File: CofD_DarkEras_character_s(...).pdf (2.66 MB, PDF)

2.66 MB PDF

Archieve: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Princess%20Principal

Twitter: https://twitter.com/fakeqmname

And am I missing anything else? No? Probably? Likely.

>>2658234
>>... You didn't expect scouting for real estate could be so dangerous.

>>2658234
>... You didn't expect scouting for real estate could be so dangerous.

You mentally mark that this abandoned building is in an utterly horrendous state of disrepair and that scouting real estate was unexpectedly dangerous. At least in the mundane sort of way, you were anticipating the people being trouble variety. Hm, it might explain why there's nobody even squatting here. In any case, you get off your bum and start heading to the exit as you had enough of this place already. You go about unlocking the door and as you pull, you felt an alerting shock through your spine. A quick examination of the door reveals the hinges are no longer correctly bolted to the wall. It would be nice to not have the door fall on top of you, thank you very much.

Instead, you move to a side and then pull on the door, allowing the floor to take the brunt of being smashed. With that obstacle out of the way, you head out of this place.

The fresher cold ocean air greets you as you return to the outside as some teenagers and children run right to left of the mostly empty street. Above, cloudy and smoggy, per normal. Well, time to return to London proper, you had enough searching for estates of worth, by which you found none. Waste of a time off.

…

After a train ride and walking back, you come home to your warehouse office to find a person occupying your swivel chair. A prompt turn around, it's that girl Ange and upon seeing your face she throws a small purse that you quickly catch. “Work.” She curtly says.

A much better greeting that being pointed by a gun. “And nice to see you too, Miss Ange.” You do a toss of the purse in the air and estimate it a good haul going by the weight alone. “So?” You imply for her to continue explaining the details.

“A simple distraction mission. I hope you'll dress nicely for a party.” Sounds too easy.

Cont.

>>2658518

“What's the real job, Miss Ange? A simple distraction for this much seems very unlikely.” You ask cautiously as you close the door and move to your wardrobe to check your clothing options.

She turns the chair incrementally to you as she answers, “I suppose it would be a long mission and quite likely that you would need to enamor yourself to a certain person of value. Oh, and he's is not to be harmed.”

He, as in HE, so a homosexual male. Ah, that's quite something of a rarity. And you assume that Ange's little group does their thing behind the scenes, you get the picture. What to do...

>More details, always more details. You aren't going to say no to money, hell you may find some workaround to not being the seducer.
>Hahahaha, no. You're not seducing a man. Even as MANLY as you, you're not that Greek manly or into that sort of thing.
>Yeah whatever, you'll do it. Even if she's lying, or not, you're in.
>Can you bring friends? Are sure that there are some closet guys among your group.
>Write-in.

>>2658521
>>Hahahaha, no. You're not seducing a man. Even as MANLY as you, you're not that Greek manly or into that sort of thing.

>>2658521
>Hahahaha, no. You're not seducing a man. Even as MANLY as you, you're not that Greek manly or into that sort of thing.
Good to see you back, OP.

>>2658521
>Hahahaha, no. You're not seducing a man. Even as MANLY as you, you're not that Greek manly or into that sort of thing.

You set down your holster in one of the shelves before turning to Ange with a stone face, eyes of dullness, and shake your head no to the job while you toss back the coin purse back to her hand. You're not an ancient Greek Athenian or into that sort of thing. She then quickly unhumorously declares, “That was a lie.”

A poor one at that, not funny at all, “That's not a nice lie to say, Miss Ange. Or as you attempting to direct me into not accepting the job?”

“A simple test of character.” The underage spy answers back, during which you hear the jingle of the coins thrown back over your shoulder and into one of your empty holsters. “So there are things you won't do. That'll do. Tomorrow, pick us at our school at five PM. We'll talk more later.”

You turn around as she gets up and heads out to the exit, saying, “You know I haven't agreed to this.”

Turning her head slightly to you, “Oh, have something to do tomorrow night?”

You know the answer is a no and tell it as such, “No, but that's not the issue.”

It's the details and you know she knows that's the concern you have. “I did tell the truth when I said we need you for a distraction purpose. It's something you can do quite easily. All you need to do is talk to someone of high importance. At most, it's only for an hour. Maybe it'll be worthwhile in other aspects to meeting the noble class.”

>Sure, you'll accept being a conversationalist for a time. Pray there be food and drink.
>You'll do it if you can bring associates along. Partly to teach and also to not be bored out of your mind with mingling with snobby assholes.
>Still no. Write-in for reasons why or leave it blank for no reason at all.
>Write-in. Ask questions, talk about something else, etc.

>>2658750
>Sure, you'll accept being a conversationalist for a time. Pray there be food and drink.

>>2658750
>>Sure, you'll accept being a conversationalist for a time. Pray there be food and drink.

File: Spoiler Image (704 KB, 600x750)

704 KB PNG

>>2658750
>>Sure, you'll accept being a conversationalist for a time. Pray there be food and drink.

Remember our true goal, Anons!
Threesome with Ange and Charlotte!

File: Stanley_Steamer_1-1480x983.jpg (221 KB, 1480x983)

221 KB JPG

>>2658750
>Sure, you'll accept being a conversationalist for a time. Pray there be food and drink.

You give a look at one of your nicer garments that should do for the job, black coat and pants, white shirt, ones with many pockets to hide your special items just in case. Talking shouldn't be a challenge with the right mood. Not like you have any plans. “Then I'll see you all tomorrow. Tell the Princess I give my regards.”

Wordlessly, Ange takes her leave and you go about the rest of your night in peace.

…

Your daily routine goes on as normal, nothing major that needs your full focus, allowing you plenty of time to dress up and smell like a snob and to prepare for unforeseen events. As a true gentleman, you arrive ten minutes early at the Mayfaire Academy, waiting in the best noticeable position you could park among many other vehicles. An estimated twenty you guess. Must be some party if they're allowing in children of nobles to come.

While most steam cars here are rather common bland black, there's a few noticeably fancier and finely crafted flowery transportation choice for the rich. Of the bunch, some look like road hazards that you certainly do not want to be behind or near. Finishing your examination of the automobiles, your attention diverts to the drivers. Most are clothed enough that they're fine for chauffeur duty, but no doubt they won't be allowed into the establishment. Aside from yourself, you count at least eight others dressed in tuxedos and are armed with some defensive tool.

Right about when you reach for your pipe, you spot an old comrade, Pixy. Seems like he's doing some taxiing of rich teens today.

>Go over and have a chat with your buddy, you have some time and it shouldn't take long to ask him a few things.
>Properly stay at your spot so that you greet her Highness and her compatriots as you should do.
>Toss a bullet over at him and get him to notice you. (Choose one below)
>>Just give him a wave to let him know you're here.
>>Have him come over to talk to you.

>>2659333
>>Toss a bullet over at him and get him to notice you. (Choose one below)
>>>Just give him a wave to let him know you're here.

>>2659387
>>2659333
I'll back this

>>2659333
>>Toss a bullet over at him and get him to notice you. (Choose one below)
>>>Just give him a wave to let him know you're here.

Hadn't expected to see this quest again. Happy to see it again though.

File: Princess_Principal_15.jpg (1.5 MB, 1920x1911)

1.5 MB JPG

>>2659333
>Toss a bullet over at him and get him to notice you.
>Just give him a wave to let him know you're here.

Now, you don't wish to move away from your car and possibly miss out on honoring the Princess and her friends. Additionally, you don't want him to be unaware of your presence, that would be rude and also you may meet or surprise him at some other point. Or maybe not, you haven't done any foreseeing recently to date. Either way, you do some calculations before tossing a .455 cartridge above the heads and roofs so that it may land safely on Pixy's scarf.

You see him jolt in surprise before he scans the area where on making eye contact, you give him a wave to know you're present and he waves back which changes to brief a middle finger. You continue on your smoke break in peace when groups of regally dressed girls and uniformed boys come heading over to their rides.

Soon enough, your wards come and you greet them appropriately by opening the doors to their seats, “Your Highness, Miss Ange, Dorothy, Miss Beatrice, Miss Todo.”

“And good evening Browning, Sir. Nice to see you well again.” Princess Charlotte greets with a bow prior to entering. That's the only greeting you get as the rest fold in, with Ange taking shotgun for some reason.

Taking your position, you automatically head out the premises before asking Ange, “Could you kindly inform me where to go? I am certain you never said the destination, Ange.”

“The Duke of Normandy's villa. Do you know the way?” A dangerous place all told.

And you soon get the feeling of who you'll need to deal with. “More or less.”

Now it'll won't be a long drive but you can make conversation if you wish.

>Write-in. Questions, small talk.
>Let the dice do the talking? Why? Make it so.
>Ask if you should wear your contacts or eye patch, what looks better in their eyes.

>>2660424
>>Let the dice do the talking? Why? Make it so.

Surely dice are better at conversation than me.

>>2660424
>Let the dice do the talking? Why? Make it so.

How hard is small talk? Eh, you'll see.

1d20+2, 16+ are your success numbers.

Rolled 16 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>2660951
Here goes nothing.

Rolled 16 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>2660424
I think it ate my dice

>>2660424
>Dice! Success 16+2 (2)

“Is it not over my head to presume that I will be required to parlay with the Duke for a length of time?” You ask Ange to be sure.

“Hm. You would make a natural Black Lizard resident.” Ange answers back.

Uh, huh? “Is that suppose to be a compliment from you to me?”

“Yes. Don't worry, I'll tell you when to meet him. He should be arriving late for this party. You'll have plenty of time to enjoy the party as you wish. Oh, by the way, about her Highness-”

“Yes, yes, protect her. She'll be safe as can be.” You're still bound to her and the old events of the past. “Though I'm sure she can handle a social event more than me. Also, what's the occasion?”

For whatever reason, as Ange answers you, she opens up the passenger compartment where an extra revolver, ammunition, aid kit, and miscellaneous papers are stored. Sure she doesn't take anything, but that's a rather alarming thing to do without speaking to you about it. “The normal affair of meetings of people in power, only with children joining in. Nothing you need to deeply concern yourself unless you're making a play.”

Incidentally, you had made a play with the whole taking of a warehouse, which you still don't recall entirely. “Well, maybe I will. Then I assume everyone will have their fun tonight. Just to be clear, are there things you don't want me to do?”

“Hm, start a massacre, reveal your true intentions or allegiance, endanger the Princess, set fire to the building-” You halt Ange from listing any more semi-outrageous actions.

“I get the idea. Be a normal public figure with a shady past and plans. Got it. Your faith in me is extraordinary.” You reply sarcastically as you come to a stop on the road due to traffic. Hm, now that you think about it, you haven't put on your contact yet. Being now a good time as ever, you input the anti-cavorite quickly and without complications.

Then on, you remain silent as does the rest of the girls except for one whisper from Beatrice, “Are they getting along?”

…

Cont.

>>2661513

After the minor events of entering the compound and parking and being separated from her Highness and the others, you arrive inside to a familiar ballroom albeit somewhat laid out differently this time and the party has already for the adults in the room with champagne and small delicacies being served. You immediately eye the surroundings nobles and foreigners, all mingling in groups of at least four, not counting guards or servants.

To no surprise, you find that House Wellington at a side table, all together your mother included plus your cousin and her friend. They seem to be enjoying themselves. Moving onward, businessmen, nobles, etc. etc. Musicians. Oh, oh, oh! Those twins from that train empire! You're getting shivers down to all three of you to the core even though they're dressed differently. Well, least they haven't spotted you.

Elsewhere, more people you're not familiar with. Then a certain section is occupied by the Queen and her descendants, royals and certain people only. Ange and the rest are nearby but are off at their section of wall. The host himself, has yet to appear.

So, what to do...

>Get drunk. Why? Why not? Let there be drink and food!
>Rejoin Ange and the team. No particular reason. Unless you do. (Optional write-in)
>Say hi to the family. Maybe hug Mother. That's not weird ain't it?
>Do some personal eavesdropping and scouting. Understand some people's problems.
>Write-in.

>>2661519
>>Say hi to the family. Maybe hug Mother. That's not weird ain't it?

Saying hello is what normal, well adjusted people do right?

>>2661519
>>Say hi to the family. Maybe hug Mother. That's not weird ain't it?

>>2661519
>Say hi to the family. Maybe hug Mother. That's not weird ain't it?

You mosey your way to the space your House occupies, absolutely calm outside while confused internally. This will be.. okay? It all ended okay the previous time you encounter your kin. The main branch, not counting your cousin while you were off that one bit of business. Oh wait, you sorta disappeared after the whole stealing a ship thing. Right, that never did get concluded.

“Son?” Your Mother's voice grabs your attention plus everyone else.

Your memory doesn't fail you in addressing those present, “Uh, evening mother. And Grandpa, Grandma, Cousin Anne, Uncle Charles, Aunt Lilian.” You awkwardly stare at your Mom and sorta open up your arms for a hug with major uncertainty.

It goes away when bringing you into her arms and holds you very close, her very flowery perfume rubs over your nose. She's very warm. “Son!” She then pulls you away with a frown on her face, “Where did you run off to? You didn't call or write or send any messages. If we didn't know better, you were just imagination we all saw.”

“Ah, I had other important appointments that need my attention. Sorry, but I am an adult in the view of the law. And you're fine with the family... right? And I think I gave you all my used name. I'm sure you could have looked me up.”

“Arthur Hamilton Wellesley! I ask for some forgiveness for not remembering the name I didn't give you but don't you ignore family anymore, you hear me? Our family has lost too much.” She mumbles something before raising her voice to an audible tone. “I want you to keep in touch, understand me? At least, try to. Am I clear on the matter?”

Still, you don't rightly understand what to say or do, other than a polite, “Uh, yes mum.”

To that, she smiles and hugs you again, “Good. Now come over here son, tell us all of yourself. Explain your appointments.”

Uh...

>Conveniently mention that you should go over to Princess Charlotte as this was only supposed to be a greeting. You know, do your job of protecting her Highness from harm and also preparing to speak to the Duke of Normandy.
>Stall talk your way to victory! Socialize, hopefully not poorly.
>Recount your adventure of meeting Sherlock Holmes and make up some lies on how that was possible. Oh, wait, your cousin. Uh, hope she keeps quiet?
>... … …. Yeah, you'd rather not talk about yourself, ask about their lives. What sort of problems are they having? (Optional write-in questions)
>Legitimately recall details of your time in Africa.
>>Lie so much that it sounds real.
>>Do not lie nor hide your ever slight animosity of both the Republic and the Kingdom. Fuck ups.
>Write-in.

>>2661761
>>Stall talk your way to victory! Socialize, hopefully not poorly.
>>Recount your adventure of meeting Sherlock Holmes and make up some lies on how that was possible. Oh, wait, your cousin. Uh, hope she keeps quiet?

We should have just grabbed one of the girls to make small talk, it's not like they do much anyways.

>>2661780
Supporting this.

Time for Dice, 1d20, no + due to lying and other events out of your control.

Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>2661830

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>2661830

>2661761
>Stall talk your way to victory! Socialize, hopefully not poorly.
>Recount your adventure of meeting Sherlock Holmes and make up some lies on how that was possible. Oh, wait, your cousin. Uh, hope she keeps quiet?

Gently, you're pushed to the inner circle by your mom and are greeted by your relatives with some vigor. You formulate some fast inoffensive or revealing things so you can come up with lies to tell later. Not the best way to stall but it should work, “Ah, recently I had taken an illness. I only recovered a few days ago.”

“How long were you sick? Was it something horrible?” You Uncle inquires a bit too energetically.

“It was only a cold, only took a week out of me. I'm fine now. Honest. Otherwise, I wouldn't have come.” Your mother grips your right shoulder tightly for a moment before letting go and remaining quiet.

Grandfather is the next to comment, “That is good to hear. You should be careful. How busy where you? I've been hearing how overworking yourself can lead to sickness.”

“There might be truth to that. Now that I think about it, a few days after a job, I had fallen sick.”

“Nothing stressing or strenuous I hope.” Mother retorts with full awareness that that didn't occur.

But, it does lead you to your next story, one you formulate on the go, “Ah, well, I have to say that did not happen, mother. Though it is an interesting tale as I met the detective Sherlock Holmes. Have you heard of the man?” The question sparks deep though among everyone there.

However, it's Anne that speaks up, “Holmes? That eccentric detective? A rather obnoxious personality and solved numerous cases. That Sherlock Holmes? How do you know him?”

Well...

>”He's my neighbor. Kinda.” You did buy that room next to his, but you just haven't gotten used to the idea of sleeping there. Something you may or may not change. Either way, you have a safe house. Onward to lying!
>Tell them on how that night you were minding your own business when you were attacked from a degenerate and that led a chain of events to meeting Holmes and him figuring things out. Also, conjoin with the Princess being on the front page that one time. Excellent! A tale of truths and lies.
>Your senses are tingling. You feel the presence of someone, someone... oh it's just Holmes sulking around for some reason. Maybe introduce him to the family and make sure he's informed of your lies. Like the paper, filled with lies.
>You have a sudden feeling of regret. Regret? Regret. Not from your words but something of times past. You should turn around.

>>2662168
>>Tell them on how that night you were minding your own business when you were attacked from a degenerate and that led a chain of events to meeting Holmes and him figuring things out. Also, conjoin with the Princess being on the front page that one time. Excellent! A tale of truths and lies.
But mid-story:
>>Your senses are tingling. You feel the presence of someone, someone... oh it's just Holmes sulking around for some reason. Maybe introduce him to the family and make sure he's informed of your lies. Like the paper, filled with lies.

>>2662168
>>2662176
Holmes must be in disguise or something. Maybe it's this French thing they call "camouflage".

>>2662168
>Lies!
>Oh and there's Holmes.

You form the story of the night you were minding your own business when you were attacked by a degenerate cloaked in the shadows. You, being a trained infantryman, chased after him. Not entirely a smart move on your part but you could not be helped it. Furthermore, they multiplied and had their own transportation. That predicament was amended when you borrowed your Cousin's vehicle who you so graciously thanks. Anne and Napoleon merely nod and stay quiet, neither a good or bad sign, but one you'll take it.

After a not so gentle ride, the fiends crashed their vehicle at a closed construction road, definitely not your insane gun slinging skill. From there on, you try to contact the authorities when Sherlock Holmes just so happen to be in the area doing his an investigation that incidentally connect to your semi-outrageous chase.

As you're about to continue, you have this sensation befall your back, making the hairs stand up. Something is happening. You give an excuse that you want a drink, one that's shut down by getting a servant to go do it, but it allows you the time to turn your head and spot Holmes bring partially dragged by another man that is dragged by a woman to an entourage. Curious. And you haven't had contact with him after meeting him at his dwellings.

Perhaps that should be amended, in addition, he should know your lying ways in case he's questioned. You let out a low whistle before saying, “I believe that Holmes fellow is here right now. Uh, I do sort of need to greet my acquaintance as it has been a while since I saw him, much like you all. I'll be back.” You know that your mother is slightly upset about your leave but it seems most are amicable.

Bypassing the wandering servants and whatnot, you're only ten feet away from Holmes when he suddenly turns to face you with a glass of cider in hand and what you perceive as a foul mood or aura. That slightly changes when he sees you. “Just the man I need to see.” He mouths and turns to his party members, “I don't mean to interrupt Mr. and Mrs. Watson and Baron but I have someone to speak to. Excuse me.” Not even waiting for a reply, Holmes backs away and pushes you to a quieter section of the ballroom near the entrance, the farthest one can be from the musicians and the people.

Cont.

>>2662945

The detective finishes his cider, leaving it at some table and picking up another one and raising it to you, “And to what do I owe the pleasure of being rescued from high-class boredom, Mr. Browning? It's been some time has it not?”

You give a nod and pick up a cider of your own, raising it to him and the two of you both down it in a second. “Indeed. Well, I was ill with a cold, now I'm fine. Currently, I find myself here with my family over there and keeping a watch on her Highness. The Princess can easily handle herself I gather, while family matters is a bit beyond my normal expertise. What about you? Hows your evening?”

“Hmmm.” He smiles somewhat cockily before changing back to his usual stoic face, “As for the reason of me being here, an old friend invited me to this collective mass of wealth so that I may get some fresh air. The lack of work also... bothers me. Nothing interest of late. It stagnates my mind, solving common problems.” A bit high horse of an opinion.

Though it begs the question, “Holmes, do you leave your room often when not on a job?”

“No, I hadn't left my room since... oh say since you came to visit.” Okay... you hoped he bathed. “Now, Mr. Browning, anything interesting on your end?”

“Ah, I'm lying about how we met to my family since the question of why I haven't been in contact with them came up. I thought I should let you know.”

“Oh, marvelous. May I ask why?”

>”I have no idea, right tell. But I'm spinning the story to be more plausible and in line with the papers. That fair? Care to meet House Wellington?”
>”Hm, so that they may not know how much of a mercenary bastard I am? Just a theory. So about this lie...” Formulate a standard story for you and Holmes. A perfect story!
>”I don't rightly know. Should I tell the truth, the facts? It'll probably scare the hell out of them knowing my actions. But what do I care? I am me.” Screw lying, tell them of your horrible magnificent achievements, at least some of them.
>Write-in.
>... You're interrupted by a glove to the back of the face. Back of the face? No, it's the rear of your head. Either case...

>>2662949
>>”I don't rightly know. Should I tell the truth, the facts? It'll probably scare the hell out of them knowing my actions. But what do I care? I am me.” Screw lying, tell them of your horrible magnificent achievements, at least some of them.
>... You're interrupted by a glove to the back of the face. Back of the face? No, it's the rear of your head. Either case...

>>2662949
>>”I don't rightly know. Should I tell the truth, the facts? It'll probably scare the hell out of them knowing my actions. But what do I care? I am me.” Screw lying, tell them of your horrible magnificent achievements, at least some of them.
>>... You're interrupted by a glove to the back of the face. Back of the face? No, it's the rear of your head. Either case...

>>2662949
>”I don't rightly know. Should I tell the truth, the facts? It'll probably scare the hell out of them knowing my actions. But what do I care? I am me.” Screw lying, tell them of your horrible magnificent achievements, at least some of them.
>... You're interrupted by a glove to the back of the face. Back of the face? No, it's the rear of your head. Either case...

You haven't a clue as to a solid why. Perhaps you were just cautious, though, for what reason, you can't pinpoint. Either they accept you, or reject you, it matters not, you are an adult and have already taken care of yourself to the best of your abilities. “I don't rightly know, Mr. Holmes. For the life of me, I do not know. I suppose I should tell them the truth? Given the facts, it'll likely scare the hell out of them, all the stuff I have done. But what do I care? I am me.”

You feel a bit energized coming to terms with whatever you were having, the fancy word, hm, eh, problem. “Not afraid of being rejected?” To Holmes' question, you shake your head.

“Not really. I think I was more confused on what to do. I'm not so much a family person if it wasn't obvious enough. What about y-” As you're about to ask Holmes' family situation, a clothed object impact the back of your head. Upon retrieving it, it's a striped black and white glove but the intent is clear. This person has a terrible sense of fashion sense, not that you're better.

Facing the person that dared challenge you, the man is a 5'8'' bearded fellow, tarnished brown hair, some gaunt cheeks, partially bloodshot brown eyes and a mild stench of liquor. He's not someone you recognize. Rather than address him, you just kinda stare at him and wait for him to do the talking. For a few awkward seconds on his part, he eventually speaks up, “You, you remember me?”

You tilt your head in thought, then answer, “No. Never seen you before.”

“Wha? Oh, right, uh, w-what about the people behind me?” You stare at the void space that is air and shake your head.

“I don't see anyone behind you.”

“No one?” The drunk looks to his empty left and right, drooping his shoulders in disappointment and then steeling himself. “Well, coward boys. Either way, you beat up on some kids, and they paid me to teach you how to really fight. Come on, duel, right here, right now. Er, outside. I think that's what they said.”

You glance over to Holmes and he offers to input other than a shrug. So...

>Ask the man to tell the kids to man the fuck up if they want a retry on getting their asses handed to them.
>>DO IT LIVE. RIGHT HERE. After you're sure to get the Duke's attention and a pass from Ange.
>>Outside it shall be. Shouldn't take more than five minutes.
>Ask for a reschedule, you're busy right now.
>Rejected. Give the man a drink and let him be on his way. You, on the other hand, have family matter to attend to.
>Punch the man in the throat and make a hasty escape by claiming the man passed out.
>Write-in.

>>2663455
>Ask the man to tell the kids to man the fuck up if they want a retry on getting their asses handed to them.

File: 1507908259304.jpg (101 KB, 370x600)

101 KB JPG

>>2663455
>>>DO IT LIVE. RIGHT HERE. After you're sure to get the Duke's attention and a pass from Ange.

>>2663455
>Ask the man to tell the kids to...
>DO IT LIVE.

A fight? A fight. A fight so shall cometh to those that seek it. And damn, you 're feeling the bloodlust. “Well, you tell those dumb kids to man it up and take their beatings instead of hiring someone else to fight. No offense if they did pay you, it just doesn't seem worth it. Hell, tell them I'll fight them right here in the room for everyone to see. You want to fight me then, then I'll take it up then. Otherwise-” You toss back the glove to his chest, “forget it.”

Instantly after you finish your declaration, the man shoves the glove back at your chest before staggering away, “I'll bring those bellyachers yous, bah. Fucking rich bitch.”

That went as you wanted, the future of violence! Oh, you need to run this with Ange, see if she can time whatever her end right plus the Duke, you shouldn't forget. You focus back to Holmes and give him a small grin, “I appear to have done something ungentlemanly. I best prepare for the confrontation, I must be off. I'll speak to you sometime in the future, Detective. Enjoy the party.”

His face shows a mild amusement and at the same time a little dissatisfaction as he walks away, “Try not to die or kill anyone.” Abruptly he stops and turns back to you, “You don't mind if I made a bet?”

You fake a scoff and smile, “Just make sure you win.” And you both go your separate ways.

…

Ange has her usual sober face when you explain your actions and intentions, but you can feel that she's not happy about the predicament you set up. If she's upset, you can already imagine how the others would feel if you told them. “Make sure it's long and don't kill anyone.” That's the approval! You only need one more...

The Duke himself has an eerily similar facade when you mention that you require some time and space for the fight. You do apologize to him in advance and for the fight the last time you came here. Hm, maybe it'll be a replay with a twist. He is impassive when he gives his approval and mentions that he will be watching you carefully.

Easy as can be. You get a time for the event and everything will go according to plan. Now...

>Somehow break the message that you'll be fighting some people that aren't very nice to you to your family.
>Make yourself scarce, it'll be a surprise to everyone!
>>Mediate or some shit. Maybe get something to eat.
>>The Spice must flow...
>>Aw, you're feeling it, you're feeling the burn! War has never been so much fun. WWWAAAGGGHHH!
>Talk to Princess Charlotte that you'll be doing a rather special, violent spectacle for everyone to see. Also, it's to teach her that some things are both something that you can't back down and utterly incomprehensible to sane people. Like really, these 'men' want to get their asses beat again.
>In the meantime, talk to the Duke if he has any jobs that require some special attention.

>>2664042
>>Talk to Princess Charlotte that you'll be doing a rather special, violent spectacle for everyone to see. Also, it's to teach her that some things are both something that you can't back down and utterly incomprehensible to sane people. Like really, these 'men' want to get their asses beat again.

Teach the princess how to properly humiliate people in front of their peers.

>>2664042
>>Talk to Princess Charlotte that you'll be doing a rather special, violent spectacle for everyone to see. Also, it's to teach her that some things are both something that you can't back down and utterly incomprehensible to sane people. Like really, these 'men' want to get their asses beat again.

>>2664042
>Talk to Princess Charlotte...

The Princess and the Royals have finished their main social duties and have parted their stiffer company, letting you the opportunity to reconvene with Charlotte and tell her of your recent actions. For better or worse, you think. Ange and the rest have filtered to their own different points, so it's only you and her Highness. Your initial telling has left her in a bothered mood.

“A fight? Couldn't you settle with a less violent method?” You do a good ponder to her question.

Why, yes, you could choose to avoid or placate or a different approach. In the end, you didn't. “Your Highness, there are times that people, men, women, and who have you, refuse to back down and you will have to deal with them. Negotiate, trample them, the choices are many, most of the time not ideal or practical. Some may be swayed by simple words or speeches, others violence. But sometimes you cannot convince a person to see your view. Sometimes it makes sense, different times it's incomprehensible to sane minds or thinkers. Like to me, these 'men' want to get their asses beat again. Sure they're willing to hire muscle, damn brats, but so be it. When it comes down to it, I've seen people understand these fundamentals, violence, fear, and love. I do believe that those with enough intelligence those three are universally understood quickly. There's also humiliation and confusion but that's unreliable, useful, but unreliable.”

She's quiet for a moment, taking in all you said. Once she's come to a conclusion, she turns to you determined, “Browning, I don't want to make more enemies.”

To that, you simply nod, “I know, Princess. But you need to think of options that aren't peaceful and follow through with it. Not everyone will roll over like a dog begging to be petted. Not everyone wants other people to be equals. That said, take this as a lesson about failure. Failure, while you might learn, it can be a very, very, heavy price. And it may not be paid by a single person.” You gently rub the area of your left eye and take a look at the clock. It's almost time. “Ah, and enjoy the show, Princess.” You give a soft smile to her before reverting to a professional persona and moving to the Duke's side.

Likewise, the opposition gathers in their own formation, ten, maybe fifteen males, they boys you trashed long ago are at the rear. Figures they wouldn't play fair. Then again you don't if you could.

Once you're at Normandy's side, he signals the musicians to stop play while also making his people getting the arrangements, and begins his speech, “My honor guests, I apologize for interrupting your meetings but there's has been a challenge between to parties. Both sides have agreed to settle it here in this setting and I shall mediate this duel. There will be no deaths allowed, no harm to anyone else but the challengers. Now both sides, step in!”

Cont.

>>2664632

Taking your lone spot, you are faced with six seemingly tough men and five boys, the men at the front while the cowards hide in the rear. “Rather unfair of a fight, wouldn't you say, Mercenary?”

>Then let's make it a little fairer, as you are not going to hold back, even it means being beset by madness. “All of you are going to regret this. NOW COME AT ME.”
>”Then make it one versus one.” Yes, drag it out as long as you can so the spies can do their thing. Besides, you're going to bring the fear into each man and boy.
>Say nothing. Only remove your unnecessary overcoat and very lethal weapons and take your position.
>Joke about getting a second or if anyone else wants to join. Otherwise, get ready to fight.
>Ask for a cane to make this a little bit fairer.

Combat style:
>Boxing, that should do. Best versus a single target.
>Free form, neither holds a direct advantage or disadvantage against enemies, given you have no rules other than DEAL WITH IT.
>Highly Aggressive, ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK!
>Defense, Dodging, and Countering. Self-explanatory.

>>2664632
>>”Then make it one versus one.” Yes, drag it out as long as you can so the spies can do their thing. Besides, you're going to bring the fear into each man and boy.
>Boxing, that should do. Best versus a single target.

>>2664632
>>”Then make it one versus one.” Yes, drag it out as long as you can so the spies can do their thing. Besides, you're going to bring the fear into each man and boy.
>Highly Aggressive, ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK!

>>2664633
>”Then make it one versus one.” Yes, drag it out as long as you can so the spies can do their thing. Besides, you're going to bring the fear into each man and boy.
>Boxing
>Highly Aggressive

“Then make it one versus one. Make is somewhat fair, right? Wouldn't be a show if it ended too fast.” You answer without facing away from your opponents and cowards.

“Hm, this will be by single combat only! No out assistance allowed other than preventing the death of another. As the challenged, he will pick out his opponent.” How unlucky of them. You can see that their plan isn't going as they want, though it remains to be seen if you can win the entire bout. “Well, have at them, mercenary.”

Upon the go-ahead, you point and shout to the rear line, “One of you in the back! I know you cowards hiding back there are the ones that challenged me! Hurry up and pick one! I haven't got all day!” You see the lot scramble to pick the least qualified fighter and shove him out to the slaughter. A once over and you somewhat recall the kid being the coward that ran away the first time.

Soon as you take a fighting stance and have your fists out, the kid crouches down and puts his hands over his head all meek and pathetic. The people are somewhat in disbelief as much as you are. You give roughly thirty seconds for the boy to man up and that doesn't happen. It's a bit agitating now. “Kid, if you don't stand up and take a punch, I will do more painful things to you. Come on, get up.”

Inch by inch, the boy stands up, covering his face with a poor defensive posture and doing his best in not making eye contact with you. Likely so he doesn't piss himself in fear. Well.... uh... now...

>Slap him twice and get on to a real fight.
>This is too pathetic, tell him to run away and never cause trouble again. Hell, anyone that really doesn't want to face can run right now.
>KNOCK OUT PUNCH. MOTHER DIDN'T SAY KNOCK YOU OUT!

Also roll a1d20+2, then a 1d20 in a different post.

Rolled 2 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>2665036
>>This is too pathetic, tell him to run away and never cause trouble again. Hell, anyone that really doesn't want to face can run right now.

Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>2665036
Second roll

Rolled 1 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>2665036
>>KNOCK OUT PUNCH. MOTHER DIDN'T SAY KNOCK YOU OUT!

Rolled 2 (1d2)

1. For being nice
2. Be a dick

>>2665036
>KNOCK OUT PUNCH.

You swat the boy's hands away before delivering a hard knock out blow to his face and watching him collapse like a pile of sticks without so much as a cry. It wasn't special or anything and there's little satisfaction from it. Hell, it felt like you were hitting some thin piece of wood and flesh, yuck. “Someone get this kid out of here. NEXT! In the back.”

One of the men goes ahead and removes the passed out kid from the floor as a bigger and more well-built boy takes his place. This one, you recall being a boxer.

The second you have your fists up, he comes bowling with a flurry of combos, jabs mostly but a few uppercuts as well. You make feeble attempts to dodge left and right as your arms are battered repeatedly by heavy strikes, your left cheek and body still take a couple. The brief minute exchange has your arms burning all over, your cheek sore and bulging, and the teenage fighter out of breath. A quick shot, heh.

You have to admit there's a boxer spirit in him, at least when the oxygen reaches your mind in between millisecond blackouts. Once you get enough breathes in, you charge forward for your attack with all your focus you can muster. A straight right jab, you deflect and grab that arm with your left and pull, putting yourself close to him in doing so. He counters with left haymaker aimed to your face, you deduce you're unable to completely deflect or dodge without giving up you match ending combo and only adjust your upward stance so your shoulder blade and back take the brunt.

However, an opening, you're able to stomp on his forward right foot and leverage being low power your uppercut to his chin. You're not done yet and bring downward elbow his nose in before recovering your arm to your left side. You do more elbow strikes, right jaw, right cheek right eye. It's painful for your right arm, but it's more painful to his face.

Your third assault causes him to kneel down but you have his arm. Finish him how so?

>Dislocate his right shoulder. That'll bring the fear into everyone present.
>Knee his face and knock him out that way.
>Twist his arm and lock it, painfully. Ask if he surrenders.
>Forget it. He's done. Go get some water and rinse your head, then get ready for the next fight. You got more to go.
>Ask the people, thumbs up or thumbs down.
>Write-in.

>>2665566
>Twist his arm and lock it, painfully. Ask if he surrenders.

>>2665566
>Ask the people, thumbs up or thumbs down.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

1.Twist arm
2. Let the people decide

>>2665566
>Twist his arm and lock it, painfully. Ask if he surrenders.

You kick the boxer's right leg to force him to lie down as you leverage his arm upward, pulling his hand back and twist his arm in a painful lock. “Do you give up!? Say it now!” You shout so all can hear.

“Aaaahhh, ffuucckk, I give I give!” You do one last twist before letting his arm loose and you head back to your starting location. Faint drops of blood hit the floor as the boy shuffles away to his compatriots and they go take care of his bloody nose. Meanwhile, a few bystanders give an applause, though you're not sure to who. That aside, people exchange money, lucky bastards.

You flex your pained red arms and rub your puffing cheek for a moment, you've taken several good hits. Nothing crippling but you still have more rounds to go and it only a matter of time before your body fails if it continues taking hits. It would be unbecoming if you failed to at least hold the attention of the Duke long enough for Ange to complete their task. You breathing isn't heavy nor shallow, nothing seems impeded, good.

From behind, the Duke voices his opinion, “Mr. Mercenary, I can very much see you're not in fighting condition. I can allow a break if you need it. Or do you require a second? It would be fair enough for you to ask for some assistance.”

>No, you can't risk him being aware of what's behind scenes. You'll fight on.
>>Finish punishing the weaklings.
>>Fight one of the tough guys.
>Heh, call on Pixy. Have a double fight. That should make things more interesting.
>You can take a ten-minute break, it'll at least stop the pain from being too much of a distraction and it won't be so long that the Duke can waltz away to do business.
>You need just one minute to freshen up. AKA: heal yourself by ingesting some spice into your system.

>>2665811
>You can take a ten-minute break, it'll at least stop the pain from being too much of a distraction and it won't be so long that the Duke can waltz away to do business.

>>2665811
>>You can take a ten-minute break, it'll at least stop the pain from being too much of a distraction and it won't be so long that the Duke can waltz away to do business.

>>2665811
>You can take a ten-minute break...

You take a deep breath and give some thought about resting. Overall, not a bad idea if you don't take too long, good for your bruises, good for taking time. “T-ten minutes. A ten-minute break, is that alright?” You ask, still maintaining a glare at the withering opponents.

“If you believe that's fine for yourself.”

“It'll do.”

“The challenged has requested a break! Men, clean up. This will resume in ten minutes.” On cue you back away and go straight to the nearest unused chair and table. You were planning on recuperating alone as anyone with a sane mind gives you a wide berth, though courage on the Princess's part and familial ties of your kin bring them circling like vultures to you.

“Mr. Browning, are you alright? Do you need anything?” Her Highness offers to which you shake your head.

Next to bother you is your mother, part hysterical and part outraged, she does well in keeping her voice low, “Son! Son, wha-, why are you fighting, I mean, why were you challenged? Does, does it hurt? A doctor, a doctor! Do you need doctor!?”

You do several deep breaths before plainly saying, “I'm still breathing mother, I've had worse.” If you concentrate enough, you can feel your arms and fingers pulsing, yet they do not shake.

“You very well do not look fine, son.” Before your mother continues off she's pulled back by grandmother and your Aunt and they have a private conversation.

In her place, your grandfather picks up a chair and places it next to you and takes a seat, giving a respectful nod to the Princess, then speaking to you, “You were challenged?”

“Yeah, I was. They wanted to fight outside but I arranged for it to be here.” Mustering what energy to spare, you grab another chair across from you and swivel it so her Highness can sit.

“Hmm, if this did happen outside and it was not as it seemed-” You flash the pocket where your pocket pistol is likewise the location of your knife which stops his other questions. “Though I applaud you for standing up for yourself, I cannot condone this part reckless behavior. My Grandson, why fight like this? What compels your actions?”

>You're doing this for, mostly, sport. Fun. You are truly having a grand time right now, even though your face doesn't express it. The adrenaline is very energizing.
>You're just reacting to being challenged. If not now, they'll do something else to you in the future. Best they learn here, while they have the chance to stay conscious. Plus your teaching her Highness about martial arts via spectating.
>Would it be scary to say, nothing is actually motivating you. At your core, you're just moving onward, like a machine. The morons themselves choose their path, and you're only answering to the best of your abilities. In this case, force.
>Write-in.

Persona Shift
>No need.
>Shift to either your more gōng hé Mercenary or Mentat side.

>>2666355
>>You're just reacting to being challenged. If not now, they'll do something else to you in the future. Best they learn here, while they have the chance to stay conscious. Plus your teaching her Highness about martial arts via spectating.
>>No need.

As if these n00bs were worthy of a proper thrashing from Mentat.

>>2666355
>You're just reacting to being challenged. If not now, they'll do something else to you in the future. Best they learn here, while they have the chance to stay conscious. Plus your teaching her Highness about martial arts via spectating.

>>2666355
>You're just reacting to being challenged. If not now, they'll do something else to you in the future. Best they learn here, while they have the chance to stay conscious. Plus your teaching her Highness about martial arts via spectating.
>No need.

Slowly you reach for your pipe case and prepare for a short smoke, thinking of what to say. When you've made up your mind, you eye both her Highness and your grandfather, answering, “I'm reacting to being challenged, sir. If I don't do something now, they'll likely hound me at a later date. It would be better that they learn while in the safety of a public duel. And in part, I am teaching her Highness about martial arts via spectating.” You have the pipe lit up and take a very long inhale and hold it in, warming your lungs.

“Thinking ahead, hm. How do you know if the less will stick to them?” A good question grandfather and you know the answer.

“It is safer to be feared than love if one cannot have both. And sir, I am very capable of bringing fear.” Counting your remaining time, you quench your pipe's fire and do some cleaning before thinking to what you said to Holmes before. While your Mother, Uncle, and Aunt are for whatever reason talking to themselves, your Cousin and Grandmother are not to be seen, you may as well tell your grandfather what you wished to tell the rest of your family. “And, uh, Grandfather, I wanted to tell everyone something about myself.”

He leans forward in his seat, with a skeptical face, “What? What is it? Something more extreme than this?”

You scratch the back of your neck when you answer, “In a way.” You then look around the area for no reason before continuing, “My real job... is being a mercenary. On top of being a warehouse owner.”

Your Grandpa scrunches his face in thought, “Mercenary? Really?”

You sincerely nod, “I speak the truth. Well, it's the reason why I protect the Princess from time to time. And do some outlandish things. I, ah, wasn't sure on how people of high class are to... deal with this sort of profession. I think mother would take issue with it.”

“Take issue? She'd faint! But, but, h-how did this come to pass? W-what things are you doing?” You take a peek at your watch before getting and fortifying yourself for the next round.

“I'll tell my autobiography another time. I promise to tell everything then.” You respectfully nod to both your elder and her Highness and move to your stage.

Cont.

>>2666737

The Duke sees you going back for more and once more signals to his people to begin clearing the area the next battle. “Once more the two parties shall engage in another physical duel!” You take a look at the remaining opponents, their numbers have dwindled two more. You only beat up two of them, then why did two men leave?

That's somewhat interesting development wise. Did they quit? Or are they using the restroom? No matter, you shall deal with it. At the very least the brats have stayed on. You brush over some of your bruised areas, noting they have numbed a bit, nothing too concerning, it shouldn't prevent you from throwing some coordinated punches.

What to do...
Target:
>The true challengers must be punished.
>Fight that drunk guy that was hired to fight you.
Fighting tactic:
>Full assault. Why defend when you can attack quickly enough that the opponent cannot counter. You also have the stamina keep it up too.
>Balance of attack and defense.
>Full defense, buys some time and you can get a feel of your opponent.

>>2666740
>The true challengers must be punished.

>>2666740
>The true challengers must be punished.
>Full Assault.

>>2666740
>The true challengers must be punished.
>Full Assault.

You signal another kid in the back, time for them all to reap what they sowed. Being adolescent and inexperienced, they're really not much of a challenge. Presumably only one of them actually tried improving themselves, credit to him, the others, not so much.

The next kid tries to be fancy like the real from before, except his steps are all wrong and he's slower. You step back, do some sides steps, and let him waste his energy fighting the air and himself. Eventually, you and the audience have enough of the sham, hence you crouch down when he overextends forward with a double jab, you then lay a firm left strike at his abdomen and add a right haymaker into the side of his exposed head. He remains conscious for a moment until at long last he passes out and you not so gently push him off of you and the ground is impacted by his weight. Onto the next one.

...

The new fellow upon entering the arena descends into a prayer, deeply bowing his head, clasping his hands and begging, “Please, please-” You end up planting a heavy kick right at his chest that sends him back a few feet, followed with a slightly gentler down knee to the gut when he's sprawled on the floor. You're are sure all past actions are, at the moment, forgiven. You then get back up and return to your original position for the next bout.

It turns out to be sooner than you expected, you hear the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor behind and on turning you see the last big juvenile charge right at you. He's able to able to get a tackle and grab a hold of your waist, not quite to the point of you losing your balance or lifting you up. Big mistake.

You first bring your fists together smash the spine where the ribs end, it definitely hurt him as much as it hurt yourself as his legs buckle for a second. He soon moves his left hand to power his punch your exposed ribs which you countered by smashing that shoulder blade. His grasp weakens considerably and you shove him to the floor where you then pin his right arm with your legs. As for his other arm, you get a hold of it and push it deep to his neck. Only his legs are free to do something, but you're certain he can't do anything fast enough that not going to end up with you punching his lights out.

“Give up?” You ask to ascertain his disposition on the matter.

He moves his mouth only to try and spit at your face, but only succeeding in getting your hand.

>Twist his hand to cripple it, grab him by his hair and smash his head on the floor.
>>Only enough to make him pass out.
>>MAKE HIM BLEED. This has registered on an emotional level.
>>>If you go too far, you'll offer your first aid kit.
>Punch him. A lot. In the face.
>Move that hand aside so you can place one of your legs on his throat. Slowly choke the air out of him. Yes, he'll live, you'll be sure of it.
>Write-in finisher.

>>2667390
>Twist his hand to cripple it, grab him by his hair and smash his head on the floor.
>Only enough to make him pass out.
>>If you go too far, you'll offer your first aid kit.

>>2667390
>Twist his hand to cripple it, grab him by his hair and smash his head on the floor.
>Only enough to make him pass out.
>>If you go too far, you'll offer your first aid kit.

I wonder if they're still going to try this again some other day.

>>2667390
>Twist his hand to cripple it, grab him by his hair and smash his head on the floor.
>Only enough to make him pass out.

You tighten your grip and pull on the arm close to you, enacting a harsh clockwise force on his hand and counter-clockwise on his wrist, not enough to permanently cripple him. He cries out, “AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! F-” Before he finishes screeching, you toss his hand away and grip his hair and proceed to smash his head against the stonework. THUD, one, THUD, two, THUD, and he's out, mostly. His mouth droops, saliva slowly tickling to his right side and his pupils shrink and being to wander in different directions.

You've dealt with the last real problem child, now just for the paid men. You check his pulse, it's strong enough. Satisfied, you get up, noticing that some of your skin on your hands have been peeled or scratched away and that very tiny droplet of blood are spilling, not to mention the burning and bruises that are acting up. Though you suppose it's what you get for going without protection and for going aggressive. As you cool off, you feel your body shoulder an invisible weight and tiredness creeping on you.

No short break is going to help you out, you need real rest. You examine the crowd to see try to find Ange, Beatrice, Chise, or Dorothy. It's nada. Eyeing back to her Highness, she seems to note what you're looking for and shakes her head. Bah, you'll just have to deal.

It takes a while until someone has the courage to pull the downed kid to the side and get him help. Buys you more time but now, your odds aren't so great. Well, winning that is. You can probably buy enough time, maybe. One, two, three tough men remain. That's not looking good.

>Call for another ten-minute break. It's not going to do you any good fight wise but it still should hold the attention of the Duke and his people. Do a little patching up on your hands. You still need them after all.
>>Take some painkillers while you're at it. Least numb some of the pain.
>FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT. He who fights shall win! The other YOU is more gung-ho about this sort of thing anyway.
>One more fight, you can pull one more fight. Hopefully.
>>You're willing enough to listen to madness to win and to prevent more harm to yourself.

>>2667699
>One more fight, you can pull one more fight. Hopefully.
>Down a shot or three of whiskey first to dull the pain.

>>2667699
>>>You're willing enough to listen to madness to win and to prevent more harm to yourself.

Kid really should have taken his beating earlier.

>>2667900
>>2667729

Do you two mind if I put these together?

Also 2d20s

Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>2667979
Sure thing boss.

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>2667979
Oops meant to roll 2d20

Rolled 3, 12 = 15 (2d20)

>>2667979

Sure

>>2667699
>One more fight, you can pull one more fight. Hopefully.
>Down a shot or three of whiskey first to dull the pain.
>You're willing enough to listen to madness to win and to prevent more harm to yourself.

You could use a cold drink after this, hell, right now. At this point, your fate is clearly determined to thrash you due to your decisions. Well, so long as you completed the mission, you'll be fine. Given the time, you estimate that you need to waste ten minutes for it to be roughly an hour as Ange asked. If you fight for about five minutes, that should do it. Okay, you're getting a bit too thirsty.

You pick out the nearest waiter and point to him, “You waiter, whiskey.”

He stammers, “U-uh yes, sir!” and hurries up to get your order. Likewise, the drunkard pesters someone to get him a drink as well, looks like he really wants a fight. Seems you have no choice really to choose between three men. For all you know, they're of similar physical calibre. Not much time passes when the waiter comes back with a glass and bottle in hand, though he looks confusingly on what to do next.

You then take the bottle from him and roughly gulp down three shot glasses. You think. When you stop, you see that on the other side the man downs half a bottle before coughing like mad and slurring something under his breath. Then you start feeling funny. Like ha ha funny. The pain's mostly dulled but so has your movements.

The strangest thing is, the sounds around you sort of peter away. Slowly, it becomes quiet yet everything still moves. Next, is some weird shit you're hearing inside, “Waz this cowardice fighting pansy here? Uo fooking toufff? Fucking wanna have a go? Poonch like a baby? Cain't taking any steps before falling and wailing? Wah! Wah! Shad up!”

This... may be the first time you've ever only heard one voice dominate that's not YOU. You ponder a little bit and inspect the whiskey bottle. Fuck thinking, you down about two more shots. “Aaaaahhhhh! Hallelujah! Water from the heavens! Yes! Yes! Ah, that's wonderful.” And you hand the bottle back to the waiter and push him away.

Ooookkkkaaaaayyyyy. There's a guy there. He looks tired and drunk. “Oi. Oi. Oi. That fuka over there. Beat him up.”

>Ssssuuurrreee.
>Naaahhhh. Drink some more. More water of the heavens. More.
>WWWWAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!!
>Yous sees many fookkaaasss! Fook them! Mó dá fú kā!

>>2668623
>WWWWAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!!
Blood God etc.

>>2668623
>WWWWAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!!

Is he a lightweight?

WWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH

Initial 2d20+5
Next 2d20+4

Rolled 10, 18 + 5 = 33 (2d20 + 5)

>>2668664

Rolled 20, 11 + 4 = 35 (2d20 + 4)

>>2668664

Rolled 5, 15 + 5 = 25 (2d20 + 5)

>>2668664

Rolled 11, 1 + 4 = 16 (2d20 + 4)

>>2668664

>>2668623

Think kinda blur. Ah, things ware wishy washy. Uh, beep boop bop. Weeeh, you're spinning like at them carnivals, whooo! “Burburin iyaga!” “Hazlos cagar ellos mismos.” “Ceterum censeo Carthaginem esse delendam." "Wez waz 'eres first!” “Once upon a time, I was me!” “Mit meiner Verwandtschaft putzen!”

...

Ah, your head feels like it's been under a whole slew of outside peer pressured that makes undeniable sense, all but a moment. Now, not so much. And you're on the floor with knocked three semi-familiar faces, right, your opponents. They're not doing so great but they are breathing. A most good thing, yes. As for you, you don't appear to have sustained further injuries aside from mental. You slowly feel and stumble your way to standing upright, adjusting yourself as to not lose your balance. Meanwhile, you take a look around at a very quiet ballroom. It's very eerie to be stared at and no one clapping or whispering. A step at a time you stagger over to where you normally start the fights and turn around to be sure there are no more opponents to deal with.

Then you give a confused look to the Duke, as he's not saying what he's supposed to be saying. What the subject is, you have no idea. Finally, he clears his throat and shouts, “I declare the challenged the victor and this event is over! Get those men out of here!” The attendants do their thing and most of the people go into their circles, money changes hands and people begin talking.

You, you just head to the nearest clear chair and sit down, slowly feeling the whole world on your entire being. You. Are. Tired. Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. After several long breaths and the feeling of your heartbeat jumps up, you force your head up and watch as her Highness take a seat next to you. Respectfully you do a sitting bow and then see your family make their to you.

What's the first thing you should do or say?
>Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You wish to blank out for a while.
>”What... what did I do?”
>You may not recall what you were doing, but you remember you were going to tell your family about your origins. Even though it's now evident you're special.
>>All the way, tell the truth.
>>Maybe fudge some facts. Like your eye. And the drugs. And butchering many people.
>Try to really think to what you did. Come on, it's only hard liquor!
>Quickly ask the Princess if Ange and the others are okay.
>You want a room to sleep in. You're just done. That's it. Shows over.
>Write-in.

>>2669023
>Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You wish to blank out for a while.
But first:
>”What... what did I do?”

>>2669023
>”What... what did I do?”
>Quickly ask the Princess if Ange and the others are okay.

>>2669023
>”What... what did I do?”

…
…
…
Ah! You blanked out for a few milliseconds, that's dangerous. What were you doing? What did you do? You rub your eyes before turning to the Princess and inquiring, “Uh, Princess. What... what did I do?”

Your question alerts her Highness as she tries seeking someone out. Failing that, she leans to you with a worried face, “Mr. Browning, are you alright? You don't recall what you did?”

…
…

“... I get that I won, but I don't seem to remember the how part. I think the liquor got to me. I also feel very tired.” … You watch Charlotte's lips move up and down but no sounds come through to you. Though you sense your ears getting the vibrations, the words aren't there. And very slowly your eyes feel like shutting.

When you do shut your eyes, a load of sound comes rushing to you, all sped up but you manage to hear your mother admonishing you and getting hurt, her Highness saying you were incredibly fast and she's honestly couldn't comprehend, Ange and the gang are debriefing their success, the Duke is planning some future events that could involve you.

>Comment that you're going to take a nap. You'll need it.
>Must... Stay awake.
>Switch over to someone not exhausted. YOU or Mentat.

File: focus.gif (2.73 MB, 500x408)

2.73 MB GIF

>>2669251
>>Must... Stay awake.

>>2669251
>>Switch over to someone not exhausted. YOU or Mentat.

1. Stay Awake
2. Persona shift

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>2669633

Derp me

File: 2007305A-B077-4C44-B074-5(...).png (411 KB, 800x1048)

411 KB PNG

How long until we can enjoy some handholding with Ange?

>>2669251

Pull yourself together, you're not submitting! No weakness! No... no... ah. Okay, alright, you'll take it easy, you promise your body that. Some tenseness in your muscles goes out and you can finally see and hear the world around you, albeit with less concentration. “Browning?” Right as you open your eyes and try to say something, you get a twinge from your stomach, an indication you understand that is, I'M HUNGRY.

“I'm... heh, tired... and hungry. Just... what I need to... deal with.” You mutter with varying energy. Realizing this, you may not be able to escort her Highness and the others back. You silently hope that you recover quickly once you've gotten some food and drink (non-alcohol).

Mother soon arrives, in a teeter-tot of worry and anger as she kneels to your side and looks over you. She puts one hand your left and then another on your bulging cheek and sighs, “Son. My son. How are you feeling? You look horrible. Can you walk?”

You test your legs with little flexes, figuring you could stand and probably walk around, it isn't really recommended. “I can... but I'm tired.”

Your nose is then tapped on by mother, “I have many things to say to you, not here. You stay here.” Her attention then is directed to her Highness with a bow, “Erm, pardon me, my Princess, for not greeting you.”

“Oh, not to worry. I take no offense for you caring about your family. Please, don't worry about.” Charlotte kindly responds, smiling.

“Thank you for your considerations, my Princess.” Bowing again, your mom goes walking over to the Duke's servants and speaks about something.

Back to her Highness, she gets up and faces you, “Well, I believe I should be going.”

>Ask her to stay. Why? Does it matter?
>Let her go about her business. She has more important things to supervise.
>Ask if she and the gang could hang around.

Family matters:
>Go ahead and talk yourself, the truth of your mercenary life. You'll probably not get through much but, you did wish to let them know.
>Just... be quiet. You're tired after all. You need to regain some strength.
>Talk about, stuff. Write-in.

>>2671440
>>Ask if she and the gang could hang around.
We should at least TRY to escort the girls home. But before we do anything of the sort:
>Go ahead and talk yourself, the truth of your mercenary life. You'll probably not get through much but, you did wish to let them know.

>>2671459
Supporting

>>2671440
>>Ask if she and the gang could hang around.
>>Go ahead and talk yourself, the truth of your mercenary life. You'll probably not get through much but, you did wish to let them know.

File: 457903252352.png (1.94 MB, 1920x1080)

1.94 MB PNG

>>2671440
>Ask if she and the gang could hang around.
>Go ahead and talk yourself, the truth of your mercenary life. You'll probably not get through much but, you did wish to let them know.

You lean forward before regretting even moving and lie back on your chair. “Princess... hang on.” You stop her, “How... about you and the others stay? I... was planning to... tell my family about myself. Maybe you would want to hear it.”

Charlotte eyes widen in surprise, though she recovers and beams happily, “I would love to hear.”

“Then can you tell mother that we'll need a bigger table, I'm-”

She puts a finger near her mouth to shush you and jokes, “Of course. Don't go running anywhere. Heh heh.” Running off to where your mother is, you then feel a hand pressing on your shoulder and it's your grandfather.

He seems to want to say something else but then choices a different set, “We'll try to get you something cold, maybe some bandages, okay?” To that, you move your head up and down before closing your eyes and being unable to reopen them...

Actions transpire, you can hear it. Glassing clinging, feet squeaking or tapping the floor, chairs creaking, furniture being moved, exchanges going on, people speaking from important topics to the mundane weather to bitching. Busy, busy, busy.

When you reopen your eyes, your family and the spies have taken their seats around a larger table. Sadly, no food or drinks. “Oh, morning.” Anne greets next to you, “Have you seen the white gates yet?”

You don't answer that, instead noting that everyone is here and now is the best time to start. You summon as much energy and sit upright as best you can to explain all those present, “I need to say something before I forget. To those I didn't tell, I... am a mercenary by trade. I've guarded, I've escorted, I've done many things. Those fights before, you should be able to understand how good I am at that.” Whispers, but not from the current company in this plane.

>Choose to smoke.
>You don't need it.
Topics:
>Show them your eye and how it came to be.
>Just tell them some recent history. It'll be...
>>Albion stuff.
>>You time in China. Your fame there.
>>The short time in the Philippines.
>That you really don't understand family or people relationships. Really. So you're confused still, but you figure telling the truth is a start.
>Write-in. (If choosing topics, limit to 2)

>>2675283
>>Choose to smoke.
>>Albion stuff.
>That you really don't understand family or people relationships. Really. So you're confused still, but you figure telling the truth is a start.

If they're going to get a genuine story, gotta get the Spice flowing.

>>2675308
Supporting

>>2675283
>Choose to smoke.
>Albion stuff.
>That you really don't understand family or people relationships. Really. So you're confused still, but you figure telling the truth is a start.

A momentary sharp white noise reaches your ears. Something you don't need and shall solve. “I... I... I need a smoke.” And a subject to talk about. While you fiddle about for your pipe, you guess talking about how much you fail about family is appropriate enough, “I'm not, I... don't know what to say.”

It feels, pathetic to admit that, though your Uncle comforts you, “Easy, boy, easy. Take your time. You've clearly have been through much yet are missing some values. It's not your fault.”

It's of little practical use to you, but regardless you appreciate it. “I have no... clear understanding of 'family'. Even the books I've read about relationships, from stories to those science ones, I don't know what to feel. The only thing I am certain is we're strangers.” You finally get your pipe lit and focus on it rather than look at anyone in the face.

“My grandson, for all intents and purposes, we are strangers.” Your grandmother announces will a small laugh at the end. “But that is all well and can be fixed with time and talk. Your mother was the same when she came back to us. Though, it took much longer for her to open up after a month of staying home.”

There are mild smiles to those in the know except for Mother, but she focuses her attention on you, “Son, I know I was not a great mother to you. It's a mistake I won't repeat. All the times we lost, we can fix that. You did come to us back at the cruise and you came to us here. We'll figure this out, okay?”

This is an odd sensation, you being welcomed. Then it is as is. “Uh, I... changing topic I suppose. Mm, I only came back to Albion after a long time serving around the world. My first job here was escorting her Highness and her friends to that casino. Do you all remember that?”

Anne snaps her fingers and points at you all aghast, “You! You're the idiot that got shot at by the man that took the Princess hostage!” She shouts it a bit too loudly and garners outside attention. “But at the same time, you saved everyone nearly alone. You are insane!”

You consider all the truths she said and only reply, “I'm aware. So you were there?”

“Very much so. The only good thing that day other than me dying was not paying up my losses. So, you're crazy, what else?”

“Anne...” Your Uncle and Aunt warn to which your Cousin backs off with hands up.

Cont.

>>2675895

You're about to go on your next interesting job that's not confidential when a server comes to your side. He whispers closely so only you can hear, “Pardon me, sir, but the men you didn't defeat are asserting that you haven't won yet. The Duke is allowing you to handle this as you see fit but you need to see him.”

Did... they not see what you had done? In fairness, you don't recall either, but you downed thirteen men and boys in an hour. Oh, oh, they might think you're weak. Truth is you are. This you is. You can feel a part of yourself heat up, more strongly than you could ever hope to gain. The other half, a void of nothing but decisiveness. But should you let go? Right now you are connecting and trying to bridge something with your family.

Or is it not that critical compared to these unknowns trying to put you down. You have time to... think before darkness comes for you.

You:
>You refuse to deal with cowards that failed to show up after the break. They had plenty of time to come afterward too, and the Duke did declare you the victor. So they can rightly fuck off.
>Tell them to try again at a later date. Otherwise, they can dunk their heads in the sewers.
>Fuck, fuck fuck fuck! Come... on... body, get up!
YOU: It's YOU time.
>YOU ARE FEELING THE BURN! YOU ARE FREE! Ahem, time to, ow, show them the fear of a maniac. Do it live! Again! These fucking people suck!
>You're going to send a message to all the dirt eating bastards not to fuck with you. Whoever they are, gun duel, quick draw, none of that fancy shitty noble aristocratic dueling rules that'll get in the way.
Mentat:
>Just assassinate them. You'll do it quietly.
>Fight them and utterly cripple their body, mind, and perhaps, even their souls.
>Straight up cut them up without any regard to the other patrons.

>>2675898
>You refuse to deal with cowards that failed to show up after the break. They had plenty of time to come afterward too, and the Duke did declare you the victor. So they can rightly fuck off.

>>2675898
>>You refuse to deal with cowards that failed to show up after the break. They had plenty of time to come afterward too, and the Duke did declare you the victor. So they can rightly fuck off.

>>2675898
>You refuse.

These cowards, DARE to challenge you after what you've done. No, no, no. You adamantly refuse. You tell it as such to the servant, perhaps the Duke feels the same about being interrupted by the antics of these failures. You are a bit too loud when you answer though since you're rejecting another fight, it shouldn't be an issue for the others. With your answer, the server departs and you feel the part of one weight off of you while another one takes its place. You huff and puff... huff and puff... and your vision to the outside closes.

…

You feel the hypothetical brush of a cool air past your entire face in the void you find yourself. You listen, there's nothing. You see nothing. Nothing but a calm air and periods of gale pushing you. Then heat, hot blistering air flashes over you for a second and a blast of dust and steam punches your face.

YOU see war and peace. People building, people destroying as things have been done before and no doubt will in the future. The force of a hammer on a nail is the same to a child's head. The baking of bread, the baking of people. Machines of all sorts running, working, dying.

The future is uncertain, unfixed in place. Yet even though unpredictable, you can sense the possibilities. A storm is coming. Inside and out, Albion will suffer a crisis and you're a part of it so long as your feet stay on the isle.

THE CONTINENTAL VERSUS US. THE REPUBLIC VERSUS THE KINGDOM. ONE BAND VERSUS A GANG. SPY VERSUS SPY. YOU DYING MANY TIMES. FAMILY TURNING ON EACH OTHER. MEN, WOMEN, CHILDREN RISING AND FALLING. MORE NAMED AND UNNAMED DEATHS. POWER. WAR. DESTROY THOSE THAT PLOT AGAINST US. VICTORY AT ALL COSTS. THAT IS THE MISSION.

A goal, we need a goal. A focus. What is the imperative? (Limit to 2 only)
>Priority to the self. Without the self, there is nothing.
>Your old promise to Ange and Charlotte. Protect them. Hell, even from themselves and each other if need be.
>Semper Fi, loyalty to your Continental. You helped them, they helped you. Though hardship, we prevailed.
>Peace. You can feel this concept, this reality. It is... special. Different than neutral, different than your being.
>Ascend the conscious, cease being weak and become more than yourselves. It can be done. Controlling the future is possible!
>You will go as you have for years. You don't need to change. You can do whatever you're paid to do. (Exclusive to other options)

Focus:
>Physical. You've been lacking in training yourself, time to fix that.
>Mind: Evolve the mind. Technology will be a key. Think not just smarter, but better
>Social: You want to be more... normal, human wise. Maybe that's what you've been lacking.

>>2677486
>Your old promise to Ange and Charlotte. Protect them. Hell, even from themselves and each other if need be.
>Ascend the conscious, cease being weak and become more than yourselves. It can be done. Controlling the future is possible!

>Mind: Evolve the mind. Technology will be a key. Think not just smarter, but better

>>2677486
>>Priority to the self. Without the self, there is nothing.
>>Your old promise to Ange and Charlotte. Protect them. Hell, even from themselves and each other if need be.

>Physical. You've been lacking in training yourself, time to fix that.

Rolled 1, 2 = 3 (2d2)

>Your old promise to Ange and Charlotte. Protect them. Hell, even from themselves and each other if need be.

1st tie break
1. Ascend
2. Self
2nd.
1. Physical
2. Mind

>>2677486
>Your old promise to Ange and Charlotte. Protect them. Hell, even from themselves and each other if need be.
>Ascend the conscious, cease being weak and become more than yourselves.
>Mind: Evolve the mind. Technology will be a key. Think not just smarter, but better.

We choose what was best, now to make it a reality.

…

You, Mentat, wake up right where another self had left off and not a minute too soon, Anne was about to poke your arm with a butter knife but you glaring right at her causes her to back off. “Easy, cousin! I was making sure you didn't fell asleep on us. You were quiet too long.” Joke or not, it's not kindly tolerated.

Time wise, you're curious about how long you were out and flip open your watch to find only two minutes passed while your mind was busy. “Mr. Browning,” Charlotte grabs your attention, “we can easily arrange a room for you to rest in.”

Taking your pipe off your mouth, you internally slap the weakness out of your entire body, you damn sure had worse tiredness, these minor aches are comparatively nothing. For added effect, you force yourself up and flex the tiredness and any more feeling of unreal weight. Only then do you answer Charlotte in certainty, “I'm fine, Princess. I just needed a few moments.”

You sit back down in time for the servers to bring supper for all. From then on you're quiet in thought. Your station in life is peculiar, one part noble, another part you're a made mercenary. You can use them to your advantage. But, there's a but to being someone that's noncommittal. Her Highness is partial to that area, neither Kingdom nor Republic. That is an issue will be required to deal with. If not, have an escape plan ready. It comes down to power and money as it always does. You will need these and much of it.

As you plan for the strategy needed ahead, family and associates enjoy each others company. It seems like your Uncle and Aunt are trying to invite her Highness to visit the main estate in the future. Anne is speaking about her time in University to Chise and Beatrice while Ange and Dorothy and being nice to your grandparents. Your mother keeps her eyes trained at you periodically, only deviating to make comment to something someone said.

Think. Think. How do you go about in service to Ange and Charlotte? If you could think beyond need the Cavorite...

“Son? Son.”
“Browning?”

You pocket that line of thought and change your focus to the present, her Highness and your mother have come to your side, worried. “I'm sorry. I was thinking about... well, never mind.” Your ears pick up the orchestra tuning their instruments and several couples are preparing to dance.

“Son, are you alright?”

Cont.

>>2679153

You didn't want to concern anyone as there's no need for it, “I'm fine, I swear. I'm just recovering still.”

Your mother lays a warm hand on your forehead then to your cheek and finally your shoulder, “Arthur, you can talk to us, okay?”

“I know. I need to think about what I want to say. I'll talk soon, okay?” You appease with a promise.

“Okay. Then I'll leave you alone. Princess.” Your mother leaves to go elsewhere, likely to speak to other nobles.

“Well, what should I call you now? Your real name or your other one?” Her Highness asks you.

>Either or, it doesn't matter too much.
>Keep it Browning.
>King Arthur. You're joking about the King part. Arthur is fine in noble settings you guess.
-
>Ask if she wants to dance. Write-in if you want to ask or speak about something.
>Ponder. It does you good to think...
>>Think about Cavorite and its effects/affects on the human condition.
>>Consider an escape plan for Ange and Charlotte, perhaps their friends too. Always ready. Safe and far away... the Americas.
>>You need... your own army. You need... to own all of Continental. It will... it might possibly be easy...
>>What if... you became a Duke? How much power and responsibility does that entail?
>>Write-in. Maybe a specific technology, weapons, vehicles, international affairs, etc.
>Ask if her Highness and her friends if they want to leave. Their business is done, is it not? Best to go home.
>You sense a future issue that can be nipped in the bud right now. Go outside...

>>2679165
>>Either or, it doesn't matter too much.

>Ask if she wants to dance. Write-in if you want to ask or speak about something
While dancing:
>Ponder. It does you good to think...
>>Consider an escape plan for Ange and Charlotte, perhaps their friends too. Always ready. Safe and far away... the Americas.
>>You need... your own army. You need... to own all of Continental. It will... it might possibly be easy...

>>2679352
Supporting.

>>2679165
>>2679352

“It doesn't matter, either one you want.” You state impassively. “Care for a dance, Princess?” You offer with a hand as the musicians finalize their tuning.

She's taken aback by your suggestion but is then amuses herself by asking, “I would love to, but are you in a state to dance?”

“I can promise not to step on your feet. Will it be a yes then?”

“Hmm, how about letting Ange have a dance?” At that suggestion, you eye around for anyone to hear, finding that most of the group has left and those that stayed are in their own conversation.

You look back to her Highness and whisper, “Am I not?”

While she doesn't show it, you can tell she's become apprehensive by your retort, yet she still takes your hand. “Very well.”

With that, you escort her to the dance flow where a smooth slow waltz is played.

…

You give enough attention to waltzing but the core of your mind is elsewhere. If Ange and Charlotte fail or come across an obstacle too impossible, they will need a place to escape. Possibly Charlotte has an idea already, but it's fine to have another one in play. Travel routes, land, sea, air. Hiding within the Albion, not recommended. Outside states, not many are strong against foreign agents or powerful defense wise. Distance would be best, in addition to access to long-range communications. Yes, the Indian Americas, pardon, the lax territories of the former Spaniard Colonial Empire.

It would be advantageous to have under your thumb. Yet an army, a nation, a people, would be needed, else you could hide in the American Commonwealth. There is the Continental. It's a base unless you are willing to push a truly united and expanding company, it will not be enough even with it's spread out assets. You will need to do more.

“Browning?” The voice of her Highness breaks your concentration.

You answer, “Yes.”

“Is... something wrong?”

>”No, nothing really. Just thinking.” Until you form a plan of action, you don't need to worry her Highness with your strategy.
>”I'm planning. Maybe make some new friends, or do some business. I haven't decided.” Come mostly clean.
>“I remember my old promise.” That's cryptic enough of an answer and you will say no more on the matter.
>”I am concerned about you and Ange. Mainly because I've managed to get a glimpse of an unhappy future.”
>>Regardless, you will see the day of Queen Charlotte.
>>Persuade her that being all nice isn't going to end cleanly. She'll need to be a little ruthless to her real enemies.
>>Does Charlotte have to be Queen in order for what she wants to do, this uniting Albion thing?
>Write-in.

>>2680443
>>”No, nothing really. Just thinking.” Until you form a plan of action, you don't need to worry her Highness with your strategy.

>>2680443
>”No, nothing really. Just thinking.” Until you form a plan of action, you don't need to worry her Highness with your strategy.

>>2680443
>>”No, nothing really. Just thinking.” Until you form a plan of action, you don't need to worry her Highness with your strategy.

>>2680443
>”No, nothing really. Just thinking.” Until you form a plan of action, you don't need to worry her Highness with your strategy.

“No, nothing really. Just thinking.” You answer plainly and waltz away.

She plasters the same fake smile she wears but you can sense a disturbance in her, “Just thinking, huh. About?”

“Planning, Princess.”

Her smile falters a bit more, “About?”

“The future here. If I should stay. What to do. Stuff like that.” Ambiguous words you reply back.

Her smile falls off and her grip ever so slightly increases, “And what did you come up with?”

You speak the truth when you say, “Nothing.”

She blinks and her expression shows a bit of a surprise, “Nothing? You're not lying just to annoy me, are you?”

More of you wish not to concern her with your imaginations, “Princess, once I have a concrete idea of what to do and it concerns you, I will let you know. I need to think about many things here, both the Republic and the Kingdom. I do mean what I said when I have nothing planned, that's why I'm planning. I just don't have enough time to do so here.” The song ends and you both part ways with the customary bow and curtsy. “If I come up with something, I will let you know.”

You then take her hand and escort her back to the table. “Alright, I won't ask then.” Soon she moves her head to the area where the royals are seated and she lets go of your hand, “ Ah, I need to spend more time with my grandmother. Excuse me.” You merely nod and let her go do her duties.

And to stave you off of more thinking, Sherlock Holmes saunters over to you with many papers and bags stuff in his chest with the man you saw earlier. “It's rather curious how fast the wealthy are willing to part for sporting purposes.”

“Holmes.”
“Holmes...”

You and the stranger Gentleman say together in different tones and meaning. “Ah, Watson, Mr. Browning, the fellow we say rumbling earlier. Mr. Browning, my friend Doctor Watson.” Holmes introduces.

A slighter shorter than you man, finely combed dark brown hair, thick English mustache, light blue eyes, cane user, inner and outer pockets are padded by credit notes and coins, the clicking gives them away. “John Watson.” When he gives his hand out you shake it. “Holmes has neglected to properly introduce us until now.”

“Browning, or Brown, if that's easier to say Mr. Watson.”

Cont.

>>2681053

“I saw the fights, Mr. Browning.”

Interrupting the doctor would be Holmes, “We saw your fights and we made a gamble.”

“You made me gamble. After getting me to drink.” The Doctor grumbles as Holmes takes somethings into his hands and presents them to you.

“And so champion, coin or credit?”

An obvious choice for you, “Whichever is more.” You're a bit surprised when the detective hands you both into your hands. Going through the credit alone, you're... rich... again.

As you process the amount of wealth in your hands, Holmes continues talking musingly, “While spectating these bouts I cannot help but be interested, not the easy fights but the last ones. You were roughly matched with the trained men and boy, but the last three, you tossed them to the floor like they were cloth straps. Oh, also we went all in by the way, to the point we bet your victory in the duel.”

“An ungodly sum at that. I can't believe you made me bet that much.” Watson says to Holmes and you can believe the figures. If it's that much, many expected you to lose.

“Blame the drink and company, dear boy. And you-” Once you pocket all money and credit, you can see Holmes studying you very carefully. “-something about you has changed since we last spoke. Your manners, that stone face, you're emoting very little, you lost the effects of your injuries.” He points all the facts out and you shrug.

“Holmes, you're being invasive. I'm sorry for his behavior.” The doctor apologizes and yanks Holmes from out of your personal space. “We will have to be going, have a good evening.”

“Until we meet again, boyo!”

>Just bid them farewell and thank the cash influx.
>You want to talk to Holmes about something... Write-in.

>>2681058
>>Just bid them farewell and thank the cash influx.

>>2681058
>>Just bid them farewell and thank the cash influx.

>>2681058
>Just bid them farewell and thank the cash influx.

“Take care, Detective Holmes, and nice to meet your Doctor Watson. I appreciate the cash.” You wave them adieu and go about the rest of the night...

-
+5 Personal Funds (Total is 10)
-

You take the girls safely back to school and head back home to your office. No one to greet you when you come back but that's alright. After signing what meager paperwork accumulated, you grab several sheets of paper and begin some special surveying of the local area and what's been going on inside the Continental.

London is shit as you've known for a long while. There's trash both the normal form and the people. Crime, while not at an all-time high, is prevalent up and down the chain. Pollution is rampant. As 'industrial' as this place is, it's not very efficient in the way it manages. The people are poor, the middle-class is an idea written by people, while the rich hold limited power and sway. There is still power here though as the seat of the Kingdom of Albion.

The Republic of Albion, sitting across some dumb wall, lands stripped of wealth, heavy industry, and many other things, in theory at least. Still plagued by its own industrialization capacity, few people think they are truly free when they're hardly any better than the citizens over here. Pay is low, wealth is non-existent, yet they're slowly going up in the world. Where few shout freedom and mean it. What a joke.

Yet, her Highness wishes to unite Britannia. What she sees in the people and land, bah, it doesn't matter to you nor do you need to understand entirely.

As for your organization, business is slow as it has been. Part legitimate enterprise, part illegal mafia, no better than organized crime in any other place that's not the government. Made up of former enlisted personnel, people act mostly independently in groups, only by convenience was the organization made. Its centralization is bare bones, an advantage and disadvantage.

Tonight, no sleep. It's time for planning or action.
>The spice must flow. There's something special about it...
>You have money of usable means, consider owning some companies or land that aren't doing so well or are.
>>Production.
>>Housing.
>>Technology. Of what? You don't know.
>>Banks and loan sharks.
>>Write-in. For a specific enterprise.
>>Look towards international markets.

>Hostile takeover of a 'rival' group.
>>Start small, there some street thugs that annoy people in the area.
>>There are smugglers that operate both legit fences and illegal goods. Time to make them yours.
>>Rival Mercenaries gotta go. Plain and simple.

>Earn favor by doing missions for a faction. You want only the big ones.
>>Kingdom
>>Republic
>>Local Police
>>Continental

>You are not above doing illegal things such as...
>>Robbing a bank, heh, last time was easy.

>Write-in.

File: 1472401062303.jpg (158 KB, 850x433)

158 KB JPG

>>2681519
>You have money of usable means, consider owning some companies or land that aren't doing so well or are.
>>Production.
>>Look towards international markets.
Considering we already have an arms facility going up in the Americas, it'd make sense to look into other business opportunities there as well.

>>2681519
>Production.
>Look towards international markets.

Requesting a 2d20 roll.

Rolled 7, 12 = 19 (2d20)

>>2682387

Rolled 16, 10 = 26 (2d20)

>>2682387

>>2681519

You shift through the business section of several days worth of newspapers for anything relating to companies in the production sector with limited success. Nothing but progress and margins, though you dig a little deeper to the unfortunate end. You list some things that pique your interest, namely steel manufacturers not doing so green. You'll do some more research later.

Now world trade is a more difficult market to get a hold of. Charter companies... nothing good for you unless you want to make your own. Information is key and much of that is in special interest and not available to the public. Hm, time to make some calls...

The next morning, another drab one of fog and gray, you've done some legwork in the night and return to your office with some useful information on one subject and nothing on the other. Turns out there are some old blacksmiths or whatever they work with that aren't doing so well. A collaborative effort of similar people molding metal yet they're financially unwell. You would hazard a guess that the new steelmakers are doing more than a bunch of people in a small workshop area. Might be something to look into.

On the subject of international trade, it's to be determined. You got nothing right now to work with. Hopefully, the people Jackal have will manage to find trade secrets for the benefit of the company. For now, you will have to wait.

You have your pipe in one hand and tea in the other when Butler enters in with a breakfast tray. “Oh, Mentat, you're already up. Well, good morning to you.”

“Butler.” You greet and place the teacup to its saucer. “Has the newspaper come in?”

You shuffle items to the side of the table as Butler begins laying out the dishes. “It should be coming anytime now. Is there a specific article you are interested in?”

“Business.” You respond and begin to toast in apple jam.

“Business?” He adjusts his glasses and pours some more tea into your cup.

You explain as you have no need to hide anything, in fact it's likely you would eventually tell someone, “I'm planning, Butler."

>On that note, you should head to a library and see if you can find anything about manufacturing, well, anything really.
>Go over upgrading the Warehouse. The expanded dock is doing well. As for your tool line, it's being retrofitted. What else...
>>A basement to house more materials or other items. $2
>>Underground firearms/testing range. $2
>>Enlarge the entire building and modernize it. $4
>>Water tower of clean water and in case of fires. $2
>>Upgrade the roof to be able to handle small airships. Also to improve lighting and ventilation. $1
>Ask Butler if there's been trouble nearby. Say, your people being harassed by some unwanted people.
>Go visit the downtrodden blacksmiths. See if they're really worth investing.
>Look up the mission logs, sees what's available.
>Write-in. Maybe have a private meeting with Ange/Charlotte. Or find a person of interest.

>>2682819
>>Go over upgrading the Warehouse. The expanded dock is doing well. As for your tool line, it's being retrofitted. What else...
>>>Underground firearms/testing range. $2
>>>Upgrade the roof to be able to handle small airships. Also to improve lighting and ventilation. $1
Since we've got 10 funds, we may as well make use of them.
>Go visit the downtrodden blacksmiths. See if they're really worth investing.
Could be worthwhile to have skilled craftsmen on our team.

>>2682819
>>Go over upgrading the Warehouse. The expanded dock is doing well. As for your tool line, it's being retrofitted. What else...
>>>Underground firearms/testing range. $2
>>Water tower of clean water and in case of fires. $2
>>>Upgrade the roof to be able to handle small airships. Also to improve lighting and ventilation. $1

>Go visit the downtrodden blacksmiths. See if they're really worth investing.

I don't really have any better ideas on this.

>>2682819
>Go over upgrading the Warehouse
>Underground firearms/testing range. $2
>Upgrade the roof to be able to handle small airships. Also to improve lighting and ventilation. $1
>Go visit the downtrodden blacksmiths. See if they're really worth investing.

Gathering some old paperwork on the warehouse, you touch up several drafted projects and toss the appropriate cash need to get them done and pile to the send out group. “I'll be heading out later so can you make sure these get done today?” You ask before quickly finishing your entire in under two minutes, “I'll be heading out... now.”

You get up and grab you necessary things and clothing as the old man bows with a smile, “I'll be sure to see it done, Mentat. How long will you be out?”

“No idea. And thank you.” And you're out to door...

You drive eastward, far out from London and where fresh air resides and green foliage exists. You pass roughly two, three towns though it's somewhat hard to tell as things are expanding, and you finally arrive at a semi-industrial brick building that's not spewing black smog from its towers and into the air. You check the street name to the info you had of the conglomerate and it checks out. You circle the walled place to find the entrance gate half open and with several boys and men sitting on things, pipes, boxes and some such.

Their heads tilt up when you park outside the gate and walk on in without reservation. Suffice to say, the building is whole but there's a lot of nothing going around.

“Hey, who's this guy?”
“No idea.”
“Banker maybe?”
“Or one of those sharks.”
“Should we get the boss?”
“Is he even in?”

How talkative the kids are, unlike the adults that ignore your presence and keep their head down.

>Ask one of the men if the owner is in. They'll probably know more.
>Ask the kids to take you to the owner, given how chatty they are, maybe they can be useful and give up info on the place.
>>For either the above, toss some loose change.
>Wander around alone, you're smart enough to find your way. Besides, if you look important and act, you might not get questioned.
>Write-in.

>>2683381
>>Ask the kids to take you to the owner, given how chatty they are, maybe they can be useful and give up info on the place.

>>2683381
>>Ask the kids to take you to the owner, given how chatty they are, maybe they can be useful and give up info on the place.

>>2683381
>Ask the kids to take you to the owner, given how chatty they are, maybe they can be useful and give up info on the place.

You look over to the kids and hail them with a question, “Hey, would one of you mind taking me to your boss?” The kids group up and whisper to one another before one of the bigger adolescents shove a boy? Girl in boy clothes? Feminine boy? Eh, you get a kid in your party.

He/she/it doesn't answer you or looks up at you and quickly runs to the main door. It at least has the patience of waiting for you to follow before opening the door and unkindly does not leaving it open for you. Entering the interior you find it surprisingly not smelly but you count that fact due that not a single machine is running. There are some persons here and there sweeping but the place is a mess of lying things about from large mold bricks to hammer and nails. Least the nails aren't upright.

You carefully go through the facility until you led up some stairs and to an office with no windows looking into the plant. Odd, shouldn't a supervisor or manager at least see what's going on inside the plant? The kid points to the door and runs away to a nearby box and hides, rather shy, very shy. You turn the knob and it doesn't budge, fantastic. You knock, and knock, and knock again.

When it's clear that nobody is on the other side, you look to the kid and ask, “Is your boss in?” It nods fiercely and remains in cover.

You don't have time for this and pull your lockpick tools and hurriedly open the two locks on the door. Once done you enter and are soon receive the odor of urine and fecal matter, not to mention seeing a suited old individual in his chair with a needle in his hand. You shut the door and weigh how to approach this.

>Get a rag and enter the room to snoop around. You might find something of worth like fiance or something.
>So this is a bust. Well, you're not dealing with a dead body. Leave and tell the people the news and call the morgue to send someone here.
>Maybe you can turn this to your advantage? How though... Write-in.

>>2683772
>>Maybe you can turn this to your advantage? How though... Write-in.
>>Look for deeds, wills, ledgers, etc.

If he doesn't owe people money and has no immediate family; we can forge documents claiming he owed us money being the reason he committed suicide.

>>2683783
Supporting this.

>>2683772
>Maybe you can turn this to your advantage? How though... Write-in.
>Look for deeds, wills, ledgers, etc.

You reopen the door and cover your nose when you enter carefully. To your right seems to be the paperwork area with shelves and cabinets of varying piles of paper with convenient labels etched into the wood. You put a hold on going through those and look over at the desk facing you, an unpolished brass name plaque, C. Castle, more paperwork, an old oil lamp still burning that you turn off, and a cup used for holding pens, pencils, and ink. On the walls are taped items like small photos, portraits, children drawings, some certificates, legal documentation.

You'll need to go over them soon, but for now, you turn your attention to the deceased man on the left side of the room. He sits on a rocking chair with his left arm laying in the armrest with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, a hypodermic needle held in his right hand that lies on his side. Eyes closed, mouth open in a slight smile, pale face, no marks of note. You're about to grab a curtain and lay it over the man when you notice the contents on the low height coffee table. A needle case with a spare needle inside and a bottle of Heroin, near empty when you carefully check.

The kid peeks its head into the room before regretting the decision and covers its nose. Good timing too, you turn to her and point at the deceased, “This your boss?” A quick nod. Splendid. “Well, he's dead. You understand what dead means, right?” Another nod. Right, a witness. “Close the door, I'll do what I need to do with this mess.” It obeys and shuts the door as fast as it could.

Now you open the balcony window and rip one of the curtains and place it over the man. There on, you start the descent of paper purgatory. A diary, long, no time to read.

Financial reports of the plant, barely above breaking even before, started dipping red this year periodically. Honestly, a lot of costs is the labor. Sales, sales, sales, not many sales.

Cont.

>>2684264

Up next in your find are the production figures. Late late late, while you don't really get everything you can understand that things are late. There's coal, water, and a bunch of other materials you suspect is needed in creating what they want here. Overall it's very, very, low. You've heard things are made by tons but here, eh, not so much.

Personal finances? Interesting, a few gambling and loans notes, paid though, mostly, all to unnamed persons. Chequebook? Hm, dwindling account, ho ho ho, the numbers aren't lying, seems the old man was paying a lot out of pocket. Maybe you can use it.

More searching you got taxes, nothing of use aside they're paid, and what else, notes, diagrams, things that need reminding. Ah, something good, the land deed, bottom desk drawer. Now see if he has a next of kin, nothing you could find. What's this? A partially written will but with no substance.

So... now what...

>Edit the chequebook so that it seems he got a loan from you. And.. then what? Write-in required.
>Steal the deed and leave. Eventually, you'll claim this place through unofficial channels. You are patient.
>Maybe you don't need to pay for the entire place. Maybe you can puppet the place, get the managers in, and get this place running under your guidance. After all, nobody important needs to know this old man is dead, that is useful, he doesn't need money but the living sure do.
>Yeah, you're not feeling in the mood to get this place up and running nor dealing with a dead man. Get out of here, at least not before stealing some trade secrets.

>>2684269
>>Maybe you don't need to pay for the entire place. Maybe you can puppet the place, get the managers in, and get this place running under your guidance. After all, nobody important needs to know this old man is dead, that is useful, he doesn't need money but the living sure do.

>>2684269
>>Maybe you don't need to pay for the entire place. Maybe you can puppet the place, get the managers in, and get this place running under your guidance. After all, nobody important needs to know this old man is dead, that is useful, he doesn't need money but the living sure do.

Calling this thread and I'll see you all next time.

>>2686401
Thanks for running, OP.