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>>2027196

Updates: http://twitter.com/ravenkingquests

Previous Threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Thug%20Quest

Discord: https://discord.gg/3HegtNU

Updated map of Heat City pictured here, with friends' residences marked in pink text.

>>2027201

You reach behind you with the arm that still works and pull out the meat hook, letting out a yell of pain and fury. The butcher drops the chain, takes hold of your cleaver's handle, and pulls it out of his chest.

He stands there, holding your knife in one hand and his much larger knife in the other. You're way worse off than he is, but you can't let him get past you to the others. You bend down, barely staying on your feet, and pick up the meat hook and chain, soaked in your own blood. "Come on, you fucker," you manage to say, barely able to see straight. "You think I'm done? You think I -- I'm fucking -- oh, shit --"

"Johnny!" You hear Kaz shouting nearby. You spare a quick glance behind you to see him and Alex at the doorway. They raise their guns, but you hold up your hand to stop them.

"Hold on," you say, gasping for breath. "This is something I gotta do for myself." You turn to face the leather-masked butcher, holding the meat hook wet with your own blood. The butcher brandishes both knives, his and your own, ready to meet your charge.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," you hear Alex say. A bullet cracks. Half the butcher's knee disappears in a bloody mess, and he groans as his leg gives out under him. "Kaz, help me out with this, will you?"

You feel your wrists being seized and pulled backwards, Alex and Kaz pulling you away from the fight. Anger surges at the thought of being denied your rightful duel, and you try to tug yourself forward. Normally you could easily overpower both of them, but with your chest ripped open like this it's hard to even keep your arms lifted, let alone play tug-of-war with two people. "Let go of me," you growl, barely able to see or think, just knowing that you have to fight. You need to fight.

Alex resolves the issue by tugging the grenade from your belt, pulling the pin, and tossing it into the room. It bounces to a stop just in front of the butcher, who stares at it dully from behind his mask. Kaz slams the door shut just before a bang erupts from within.

(Continued)

>>2027205


The red mist of rage is starting to clear. In its place, pain rushes in, like water flooding to fill an emptying space. You sink to the ground with your good shoulder against the wall. The other shoulder is torn up by the butcher's meet hook. "He got me pretty good," you admit, still trying to catch your breath. Then a realization strikes you with a sudden agony. "Oh, shit!"

"What is it?"

"My cleaver was in there!" You try to struggle up your feet, but can't make it on your own, and fall back down awkwardly. You growl in frustration. "Kaz, can you--"

It's an effort for the kid, considering how heavy you are, but he's able to help get you standing by getting himself under your good arm and pushing up. Meanwhile, Alex opens the door to the butcher's lair, now thoroughly pockmarked from shrapnel on the other side, and walks in. She aims her G36 down and puts two rounds into the butcher's skull. Just making sure. Then she reaches down and grabs something on the floor. She returns and hands you the sad remains of your cleaver -- a stump of a handle with a jagged shard of blade attached.

"This was my favorite knife," you say, cradling its remains. "I had this ever since I saved Zero from that guy with the scar, way back at the start of this. It had the perfect balance, just the right amount of weight. I chopped so many gangsters with this. So many--"

"You also used it to kill Cat and Ryuji's dad," Alex points out. "I know they said they didn't feel weird about you carrying it around all the time, but uh, I'm pretty sure they were just being polite."

>I'll treasure the memory of the times we had together.
>First my Colt Revolver and the Ultimax, and now this?
>You're right. Maybe it's for the best.

>>2027212
>First my Colt Revolver and the Ultimax, and now this?

>>2027212
> First my Colt Revolver and the Ultimax, and now this?
> From now on I'm just spamming grenades.

>>2027212
>Eh, finally have a reason to use that axe I bough

>First my Colt Revolver and the Ultimate, and now this?

>>2027212
>>You're right. Maybe it's for the best.
Neat, no lost eye or anything just a stupid, replaceable knife

>>2027217
>>2027218
>>2027237

>First my Colt Revolver and the Ultimax, and now this?


Writing.

>>2027240
>replaceable
Motherfucker the memories we had with that cleaver are invaluable.
It's like a dog that cut off gopnik fingers and jap heads.
I am distraught.

>>2027265
motherfucker we just got a mulligan on possibly losing an eye.
console yourself with that.
Plus 2nd best girl won't be creeped out we have her dads murder weapon

>>2027267
Cleaver-Chan best girl though.
No waifus were held before her cheaply stamped blade and hastily finished bamboo handle.

>>2027267
I would have preferred to lose the eye. We have a second one of those

>>2027212

You think over the weapons you've lost so far on this journey. "Man. First I lost my Colt Python revolver and the Ultimax when I fell off that building. Now my favorite knife. These bastards just won't let me get attached to something, huh?"

"Sorry," Alex says. "You can get another one, though, right?"

"You don't get it. It's not the same! The memories I had with that cleaver are invaluable. Dammit. All right, no more getting attached to weapons. From now on I'm just spamming grenades."

"That's, uhh, not exactly precise. And it might pose problems walking around with a belt full of grenades--"

"Dammit, Alex, I'm grieving here!"

Roxie appears. Her face is a crimson mask, broken only by the white of a cheerful smile. "Hey, guys. Anyone got something I can use to wipe my face?" Alex gives Roxie a handkerchief, which she uses to wipe off some of the blood. "Wew! That was FUN!" She smacks one fist into the opposite palm, then grimaces and shakes off that hand. "Might've broken a few fingers, though. Oh well, omelettes and eggs and something-something. Hmm. You guys hear that?"

You listen, hearing nothing. "No?"

"Sirens," Roxie says. "Law's on the way. You wanna square up on them?"

"Are you crazy?" Alex asks in disbelief, then stops herself. "Right, of course. Forgot who I was talking to. No, Roxie, we're not "squaring up" on the cops. You two help Johnny back to the car. I'll keep us covered."

Roxie's face darkens. "I still don't like you ordering me around."

Alex loads a fresh magazine into her gun. "I'm a better shot than you, and you're stronger than me." She fixes an icy stare on Roxie to meet the other girl's wild glare. "That a problem?"

"What if it is?"

"Uh, hello?" you say. "Bleeding here. I don't have time for this shit."

Roxie gives Alex a last look before turning towards you. She gets herself under your other arm and supports you with a strong arm around the waist, still careful of your wound despite her obvious anger.

(Continued)

>>2027295


Roxie and Kaz help you outside to the car, and get you into the back seat. You notice that Kaz looks awfully pale. "You all right, kid? You get hit?"

"I'm fine," he says. "It's just--" He stops and runs off to a nearby garbage can, where you hear him losing his lunch.

"Guess I'll drive," Alex says, slinging her rifle.

Everyone gets into the car, and Alex pulls away. Police cars blow past you as you leave the slaughterhouse district, but none of them stop. Your car must not be on their radar just yet. You keep low, not wanting any of the cops to catch a glimpse of a guy with a bloody shoulder through the window. Alex drives casually, looking like just another car on the road, although you see her fingers gripping tightly to the steering wheel.

You take a look at Kaz, in the backseat with you. He still isn't looking so hot.

Back in Vietnam, you learned something about the difference between those people who survive war and those who're made for it. You, Alex, and Roxie -- you were all made to stand in the teeth of a storm like this. But maybe Kaz isn't cut out of this sort of thing.

>Reassure him he'll get used to it. You were a scared kid once yourself.
>Tell him that it's the law of the jungle out here, and he'd better toughen up if he wants to survive.
>Let him figure it out on his own. It's not something another can help with.
>Maybe it's better if he stays with the car next time. Having a dedicated wheelman isn't a bad idea anyway.

>>2027301
>Reassure him he'll get used to it. You were a scared kid once yourself.

>>2027301
>Reassure him he'll get used to it. You were a scared kid once yourself.
>We’re a crew we’ll watch your back too all right?

>>2027301
>Reassure him he'll get used to it. You were a scared kid once yourself.

>>2027320
>>2027322
>>2027327

>>Reassure him he'll get used to it. You were a scared kid once yourself.

Writing.

>>2027301
>Reassure him he'll get used to it. You were a scared kid once yourself.

>>2027301


"Relax, kid," you say to Kaz. "Losing your lunch after a dust-up is no big deal. We've all done it."

Alex and Roxie both glance at each other, then at you, obviously displeased.

"Most of us have done it," you say, amending your statement. "The point is, you'll get used to this sort of thing. I was a scared kid once myself."

"You?" he asks in disbelief.

"Yeah. I used to just be a normal guy. I mean, maybe normal is a stretch. But I still had to go through all this. Vietnam toughened me and a lot of other guys up real fast, so I know how it works. Same with prison. You just gotta keep your eyes open and stay alive, and you'll figure it out. I can tell you're freaking out a little, but it's okay. We're a crew. We'll watch your back too, just like you watch ours. All right?"

"All right."

Alex drops off Kaz on a street corner in Silver Pines at his request, then turns around in her seat to look at you. "Johnny, you need to head out to Doc Inch's place?"

Roxie says, "I'll take care of it."

"Are you sure?" Alex asks. "I can--"

"Relax. I got this," Roxie says, waving dismissively. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna -- you know. I'll just stitch him up." Alex narrows her eyes, and Roxie adds, "Promise."

Alex looks at you, and you give her a nod of assent. Shrugging, Alex turns the wheel and starts to head out to the Marsh, and the once-great manor.

You pull into the gravel driveway, and Roxie hops out of the car to help you of the backseat. Alex is still clearly skeptical about leaving you alone with her. She slowly puts the car in gear, then gives Roxie an "I've got my eye on you" gesture before turning the car away. Roxie has a big fake smile on her face as she waves to the car until the moment it disappears from view, then she instantly drops the pretense. "Fucking bitch," she mutters, then clears her throat. "Uh, anyway, let's get you inside, cowboy. Get that shoulder looked at."

"Thanks," you say. "Hey, about Alex --"

>I need you to listen to her. She knows what she's doing out there.
>Cut her some slack. She's just trying to help out.
>Don't let her boss you around. You do you.
>I don't know what the problem is between you two, but I want it to stop. We're a team.

>>2027528
>>Cut her some slack. She's just trying to help out.

Why do all Johnny's friends gotta have some issue or another with each other

>>2027528
>I need you to listen to her. She knows what she's doing out there.
>Cut her some slack. She's just trying to help out.

>>2027528
>I need you to listen to her. She knows what she's doing out there.

>>2027528
>>I need you to listen to her. She knows what she's doing out there.
>>Cut her some slack. She's just trying to help out.

>>2027528
>>Cut her some slack. She's just trying to help out

>>2027531
>>2027532
>>2027536
>>2027539
>>2027553

>>I need you to listen to her. She knows what she's doing out there.
>>Cut her some slack. She's just trying to help out.

Writing.

>>2027528
>Cut her some slack. She's just trying to help out.
> Like she said, you both have your areas of strength.

Good to see the quest up, even if I am going to bed soon.
Roxie a shit, Alex a best

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>>2027650

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>>2027528

"Cut her some slack, all right? She's just trying to help out. Like she said earlier, you're both good at different things. She can't just pile into a group of five guys like you can, or casually shrug off a punch from a guy my size. But she can see the tactical situation and make assessments in a way that nobody else in the crew can. That's part of how she contributes."

"So what?" demands Roxie. "I just have to let her boss me around?"

"I know you're not happy about it, but it's important."

"Pssh." Roxie looks sulky. "You must really like her, huh?"

"It's not about that," you say, trying to figure out how to get this across. "In Vietnam I learned that in combat, you need to listen to the person giving orders, even if you don't like the orders or the guy giving them. Unless everyone works together, discipline and unity break down, everyone starts arguing and doing their own thing, and the team can't work as a team.

"Maybe I'm in charge of this thing. This little crew we've put together. I don't really know. What I do know is that Alex has a good idea what she's doing. She's got experience and a good eye. I need her out there working as my second. Crossing my t's and dotting my i's, basically keeping my shit together. She keeps the group focused and on point in a way that I can't. So I need you to listen to her out there. Can you do that? If not for her, then for me."

Roxie scowls and kicks at the ground. You think you see her blush. "Fine."

Inside, the mansion seems to be empty. The twins must be off doing whatever it is they do. You tell Roxie how to find the first aid kit, then head to the living room. On the way, you pull off your bloody jacket and shirt and leave them on the floor of the hallway. You place your weapons on a nearby table, flop down on the couch, and turn on the television, flipping through channels until you find an old black and white movie that looks like it won't demand too much of your attention.

"I found it!" Roxie says, returning with the first aid in one hand and a pair of beer bottles in the other. You realize belatedly that you're still shirtless, but she doesn't seem to react. Probably used to it with spending all that time around boxers. She unbuckles her holsters and hangs them on a chair nearby, then climbs on top of the couch and seats herself on the back cushion right behind you. She gently adjusting your position with strong, calloused fingers to get access to your injured shoulder. You crack open your beer and take a drink, noticing, and then trying not to notice, the feeling of Roxie's bare legs pressed up against your back.

Her fighting background has clearly given her some experience with this sort of thing, judging from the way she stitches you up with a casual efficiency, although she does refer to you as a "baby" after you wince from a painful tug on the thread.

(Continued)

>>2027656
Frik u wussy

>>2027657


As she works, Roxie chatters about some of the fights she had earlier in the year, before she got mixed up with you and this whole crime conspiracy thing. "So then I was like, boom! Pow! One to the gut, then one to the jaw. He was out before he hit the floor. Then I turned to his friend and I said something really cool, I said -- uh -- fuck. I can't remember, but it was badass." She pokes at you. "Hey, are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, sorry, just spacing out. Thinking about stuff, you know?"

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Well, I was wondering ..."

>If she's still doing fights on the side.
>Where she lives.
>How she likes working with the crew.
>What she hopes to get out of working for you.
>Her opinion on someone. (Say who)
>Write-in.

>Where she lives.
>How she likes working with the crew.

>>2027661
>What she hopes to get out of working for you.

>>2027661
>>Where she lives.
>>How she likes working with the crew.

>>2027661
>>How she likes working with the crew.
>>What she hopes to get out of working for you.

>>2027665
>>2027666
>>2027676
>>2027684

>>Where she lives.
>>How she likes working with the crew.
>>What she hopes to get out of working for you.

Writing.

>>2027661
>Where she lives.
Is she just homeless or what?
>Her opinion on someone. (Say who)
The Yamadas, especially Ryuji. If she doesn't like best boy then she can't be best girl.

>>2027661

"I was wondering how you like working with the crew? You feel okay about the way we operate?"

"I mean, most of them are pussies. But if you like them, then y'know. Whatever. I'm cool with it. Your little friend Alex, though. She's different. She pisses me off. But I gotta respect her. She's got iron in her." She glares at you. "Don't tell her I said that."

You chuckle. "I won't. where you're staying these days. You got some mansion over in Sunset Beach I don't know about? Are you homeless? What's the deal?"

Roxie laughs nervously, an uncharacteristic sound. "Why, what does it matter?"

"I'm just trying to keep track of things," you say, wondering why she's deflecting. "For the team. Make sure everyone's all right, know where I can reach them if I have to. Just let me know someplace I can find you, that's all."

"Aha, yeah ... about that ..." You glance around to see her looking away, glowering. "I was hoping to bring that up at some point tonight, but uh, it feels awkward this way ..."

"What's awkward?" you ask, puzzled.

"Well, you see, I had this place up in Princeton, but there was a -- what do you call it? -- an incident? And uh. Now I don't have a place in Princeton anymore. So. Um." Roxie puts on her front again. "I'm crashing here, all right? That's how it is, so you better deal with it. Also, I gotta know when you're doing a proper job again."

"What do you mean a "proper job"? That thing with ramming a van into the FBI office wasn't enough for you?"

"I mean I gotta make some fucking money, Johnny," she hisses. She tugs way too hard at a stitch.

"Shit, ease up there!"

"Sorry. I -- I just -- I was hoping we'd do another job like the Dragon's Nest shit. Like a heist. I didn't get in on that. You guys are rich and I'm -- well --" She stops and gathers herself. "Fights aren't enough right now. I really need a job that pays, and pays good."

Hmmm.

About staying at your place:
>It's cool. Take your pick of guest rooms.
>All right, but we gotta set some ground rules.
>Not happening. You'll trash the place, or get me raided by the cops.

About the money, and the job:
>Let me guess -- you owe someone. Who is it?
>I'll just give you some money. Call it a salary.
>I'm down. Let's plan something tomorrow to get some money.
>I'll think about the job. I got a lot of things to consider.
>No dice. I've got bigger priorities on the line.

>>2027782
>>It's cool. Take your pick of guest rooms.
>I'm down. Let's plan something tomorrow to get some money.

>>2027782
>All right, but we gotta set some ground rules.
>I'm down. Let's plan something tomorrow to get some money.

>>2027782
>All right, but we gotta set some ground rules.
>You're not the last person who's going to crash here after all
>I'm down. Let's plan something tomorrow to get some money. I'll talk to Cat and see if she's got a place that has a lot of cash and needs hitting

>>2027782
>It's cool. Take your pick of guest rooms.
>I'm down. Let's plan something tomorrow to get some money.

>>2027788
>>2027789
>>2027790
>>2027792

>>It's cool. Take your pick of guest rooms ...
> ... but we gotta set some ground rules.
>I'm down. Let's plan something tomorrow to get some money.

Writing.

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>>2027782

"First, about staying at my place. It's cool. You can take your pick of the guest rooms. If I need to I'll set some ground rules, but we'll come back to that later. For now just, you know. Behave yourself. Right?"

"Right," Roxie says. She wipes off her hands, then tousles your hair . "All done."

"Thanks," you say, trying futilely to look over your own shoulder to see the results of Roxie's stitching. "Oh, and by the way. You're not the first person who's crashing here. Probably not the last either, actually. I don't think you've met the twins? There's two scamps who sometimes show up, use the beds, and eat half the food in my fridge."

Roxie makes a face. "Kids?"

"They're not like regular kids. You'll probably like them, actually. Anyway, about the job -- I'm down."

She looks wary for a moment. "Oh yeah? What's the catch?"

"No catch. You'll get a fighter's cut, same as me or Alex. Let's plan something tomorrow to make some bank. I'll call Cat and see if she has anything on the line. Someplace that has a lot of cash."

Roxie jumps off the couch to the floor. She looks you over, searching for the lie, not finding any. A light grows in her eyes. "You serious? You're actually gonna do it?"

"Sure I am."

"A-and I get a full cut? Just like you?"

"Yep."

"Fuck yeah!" Roxie throws her arms around your neck, hugging fiercly. You pat her arms awkwardly, still not sure how to return her affections. "Thanks, Johnny," she says, pulling back with a big grin on her face. "This is really gonna help me out. Fuck yes. Where should we hit? A bank? Maybe an armored car? Oh, what about--"

"Tomorrow," you say, raising your hands to subdue her enthusiasm. "Right now I just want an aspirin and a beer, and to watch TV until I'm ready for bed. I promise we'll call Cat and set up a job to make us some cash, but we'll do it tomorrow, after a good night's rest. Okay?"

Roxie sighs and plops herself down on the couch next to you. "Okay," she huffs. Still full of energy even after all that fighting, a surprisingly brutal battle in the Russian slaugherhouse, she crosses and uncrosses her legs, taps her fingers, drums on the coffee table, hums to herself. You sink back on the couch, exhausted, wondering if you've bitten off more than you can chew with your new roommate here. The twins were bad enough, but now this?

(Continued)

>>2027844


Tomorrow is what you said to her, but you can't help thinking about the job either. You turn over different ideas in your head, wondering what could work the best.

You still remember being poor, of course. And your bank account, according to Catherine, still looks pretty big. But -- and here's the thing -- it could always be a little bigger, couldn't it? Possibilities stretch out before you as you realize what you and your friends, all highly skilled in their own fields, could be capable of. Even if it was just you and Roxie working together.

That is one thing you could decide before you talk to Cat, you realize. What kind of scale you're looking at for this job. The goal is to get Roxie paid, right? So there wouldn't be a big difference between a large cut of a smaller job with a hand-picked team, or a smaller cut of a big job where everyone gets involved. Maybe it's better to do a smaller job, get it done, so Roxie can deal with whatever it is that's got her worried. On the other hand, it's hard to resist the temptation of doing something big and crazy.

>Something fast that we can execute right away. Smash and grab on a fat target with you and Roxie. Bring a wheelman and maybe one other person, the right one for the job.


>Something ambitious, with planning. Let's do a proper heist, go for the big money. Scope it out ahead of time, get the whole crew involved, the works.

>>2027849
>Something fast that we can execute right away. Smash and grab on a fat target with you and Roxie. Bring a wheelman and maybe one other person, the right one for the job.

>>2027849
>Something fast that we can execute right away. Smash and grab on a fat target with you and Roxie. Bring a wheelman and maybe one other person, the right one for the job.

>>2027849
>>Something fast that we can execute right away. Smash and grab on a fat target with you and Roxie. Bring a wheelman and maybe one other person, the right one for the job.

>>2027849

This job should be something fast, you think. Something we can come up with and execute right away. Find a fat target, then hit it hard, you and Roxie. Bring a wheelman along and maybe one other person, the right one for the job.

All right, Johnny, you tell yourself. Fair enough you decided that, but now it's time to take your own advice and relax. You can figure this stuff out tomorrow, after you talk to Cat and see what your options are. For now, you just want to watch television.

The black and white movie ends, and the credits roll. Roxie picks up the TV guide magazine on the coffee table and hands it to you, and you flip through it, but there's nothing good on at this hour. You end up zoning out in front of infomercials, men shouting with incredible enthusiasm about knife sets, kitchen gadgets, and household cleaning products.

The sun wakes you up the next morning, still laid out on the couch. A blanket is draped over you, which you don't remember putting there. You smile and, stretching and yawning, get up and head out of the living room. In the guest wing you find one door ajar and, peering in, see Roxie sprawled on top of the bed, snoring quietly. She's still dressed except for her dirty and scuffed boots which lie on the floor. Not wanting to wake her up, you quietly leave.

You head outside into the light of the sunrise, feeling the sun's heat on your bare skin. You smell the morning air, hear the birds singing. Recently you subscribed to a newspaper, and now a boy on a bike throws one in the general direction of your door each morning. You pick up the latest issue off the lawn, then head back inside, scratching yourself.

You make eggs and toast with cheese for breakfast, leaving some extra in case Roxie wants some or the twins suddenly show up, then read the newspaper as you drink coffee, eat, and have a cigarette.

There's an article in the paper about the FBI office hit, but it's relegated to page 6, while the front page is dedicated to a lurid article about a drug deal gone bad that left an alley near Freedom Square looking like a charnel house. Heat City still has plenty of crazy shit going on, even without your help.

As late morning rolls around, you give Catherine a call at her new place on Sunset Beach, and explain the situation to her. "Just a quick smash and grab," you say. "Me and Roxie, maybe one other person, and a driver."

"I shall take my lunch, then have a look over my notes," she says. "I'll call you back later today?"

"Sounds good. Thanks, Cat."

Okay, so you've got some time to kill first. The crime and violence and money, that can come a little later.

>Go shopping for guns. You can never have too many guns.
>Get some stuff to improve your house. The manor still needs improvement.
>Watch TV. Catch up on your cartoons.
>Wait for Roxie to wake up, or the twins to arrive.
>Give someone a call. (Say who)
>Write-in.

>>2027890
>Get some stuff to improve your house. The manor still needs improvement.

>>2027890
>Go shopping for guns. You can never have too many guns.
I want so many guns that we can use them as cover, damn it.

>>2027890
>Get some stuff to improve your house. The manor still needs improvement.

>>2027893
>>2027917

The marshland manor could be something great. You have big plans for the place. But it still needs a lot of work, and a lot of the modern conveniences necessary in this fast-moving world of the 1980s.

You get in the big Toyota and head down to the MegaMart. Your arm doesn't work so great right now after getting meat hooked by the butcher, but you figure you'll make the acne-faced kids who work at the furniture store earn their minimum wage by carrying the stuff out to your truck.

Last time you got some nice bedding, decor, and electronic gadgets for the guest rooms, and some cameras and monitors to get a good view of the exterior of the manor. This time ...

Choose 2:

>Crime Office
>Your Room
>Living Room + Kitchen
>Bar + Lounge
>Garage
>Gun Workshop
>Armory
>Gym
>Training Ground
>Garden
>Spare room (Say what to turn it into)

>>2027920
>Gun Workshop
>Garden

>Gun Workshop
>Gym

>>2027920
>Gun Workshop
>Crime Office

>>2027920
>Gun Workshop
>Garage
we are only as good as our tools are. That and i want to prepare the truck to be retrofitted as a technical should the need arises.

>>2027920
>Gun Workshop
>Gym

>>2027920
>Gun Workshop
>Garage

>>2027920
>>Gun Workshop
>>Gym

>>2027920
>Gun Workshop
>Garage

>>2027920
>>Gun Workshop
>>Gym

>>2027920
>Gun Workshop
>Garage

>>2027920
>>Gun Workshop
>Gym

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>>2027955
>>2027979
>>2027985
>>2028487
>>2028510


>Gun Workshop
>Gym

I'd better call this before we get tied again.

The bad news is I can't say when I'll be able to update this thread -- probably not until tomorrow. The good news it's because tonight I'm running a special Spooky Spectacular Halloween edition of Overwatch Quest. It should start in about 7 hours from this post.

Stay tuned to my twitter or discord for more info:
>>2027201

>>2028534
Sorry I haven't been able to return to this thread, my thug bros. Life happened this week. I have plans for our "Get Roxie Money" heist to take place in our next thread, which will be as soon as possible. Thanks for your patience, and stay thug.

>>2038100
looking forward to it Raven, just finished reading the archives definitely favorite quest currently running, you do great writing