>>1943647
>>The Puppet

>>1943647
I'll worry about a trip later

>>1943647
>The Outsider

>>1943650
>>1943669
5 more minutes, then I'll roll it

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>1943650
>>1943669

>>1943685
Terua Fujit. Not many from the outer villages come to the Tower. Few agree with shackling digimon to such a degree, and even fewer survive the dangers of travel without Tower-issued weaponry. You're tougher than most, and even you needed the Tower Guards to bail you out as a yanmamon caught your scent at the Tower's border. As for digimon rights, you've got rather more pressing needs at the moment.

'You'll find that I have many more practical skills than your average cadet, sir.'

The wizardmon eyes you carefully. 'Quite. That spearhead hidden in your pack would be a fine weapon in trained hands. What sort of monster could destroy a weapon reinforced with Holy Code?' When you answer with silence, he waves off and goes through the rest of your files.

'I'll be blunt: you could be a spy. I'm assigning you to Black Sword. They'll keep an eye on you, and they'll appreciate cadets who can put up a fight anyway.' He hands you your documents back, along with a provisional ID and a map. 'Head to Black Sword HQ to receive your standard Digi-beetle and training. I suggest you hurry, but I expect you're going to get rather "lost" in the Tower? Just keep yourself out of trouble.'

Passing through the checkpoint and down the elevator of Central Admin, you consider your options.

>Head straight to Black Sword HQ. You need power, and you need it before it's too late.
>There's more than one way to get weapons. See if you can find a black market shop first. Even if you mess up, marks on your provisional ID are unlikely to end up on permanent record.
>Visit the other HQs. You need information, and you don't care about the little faction politics going on between the Guard Teams.
>Write-in

File: Datastore.jpg (202 KB, 1024x700)

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>>1943730
whoops, pic

>>1943730
>>Head straight to Black Sword HQ. You need power, and you need it before it's too late.

>>1943730
>>Head straight to Black Sword HQ. You need power, and you need it before it's too late.

File: Lab Catacomb.jpg (416 KB, 1024x700)

416 KB JPG

>>1943732
>>1943734
You follow a maze of trams and main roads lit up by bulletin boards displaying the current news. It's the usual, stable weather, rise in digimon attacks, protests for digimon rights, and a new sale on digi-shrooms. Nothing on the seemingly endless cloud of mist that descended on your village a week ago, nor signs of a mysterious digimon.

Black Sword HQ is a rather non-descript building. It's out of the way and surrounded by warehouses, empty streets, and meat farms. Far too small to hold an entire organization, you're almost certain there's an underground base as you enter and meet your fellow applicants.

"Black Sword HQ" looks like any old warehouse on the inside. There's 2 others, holding documents much like yourself, and beyond that you couldn't bring yourself to care. There didn't seem to be anyone around, so you busied yourself searching for some hidden switch or entrance.

You don't get very far when the entire building's floor opens up like a trapped door.

'What the!?' 'Cital, what's happe-'

You land on wooden crates. Around you appears to be a direlict lab. The lighting is dim and you hear a faint buzzing, the telltale sign of digimon that aren't intelligent enough to hide their presence. Or simply don't care to.

>A test? Rush through now, maybe you'll top it.
>Check on the other two. For all you know, they could be your instructors.
>What if this isn't a test? You need to get up and out of here.
>Write-in

>>1943787
>>Check on the other two. For all you know, they could be your instructors.

>>1943787
>>Check on the other two. For all you know, they could be your instructors.

>>1943787
>>Check on the other two. For all you know, they could be your instructors.

File: Cital.png (848 KB, 500x693)

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>>1943791
>>1943794
'Are you two alright?' Kicking pieces of wood away, you see them in a jumbled mess. The boy had softened the fall for the girl, who is blushing furiously. They're both wearing standard applicant uniforms, wheras you only had time to sling the applicant jacket over your loose shirt and threadbare jeans.

'We're fine. I guess you're an applicant too? I'm Cital, and this young lady here is Wynn.' You don't believe a single thing he's said.

'Y-yes, we arrived not long before you. It looks like it's just us three applicants here. Is it a test?' Actors. Or maybe spies? Soon as you turn your back, they'll stab you and nip a potential enemy at the bud.

The buzzing is slowly getting louder. Something's coming, but you're not sure from where. The other two are acting like they haven't noticed.

'What do we do now?'

>Take charge. You need to get a move on.
>Let them work it out, you need to keep an eye on them
>Question them about [thing]
>Write-in

>>1943864
>>Take charge. You need to get a move on.

>>1943864
Fuck you thief.

>>1943864
>Take charge. You need to get a move on.

>>1943893
im not fake shutup

>>1943876
>>1943894
Support. Seems like trouble is brewing. They can sort it out later.

>>1943893
>>1943893
Who are you talking to? Why are you talking to yourself?

>>1943864
>>Take charge. You need to get a move on.

File: Cyclomon.jpg (82 KB, 320x320)

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>>1943876
>>1943894
>>1943916
>>1943923

'We need to go, follow me.' Walking on ahead, it doesn't take them long for them to follow.

Broken glass cylinders of massive size line this hall, barely functional lights casting large swathes of darkness on their sides. Fallen cables from above indicate some kind of rafters, but you're not too keen on testing your weight on them.

It's not long before they speak up, but you shush them and hide between two cylinders. Coming around the corner is a massive yellow beast, red claws extending from an unnatural right arm. It doesn't see you. It sees the other two.

....oh. Shit. Your spearhead is still in your bag.

The beast growls softly, challenging the trespassers to his domain.


>>You are in [STEALTH]. Cital and Wynn are in [FUCKEDPANIC]
>>You have 4 actions. Actions are anything that takes an amount of narrative time to do, anything from moving to slashing to shoot+reload to taking something out. You can aim for specific body parts and the like, or make use of terrain.

>Plan out a course of action
>You can list individual actions, or just general directions you want to take the fight.

>>1943948
1. Get your spearhead out of your bag
2. Creep up on the Cyclo while it's distracted
3. Plunge the spearhead into the back of it's hindleg's knee
4. Retreat and return to stealth if possible. If not just grab the other two and fucking run.

>>1943961

For

>>1943961
>>1943964
Gonna need 4 rolls of 3d10, please

Rolled 10, 1, 4, 4, 8, 1, 10, 1, 5, 8, 9, 2 = 63 (12d10)

>>1943948

Rolled 2, 7, 2 = 11 (3d10)

>>1943999

Rolled 4, 3, 10 = 17 (3d10)

>>1943999
that is, 4 POSTS of 3d10, like this

Rolled 2, 7, 3 = 12 (3d10)

>>1943999

Rolled 8, 8, 7 = 23 (3d10)

File: Wynn.png (275 KB, 1000x1200)

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>>1944005
>>1944011
>>1944018
>>1944022
>11, 17, 12, 23
>Fail
>17-15=Pass(+2)
>12+2-13=Pass(+1)
>23+1-10=Pass

You set your bag down as quietly as possible and pull out the spearhead just a little too quickly as it scrapes across your empty jar of preserves. The Cyclomon turns in your direction as Cital shouts for you to get out of the way.

You're much too fast, though. You're down and under his backside before its tail can come down, and wrench the blade into the leg. White digi-runes materialize as the Holy Aura destabilizes the leg from the knee down. It's a simple matter to slide under the falling mass and grab your fellow rookies.

In your haste, you failed to notice the rather large gun in Wynn's hands as it veers far off course, a searing beam cutting swaths of cables. The darkness only eases your escape behind the Cyclomon and around the corner.

You were absolutely right. There is no WAY that gun is standard issue, even for someone already in a Guard Team. The once silent corridor comes alight with alarms begin blaring about structural integrity. You slam into a dead-end, blast doors locked with some kind of keycard. The room itself looks like some sort of reception area, with file cabinets and a central counter.

Red claws grip the far wall, as Wynn raises her gun again.

>Plan of Action

>>1944126
Have Cital search for a keycard in the reception desk. Wynn should brace her gun on the counter and open up when she has a clear shot. MC does another hit and run using Wynn's gun as a distraction.

>>1944143
>Give orders
>Run
>Attack

need 3 posts of 3d10

Rolled 5, 5, 1 = 11 (3d10)

>>1944178

>>1944126
>>1944143
I'm seeing it the other way. We're mobile, and have a weapon that can injure, if not easily kill, the Cyclomon. Meanwhile, Wynn has a hard-hitting weapon capable of structurally compromising the corridor, but likely can't use it effectively while moving due to its bulk.

Therefore, we ought to try to keep the Cyclomon distracted and in roughly the same spot for as long as possible, while Wynn fires on it when she sees an opening. With any luck, she's a decent shot and won't hit us while aiming for a far larger target.

We have no idea what Cital can do, and should ask him this. Then, we can have him either support us, protect Wynn, or lay down additional fire as fits his abilities.

Rolled 2, 6, 8 = 16 (3d10)

>>1944178

Rolled 9, 4, 1 = 14 (3d10)

>>1944178
>>1944143
I'm agreeing with this.

File: HQ.jpg (165 KB, 464x238)

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>>1944188
sorry, I'm.....losing steam....

functionally, you're asking to do the same thing anyway.


You give the orders out. Cital shakes himself to focus and searches the desk. You're already sprinting when Wynn fires another beam down range, far too early to hit anything useful. Is she trying to get you killed in an "accident"?

Brown Horn and blue eyes peek out as you hug the wall at the click of the trigger. For a shot that never comes.

Wynn is just standing there, eyes blank, as the gun remains inert. Unable to stop your forward momentum, you put more speed and hope for the best. Your eyes face forward to an opponent who is....cowering on the floor?

The blast doors open as Cital slams the card into the slot. Many voices can be heard within.

'-do you mean, "you thought we could handle it"!? He almost killed Sykes, you damn pointy hat! And what the HELL is up with that gun? Where did that girl come from!?'

>that's all for now. I've been awake for FAR too long.

I did this spur of the moment, and unfortunately this isn't something I can keep doing right now.

If you guys are still interested, I'll be back.....a little before November.