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The curtain is flung aside and the tall middle aged woman who serves as Edgewood's doctor looks down at you through thin spectacle lenses. "He did not!" she proclaims loudly. "What happened is that you collapsed and were responsive only in the manner of a feverish lunatic, speaking of shadows and wet crawling things and rabbits." Doctor Rikandra glares at you and gestures Shauna out of her stool. Shauna meekly obeys and stands at the foot of your bed as the doctor hands you a large plastic tumbler with a beige colored paste in it. "They wanted to put you in a hospital, but they took you to me first, which is fortunate for you, because those quacks at the hospital would not have known what to do for you. Drink!" she commands abruptly, thrusting the tumbler at you.

Shauna shudders as you sigh and take the tumbler of what is undoubtedly a puree of liver, kidney, spinach, carrots, and a half-dozen vitamin and mineral supplements that would make anyone else horribly sick in a few sips. "No one has seen Jake since that night," Shauna murmurs softly, only to receive a glare from the doctor.

"One kiss goodbye, which I will not see, then you go to the schoolroom! You are late, for class!" The doctor sweep out of the room, yanking the curtain shut behind her.

Shauna giggles at the doctor's theatrics and you set the tumbler on the end-table next to the bed. She sits on the edge of your bed and looks at you, her expression slowly fading from amusement and warmth to a mask of gentle worry. "You scared us, Hekah, getting sick like that." You're kind of at a loss for words - you've never been sick.

[] I'm sorry, it won't happen again.
[] It wasn't my fault, it was....it was something that happened.
[] I know what really caused it, and I'm going to make sure it doesn't get the chance again.
[] Write in:

>>1957200
>[] I know what really caused it, and I'm going to make sure it doesn't get the chance again.
>Though I guess I need to make sure I'm ready for it first.

I hope the fires are staying away from where you are

>>1957267
Fires yes, smoke no.

>>1957200
>[] I know what really caused it, and I'm going to make sure it doesn't get the chance again.

>>1957200
>[x] I know what really caused it, and I'm going to make sure it doesn't get the chance again.

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[X] I know what really caused it, and I'm going to make sure it doesn't get the chance again.
[X] Write in: But I'll need to make sure I'm prepared this time.

"It wasn't anything natural. It was a thing." When you lean over she does so as well and your foreheads touch. you reach up and run your fingers through her short, straight hair, entirely the opposite of your wild mop of black hair. Her's is silky-soft and warm, yours is cool and wiry (in a pretty matter-of-fact way). You lookn up and meet her soft, worried gaze. "I'm going to make sure it never gets the chance again."

"Was it the thing that attacked Beth?"

looking down you murmur a soft 'no'. "But I can find that thing. There's more than one. I'm gonna get them all. But not right now." She relaxes, your declaration of war having scared her a little. "I'm gonna make sure I'm ready for them."

"Okay. But....get better first? Okay?" You nod, and Shauna turns her head slightly and kisses you, tasting of violets and cherries. "Shaun was worried, but he won't say so," she murmurs as she pulls away.

You smile and then you both jump as the curtain explodes out of the way. "Now! Off to class, you! You, drink!" shauna gives you one last glance, worry still write large across her pixie face, and slips away. The doctor follows her and then shuts the door behind her, rounding on you with a fierce glare.

[] I'm drinking, I'm drinking!
[] ....so, what do you think of what you heard?
[] Why did i get sick? I never get sick!
[] Write in?

>>1957338
>[] I'm drinking, I'm drinking!
>[] Why did i get sick? I never get sick!
>...Was it because I've also never gone into a sewer before?

>>1957338
>[x] I'm drinking, I'm drinking!
>[x] Write in: Say doc, have you seen this symptom in the past?
She might know more than she lets on given her confidence with the treatment.

>>1957338
>>1957338
>[] I'm drinking, I'm drinking!
>[] Why did i get sick? I never get sick

>>1957338
>[] I'm drinking, I'm drinking!
>"Why wouldn't the 'quacks at the hospital' have known what to do with me?"
>"What happened to Jake?"

>>1957373
If the last thread is any indication, I think the MC has a fair idea why normal doctors would be confused though that doesn't mean it can't be surprising to see someone else bring it up.

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[X] Why did I get sick? I never get sick!
[X] I'm drinking, I'm drinking!
[X] Write in? "Sure I was in a sewer, but still! Have you ever seen anything like this?"

You grab the tumbler in a half-panic and start sucking on the oversized straw. The instant the slurry hits your mouth your stomach cramps up, desperate for the nutrition in the more-than-protein hell-shake. You greedily drain about a third of it before you stop, your stomach demanding more but your lungs preferring that you do not pass out from oxygen deprivation.

Dr. Rikandra sits on the stool and crosses her legs, gazing at you calmly from her round spectacles. "You don't eat enough meats. Double portions for your breakfast and dinners, for a week. You'll get a scrip." Helplessly you nod; the doctor is one of the few people you have learned never to cross, because she will think nothing of storming into the cafeteria and loudly berating the staff, you, everyone around you, and people you've never met for disobeying her directives.

"Did you learn something about me? Something new?" Doctor Rikandra has been at Edgewood longer than you have, and she's seen a few strange children. No one like you, at least that you know of. "Something the doctors at the hospital wouldn't know?"

The doctor crosses her legs and looks at you seriously. "You always need more liver, more kidney. You don't get enough minerals and iron, you get weak, your body gets soft. Not good for you, you hurt yourself. Something new? Yes, a little. Nothing you like, no. But I tell you, maybe." You don't press, not immediately; nothing shuts her up faster. You know she cares, and not just about you. She finds injury and disease offensive, and she hates illness with a passion that most people reserve for their first love or their worst enemy.

Drinking the shake a little more slowly despite the demands of your stomach, you hesitate and then tell her softly, "I don't get sick." Her mouth becomes a hard line, and she looks at you with those dark eyes of hers. "It's true. I've never been sick. why did I get sick this time? Just because I was in the sewers?" Her expression eases a little, a faint but unmistakable look of concern, but not for you. "You've seen this before? Some kind of symptom?"

She frowns and gestures for you to keep drinking, which you obediently do since she seems like she might be more forthcoming than usual. "It's not good for her, this thing you have for her." You blink and then realize she's talking about Shauna. "Her, and her brother, yes? You and them both?"

[] Just nod.
[] ....it's none of your business, doc.
[] You know something; changing the subject won't help.
[] Quid pro quo, like that Lecter guy?
[] Write in?

>>1957393
>[] Quid pro quo, like that Lecter guy?
For some reason I'm thinking Hag for our MC's ancestry but that seems more DnD than Urban Fantasy.

>>1957373
>What happened to Jake?
Noted for a later post.

>>1957393
>[x] Quid pro quo, like that Lecter guy?

>>1957393
>Doc, are you not interested in the 10 damn THINGS hiding just under the orphanage?

>>1957393
>[] Quid pro quo, like that Lecter guy?

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[X] Quid pro quo, like that Lecter guy?
[X] Write in? What happened to Jake? Do you want to know what's in the damn basement?!

Narrowing your eyes at the doctor you bite back an angry retort that they don't have anything to do with this, that there are things, in the basement. You unclench your hand from the bedding, and start to set the shake down, but your stomach growls. Doctor Rikandra doesn't say anything, but looks satisfied when you finish the thick sludge. "Quid pro quo, doctor," you say to her, and she looks confused for only a few seconds before she gives you a wry smile. "You tell me things, I tell you things."

"Yes, okay. Only for a little while. You need rest." Reluctantly you nod. "So, I tell you something. Sticky stuff all over you when they brought you in. Thomas carried you. It was decayed body."

"You mean like zombies?" Your skin crawls and you suppress a shudder.

"No, not rot-ting, rot-ted. Long past rot, just what is left after, mostly chemicals, not flesh." She crosses her legs, and rests one hand on her knee. "Like what is in the grave after formaldehyde is done." The doctor looks at you seriously. "You don't get sick, no, not natural disease or sick. But not-natural disease or sick, you get that, yes. Can even kill you, you get it bad enough." You swallow slowly and Doctor Rikandra nods. "so, you be more careful, you pick fights with weird things."

"So you do know what's in the basement!" you accuse, and the flash of anger in her eyes is almost enough to make you flinch.

"Suspect only! No proofs - you have no proof either! Just what you say!" she takes a deep breath and counts to ten - you can almost hear her doing it. "What I think? Something bad comes around this place. Faery, ghost, haunt, monster? I don't know. Plenty of monsters here walk around all day."

"Like Jake. What happened to Jake?"

"Not the game, Hekah!" Taking control of your temper you nod. "So, you and the girl and the boy, the bother and sister."

You look at her seriously. "It's because I'm a narcissist." She raises her eyebrows. "Well, it's obvious right? Short black hair, pale skin? Kind of hard not to see the resemblance."

"But not that, you think." Her voice is soft, solicitous.

Shaking your head you look down at the bedding. "No. I mean....the shrink said that they're just using me as a way to satisfy their lust for each other, but he's the same guy who called me a narcissist."

Doctor Rikandra snorts her derision. "That man, he's not even doctor, just pill pushing. Likes to think he's a psychologist." Leaning forward slightly, lowering her voice. "They fill holes in your heart. Make you feel better, like no pieces are missing."

You give her a half annoyed, half confused look.

[] Ask about Jake.
[] Ask why she thinks that.
[] Ask about what she thinks are in the basement.
[] Write in:

>>1957485
>Even if you're right, why isn't that a good thing? Isn't that why people lo- like each other?
>[] Ask about what she thinks are in the basement.
Or specifically what would repel/destroy them, the other stuff isn't super important.

>>1957485
>Even if you're right, why isn't that a good thing? Isn't that why people lo- like each other?
>[] Ask about what she thinks are in the basement.

>>1957485
>[x] Ask why she thinks that.

>>1957485
>[] Ask why she thinks that.
>[] Ask about Jake.

>>1957485
>And you think it's the same for them? If you think it's bad, what do you want to do about it?
>They sneak into children's beds and do god knows what to them, I'm not leaving them alive.

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[X] Ask about what she thinks are in the basement.
[X] Write in: Why is it not a good thing? Isn't that why people....like each other? What do you want to do about it?

Your relationship with Shaun and Shauna isn't that terribly complex on the inside. Sure, it looks like a recipe for disaster on the outside, and it's definitely not a normal relationship, but it works for all three of you, for a number of reasons. Not the least of which is because of how they feel about you and how you feel about them. So it is while trying to ignore the rising heat along your cheeks and ears that you reply. "Isn't that what they say it's supposed to be like? When people....when people like one another? How is it a bad thing for me to like her that way? You're not judging me for that kind of relationship, are you?"

"Ha! As if. No." She leans back and it takes you a moment to realize she's not going to say any more at the moment.

"Fine. What are the things in the basement?!"

"Don't know." You take a deep breath but she's already patting the air, frowning at you as she gestures for you to calm down. "Ideas, yeah. Especially with you being sick. Vampire, probably. Not going to be much else." You open your mouth to ask the obvious question but she frowns even harder. "Bah, stupid people think they're pretty girls, handsome men. Drinking blood, charming, sexiness, perfect men and women. Stupid." Rikandra stands up and walks to the window, leaning against it and looking down at the sunlit courtyard.

"Not vampire like that. Old vampire. Real vampire. Not drinking blood or even hurting people. Just....they die. sicken. Tired. Like a disease. Except they are the disease. The sickening that makes people die. Dead past dead, rotted and gone, but still here. Stand over your bed, look at you. You sicken, get weaker and weaker. Die." She turns and places her back against the wall. "Don't look at the silly books stories. Look at the older stories, the real ones. Don't know if you can kill it. Not with your nails, yeah?"

You look at your thick, hard nails. "Yeah. But that isn't gonna stop me from killing the fuck out of them for hurting my kids."

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"Mmh." She looks at you a long moment, and it starts to make you nervous. "You feel alone sometimes."

Trying to ignore the way her statements seem to make your hair try and stand on end you nod. "Wouldn't you?"

She nods absently and walks over to the counter and opens a drawer, pulling out a pack of dark cigarettes. You can't help but stare as she lights one up, and puffs on it, filling the room with the scent of cloves. "You ever think strange things about the little ones? Bethy, Leanne, Courtney, Bobby? Bad things?"

"No." She looks at you as though she expects your lying and you glare at her, really glare at her. "I'm not like that. They're good kids, my kids. I'd never." She looks almost confused, and then understanding lights her dark eyes.

"No, non, not that way. Eh, maybe that way. But no. I meant, hungry thinking. Like food." You stare at her, and you remember how you felt while chasing that whatever it was down into the basement. That hunger. But it wasn't for children.

[] Are fucking joking? I will cut you, bitch!
[] ....no. Now explain the fuck out of that.
[] Why the bloody fuck would you ask that. Just....why.
[] No, not really.
[] What if I did?
[] What exactly are you getting at? What does this have to do with Shaun and Shauna? What's with all the beating around the bush?
[] Write in?

>>1957563
>[] What exactly are you getting at? What does this have to do with Shaun and Shauna? What's with all the beating around the bush?
What do you think guys, wait until she answers us before we tell her we felt compelled to eat the vampire?

What's up with that anyway, considering we're not even immune to the disease it carries?

>>1957563
>No, that's disgusting!
>[] Why the bloody fuck would you ask that. Just....why.

>>1957563
>[] What exactly are you getting at? What does this have to do with Shaun and Shauna? What's with all the beating around the bush?

>>1957586
>>1957563

On the one hand, we heard that the doctor doesn't respond well to being pressed, on the other that feels like an outrageous accusation. So I feel like maybe add in
>[] ....no. Now explain the fuck out of that.

>>1957586
I say at least hold off until she's given us something to work with. I think Hekah herself needs some time to process that hunger.

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[X] What exactly are you getting at? What does this have to do with Shaun and Shauna? What's with all the beating around the bush?
[X] Write in: Disgusting! No! What the hell, lady?!

"That's disgusting! and not just bad taste disgusting, I mean....g-gah....damn!" She looks interested when you can't finish swearing but doesn't seem perturbed by your diatribe either. "Why would you even....how could you even think that!? Have you not been paying the fu-" Doctor Rikandra gets a steely glint in her eyes. "....have you not been paying attention? I love them! How could you even saythat!?"

She takes a slow drag of the clove cigarette and allows the smoke to drift from her mouth and inhales it through her nose slowly, looking at the linoleum flooring. "That is good. Hags sometimes eat them, you know?"

You stare at her. "You're saying I'm part hag? Like in D&D?"

"Dee and....what? No. No! All this....ugh." Stubbing out the cigarette on the counter and leaving the half crushed remnant there, she walks around the bed, sitting where Shauna had sat. "Listen." You glare at her and she glares back and pokes you in the forehead, which does little other than get your attention. "Listen! Not storybooks! Not movies! Jennie Greenteeth! Nellie Longarms! Baba Yaga, Cailleach, Peg Powler! Digde, Milucra, Bakhtak!" She takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. "Not just evil witches - divine creatures, faery ladies and powers! Russia never dies with Baba Yaga. Cailleach foretells winter, coming of spring, a goddess, not just a hag."

"But I'm not ugly," you almost whisper, your emotions a churning cauldron.

Doctor Rikandra takes you by the shoulders. "No, not them either, not all the time. Cailleach has seven youthful times, gave birth to tribes of people, her husbands all dead of old age. Hag is a blight on land, hero goes to meet her, loves her, she is a beautiful goddess! Not just evil witches, but kind goddesses, cruel too! Hunters of children, protectors of children. Not alone either - sisters, triplets often." She shakes you gently. "You see?" she looks into your eyes, hers filled with compassion but her expression stern. "You see?"

[] ....I see....
[] No, I don't understand at all!
[] I don't care about any of that. I care about Shaun and Shauna and my kids and my cats!
[] Write in:

>>1957668
>[] I don't care about any of that. I care about Shaun and Shauna and my kids and my cats!

>>1957668
>You're saying I probably have two sisters somewhere? Wait, you don't mean them do you?
>[] I don't care about any of that. I care about Shaun and Shauna and my kids and my cats!
>...But you're saying the reason I feel that way is because I'm a hag?
>Also since you explained this to me, I'll tell you that the vampire made me hungry, even though I'm apparently not immune to them at all?

Also huh I was right, though the bigger mystery is when Hekah had time to learn about D&D

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[X] I don't care about any of that. I care about Shaun and Shauna and my kids and my cats!
[X] Write in: Is this because I'm a hag, that I feel these things? That I have sisters out there? And why did I want to eat the vampire?

It's hard to define what your feelings are at the moment. You're torn about a lot of things, and what she's saying makes some weird kind of sense, but it also doesn't make any sense at all. You're still sure about one thing though.

"I don't CARE about any of that! I feel these things because I'm a hag, not because I'm part something else? Shaun and Shauna are just replacements for sisters I don't even know about? I want to eat something that makes me deathly ill?" She looks a little surprised by that but she doesn't seem particularly shocked or horrified. Which is kind of upsetting. "I don't know about all that stuff! I just want to take care of my cats, and my kids, and to have Shaun and Shauna close to me! I love them! They're all mine, and I don't want to hurt any of them!" Your eyes are on fire and you rub at them fiercely.

Your hands come away wet.

Slender arms wrap around you. "That's good. You're a good girl." Doctor Rikandra hugs you and you sniffle, rubbing your eyes with one hand. You're not quite crying, but your closer than....than....well, ever. You don't recall ever crying. "I don't have much more to tell you. I am just guessing now. I don't have answers. But you're not yet better. Still sick. So, you rest here. Your boy, he'll be home from work soon. I have him come here, give you a hug. Okay?"

You nod silently. "Good. Good girl. Rest. Drink one more of those, you feel much better, go and play in the courtyard." She gently pulls back and looks at you seriously. "your boy, he is a good boy. but still just a boy. Not a hero. So....be a good girl. You ask your friends about things. Maybe they help you better." She nods, and you nod back morosely. "All right. Rest now."

Pulling the covers up, you turn on your side as she starts to pull the curtains. "What happened to Jake?"

Doctor Rikandra looks at you and considers carefully. You're not quite sure what she's thinking as she replies. "Suspension, sent home. A week, maybe fired. Thomas says maybe he saw you get pushed, maybe by Jake. All questions, no answers. not yet." She closes the curtains, and you think perhaps you might just have to find out where Mr. Jake lives.

And maybe have a talk with him.

>To Be Continued....

Thank you for reading and playing.

We will continue tomorrow night, near midnight, same thread.

>>1957760
Thanks for the thread. I'm a sucker for this emotional shit.

>>1957760
So uh, Doctor Rikandra. Is her native language Fae or something? She would make 20% more sense with proper grammar. Not a lot, but every bit counts.

>>1957826
It's Farsi, actually. It gets worse when she's emotional.

>>1957760
Oh good, I didn't miss too much when I dozed off. Thanks for running!

>>1957832
Oh right, I had a question about how the Curse Word ability would have worked, because I can think of two very common curses that are considered really mild in today's secular world, but could be very potent if taken literally.
>Go to Hell
>God Damn You
Would those have done nothing due to those areas far exceeding Hekah's reach or something (

>>1958138
Oh no. They would work exactly as they are pronounced. However, the effects would not be literal.

"Go to Hell."
Eventually, though happenstance, situations, and sheer bad luck, the person would end up in their own personal hell on eart. A happy go lucky, carefree individual with wealth will find themselves saddles with children, possibly a wife he cannot stand, deep in debt, and crushed under personal responsibilities that he cannot evade or escape. A stingy, selfish person with a high opinion of themselves will find themselves wealthy and seemingly without burden....except they cannot keep any of the wealth, but must use it constantly for the benefit of others, like receiving a very tightly controlled estate that they are cforced to hold in trust for a charity and they have specific, high value amounts they must constantly pay out; despite this no one thinks much of him, lookign at him as no more than a cog in the machine, a nobody whose only purpose is (and is in fact) only there to dole out money that isn't really his. Personal hells that consume the victim of the curse.

"God Damn You."
AKA atheitst worst nightmare. The belief structure of the person is irrelevant - or particularly relevant. If used by the curse-er, they can chose the nature and type of god that afflicts the victim, as long as they believe; otherwise, the victims own belief structure provides the damnation in question. An agnost would have proof given to them, and an athetist would as well. A Christian would be forsaken by the Lord. Interestingly, this is one of the easier curses to mitigate or end, but appeasing the god, getting another deity to intervene, or by changing one's own belief structure and atoning or accepting it as their just dues.

Curses was exceedingly powerful, and laso exceedingly dangerous to Hekah; she would have the advantage of being able to mitigate curses laid upon her by others more easily, since it is her own power and because sh would have had some experience. The largest advantage is that most people would have been unaware that it works both ways. Those who deal with the fae and true witches would not have that issue, of course - they would be perfectly aware that it could become a very volatile series of back-and-forth curses.

>>1959317
Oh still really potent huh? Ah well, I'm pretty happy with Hekah's current build and it's what I get for not looking for new/interesting quests at 3 AM.

>>1959381
There really isn't a 'bad build', just ones with bigger or smaller drawbacks which are proportionate to the power granted.

Curses was a very powerful ability with a very massive drawback - it's an always on ability that works against her as automatically (if not quite as effectively) as she could use it against others.

>>1959317
>An agnost would have proof given to them
I rather imagine they would find that a good thing.

>>1959974
Unless it's one of the shittier gods whose existence they have confirmed.

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True to her word, Doctor Rikandra delivers another 'protein shake' that no one in their right mind - or without the right physiology - would dare drink in another two hours. She does leave you to your own devices, which you kind of appreciate given that she's maight something of a mess of your world view. In the end, it doesn't really matter. You're still a kid, more or less, and you're still stuck with what you are and who you are, and you're not really a bad person as far as you know. Maybe a little vicious and weird, but not bad. Besides, she does care, even if it's in her own strange distant way.

At about 3:30 pm she gives you a packet of pills and a small box of protein powder to have with every meal for several days, as well as a ticket that allows you to have double portions of breakfast and dinner. She also tells you that you had better use them or she will be very annoyed at you, which is something you can live without, at least at this very second. "But, here is your boy, as promised, to take you to the courtyard. Get some sun. Talk with friends. Be a good girl."

Shaun, being 17 and a young man, has a job in what most of the children who live in Edgewood refer to as 'the real world'. He's clearly just come back from it, as he's wearing the khaki pants and dress shirt with the sky blue vest and name tag which proclaim he works for SuperbPets. His smile is warm and welcoming, and the laugh lines around his eyes crinkle happily seeing you on your feet (and properly dressed). The doctor makes herself conspicuously absent from the room to make up your bed, and you get to embrace him and receive a warm kiss tasting of grape soda and the delicate musk of a young man. He smells of a pleasantly spicy deodorant, and he has to bend down a little to kiss you properly, being he's about six inches taller than you.

After a firm and loud 'go away!' from the doctor, you both take your leave, and he looks at you, perfectly happy to let you choose where you want to go, as opposed to where the doctor told you to go.

[] It's Shaun time, go find a secluded spot in the building.
[] Shauna and the few people you consider friends are probably waiting in the courtyard.
[] Tell Shaun you have to take care of something, and go try and get Jake's home address.
[] Write in:

>>1960813
>[] Shauna and the few people you consider friends are probably waiting in the courtyard.
For a little while at least, let's reassure ourselves that we're part human as well.

>>1960813
>[x] Shauna and the few people you consider friends are probably waiting in the courtyard.

>>1960813
>[] Shauna and the few people you consider friends are probably waiting in the courtyard.

>>1960813
>[] Shauna and the few people you consider friends are probably waiting in the courtyard.

>>1960813
>[] Shauna and the few people you consider friends are probably waiting in the courtyard.
SHOPPING! For molotovs, tripwires, electric torches, and keychain alarms!

Well, that was somewhat unanimous.

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[X] Shauna and the few people you consider friends are probably waiting in the courtyard.

Taking Shaun's hand in yours (or rather, encouraging him to take your hand since his hand is much larger than yours for the most part) you walk towards the staircase that will lead to the interior halls that connect to the back yard, which is more of a courtyard since it is surrounded on three sides by buildings and the fourth is a chain-link fence. With barbed wire at the top, but it's facing out, not in. Deliveries to the kitchen are made there, and there is a tanbark box with some kiddy playthings and a geodesic dome. There is also a very large, very old oak tree with a raised retaining wall, and it is there you see Shauna, Bethany, Kit, and Lyrica.

Kit is fourteen, a mulatto who is pretty friendly, given that he's about as much of a flaming queer as it's possible to be. Chronic health issues concerning his badly damaged kidneys make him an undesirable prospect for adoption. Well, that and his propensity for suffering deep bouts of severe melancholia. He seems to be doing okay at the moment though, given he's smiling and talking with the others.

Lyrical (her actual name) is an albino, blue eyed, white skin, white hair. Her current makeup consists of SPF 2000, and a lot of hairspray. Seventeen as well, she doesn't have the part time job most of the other older kids have. She does have a job, and you suspect it has a lot to do with her very twisted relationship with someone on the outside. Lyrica suffers from borderline personality disorder, and you suspect that one day she's fall into actual psychopathy. She's a quintessential bad girl, and also prone to fits of violence that make yours seem tame if someone messes with something - or someone, though that doesn't include anyone here - as hers. You and she got off to a bad start, and she nearly beat you unconscious. The fact that she couldn't beat you unconscious and you didn't break any bones or cut her to ribbons apparently earned you her grudging but firm respect.

Shauna jumps up and takes several steps towards you, then stands and waits impatiently, bouncing on her toes and grinning like a madwoman. Kit makes a gagging gesture, finger in mouth, while Beth struggles to hide her giggles and Lyrica smirks at you. Ignoring them you slip free of Shaun and hug the pixie-twin, and she sighs happily. "Hey Kit, fuck you too."

"Like that'll happen!" he proclaims.

"Uh huh. Hey, lil' rabbit!" You give Bethany a hug and then look up at Lyrica. "Hey psycho. Thanks." You rub Beth's head and she closes her eyes and squishes up her face as you pet her head, looking adorable.

Lyrica's smirk grows wider. "No problem, freak." The exchange gives Bethany another case of the giggles.

[] Tell them what happened.
[] Ask about any nightmares.
[] Just relax for a little bit, normality is a rare thing.
[] Write in:

>>1960846
>[] Just relax for a little bit, normality is a rare thing.

>>1960846
>[] Just relax for a little bit, normality is a rare thing.
but if they feel like asking us about what happened then tell them as much of the truth as they can handle.

>>1960846
>[x] Just relax for a little bit, normality is a rare thing.

Frankly, I don't wish to inadvertently involve anyone else further. But as this guy says >>1960850 if we're the ones prompted, it's in their best interest to know what's up in order for them to able to watch out for themselves.

>>1960846
>>[] Just relax for a little bit, normality is a rare thing.
>but if they feel like asking us about what happened then tell them as much of the truth as they can handle.

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[X] Just relax for a little bit, normality is a rare thing.
[X] Write in: Unless someone asks anything, of course.

Sitting on the brickwork retaining wall, you pull Bethany into your lap and gently but firmly take her hands in yours, rubbing your thumbs along the backs of her knitted mittens. Rabbit motif, of course, cute little buttons on the back of her hand for eyes, and her fingers making a pair of ears. Shaun lightly ruffles his sister's perfect hair, making her blush becomingly, before offering a cigarette to Lyrica, who silently accepts. She lights hers with a very nice and very authentic Zippo, before lighting his, earning her a slightly jealous glance from both Shauna and Kit alike.

Bethany tries very hard to sit still for you, and you rest your chin on the top of her head. "He gets all the girls. And some of the guys," you complain to Beth, loudly enough for the others to hear.

"'Cause he looks like you," Beth says, and you look down at her.

"How do you figure that's the reason, rabbit?" Kit looks interested as well, while Shauna only nods knowingly.

"Because you're the best," she replies in utter seriousness, earning snorts of barely constrained laughter from Lyrica and warm chuckles from Shaun.

"Well, I suppose that settles it," you agree in a lightly mocking tone of voice she doesn't get, rolling your eyes dramatically for the benefit of the others. That earns you a light punch on the arm from a grinning Shauna. "Ow! she's abusing me Shaun!"

"You deserve it," he informs you, and you sigh dramatically.

"Speaking of abuse, the Bratz Pack is talking about you," Lyrica informs you between puffs of the noxious smoke.

"Oh joy," Kit complains. "What are they claiming now, that she huffed all their hairspray?" That makes Shauna and Beth giggle, while Lyrica smiles grimly.

You grimace, the thought of the self styled clique-in-command of Edgewood unimpressive at best. their hate is justly deserved; they know exactly who is in charge here, and it isn't the staff as far as the kids are concerned. "So what's their beef this time, that I lied about Jake and got him fired, so they don't get to play hide the sausage?" Bethany looks up at you, confused. "Means fucking, lil' rabbit," you explain and she nods sagely.

"They're claiming that you were the one who molested Bethany the other night when she screamed the walls down," Lyrica claims calmly, to the shock and disbelief of everyone.

"They what?!" Bethany tenses as your hands clench, though you let go of hers before that happens. Shauna lays a hand on your shoulder, but that doesn't stop the tendons and ligaments in your arms from popping and snapping.

Lyrica looks at you calmly, unconcerned by your rage. "Yeah, I told them that they'd better keep their traps shut if they didn't want to be catfood."

[] Excuse yourself, you need to go cut a bitch. not really though.
[] Fuck it, they're just looking for trouble.
[] Tell them what really woke her up.
[] Write in:

>>1960861
>[] Fuck it, they're just looking for trouble.
Though if they're dumb enough to say that to our face, that's another thing entirely.
>[] Tell them what really woke her up.
Or at least, ask what Bethany remembers, what they've heard, and if they really wanna know
>Speaking of Jake, I might have some unfinished business with that creep.

>>1960861
>[] Fuck it, they're just looking for trouble.
>We uh, have bigger fish to fry.

>>1960861
>[] Fuck it, they're just looking for trouble.

>>1960861
>[x] Write in: Maybe a few of our furrier feline friends should make it a habit to leave a hairball or two by their doors for the next few days.

Other than that, I agree with this >>1960864

>>1960861
>[] Tell them what really woke her up.

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[X] Tell them what really woke her up.
[X] Fuck it, they're just looking for trouble.
[X] Write in: There's other stuff that needs doing, like dealing with Jake and those other things....but maybe a visit from my friends will help.

It takes effort, but you calm down and Bethany relaxes in your lap, as your hands soften and pull hers from between her legs. Not that she was doing anything, but you try and encourage good habits as much as you can. You kiss the top of her head as you relax, and Shauna calms down some, though not as much as you'd like. Shaun looked about ready to go with you, though.

You catch sight of Maxwell, the old Manx tomcat, and your eyes meet. You stare at one another for a few seconds, and he saunters off, as if he were uninterested in the gangling apes. That's not what really happened, and you imagine the next few days are going to be very unhappy ones for the Bratz.

"Bethany, you didn't really say anything like that, did you?" Shauna's soft question is earnest and gentle, worried. Grinning, you tun your thumbs along the back of Beth's gloved hands and Lyrica looks interested. Shaun gives his sister a dark look, and she only glances up at him before turning her attention back to the twelve year old.

"Nah, Hekah won't do anything like that with me, even when I want her to," she states matter-of-factly, and you feel your ears and cheeks start to burn, while Kit falls over in peals of girlish laughter. Shauna looks shocked, her own cheeks starting to bloom crimson. Shaun actually face-palms and Lyrica's delicate white eyebrows shoot up nearly to her hairline.

"Gee, Bethany, tell us how you really feel," Shaun mutters.

She looks up at him in surprise, which you're pretty sure is genuine. "I did!"

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"No, I mean....agh. Whatever, you little nympho!" he says before reaching over and running her head affectionately, earning another cute squinch-face from her.

"Well, that aside, I gotta talk to Jake for reals, and there's....there's some other stuff. Like what really woke up my lil' rabbit." Kit's laughter subsides, and Lyrica looks interested again, which is kind of worrisome. Shaun and Shauna look at you expectantly though. "It was....was some thing, it looked like a melted person. Slimy. It was....it was licking her face." There's a chorus of 'eews' and 'yucks'. "I don't know what it was. I followed it into the basement, the drains, and there was a bunch of them there. I think that's....those are what's causing the nightmares everyone is having."

Shaun looks worried. "How many of them?" You're grateful for his unassailable belief in you.

"Ten, I think. I hurt one really bad, but they don't bleed or anything." Shauna shudders, and her brother nods. "Yeah, that crap on the blanket. Sorry." Stroking Bethany's hair to soothe her, you ask her what she had nightmares about.

"Don't wanna talk about it," she says in a small voice.

"You don't have to, lil' rabbit." Beth looks relieved and leans into you. "Hey Kit....you're pretty good with the internet. Can you look up some stuff on real vampire myths? Nothing like the books or the stupid shit, I mean the older ones, if you can?"

"Sure, Heks, I can do that."

"Shaun, Shauna....ask around about the ones who are having nightmares. I want to find out more about who or which and maybe why will follow from that." They nod, and everyone pretends not to notice how their hands slip into one another's.

"I got stuff to do," says Lyrica, as she stubs out her cigarette.

[] Follow Lyrical - you have a favor to ask about Molotovs and suchlike.
[] Take Bethany inside, and see if she'll talk to you by yourself.
[] Time to bite the bullet and see if you can find out Jake's home address.
[] Write in:

>>1960886
>[] Time to bite the bullet and see if you can find out Jake's home address.
Eh, I'm fine wating to press Bethany until we've run out of leads, I'm not sure what it would tell us that relates to killing them.

>>1960886
>[] Follow Lyrical - you have a favor to ask about Molotovs and suchlike.

>>1960886
>[] Follow Lyrical - you have a favor to ask about Molotovs and suchlike.

>>1960886
On one hand, gear prepping. But on the other hand, there's arming our self with knowledge first.

Fuck it. I'll take gear prepping. Dunno when those things might decide to visit again.

>[x] Follow Lyrical - you have a favor to ask about Molotovs and suchlike.
Preferably something less likely to cause collateral damage. Don't want to accidentally set the orphanage on fire after all.

>>1960894
Sewers are built out of stone. The only thing burning will be vampires, cloth, and sewage.

Of course, done poorly we're all gonna choke to death, but what's an adventure without a little danger?

>>1960886
>[] Time to bite the bullet and see if you can find out Jake's home address.

>>1960895
But aren't they also full of flammable gas?

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[X] Follow Lyrical - you have a favor to ask about Molotovs and suchlike.

You sweep Bethany into your arms, and she gives a joyful little squeal. Tossing her lightly, as if judging her weight, you give your boyfriend a look. Shaun quickly takes his hand back from his sister, who is watching you with bright, eyes filled with emotions to rich an nuanced to merely call love. Kit is grinning and even Lyrica manages a tiny smile as you toss Bethany to Shaun, who nearly staggers under her weight. "You be good, lil' rabbit! I'll catch you people on the flip side!"

"You are so not cool enough to use that phrase, Hekah!" Kit complains as he stands up.

You wink at him and hurry to catch up to Lyrica, whose long strides have already taken her a third of the way to the back entrance. "Hey, wait up." She slows, ignoring the looks you and she receive from a number of other kids and youths in the courtyard. "Can I ask a favor of you?"

She slows even further and gives you a speculative glance. "Maybe?"

"I need some gasoline." She looks at you in a condescending manner. "No, I mean gasoline, the stuff that makes cars go. Really, they named a drug that?"

"Oh, yeah. I thought you'd gone bonkers." Lyrica had mentioned that if she ever caught anyone trying to sell anything to you that she'd beat them bloody. Respect you, maybe, but she wouldn't trust you not to go crazy if you ever tried any drugs. It's not something you blame her for. "Molotovs?" You nod and she tucks her hands into her pockets, undoubtedly fondling the solid gold brass knuckle she carries in one pocket. That motherfucker hurt. "I can get you something better, but it'll cost you."

"Yeah?" you prompt dubiously.

"I got a party tonight. I need you to distract the orderly on duty at the desk so I can get out."

[] Yeah, no problem.
[] ....who is it?
[] I'm already in deep shit, Lyrica....is there anything else?
[] Write in:

>>1960901
A distinct possibility. Considering how big they are and how much airflow there would have to be to easily enter through just any old hole, it might not be a large enough concentration to create a true fireball.

And it's not like orphanage kids are going to know how safe it is.

>>1960904
>[] ....who is it?

>>1960904
>[] Yeah, no problem.
we can question the orderly on duty anyway.

....I was thinking more like alcohol, though. Gasoline would leave the sewers burning for...quite some time.

>>1960904
>[] ....who is it?

>>1960904
>[] ....who is it?

>>1960904
>[] ....who is it?

>>1960907
I don't see the problem with that. I'd want the vamps to burn for quite some time.

>>1960907
I was thinking something along the lines of chemical burns, but I'm not savvy enough on that front to get creative.

>>1960904
>[x] ....who is it?
It's gonna be Thomas, innit?

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[X] ....who is it?

Frowning, you glance sidelong at Lyrica, who has all the moral compunctions of a shark. "Who is it?"

"Judith."

"Shit. Not only the strictest woman in the building, but also the straightest."

She shoots you a quick grin. "Why do you think I could use your help?"

"....ugh. Fine. But it had better be worth it."

"Hekah!" You both turn as one of the orderlies walks alongside the building towards you both. Steve; he likes manhandling the kids. The way he slows when he sees it's not only you, but Lyrical as well, kind of hints that you're not the only person who has made him regret manhandling boys and girls that he didn't think could fight back. At least he's not a pervert - just abusive. "Sister Christine wants to see you in ehr office." You roll your eyes and he frowns. "Now."

"Yeah yeah. I'll go see her." Steve hesitates, then turns around and goes back to keeping the peace in the courtyard. Yeah, jail is probably a lot like this.

Lyrica continues walking with you as you enter the building. "That sucks. Yeah, I promise I'll take care of it. Just make sure I get out without getting caught. Getting back in is easy."

"Marvin?"

"Marvin."

You guess Marvin is getting lucky tonight. Which does bring up kind of a sore point, and since you both have places to be, you don't have to worry about getting into a drawn out argument over it. It is kind of personal though. On the other hand....well, you're not really sure you wouldn't have an issue with her being involved in some shady business with a slightly younger girl, even if it is outside of Edgewood.

[] Ask her about the rumor.
[] Don't ask her, just say goodbye.
[] Hint that you've heard something distasteful, but wouldn't be too bothered if it's true.
[] Write in?

>>1960919
which rumor is this?

>>1960919
>[] Hint that you've heard something distasteful, but wouldn't be too bothered if it's true.

>>1960919
>[x] Don't ask her, just say goodbye.

>>1960923
>her being involved in some shady business with a slightly younger girl
Lyrica is 17. 'Shady business' might be drugs or prostitution, in Hekah limited opinions.

>>1960919
>[] Don't ask her, just say goodbye.
I'm not sure we have the grounds to ask her about shady rumors after she defended us earlier.

>>1960919
>Tell her about the rumor, don't ask if it's true or not.

>>1960919

>>1960933
Oh I can get behind that, like maybe even ask her if she wants our help shutting people up as a way of returning the favor.

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[X] Write in: Tell her about the rumor, but don't ask if it's true or not.

It's a tough call, but you would be bothered by it if you didn't at least let her know people were talking. Less because the rumor bothers you than because she went out of her way to defend you for something similar being said about you. Defending a person Lyrica might be victimizing feels less urgent than defending Lyrica herself. You don't know why that sounds like the right thing to do, but it definitely feels like the right thing to do.

It occurs to you that your priorities might be a little fucked up. But, you are apparently part monster, so what the fuck.

As she starts on her way into the main hall and you head towards the staircase to the second floor, you pause. "Hey, Lyrica?"

She stops and looks back. "Hmn?"

"They say you pimp out your girlfriend for extra cash. That okay with you?" Not identifying the rumormongers or whether or not you believe it, yet offering to do something about it. It somehow feels right to do that, despite the implications. Lyrica, for all her faults and standoffish behavior, is one of yours.

"Well....it's true." she shrugs. "I mean, I give her all the money after, but....it's still true." You look at her and she looks down at the floor.

"You're sick; you know that, right?" It doesn't really surprise you that your tone of voice is about the same that you might tell someone 'water is wet' in. "I mean, if it's not okay with you, that's still something I would take care of."

"I don't care. And yeah." She looks up at you, and in a resigned tone of voice she tells you, "I know, I'm pretty sick." Then she smiles there is a kind of forlorn desperation in her voice, and a haunted, starry look in her eyes. "But she loves me, you know?"

You stare at her and then smile, just a little as you relent, thinking about your twins. "Yeah. Yeah, I know." The gratitude in eyes belies the stoic expression she puts on as she turns away.

Taking a deep breath you take the stairs three at a time, and then push the door to the hallways open. Steeling yourself, you walk up to the massive oak door with the plaque Sister Christine Grace set upon it. Many a screwdriver mark, knife cut, and one or two hammer blows are a testament to the hatred the wards of Edgewood Home have for this plaque and it's namesake. You knock on the door and take a deep breath as Sister Christina calls, "Come in."

Time to take your licks.

>To Be Continued....

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Thank you for reading and playing.

Updates may be a little sparse tomorrow night, as I am expecting to be much busier, but we will continue with this thread.

>>1960945
Thanks for running

>>1960945

Complete Pastebin. I'll add the Suptg Archives either tomorrow or next week.

https://pastebin.com/A1it7dgB

>>1960944
>>1960945
Thanks for running, I like Hekah's fucked-up friends.

>"I mean, I give her all the money after, but....it's still true."
Not really sure I get this, as it seems to contradict the "for extra cash" and my understanding of pimping as exploitative. Like is she just kind of facilitating her girlfriend's career as a prostitute?

>>1960949
Not quite. It's still a heavily abusive relationship, but Lyrica's girl is more than a little messed up in the head herself

Lyrica's girl has a dissasociative personality disorder, but her disassociate personality is the one that everyone thinks of as the 'normal girl'. She'll do quite literally anythign for klyrica, and Lyrica adores her,.
It's exceedingly messed up._As an actual spoiler_It is also about the ethics of monsters not being the ethics of humans.

>>1960956
Ah, been reading pandora hearts?

>>1960964
No, I've never heard of it.

>>1960964
>pandora hearts
More like Monsterhearts

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>>1960976
>mfw monsterhearts reads like things I wrote long before it existed

>>1960980
Should've written some sleazy YA novel. Could've been Twilight before Twilight was a thing.

>>1961003
I may yet.

>>1961014
Get too it.

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Sister Christina is a middle aged woman, dark hair, horn rimmed glasses, sharply dressed, and a stern bearing. She is why you know silver is the work of the devil, or at least one of the most painful things in the universe. She has a silver hatpin in her pen cup and a heavy silver cross in her drawer, just for you. It's technically not corporeal punishment if she just makes you hold onto it for a minute. It's definitely torture, but not one recognized by the Geneva Convention or the local law enforcement. So you try and avoid situations like this.

Failure isn't so much an option, as it is a foregone conclusion at this point.

Reining in your (admittedly well deserved) hostility, you manage as blank an expression as you possibly can. It seems to be working, because she smiles primly and gestures to one of the hard chairs facing her desk. "Have a seat, Hekah." You sit down, putting your hands in your lap and looking at the one person whom you have yet to intimidate. the hard chair is uncomfortable, but the entire office is: austere, all wood and white plaster, oak and other hardwood, a bookcase which is immaculately dusted. It's like being in a 1920's office. Complete with a goddamn chalkboard with the week's schedule on it.

She organizes and sharply taps some papers into perfect order on her desk, the sharp noise echoing in the room. You can smell the mint tea she drinks, and faint wisps of camphor from her immaculately pressed clothing. 'Sister' Christina is not really a nun of course, but she demands that people refer to her like one. Her ego is probably larger than any of the Bratz could be, and of course they're perfectly well behaved if she's even suggested to be aware of a situation. You, not so much.

Setting her paperwork down she finally deigns to give you her attention. "It looks like there was quite a bit of trouble two days ago," Sister Christina begins, gazing at you with cold blue eyes. You don't replay as she hasn't actually asked or said anything that wasn't really damn obvious. "Children out of their rooms, sneaking into other children's rooms, screaming in the middle of the night, causing a ruckus as well as damaging Edgewood property. You are supposed to set an example to the other children at your age, Hekah. Certainly not sneaking into little girl's rooms and waking them up."

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Maintaining your silence, you watch as she opens a drawer - not the one containing the damn cross - and pulls out a folder. Your name on it of course, and write ups, demerits, undoubtedly the notes the idiot psychiatrist takes as well as those Doctor Rikandra makes. You have doubts that the latter are entirely complete. "So. Would you like to tell me what happened in your own words?" Folding her hands over your paperwork, she looks at you sternly. Unlike most adults, her sternness is very real, a palpable sensation against the skin.

[] I would like to, but you wouldn't believe me.
[] Bethany had nightmares, I stayed with her so she could sleep better, someone came into the room, I chased them off. End of story.
[] It's not what you want to hear, but this is the truth....
[] Write in:

>>1964557
>[] It's not what you want to hear, but this is the truth....

>>1964557
>[] Bethany had nightmares, I stayed with her so she could sleep better, someone came into the room, I chased them off.
>Do you want be to get specific or is that acceptable to you?
If she wants details, she'll get 'em, but if vague works to preserve her world view then it's fine to go easy on her.

>>1964557
This >>1964577 and
>Try to bite back the hostility

>>1964557
>[x] Bethany had nightmares, I stayed with her so she could sleep better, someone came into the room, I chased them off. End of story.

>>1964557
>[] Bethany had nightmares, I stayed with her so she could sleep better, someone came into the room, I chased them off.
>That is when I bumped into Orderly Thomas, literally. I don't suppose Orderly Jake gave his version of the story?

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[X] Bethany had nightmares, I stayed with her so she could sleep better, someone came into the room, I chased them off. End of story.
[X] Write in: Count to ten; mention bumping into Thomas, see what Jake said, and offer to tell her more if she wants it.

It's difficult to deal with Sister Christina. She's very old school, very religious, and very authoritative. she rubs you the wrong way, in all sorts of ways, and it doesn't help that she's the only person whose managed to punish you and make it stick. It doesn't help that the wannabe schoolmarm is one of the people who hates the fact that there are people other than humans, and monsters that aren't people. Lucky you, you're both!

Still, this IS her business, her job, and she might - might - be able to help a little if you can convince her that you're really not the bad person she apparently thinks you are. So you tell her the very basics, in as straightforward a manner as possible, while keeping your voice even and calm.

"Bethany came to my room. She had a very bad nightmare, so I got into bed with her after making sure she had her mittens on and was very much aware that sleeping was all that was going to happen." That seems to help; sister Christina nods in understanding. "We got into bed, and I woke up because someone was trying to get into bed with her. I chased them off, and ran into Orderly Thomas. He and Orderly Jake followed me into the kitchen, because that's where they ran off to." A tiny frown starts to form so you stop talking. "I don't....I don't know if they saw who it was." Not quite what you wanted to say, but it's better if you don't make it sound like they were covering anything up. you hope. "I guess that's most of it."

"I've reviewed the footage of the security cameras," she says, startling you because you've never seen any such things, and no one else has said anything about them, "and I'm afraid they don't show anything but you chasing one of your cats." The sensation of your stomach sinking is not very pleasant. "Mr. Thomas claims that you were trying to save one of your cats from somebody, and that when you found the drain that someone put your cat in, Mr. Jake pushed you into it." Those piercing blue eyes meet yours. "Please tell me the truth, Hekah. Did Mr. Jake push you in? Or did you jump in to avoid being caught?"

Oh, great, she's twisting your words and didn't see the thing that woke up Beth.

[] Jake tried to grab me when I slipped, but he only caught my nightshirt.
[] It wasn't a cat, and I jumped in after it.
[] Of course Thomas saw it all clearly, he's a very good orderly.
[] Write in:

>>1964660
>[] It wasn't a cat, and I jumped in after it.

>>1964660
>"Whether your cameras caught them or not doesn't really concern me, I was chasing an intruder, not one of my cats. I can't really say if Jake was trying to push me or catch me, I was already falling in by the time he was near enough to reach me."

>>1964660
>[x] It wasn't a cat, and I jumped in after it.

>>1964660
>[] Jake tried to grab me when I slipped, but he only caught my nightshirt.
>[] It wasn't a cat, and I jumped in after it.
I feel like there's no reason not to tell the truth here.

>
There is a drainage grate under the cabinet, slightly askew, and you dart for it, hurling it aside like paper despite it being made out of cast iron. Jake makes a lunge for you and manages to snag your nightshirt sleeve, his fingers just grazing your arm. the glare you give him is met by an equally angry one, but you can see behind the anger another, carefully hidden emotion: fear.
>The fear in his eyes, hidden under the layer of anger for making him actually work for his paycheck, makes you wonder exactly what he knows. You don't have time to find out now, so you yank you thin nightshirt out of his hand and jump down the grate, his voice following you: "SHIT!"

These are the pertinent passages from the previous thread

>>1964676
Oh wait the first one is saying we slipped so nevermind, but I don't know I feel like we should mention he tried to catch us because he still might know stuff we wanna know, and him owing us could be a good thing.

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[X] It wasn't a cat, and I jumped in after it.
[X] Write in: You know what you saw and smelled, and you're not blaming Jake. Well, not for trying to catch you, anyways.

"It wasn't a cat." God and Goddess, you sound like a petulant child. Wait, you are a petulant child. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, then look her in the eyes. "It wasn't a cat, and I jumped in after it. Jake tried to catch me, but I didn't want to let it get away. Your cameras are wrong, there was something there, and I chased it."

Sister Christina stares at you a moment more, and then sighs, making a note on the sheet in front of her. "Well, Mr. Thomas said that Mr. Jake pushed you, and from what I saw on the recording-" Cameras in the kitchen makes sense, but you would really like to know where the hell they are to have been angled just right to see all of that. "-I'm more inclined to believe him than not. Since Bethany is dead set on not telling me what really happened, I suppose that the only things you did wrong were being up after curfew, being in someone else's room after curfew, and endangering yourself."

It strikes you as odd that she isn't also accusing you of damaging Edgewood property, but she must have decided Jake moved the cabinetry, and not you. Then one of the things she said filters through your consciousness and you issue a flat, "What did you say about Bethany?"

The tall woman looks at you seriously. "It's a very common problem among abused children to protect their abusers, but Bethany is not really a very good liar, so I am inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt if she says you didn't do anything to her." You lace your fingers together and clutch tight, trying to keep your hands under control, trying to keep your arms tense and tight so that your tendons and ligaments don't start cracking and shifting. Keeping the anger off your face isn't much of an option, but you try anyways. "That being said....someone with your....proclivities is someone who shouldn't be allowed near younger children. It sets the wrong example."

You try and keep your voice calm and neutral. "What proclivities would those be, Sister Christina?" Good, good, you're holding it together. Just a little longer.

The head of Edgewood sets the pen aside, and her other hand goes to the other drawer, where she keep the ruler she uses on some children, and the silver cross she uses on you. Her gaze is very direct, accusing. "I think you know perfectly well what kind of proclivities I mean, Miss Hekah," she replies, her voice acerbic.

[] Whatever you say, your ladyship.
[] I think I really would like to know exactly what I'm being accused of here.
[] If you are referring to Bethany, I would never hurt a hair on that girl's head. If you mean the twins, I'm sure Beth and orthers will make up their own minds when they're ready.
[] ....afraid I'm going to eat someone, Chistine?
[] Write in:

>>1964692
>[] Whatever you say, your ladyship.

>>1964692
>[] Whatever you say, your ladyship.
Weigh options carefully, but being able to stop vampires is slightly more important than arguing with this jerk. Slightly.

>>1964692
>[] ....afraid I'm going to eat someone, Chistine?

>>1964692
>[] I think I really would like to know exactly what I'm being accused of here.

>>1964692
I think I'll add this to my vote here >>1964700
>Hold out your hand in preperation for recieving the cross

>>1964692
>[] ....afraid I'm going to eat someone, Chistine?
Actually this might be interesting even though I'm inclined to think that, inhuman ancestry or not, she sees us as just yet another wretched orphan under her care, that or she's prideful enough to think that she's got enough of a grip on things here to stop us from causing any real trouble.

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[X] Whatever you say, your ladyship.
[X] ....afraid I'm going to eat someone, Christine?
[X] Write in: Take your licks like a good little girl.

"Of course, Sister Christina," you say mildly, earning a suspicious glare from the Wicked Bitch of the 'Woods. You hold out your right hand, working very hard not to shake or show the fear you have of it. It doesn't hurt you to admit you're afraid of it; you have every right to be afraid of it. Silver hurts like nothing you could describe, or like anyone else could imagine. Dipping your hand in acid would probably be a relief in comparison.

Looking down at your proffered hand, she hesitates. It's obvious she wants to, the hate she feels for you a thick and very effective mask for her fear. To your surprise she takes her hand away from the drawer and instead makes another notation in your file. "Perhaps, since it seems that you are a disruptive influence on others, you might learn how to behave more properly when surrounded by others whose behavior is more proper." She scribbles something on a piece of notepaper, and places it in your hand. "You are dismissed, Hekah," she finishes, closing your file.

West wing, Room 2B, indefinite. You stare at the slip of paper consigning you to the same section of the building as the Bratz and other more normal-appearing girls. A whole two wings away from Shauna and Bethany, with an orderly's station between. You feel your stomach churn at the thought of staying around those perfectly presentable, utterly hypocritical girls that sister Christina holds up as shining exemplars of her rehabilitation techniques and the results of enforced discipline.

You feel a twinge from the creature you Marked, deep, far away, a warning.

The phrase 'blowing a gasket' is one you've heard the janitor and the maintenance men use. They're old men, who smoke a lot, bitch a lot, and drink a whole lot more. You knew, in a vague way, that it meant flipping out, losing it, having a breakdown. But you didn't understand then that there was an actual, nearly physical sensation to it. Like a soft 'pop' inside your head, like your brain blew a fuse. The rage and anger find a focus, and you look at the matron of Edgewood and murmur in a soft, even, almost gentle voice.

"Afraid I'm going to eat someone, Chrissy?"

Her head snaps up and she stares at you in disbelief.

"You can only really hate someone if you're afraid of them. Are you....afraid of me....Chrissy?" Your soft, warm voice is suggestive, almost sultry.

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Sister Christina moves so fast you don't even have time to react. She snatches the long hairpin out of the cup of pens, miraculously not spilling it across her desk, and stabs you though the hand, pinning your hand to the desk. The unholy shriek of pain that erupts from your lips is undoubtedly heard throughout the upper halls, but you can't endure this kind of pain. No one could. Her face is a mask of hate and she leans halfway across the desk, keeping the pin in place. All your fantastic strength, all your inhuman toughness, gone with the simple act of being pinned by a sliver of silver. Gripping your right wrist, you struggle to draw breaths, your head filled with explosions of light and the agony radiating up your arm, through your body.

The words seem to come from a distance, barely understandable in your state of excruciating agony. "You are not the first monster I've dealt with, and you won't get the best of me either. If you can't be taught, you'll learn anyways. If you don't, you'll end up just like he did." You grit your teeth, almost ready to claw your own hand off to escape the agony that boils through your body. She yanks the pin out and you collapse to your knees in front of her desk, cradling your injured hand to your chest, your entire hand numb and your arm filled with pins and needles, like they're asleep.

"Go see Doctor Rikandra, then see the orderly on duty for your room change," Sister Christina tells you as though nothing more unusual happened than a minor interruption in a business meeting. You draw deep, gasping breaths, weak as a kitten.

[] Do as you are told, for now.
[] What other monster?
[] Tell her she'll pay for her sins, just like everyone else.
[] Write in:

>>1964736
>[] Do as you are told, for now.

>>1964736
>Do what you are told. Almost
>Leave, bleed on the room-change note
>Go see the doctor, then waste time until night
>Take the note to Judith, to distract her with illegible notes for Lyrica (>>1960919)

>>1964736
>[] Do as you are told, for now.
Well in hindsight probably not worth it, though there are now two questions we have to ponder (though probably not to her)
>Who is this other monster
>This lady seems like the right kind of mean to be a decent monster hunter, does she genuinely not know about the vampires and would exterminate them for the crime of making her look bad if we could make her believe, or is she covering them up for some reason (like they're too powerful for her to beat)

>>1964736
>[] What other monster?

>>1964736
>[] Do as you are told, for now.

>>1964736
>[] What other monster?
You've been here for some time, haven't you Sister? How much do you really know about what goes on down in the basement?

>>1964736
>[] Do as you are told, for now.
>[] What other monster?

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[X] Write in: Even now, you plot, plan, and prepare; but that leaves you with a question needing an answer....maybe two.
[X] Do as you are told, for now.
[?] What other monster?

It takes you a moment, maybe several, to work up the strength to stand without risking another collapse. You are starting to regain feeling in your hand and you really wish that weren't the case. The pins and needles up your arm are intensifying as your hand starts to feel like you've been holding a chunk of dry ice for too long without any insulation whatsoever. The crumpled note is smeared with black; not ink, but your silver-poisoned blood.

You look at her, not even trying to disguise your hate, mistrust, and pain. The words have to forced out, your throat is raw from the scream. "....what....what other....monster?"

She looks up, as though surprised you are still here. "Oh, honestly!" Sister Christina grouses in exasperation. She gets up and walks to the door, opening it. "Mr. Jeremiah? Please escort Hekah to the infirmary, then go to her room and search it. Have all her belongings placed in Room 2B in the West Wing."

Jeremiah is a by the book, doing-his-job kind of guy, and you're thankful it's not someone who might take advantage of your current condition. "Yes ma'am," he says, all but saluting as he enters the room. He's not surprised by your condition, and gently takes you by your good arm. "Come along now, miss."

Jerking away from his touch, you give Sister Christina a look that says 'this isn't over bitch', and her cool gaze insists, 'oh yes it is, missy'. Nonetheless, you allow yourself to be escorted to the stairwell and from there the infirmary, ignoring the looks of concern, pity, and superiority alike. Jeremiah glances up and down the largely empty hall, and pauses before the infirmary. "Now, there ain't nothin' I'm going to find in your room that's gonna get you in trouble, is there?" he asks quietly. With a shake of your head you reassure him, and you murmur a soft thanks as he knocks on the door and walks you into the infirmary.

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Doctor Rikandra's expression falls as she sees you half stumble into the room. "Thank you, Jeremy, I have her here, now." He nods and takes his leave, unerringly following his master's instruction. "Bah, you antagonize that woman so much! No wonder you get in trouble." The doctor walks over to you, and with great care gently pulls your arm out so she can examine it. You continue to clutch your wrist, trying to prevent the pain that radiates from the injury from moving up your arm, and it feels half-successful.

Taking the note from your hand she sets it aside, before looking at the small hole that pierces your hand straight through. The doctor 'tsks' softly, gingerly turning your hand over. "This, this will scar, Hekah," she tells you de soto, before guiding you to the sink. The hot water she runs over your hand washing the blackened blood from your hand and she gently pushes around the wound, which hurts, but compared to what you've just been through isn't even worth more than a wince. More black blood flows, but this time there are streaks of dark red as well.

[] Ask her what other monster!
[] Keep your mouth shut for now.
[] Ask her what Sister Christina used to be before she ran an orphanage.
[] Write in?

>>1964761
>[] Ask her what Sister Christina used to be before she ran an orphanage.

>>1964761
>Ask why Sister Christina is letting vampires treat her orphanage like a larder/playhouse?

>>1964761
>>[] Ask her what other monster!

>>1964761
>[] Ask her what Sister Christina used to be before she ran an orphanage.

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[X] Ask her what Sister Christina used to be before she ran an orphanage.
[x] Write in: Dude, she has an infestation of vampires, I mean, come on!

Doctor Rikandra works the wound slowly and carefully, pushing the poisoned blood out and replacing the blackness with red. First in tiny streaks, then in small but more pure pulses of red. The burning pain subsides to a dull ache, and the relief that floods through your body is enough to make you rest your head on your other arm, leaning on the edge of the sink. Turning off the water, she carefully runs a cotton swab through the injury, and she makes a soft humming noise, as if impressed.

Turning your head, you look at her inquisitively. "No tendons, no arteries hurt. No bone, not easy for hands. That woman is no less skilled than she was before. Still idiot, but skilled idiot."

"What was she, some kind of vampire hunter? 'Cause she sucks at it." That earns a snort of amusement from the doctor, who removes the q-tip from your hand and then places a dab of some ointments and then a leaf over each opening. You don't ask, she only ever tells you it is for your special body.

"Worked in special job, like me, secret stuff. Things about unnatural things. Can't tell you. But yes, hunter. Not vampires, but other things. Bad things." She wraps your hand carefully but very well, unconcerned about making it too tight. "No vampire hunters. no vampires to hunt, yeah? special case." The doctor stands up and looks at her handiwork, and you flex your fingers gingerly. "Tell you to be careful, but you won't listen. So, just don't put hand in dirty places."

Rikandra waves you off but you refuse to move, looking at her seriously. She frowns and then gestures to a seat, as she walks over to her stash cabinet and pulls out a pack of close cigarettes. "Monsters are monsters. Always some, somewhere. Men, women, real monsters. Tasked to keep them quiet, stop them if they don't behave. Experts, all of us. Bad time, find something amazing. Bad amazing. Kills most of us, rest of us retire. Me, her, Thomas, here. She's fifty three, you know?" You stare at the doctor. "It's true. Older than me. So...."

"What happened? To the boy. The other....monster." She looks at you seriously and you half expect her to tell you you're not a monster.

"He died."

>To Be Continued....

Thank you for reading and playing. We will continue tomorrow night (another busy night I'm afraid) and you will learn about 'the other monster'.

>>1964770
Thanks for running XS

>>1964770
Thanks for running

>>1964770
Thanks for running!

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Doctor Rikandra is not the best of storytellers. Despite her lack of american syntax and her penchant for commenting on seemingly superfluous things, the gist of the story is delivered, and it is not even remotely happy.

Sebastian, like most foster children and orphans who come to the Edgewood Home for Troubled Children, stayed at Edgewood once he arrived. Even at the age of eleven, it was very clear that he was on the far edge of troubled and edging into the territory of dangerously disturbed. It was very clear to those with a certain kind of experience he was not just different, but a certain amount of his humanity was missing, replaced with something else. That something else seemed to be in the nature of faery. ("Sidhe ears are round, yeah? Didn't know that before. Might have helped.") He was stronger and white he was not tougher than human, he healed inhumanly fast; a bruise lasted hours, a severe laceration a mere day or two. It was not these things that caused trouble.

Sebastian talked to people other people didn't see. It turned out that there were in fact people there, but they weren't even remotely human: pixies, sprites, spirits. They avoided the humans of course, except for those so broken or insane no one would have believed them anyways. Naturally, as he got older, these conversations became more in depth, and started catching the attention of Sister Christina. She, being the staid and grounded individual she was, tried to teach the young man to ignore his faery friends and to interact almost solely with the world everyone else lived in. Surprisingly she managed it quite well; he was on his way to becoming a well adjusted, if laconic and slightly somber youth.

The problems started when he turned fifteen. He had become entirely brainwashed into ignoring his fae nature, and so when he started developing....abilities, for lack of a less outrageous word that would offend the sensibilities of certain religious people, he was frightened and tried even harder to deny them. It became so bad that he started wearing a bracelet of cast iron links to keep his powers under control, despite the burn marks they inflicted. He still heard voices, of course, but he started shutting himself inside his room, or hiding in the attic to avoid them. Crosses seemed to keep them at bay, as did certain flowers, and iron nails and filings. However, the more he rejected them, the more morose and quiet he became. He stopped eating, he stopped drinking. Finally, his body gave out, despite all of Doctor Rikandra's efforts.

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"So he died. Not of any one thing, or because of something someone did directly, but he died anyways. Sad. Stupid." Stubbing out her clove cigarette she sighs and shakes another one out, and sits contemplating it. "Tried helping, didn't know enough then. Didn't have enough learning about those things. Troubled boy, strange things. Sister Christina prayed with him. But....still died." She tosses her head towards the darkening sky. "Buried out there, in the cemetery. Nice funeral. Very sad."

[] ....what if he's the vampire?
[] That won't happen to me. I won't let that happen to me.
[] She's a psychopath, you know, and she's gonna kill someone before all this is over.
[] Write in:

>>1969493
>[x] That won't happen to me. I won't let that happen to me.
At the very least, Hekah's not gonna ignore and deny the reality that manifested here, regardless of Sister Christina's attempts to say otherwise.

>>1969493
>[] She's a psychopath, you know, and she's gonna kill someone before all this is over.

>>1969493
>[] That won't happen to me. I won't let that happen to me.
>But if I'm going to survive these next two years, I'm not sure I can avoid a reckoning with her.
I feel like he's probably not -the- vampire, and might not even be -a- vampire. Like I'm not sure these traditional vampires were ever people.

>>1969493
>Wait, so Chrissey threatened me with extreme....irresponsibility? I don't understand where she's even coming from anymore. Correction: i never did.
>I do my best to care for others and she repays it with spite and violence.

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[X] That won't happen to me. I won't let that happen to me.
[X] Write in: Two more years is going to end up being a problem....I don't even understand the threat she made, and all I am doing is taking care of my kids. That doesn't deserve this violence and spite!

Frowning you shake your head. "That's not going to happen to me. It can't, I won't let it." The doctor looks at you with interest and puts the cigarette back in the box. Looking up at her you frown. "I don't even understand what she's threatening me with. I mean....she repays me taking care of Beth with spite, and if I even slightly challenge her she shoves silver through my hand."

"You did more than just talking back at her?" asks Doctor Rikandra pointedly.

"Yeah, but I don't think that deserves being tortured and scarred. I'm not going to eat anyone." Rikandra doesn't even make it a joke, and you're kind of grateful for that. "She's not being far, and she probably isn't sane...."

"Already told you that, yeah. Not safe, you talking things that make her mad." You try and rein in your immediate response.

"Maybe, but if I'm stuck here two more years, there's probably going to come a time when we're going to have more than words, and I won't stand for this shit," you proclaim, waving your bandaged hand. Doctor Rikandra merely nods. "My kids, my cats, my home. It might be her house, but it's my fu-" Those dark eyes turn harder than steel. "Sorry. It's still my home."

Putting her cigarettes away, the doctor nods calmly. "Can't deny it. It's true. Maybe more yours than hers. Maybe even more than that." You start to ask but she stands up and gestures for you to leave as Maryanne and Jose come in, him helping her, her nursing a bloodied couple of fingers. You take the hint and leave quietly, though you pat Jose on the shoulder and give Maryanne a Special Kiss on the head, marking her - but not before you grab the stained and crumpled note for possible later use.

Because if she's weak and there's the scent of blood, you might have to look in on her later.

[] Go to your new room and get it over with.
[] Go find Joslin; if anyone knows about weird shit, it's him. Her. Whatever.
[] Go find Shaun or Shauna, you need cuddles.
[] Pay a visit to the orderly desk and see if you can prepare a little for tonight.
[] Write in:

>>1969601
>[] Pay a visit to the orderly desk and see if you can prepare a little for tonight.

>>1969601
>[x] Pay a visit to the orderly desk and see if you can prepare a little for tonight.

>>1969601
>[] Go to your new room and get it over with.

>>1969601
>[] Go find Joslin; if anyone knows about weird shit, it's him. Her. Whatever.
New character who might know about weird shit and might not subscribe to the gender binary? I'm in.

>>1969601
>[] Go to your new room and get it over with.

>>1969645
>>1969668
I'll follow the orderly desk visit with this choice.

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[X] Pay a visit to the orderly desk and see if you can prepare a little for tonight.

The infirmary being on the second floor always struck you as a little weird, because if someone gets hurt, going up a flight of stairs just makes it worse, right? On the other hand, minor injuries aren't going to be worth the effort of going up a flight or two of stairs, so there might be some sense in it after all.

The orderly desk upstairs is pretty specifically for security purposes; it's also where they keep the medications for the kids that need it, another reason the doctor's office is up stairs you suppose. The one you're interested in is the downstairs one, and that is another problem entirely. Mostly because it's busy and it's the place where people are most likely to walk in and see prospective foster kids or adoptable kids.

You're still a little weak in the knees so you actually take the steps one at a time rather than two or three. the few experiences you have had with silver-based injuries have always left you like this; the stuff is not just painful, it's like a poison, and your body fights it off with adrenaline and stuff. You might not understand the details, but you've seen how food poisoning affects other kids, and it's a lot like how you feel: shaky, weak-legged, and slightly nauseous. Definitely not a condition to fuck around with dangerous stunts, regardless of how tough you are.

Still, in an hour or so the effects should be gone, other than the dull ache in your hand, and that's a good place to start. you reach the first floor and wander down the main hall, glancing up at the shimmering crystals in the chandeliers and wondering how they might hide cameras around here. The desk is as busy as you expected; Jennifer, Jeremiah, and Larry are there, the first at the computer making some kind of schedule, the second looking over her shoulder, and the latter watching the doorway, as well as any of the kids in the hall.

There are a few - mostly from the West Wing - and you ignore them, especially the ones who whisper secretively. You know how they view you: tomboyish, hanging out with the freaks, unkempt hair, always in pants and long sleeved shirts, and mostly because you're affectionate with the twins. that alone would have gotten you on the bad side of most of the girls, because Shaun is hot. The fact that Shauna blatantly adores you just makes it worse. Of course, the Bratz spreading rumors of you diddling Bethany is just going to make it all that much of a problem.

[] Ask Jeremiah if the doctor approved any painkillers.
[] Flirt with Jennifer - she might actually like other women.
[] Larry's new; he might let something slip.
[] Write in:

>>1969698
>[] Flirt with Jennifer - she might actually like other women.

>>1969698
>[] Larry's new; he might let something slip.
ask about what happened during the attack

>>1969698
>[] Larry's new; he might let something slip

>>1969698
>[x] Larry's new; he might let something slip.

>>1969698
>[] Larry's new; he might let something slip.

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[X] Larry's new; he might let something slip.

Making your way to the raised wall of fear and ignorance that is the first Floor Orderlies' Desk, you put your arms on it in front of the buff fellow who looks at you a little warily. Resting your chin on the back of your hands, you look up at him ingenuously. "Hi. You're new." Jeremiah and Jennifer look over at you, and Jeremiah gives you a stern look; Jennifer points a finger in your direction and cocks her head, clearly warning you to behave.

The orderly currently known as Larry looks at you dubiously. "New here, yeah. New to the job, not really."

"That's good. My name is Hekah. Did they tell you the Rules?" He looks confused and glaces at the other two. You take the opportunity to sneak a peek at the visitor logs. No one coming in today, too bad. Whatever they hint or suggest silently you miss, but when Larry turns back to you, he frowns slightly. "Guess not. There's three Rules, the one all the kids know."

"Oh yeah?" he asks dubiously. Jeremiah keeps his expression neutral, while Jennifer shakes her head and goes back to the spreadsheet.

"Yeah." You hold up one finger. "Don't Make Hekah Mad." Second finger, as Jeremiah shakes his head knowingly. "Don't Hurt Hekah's Cats. That's all the cats that live around here, you know." You hold up finger number three. "Hekah's always Right." Jennifer snorts a little and Larry glances back at her. "Okay, yeah, I lied about that one." Jennifer and Jeremiah turn there full attention to the screen as they giggles and chuckle, and you stand up, looking up at the big man curiously as he looks exasperated. "You the guy they're gonna replace Jake with?"

He gets a sort of guarded look, and speaks softly. "That's not really the kind of thing you ask a new guy, you know."

"It is when the old guy is a pervert who keeps peeking in the girl's showers and looking in when they're changing," you murmur very quietly. "Jake is not a nice person, Mr. Larry. None of us are really sorry to see him get canned." He doesn't look surprised, or even doubtful. "so, we'd much prefer it if you were the kind of guy who doesn't do that."

"Well, i don't know anything about that, but I was told he was responsible for lettign a girl get hurt." He glances at your hand and then frowns. "That wasn't you, was it?"

[] No, unrelated injury.
[] Well, there was kind of a tussle.
[] Yep, in the flesh and blood.
[] Maybe, maybe not. Really, that's why they let him go?
[] Write in:

>>1969738
>[] Maybe, maybe not. Really, that's why they let him go?

>>1969738
>Wasn't his fault. THIS time, anyway.
>Starting to wonder if Thomas had been waiting for his chance to boot him out.

>>1969738
>[] Maybe, maybe not. Really, that's why they let him go?

>>1969738
>[x] Write in: Ended up hurt, but it wasn't Jake that did it. As for the hand, that's something more recent.

>>1969738
>Nah. This was just the head honcho driving nails through my hand. Wanna see the scar?

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[X] Maybe, maybe not. Really, that's why they let him go?
[X] Write in: Wasn't his fault, at least this time. Kinda wondering if Thomas just needed an excuse. But no, all these hurts aren't HIS fault....it was the boss ladies fault!

"I'm not the kind of girl to get a beating and tell," you brag, ignoring the badly stifled giggles and chuckles from Larry's new co-workers, to whom Larry is giving the stink-eye, "but if that's what they're telling you, there must be something to it right?" That mostly shuts up the other two, and Larry looks down at you with a much more frank appraisal. "I kinda wonder if Thomas needed some kind of excuse, really," you continue more quietly.

"Sometimes what looks good on paper isn't what really happens, is that what you're saying?" he asks quietly, and you try and hide your surprise at the realization he's trying to pump you for information.

Leaning closer you frame your injured hand with your good hand. "Well, let's just say this wasn't done in the schoolyard playing with sticks with other kids, and leave it at that, okay?" The amount of consideration he gives the comment is interesting. With a wicked grin you rise to your tip-toes and whisper confidentially, "The head honcho stuck a nail through it. Wanna see the hole?"

"Hey, Hekah, leave the poor man alone. He's working." Jeremiah's firm tone of voice tells you you might have gotten a little to close to home for him, and you grin and take a step back from the desk.

"By the way, I really wasn't kidding about the cats. Leave them alone." You smile as you say it, but the way his eyes widen tells you that he got the tone and the intent perfectly clear. "Nice to meet you Larry!" you call out with a wink, noticing a few particularly dark looks from a couple of West Wingers, while the few East Wing girls and boys giggle and whisper amongst themselves at your last comments. With that you turn and head into the West Wing, fairly certain nothing good awaits you.

Most of Edgewood's boys are downstairs, while the girls are upstairs. You don't typically have much reason to travel in the West Wing at all, unless you happen to notice someone messing with one of your kids or the like. There is also a much smaller ratio of boys to girls, and you're pretty sure a lot of that is because boys leave early (as in get the fuck out of Dodge). So when you enter the lower half of the West wing, it is pretty specifically to let people know you're there with a purpose. Also, Shaun is supposed to be staying here, which happens very rarely.

This is the particular fact that lends itself to the doubts about cameras at all, because Shaun sneaks around like an armored knight would.

[] Just get through it and upstairs as simply as possible.
[] Sneak a peek at Shaun's room; he's in the upper East Wing, with Shauna, but still.
[] Poke around a little, let the guys know you're here for the foreseeable future.
[] Write in:

>>1969772
>[] Poke around a little, let the guys know you're here for the foreseeable future.

>>1969772
>Go give head-scratchies and pets to the West Wing cats.

>>1969772
>[] Poke around a little, let the guys know you're here for the foreseeable future.
Might as well have some fun while we're here

>>1969772
>[] Poke around a little, let the guys know you're here for the foreseeable future.

>>1969772
>[] Poke around a little, let the guys know you're here for the foreseeable future.

>>1969772
>[x] Poke around a little, let the guys know you're here for the foreseeable future.

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[X] Poke around a little, let the guys know you're here for the foreseeable future.
[X] Write in: Gotta say hello to my peeps....I mean, cats.

It doesn't take very long to get noticed of course. It does cause a number double takes from the few guys who are in the west wing, which isn't a surprise since you look a fair bit like Shauna, with wilder hair and blue eyes. You stop along the way to give ear scratches to Kimi the Big Orange Tabby, and another stop to admire Ginger and her new litter in Scott's room. Scott earned himself bonus points for letting you know she'd had them in his drawer, and even more for letting them stay. The thirteen year old will never had to worry about anyone bullying him more than once ever again. Ginger is perfectly happy to let you give careful finger-pets along their tiny heads for each of her newborns, their eyes finally open and their ears mostly unfolded (mostly because you think there's Scottish Fold in some of those cuties).

The other boys watch you with suspicion, and it isn't long before one of them confronts you. "A little out of your way, Hekah?' Jackson is a fifteen year old just into his second growth spurt, his voice still cracking and only recently starting to flesh out. He's still in his room, along with a couple of other of the boys, and you walk back to his doorway and look inside. "He glares at you from the edge of his bed while the other two guys are watching football on the small screen of his desktop computer.

"Better leave it, Jack," warns Peter, who glances away from the football game to look at Jackson.

"Nope, I'm your upstairs neighbor now." Peter and James glance at you and Jackson stands up, sauntering over to you.

"That so? You gonna party with us now, leave your weird ass friends?" He looks up up and down and you lean against the door jam, and slowly peel a slice out of it with your thumbnail, marking it. Peter is shaking his head and scoots his chair a bit further from you and Jackson, while James is trying very hard to be invisible while watching the game.

[] Nah, just going to stick around to remind you who's boss here.
[] You think you're all big and scary just because you've been working out?
[] Aw, how cute, he thinks he can compare to Shaun.
[] Write in:

>>1969796
>[] Aw, how cute, he thinks he can compare to Shaun.

>>1969796
>[] Nah, just going to stick around to remind you who's boss here.

>>1969796
>If you don't like it, you can take it up with the Sister.
>Look, I can see you've been working out, but that kind of thing's just not enough against little old me. Good try, though.

>>1969796
>[] Aw, how cute, he thinks he can compare to Shaun.

>>1969796
>Say nothing. Staredown.
Consider if he would qualify as food.

>>1969796
>[] Nah, just going to stick around to remind you who's boss here.

File: Shauna.gif (2.91 MB, 1080x1080)

2.91 MB GIF

[X] Nah, just going to stick around to remind you who's boss here.
[X] Aw, how cute, he thinks he can compare to Shaun.
[X] Write in: He could take it up with sister, and he's got a long, long way to go to stack up against you....maybe he qualifies as something edible.

You smile and tilt your head, giving him a slow once over. No, he just doesn't look like food to you. Something fragile that needs to be handled with care, like all breakable thing....but no, there's just no urge to take a bite out of him. Not that you let one iota of that creep into your expression. Crookie slinks in, and winds around your ankles, purring.

Looking at him like he might be something you could eat and toss away seems to piss him off just a touch. He places his hand on the door frame above your head and leans in towards you, speaking in a fake whisper. "Shaun says his sister is a better piece of ass than you'll ever be."

Peter slowly gets out of the chair and cautiously backs away, while James hunkers down in his chair, trying to be as small and harmless a target as possible. You just grin and lean close to him, making his eyes widen. He smells of sweat, methamphetamine abuse, and steroids. Unappetizing even if you did think of him as food, yuck.

"She is," you agree readily, to his shock. You doubt Shaun said any such thing, but maybe he did. You sure as hell wouldn't blame him: his sister is incredible in all sorts of ways. "Why do you think I sleep with both of them?" He starts to retort but you place a finger against his chest and start to push. He steps back and you follow, until he falls back into his bed, rubbing the painful bruise you leave. The Mark you leave.

"You think working out is going to put you on my level? I'm a monster, little boy; just ask Sister Christina. She put me here, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows who's in charge." Grinning evilly, you study him and decide that he's still not worth eating. "Shaun's more of a man than you'll ever be. His sister is more of a man than you'll ever be." You lean over and place your hands on either side of his head, tearing through his blanket easily. "Lay off the drugs, little boy. Take lessons from Shaun - be a man and not a wannabe like those idiots and children you call 'friends'." You slide your nails through the blanket, leaving it in ribbons as you kneel between his legs. With a grin you flick his crotch, the taut denim not letting you hit his nuts, but he gasps and tries to squirm away. "Those drugs will just leave you without a cock to speak of, you know?"

He's breathing fast, the fear streaming off of him. Walking to the door you glance back. "Be good, boys. Or you'll regret it."

With that you take your leave, little black Crookie at your side and mowing softly as you head towards the stairs. Yeah, that's going to make the rounds really quick.

>To Be Continued....

Thank you for reading and playing. A new thread will start next week.

>>1969832
Thanks for running

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23 KB JPG

>>1969830

>>1969830
Hmm, that's twice little Crookie has shown up when Hekah was feeling particularly predatory.
Good kitty.
>>1969832
Thanks for the run. I enjoy how you work in as many of the votes as possible.

>>1969846
It's a little more time consuming but write ins are always my first pick, and if there's a tie i'll try and work it out. If they're conflicting though, then I usually have a little trouble.

Ryukuza Quest was very good at helping polish the combination of votes. But the players are also more okay with longer posting times, and I have limited time to work with for this quest, since I'm working when I run it.

>>1969839
Maybe I'll post their victory celebration if the quest gets 'Good End'. Or continue POV from Shauna or Shaun if Hekah gets eaten by a grue.

>>1969853
>Maybe I'll post their victory celebration if the quest gets 'Good End'.
Please do.

>Spoiler
Let's hope it doesn't come to that, but it'd be interesting to go down that route if we royally fuck up.

>>1969832
Thanks for running!