what Bower is doing, if he's even conscious at this point, but your father has managed to get some of his wits back. Much as you'd like to join him right now, you know it's better not to linger like this.

You pull him off, trying to avoid his redirected but clumsy punches. He's trying to yell, you can see his mouth moving, but neither of you can hear a word. For now you work on pulling him towards the front door, best as you can. He fights you the entire way, his vision returning much slower than yours. He would have been unprepared and facing the light when it happened, as would have Bower. Personally, you're glad that fat fuck is suffering right now, but your father is also out of commission for now.

Trying to figure out what's going on now, you're forced to lean against the wall as you try to see who is where. The blob of Bower's body is rather easy to find on the ground, as is the body nearby on the ground. Problem is, you can only spot one of his men. In reflex you try to call out for Crockett, only to realize that you can't even hear yourself.

The front door comes open, the movement big enough to catch your attention, and a figure moves in. Standing in the living room for a moment, you can only tell that it's a slender figure. They look around at the mess created before heading up the stairs, your eyes unable to focus enough to see what's going on from there. Your father slumps against the wall, who's too scared to do anything else with his senses still lost.

The lump that is Bower starts to move, someone else attempting to get his body off the ground. Faces are impossible to see still, but you can at least guess that it's a man trying to take him away. Whoever was on the ground beside him has started to crawl away, sick and lost in all the confusion.

>Get the tapes and your father outside to safety
>Find out what the person is doing upstairs
>Make sure Bower stays here
>Recover the Redhawk
>Find out what the person is doing upstairs
Crockett's probably already dragged himself up the stairs, but let's make sure.

The neighbors have to react by now.
You try to give instructions to your father in vain, knowing fully well that he can't hear a word of it yet. The briefcase and bag get shoved into his arms and he holds on to them like his life depends on it, safer in his hands rather than you trying to move around with it. And right now, finding out who just went up the stairs is the priority. The stairs stand still a lot more than you had left them, but the climb up is still a swirling mess of intimidation. Forced to hold on to the banister, you keep your sight to the steps to keep steady and praying not to fall again.

A shape of gray rests on one of the lower steps, the Ruger Redhawk laying where it had dropped. It takes several tries, fear of losing your balance again as you reach down, but the gun is once again in your possession. Keeping it at hand, you manage to pull yourself up to the second floor. Light headed from the excursion, it's hard to keep your balance and look around.

The person who came up here appears to be a woman, dressed up in a uniform. In one hand you can see her holding Delilah, who is struggling against the hand holding her wrist. The woman is having to try and hold back your mother, who is attempting to get Delilah away from this stranger. As you move forward you get the attention of Delilah, who increases her efforts of escape. With a swift kick, she delivers a blow to the back of the woman's knee and makes her stumble forward. With that and your mother trying to pull her away, her grip loosens enough for Delilah to wriggle away free and rush towards you.
She comes up and grabs you, holding on tightly as she feels you sway from the motion. Up close you can start to see more details of her face come into focus, her mouth moving as she's trying to speak. Right now, you can only sort of hear the mess of garbled noises that might be coming from her, but nothing you can make out.

As your mother continues to try and detain the woman you move towards her with the intent of helping. Delilah starts shaking her head, still trying to yell as she grabs your free hand and starts pulling. Leading you down the stairs, or at least trying to. You're much less agile than she is right now, as she's forced to help keep you up. You still worry about your mother, but Delilah is intent on leading you away.

You follow her down to the steps, forced to hold on to her for support the entire way down. As she stops to let you catch your breath, there's a fear that she will see her monster and freeze up. Bower doesn't look to be in the living room any longer, nor can you see whoever had been on the floor. As long as that means Delilah can leave here in decent enough shape that's fine, you can curse yourself for that later. She spots your father and starts a beeline to him, never once letting go of your hand this entire time.

She's still trying to talk to you, her face scrunching up from the pain in her own ears. Despite how adamant she is about her message, Delilah stops once she looks past you. Fear comes across her face again as she looks towards the kitchen, pointing at the scene. Too far for you to see the finer details yet, you can still make out the form of two figures struggling against one another. You can only guess that Crockett is one of them, though it's impossible for you to tell who is who much less who is winning.

Out of the door, a small mess of cars has gathered up front, their shapes all melding together in to one for now. There's no flashing lights, but you doubt that will remain the case for long.

Bower must have left from the back, leaving one of his goons to fight with Crockett.

Delilah seems persistent about pointing out the kitchen scuffle, and you remember that your mother is upstairs right now too.

>Go up and help your mother
>Go help Crockett
>Take Delilah and Jacks outside
>Go help Crockett
If we can take one of Bower's goons captive, we'll be able to get some kind of answers. The officer upstairs should have enough common sense to realize the game is over for her.

>Go up and help your mother
Help Crockett. Mom needs help too, but theres probably a reason Del is so insistent.
You pull away from Delilah, hesitant to let you go but she stays back with your father. Getting to the kitchen is difficult, you find yourself stumbling and tripping for most of the way. But the closer you get, the easier it is to see one of the men has fallen prey to a choke hold. It doesn't take much longer for you to figure out that Crockett is the one losing this battle, grabbing and scratching at the arm keeping him immobile.

The other man, Hanson, seems to be intent on also dragging Crockett to the backdoor. Rather unrefined and clumsy, this attempt comes to a stop when you throw yourself at the man. He stumbles, attempting to swing but missing with his also messed up depth of field. On to the tile, Crockett falls and tries to regain his stolen breath again. His gun lays too far away, haven gotten kicked during the struggle.

Before he can try to pull out his own weapon, you force Hanson's hands up at the threat of the Redhawk. You can't see straight, even up close missing seems too great of a worry, but you don't let him know. Yanking him up, you pull Crockett with as you back away from the enemy. He doesn't dare move a muscle, his hands remaining in the air as you try to make it towards the front door. You pray for your mother's safety, hoping that the cop upstairs wouldn't dare to hurt her. The flash of red and white outside hopefully spells safety, the sirens accompanying it slowly starting to fight the ringing.

A soft grab from behind catches your attention, and you make the mistake of looking back.

"...-ave t-...go bef-...-ight now...!" Only tiny bits and pieces of her words come through right now, and from outside you can see Lang slowly approaching forward. As you begin to question who is upstairs with your mother, the sound of a shot echoes. By reflex you shove Delilah over, letting Crockett take her before the wind get knocked from your chest. A force against your right shoulder forces you a few steps back, and the pain that radiates from it keeps you still. Your hand comes up to touch it, the warm wet feeling not initially registering.

The entirety of your right arm goes numb, and soon after it spreads through your chest.

The room has finally stopped spinning, everything coming to a pause for a moment.

Your left palm comes away with a red sticky warmth, and the pain finally pushes through the shock.
There's no need to guess where the shot came from, Hanson dropping the gun used as he leaves the kitchen. You aren't sure if he hit his target or if the bullet was meant for someone else, but it doesn't matter. Your knees give out as you collapse to the floor, breathing erratic as you watch the blood drip to the floorboard. It's hurts so bad, you wish the pain would stop, you can't ignore it or power through like everything else. The bullet might have went all the way through, it might be bigger than you think it is, but you can't think about anything else but wanting it to stop.

Everything sounds so distant over the ringing, your eyes won't focus no matter how much you try, you're too lightheaded to think properly but not nearly enough to ignore this. The fear of death starts to race through your mind- you're scared of it. You don't want to die, but you don't want to feel this any longer either. This is the worst thing you've felt in a long, long time and you'd give nearly anything to make it quit.

"...-bulance, shooting on the sce-..."

You dare a look over to the side, just in time to watch Delilah being dragged away by Crockett. She's reaching out and you wish she didn't have to see you this.

"Don't look...hurts...hurts-" It's impossible to tell if she can even hear you, but you really don't want her to remember this.

A new surge of pain comes from your shoulder, a hand pressing down upon it. Too weak and too shaky to push it away, you can see that it belongs to Lang.

"...Breathe... keep breathing...calm..." She's trying to give instructions, but those are the only words you can pick out. Other people in uniform start to come in to the house, but you don't have the energy to watch what they're doing. "...Ambulance on the way..."

You want to know if your parents are okay, you want to know if Delilah is getting somewhere safe, you want this pain to end.

"G-Going to... gonna... d-die..." You can't hear the words you choke out, but Lang seems able to.

"...-help. They will-....-be fine. Get you medical-... keep calm." Lang watches the officers that pass by her nervously, knowing full well the trouble she could be in if the wrong ears hear. She helped Bower, it's her fault you're in this position right now- it has to be. Fear and anger start to fight for dominance despite needing to be calm right now.

"Where...is she?" You're shouting now, you can tell.

"...-it down. Don't-...worked up." Lang can see that you're not going to accept that as an answer, and she searches for Delilah for you. "Outside by a Cha-...-trying to leave."

>Don't get separated, demand to go with them
>Wait for the ambulance
I apologize for all the waiting and such, graduation has been keeping me busy
>Don't get separated, demand to go with them
And Lang's coming with so we can get some fucking answers.
Backing but be willing to concede and wait for the ambulance

Crockett can pick us up later or send someone
Oh, definitely. Emotional, irrational demands, but realizing it'd draw unnecessary attention to get in the car with a gunshot wound.
"No...hospital-" You must have been talking louder than you thought, as Lang is quick to hush you and look around.

"The hell you mean no hospital? Do I need to remind you of what happened?" she hisses the words close to your ear, pressing down harder on the wound to prove her point as you flinch. "I've already got my ass in hot water as it is."

"Not my...p-probl-...-em..." Your fists clench up as the pain keeps rippling through, frustration growing with it. "T-Take m-...me to...to th-them..."

"Keep it down!" Relying on the snippets of words you can catch and trying to read her blurry lips, you can mostly make out what she's saying. Hopefully.

"Do...it." You push the words through gritted teeth, trying to keep your hands down and not push her away. Lang starts speaking again but another police officer comes up to talk with her. You can't understand him as well, mostly getting the conversation from her side.

"...yeah, called one down... can handle this" While Lang talks, you attempt to look down and away from who she's speaking to. Being recognized wouldn't be a good sign, but he seems content with finding something else to stay busy with. Lang returns her attention towards you, looking to the door and back at you.

"I really, really, don't you need blabbing about what happened here..." she sighs but moves in close, wrapping an arm under yours and standing. You can't help but flinch at the movement of getting up, feeling even more lightheaded than before. "...-keep you from falling. Keep...- head down and ...breathe. Slow steps." You just nod at the pieces of instruction you could understand, keeping a hand pressed firmly to your shoulder.

It hurts more as you walk and at the front door you stop to fall against it, scared that the next step could kill you.

"Need you to stay with me-" Lang once against whispers to your ear, "Going to be okay. Breathe, take deep slow breaths. Looks worse than it really is... you can't stop here."

You nod without meaning it, trying to follow what she says. It feel impossible to get your breathing under control right now, but somehow you manage to slow it down. Lang encourages you to take a few steps and you comply, stepping out to the cold air outside. The flashing lights hurt and obscure your vision, but she leads the way. A blocky dark car looks to be your destination, Crockett standing outside of it.

"Here, this where you wanted to go?" Lang asks as she brings you next to the car, letting you lean on it instead of her. Crockett walks over, shaking his head and wincing as he tries to regain full use of his hearing.
"Jesus Christ..." he mutters, coming to a stop in front of you. A handkerchief rests in his hand, dabbing at his cut lip. "Why the hell did you move him?"

"Keep it down!" Lang all but shouts. "It's what he wanted! He told me to bring him over to you guys, and I just-"

"Is he okay?!" You hear Delilah before seeing her, watching the young girl struggle out of the backseats to poke her head out of the door. Lang looks ready to remind her to stay quiet but gives up on the idea, instead trying to keep watch for any snooping coworkers.

"A-Are you okay? Oh my god..." Her small hands come to cover her mouth and nose, smelling the blood before seeing you. "We have to get him help! W-We have to do it, n-now! What if he-, I c-can't have him d-... He caaan't...-"

"He's going to be fine. Long as we keep pressure on it, he'll be fine. But he does need help, sooner than later," Lang says, "I called an ambulance down, but he insisted on coming over here. How long is it going to take to get him some help?"

Crockett looks wary of answering, but with Delilah trying to hold herself back from a breakdown he allows an answer. "We're waiting on our driver to get back down here. I'm in no shape to get behind the wheel right now, and from there we've got about an hour drive, hour twenty depending on the road."

"C-Coming...Coming with..." you say, pointing at Lang.

"Since when?" she asks, but a quick glare shuts her up.

Crockett nods at you, hands resting in his coat pockets. "Might be for the best. Bit unconventional, but it'd be for the best if you came along with us. There's a few questions we'd like from you, and while I'd rather make this as smooth as possible... we can convince you to be cooperative."

"That depends, will I be able to go home?"

"We're much nicer than your, I assume, boss? Supplier? Doesn't matter, work with us and we'll treat you nicely." He looks over at the car door, where Delilah looks scared and conflicted about staying back or coming to your aid. "Besides, you think I'd get mean in front of the kid like that? If there's anyone you need to worry about, it's her. You helped get her Prince Charming here get a lead souvenir from all this, after all."

Lang thinks about her options, letting out a sigh as she throws her hands up. "Okay, fine. But I don't really want to be riding around with someone that's going to be bleeding all over the place for over an hour."

"Afraid that's our only option at the moment."

"I, okay I know you aren't going to want to trust me, but hear me out. We can take your route, get there in an hour and a half, whatever. But I have an uncle that lives only half an hour away at most, he's a doctor. We can stop there, get him patched up... you can ask your questions, and then maybe you can let me stay there."

>Take Lang's offer, go her uncle
>You can hold out for an hour
>You can hold out for an hour
As a sign of courtesy, too. Leaving the scene now, after she's been seen by other officers and called an ambulance would leave her with some hard explaining to do.
>Take Lang's offer, go her uncle
Best get it taken care of ASAP

With a bit of a silver tongue Lang might be able to wave it off to her superiors as thinking Lawrence's dad was the one who'd been shot
Actually, yeah. I take back my original vote in favor of going to Lang's uncle. The faster we can get the wound taken care of the better
>Take Lang's offer, go her uncle
Crockett looks ready to speak up but you interrupt. "U-Uncle."

"I don't know about that-" he becomes abruptly silent again as Delilah reaches out and pulls on his sleeve.

"We have to fix him, right now!" She tries to add a stern face to her demands, refusing to budge on the order.

"Well, I wasn't going to allow it till the little lady asked..." Delilah isn't going to let go till she knows for sure, and Crockett adds, "We can head over that way and get Law stable. Rather not dillydallying further than that. But if anything even starts to seem fishy about this-"

"I just want this day to end right now. Got a headache like you wouldn't believe right now..." Lang has started to fan herself despite the chilly outside.

"Gonna be a bit longer before then. Let's get him inside, and then I need you to stick by me till we leave. Don't need you trying to run off early on us, else I might not know what to say when someone asks me what Officer Lang had been doing here earlier," Crockett says this while looking over at the two cars parked on the street with their lights flashing, "Especially since she decided to come down without her squad car."

"I get it, I get it." Lang scowls, scratching at a spot on her head. "Really don't wanna be here much longer, so if we could get a move on things..."

Two rows of backseats facing each other, Delilah sits right behind the driver's side as she watches you stumble in. Lang lends a hand, muttering under hear breath as she gets you to lay down on last seat.

"C'mon, get your legs up here," she instructs, "And don't release pressure. Better you hold it down the less blood you'll get all over the place."

"Here, use this." Crockett passes up a spare handkerchief, Lang helping you to position it on your shoulder.

"Breathe, don't let this go, stay awake..." Lang looks over to Delilah as she gives her instructions, "If he can't keep this in place, you might have to do it for him. Think you can handle it?" You prepare for Crockett to object to this, but Delilah nods quickly.
"I can do it, I promise. It'll be fine, I'll take care of him." She looks terrified, but Lang seems to trust her with this task- for better or worse.

"Alright Lang, you come with me. You two, plan to leave in about five minutes. Gonna go check on Palmer and your parents, maybe try to talk to some of these folks that were called down. Del, you remember your instructions?" Crockett waits for her to nod before slamming the door shut, walking off with Lang. You look over at her and she quickly explains.

"He said that I'm supposed to keep all the doors locked, and not to let anyone in. I'm not supposed to leave either, I think the windows are um, bulletproof or something..." she looks towards the commotion outside, sinking down into her seat. "He said that um...that h-...he wouldn't c-come around right now and um..." Delilah trails off, looking back over. You can't imagine it being easy to be trapped in here with the smell, and as she moves towards you prepare to keep her away.

"You look tired, let me do it..." she mumbles, reaching for your shoulder. When you refuse to give it up she starts biting on her lip hard. "I p-promise I'm not going to go crazy, I can't...I can't even think about doing that right now, I..." She moves quicker than you're prepared for, but she just hugs you while ignoring any of the blood that might get on her.

"I don't want you to be hurt like this," Delilah cries, "You have to be okay, you have to be." Even if she's terrified right now, there's something comforting about her right now. If you were in the position to you'd hug her back as comfort, feeling your heart finally beginning to calm down. The faint scent of something sweet fights the smell of your wound, and compared to earlier it feels like things might be alright.

"You can't die..." she whimpers, "I n-need you and I love you a-and..." Delilah pauses, trying not to cry too much.

>Let her help you
>Tell her that you're going to be okay
>Ask her to sit in the front seat for now, to be safe
>Tell her that you're going to be okay
>Pat pat
"Going be...fine." You really didn't believe that earlier, but right now things feel more at peace. It doesn't take much to put up a grin, but you do have to hide the flinch of pain as you lift up your arm. Delilah tries to hide it, but she becomes placid as you pat and run through her dark hair.

"Okay. I'll make sure we drive super fast. We can run through the red lights if we have to, it'll be fine!" There's no doubt right now that Delilah will keep this promise, and she grudgingly returns to the seat across from you. She starts to rub over her forehead, over hand coming up to cover her face. "That thing earlier hurt my ears really bad... they're still ringing." She doesn't want to bring up the smell inside the car right now, but it can't be helping the pain in her head.

Delilah keeps watch on what's going on outside, and you try to do the same. If it didn't hurt so bad you might have fallen asleep, but Delilah is sure to call you back to attention if your eyes happen to stay close for a bit longer than usual. Crockett and Lang return a few minutes after, another woman following. When he waves at her through the window, Delilah scurries up to unlock the doors. You notice that the woman is patting down Lang, checking for any hidden away weapons. Both have dark hair kept up and out of their faces, but you can see now that the other woman is a handful of years older, closer to Crockett's age.

Lang takes the front seat, the woman getting behind the wheel as Crockett joins Delilah in the backseat.

"He been holding up okay?" he asks, Delilah nodding while keeping her nose covered. Leaning back to look at the driver, Crockett asks, "Hey Lieutenant, got a spare rag I could borrow?"

"Not unless you're willing to drop the cheeky attitude." She passes back a fresh one from the glove box, and it quickly becomes a breathing filter for Delilah.

"Office Palmer it is then."

"Sybil is fine, and you know that." She looks back, nodding to you and Delilah as she pulls out onto the street. "Sorry we couldn't have met under better conditions. My name is Sybil Palmer, I'm a friend of Ace here."

"She'll be our chauffeur for the time being. Speaking of which, know where you're going?" As the car bumbles along down the road slowly, he takes the chance to check the progress of your wound.

"Lang here gave me an address, gonna help direct me to her uncle from up here." Palmer drives away from the mess left at your home.

"My...parents?" you ask, wishing you had something to drink right now.
"They're being taken care of, don't worry. Had to explain to your mom how I wasn't trying to snatch up Delilah earlier. Well, guess I sorta was, but you get what I mean. Neither of them could hear me try to explain that I was their escort for today." As Palmer explains this Delilah looks embarrassed, remembering how she had fought her earlier. "And your dad seemed to be needing some help, but trust me, he's in better condition than you right now. He'll get patched up and they'll get taken to one of our safe spots nearby, you can meet up with them later."

"Sorry for running off like that..." Delilah apologizes quietly.

"You're a fighter, that's good. Better safe than sorry, not to mention Mrs. Talbot put up a good fight on her own. Was pretty impressed, to be honest." Palmer continues talking as Crockett looks over your shoulder, kneeling down in front of you. "Should've asked before we headed out, but you needed anything Lang?"

"Might have been nice to ask when you were patting me down..." she grumbles, "Sooner we get there the better. I feel sick to my stomach."

"Working on it. You got a first name, Lang?"

"That's it. Easier for people to say that instead of Phùng."

During their conversation, Crockett leans in close to whisper to you. "Normally, I'd start grilling her for what she knows here, but I dunno with Del around. Would save us time, and she really wants to be let free where ever we're going... but I don't mind bringing her with us after. Know she's going to hate it though."

>Ask all the questions now, leave Lang at her uncle's
>Wait till her uncle's
>Bring her with after you get patched up
>Ask her some questions now, save the harder stuff for when we're at her uncle
Would be nice to know how they thought to target our parents, we lost them at the factory. Just some easy questions to clear up things without disturbing Del too much.

We probably should leave her at her uncle's, too. It's one thing to claim we're nicer than Bower and his goons, it's something else to show it.
New thread is all ready to go up, once the site stops being broken
New Thread


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.