>>2910136
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>>2910136
“Excuse me….no please, wait, hold on, let me through! Out of my way! Stop that! Get off my foot!”

It is midday by the time you finally stumble through the crowd, all the duelling skill and legal birthrights in the world not stopping you from nearly getting trampled by the crowd. You are surrounded by a jostling mob of people, many of them with swords as you all surround the flat basin of a large fountain in the midst of a paved city square. You’ve been here before and it never gets easier.
The people clustering around the fountain are the only ones in the square, even the beggars have cleared out beforehand. Everybody’s long since learned to not get between a duellist and their pay.

Your name is Sofia Pseudonym and you are a duellist, a champion and representative with power under Sword Law. Suspended between the arcane complexities of High Law and the brutal simplicity of Street Law, the trial by combat is the primary means of redressing crimes of honor in the City. And to be more specific, you’re a public defender, a duellist paid a wage by the City itself in order to represent those incapable of hiring a duellist. You do this for the sake of justice, to give back to the world and to deny the kind of person you were meant to be.
And today you are surrounded by your peers, public defenders all. They surely all have the same justice in your hearts that you do. You are all allies against the unfair legal system, united in your defence of the helpless and the unpalatable.

But right now one of them is literally stepping on you, everyone squabbling and trampling over each other like a flock of gulls fighting over a crust of bread.

Payment is an issue after all. Duellists who work on commission simply charge their client a fee. Duellists on retainer to a merchant league or powerful family are provided for by their sponsors. But what about people like you who work for clients who don’t want to pay? How is the city itself meant to fill your pockets?

You finally pull yourself over the wall of the basin and roll across the surface of the water filling the fountain, your arms and knees curled up to protect your face. This fountain, called by most the June Moneta, is the answer to that question. Out of all the fountains in the city, it is one of the few that nobody drops coins into in order to make a wish. Rather it is quite the opposite.
You crawl along your hands and knees across the water, looking down at the blanket of coins carpeting the bottom of the basin. You instinctively reach but your hand just strikes the surface and bounces off the springy but inviolable barrier.

Oh. Right. You always forget this part. Most fountains count as public waterways for the purpose of sinking, swimming, drowning. Namely that all three acts are illegal. Nobody can so much as break the surface of a canal without a swimming license. But for this one, for an employee of the City itself, there is a special provision.

1/2

>>2910146
“Okay, uh,” your voice can barely be heard over the sound of splashing water and the din of everyone else doing the same. “Sofia Pseudonym, public defender, here to claim my monthly stipend!”

The water suddenly becomes as soft and pliable as private water, giving way beneath you and dumping you unceremoniously into the shallow basin. You are now wading through two feet of water, your boots scraping against the coins at the bottom. You don’t like wading. It’s not a feeling you’re used to.

Having secured a spot away from everyone else, you lean up against a statue of a woman with too much bosom and not enough clothes for a moment before ducking your head beneath the water and grabbing a fistful of coins. Gold, silver and other more inscrutable metals gleam in your hand as you dump them into your handbag. That is your payment. As much coin as you can take until the June Moneta decides that you’ve taken enough and revokes your sinking privileges.

There are thousands upon thousands of fountains in Aquitae Cogituum and people dump coins into them every day. Most of those coins stay put, trapped beneath the water. Some are put to use, like how the Court of Swords is emptied every year and the coins within melted down to make the finest duelling blades. But outside of those, all fountain coin eventually comes to be resting at the bottom of the June Moneta’s basin. And it is from the June Moneta that most low-ranked civil servants claim their pay from the City.

Honestly, you’re given an assignment by a fountain and then paid by one. If you asked most people in the city about who was in control, they’d say the Elector families. Some of the more cynical might instead point to the High Courts who make the law that defines the world or to the merchant leagues and the rule of the money. If they asked you however, you’d be happy to expound on your theory that it’s all just fountains all the way down.

You take several more handfuls before you are suddenly thrust upward and left sitting helplessly on top of the water once more with wet and heavy clothes, bedraggled hair and a handbag full of coin. That’s it, that’s your monthly wage. You rise with a faint groan, noting that your handbag is now rather heavy. It’s just an ordinary bag after all. It’s not made from ambisilk or anything. You don’t have the money for that!

You could have had the money for that once. But this is the life you chose.


>It’s time to hit the marketplace. You need to buy the essentials for next month.

>Loiter outside the Moneta for a little while longer. Surely this is a good time to meet some of your associates!

>Splurge on luxury items! After that travesty of duelling a few days ago surrounding the d’Rosarre brothers, you deserve it.

>Since you’re already out and about, maybe you should pay someone a visit.

>Other (Specify)

>>2910151
>It’s time to hit the marketplace. You need to buy the essentials for next month.
Living paycheck to paycheck.

>>2910151
>>It’s time to hit the marketplace. You need to buy the essentials for next month.

>>2910151
>It’s time to hit the marketplace. You need to buy the essentials for next month.

Vote called, writing.

>It’s time to hit the marketplace. You need to buy the essentials for next month.

As tempting as the idea to spend your money on foolishness might be, you need to take care of the basics first before you try any frippery. You have to learn the value of coin, you’re not going to get any from anywhere else. And you’d rather die before going back to ask your family.
And while it might be interesting to loiter a little and try to meet some of your colleagues, you probably shouldn’t. This isn’t a dignified experience for anyone. Better for everyone to avert their eyes and pretend not to recognise each other.

You jump off the fountain and trudge away, trying to hopelessly wring water of your ponytail. It’s been three days since your debut upon the stage of public defence. That had been a travesty of a duel but you had emerged victorious twice in one day. And since then...you’ve mostly been training and waiting for your next summons. Your bruises, with a little help from the humours, have healed. You are ready for duty. Your next call to duel could come at any time!
It’s been a twitchy and paranoid last few days, spent watching the ripples in fountains as if another scroll would burst free of the water at any moment.

But enough about that. You can’t fight a duel on an empty stomach and for now, your utmost task is to secure your essentials for the next month. You’ll have a little coin left over, no doubt to spend on gods and puzzles. You’d be the first to admit that you don’t practice the best money management or at least you would if it wasn’t literally impossible for you or anyone else to say that.

The markets along your street-canal are as busy as ever and you spend a rushed thirty minutes being bustled from stall to stall, peering at foods and fabric. Coin changes hands, lightening your bag for just a moment before you fill it with your new purchase. You try to part with the ugliest looking coins first, the disfigured black or dirtied silver. There’s a thousand different faces and crests carved into them, each some petty lord or lady from the Lesser Realms. You have no idea who any of them are but you’ll happily spend their visages.

1/2

>>2910326
The currency of Aquitae Cogituum is, after all, simply coin.There’s no name for it. Any coin of any kind could be used and each has the same value as any other. As long as it was from the Lesser Realms, it was valid currency. It’s the easiest way to police counterfeiters apparently, since any coin manufactured in the City would have a proper moving face carved onto it rather than the still and dead ones.
Once again, it all comes down to fountains. While some fountains, like a certain romance wishing well that will go unnamed, are unreliable many more give exactly what people say they do. One coin for one wish. And since the fountains never change their price, everyone always knows the certain value of any coin. Why would a merchant turn down a coin, any kind of coin, that could be, for example, used to procure a wish for luck or a wish for a chicken?
The City’s economy runs on a wish-standard and any coin will do.

It doesn’t always run on your wishes though. As you watch a butcher inspect the silver coin you gave him for any sign of movement, a sinking feeling slowly starts to settle in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to buy a few new picture-puzzles this month. But right now you’re not sure how much coin you’ll have left to spend on anything.
You’re not even buying the fancy meats like pork or beef or mutton! You don’t even eat those anymore! You’re purchasing honest fowl, fish and scale but you still have less coin left over than you’d like.

You might have to start looking into ways to get meat outside of coin.

>It’s time to take up fishing! Lots of citizens string up nets or fishing lines from their windows into the canals below.

>Purchase some sky-nets and try your hand at birdcatching. Your room is already infested with them anyway.

>Throw yourself on the mercy of your friends like a parasite.

>You just need to find an appropriate fountain and start wishing.There’s a lot of reasons people don’t do this though...

>Enough of this nonsense! These people can’t refuse you, not if you really tried. Use your birthright to lean on them and make everything cheaper.

>Other (Specify)

>>2910328
>It’s time to take up fishing! Lots of citizens string up nets or fishing lines from their windows into the canals below.

>>2910136
Does no one else think that is the most ugly illegible font to have for a thumbnail?

>>2910328
>It’s time to take up fishing! Lots of citizens string up nets or fishing lines from their windows into the canals below.
Sounds comfy. Until it isn't.

>>2910328
>Clearly the solution is more training! Strike down birds as they fly by, fillet fish swimming in transit!
>Maybe you should watch how other people haggle before leaning on your birthright to save money

>>2910348
Of course, any font associated with Sofia must be wonderful and totally appropriate.

I mean, I think that font is the most flattering for Sofia-wait. Hmm.

>>2910348
I could see why but I got all the OP pics for free so there's no complaints on my part.

>>2910328
>>It’s time to take up fishing! Lots of citizens string up nets or fishing lines from their windows into the canals below.
Fishing is more than casting a line though. Make sure Sofia knows the basics and has the essentials.

>>2910328
>Throw yourself on the mercy of your friends like a parasite.

Vote called, writing.

>>2910348
I could read it just fine?

Sorry for the delay on this one, was eating.

>It’s time to take up fishing! Lots of citizens string up nets or fishing lines from their windows into the canals below.

You won’t have to spend all this coin on food if you can just start providing for it yourself! You’ve seen plenty of citizens dangle fishing lines, nets and crab cages from their windows and into the canals below. The water below the City is fresh and teeming with life.
And why stop there? Maybe you could start a garden on the roof and...well, let’s not get ahead of yourself. You should attempt to master fishing first.

You purchase the basic essentials, the hooks and sinkers and line. You should be able to supply the bait yourself from what you’ve already got. You won’t bother trying to set up a net or a cage however, since you’ve seen old Signora Alfonsi, who lives one floor below you in your boarding house. She has a long hook on a pole and you know that she uses it to tug on other people’s lines and drag up their nets and cages. So even though those would let you just string them up and forget about them, you’d rather not take the risk of being poached.


*****

Your room is just as much a mess as ever, now even more so by the introduction of your attempt at a new hobby. You sweep the puzzle off the table, the painted people within screaming silently as their world fractures and breaks a thousand different ways, and drag it out to sit by your open window. You won’t use your sword-table for something like this.
Your new line is simple, just a thread wrapped around a circular wooden spool. You weight it, you hook it, you attach a scrap of spoiled fowl to the hook and then drop it out the window and into the canal below!

And there you sit, leaning back on your chair, your feet propped up on the table, spool in one hand and line in the other. The sunlight is luxurious, the air is warm and dozy and all you have to do is just sit back and wait until you feel a tug.

Sit back...and wait.

...And wait.

And wait.

It slowly becomes apparent, after the course of an hour or so, that you might not be doing this right. Where are all the fish? Where are the snakes? At this point you wouldn’t even complain about finding a crocodile at the end of it all!
You pull your line up to check that you haven’t lost your bait but no, it’s still there! What’s going on? You see people fish every day and they seem to manage it just fine. It looks easy! So where’s your fish?

You probably should have expected this. Nobody will ever say it to your face but to be honest, you’re only good at learning things you’ve taken from others. Anything else and you’re useless. You’ve never been good at just going out and doing.

You’ve come no closer to finding anything. In fact, you’ve just gotten hungrier. Fishing has only made things worse.

1/2

>>2910519
>Fishing is useless. You hate it and you’ll never do it again. This was such a bad idea and you’re a stupid girl for ever thinking of it. You’ll find another way.

>Ask a friend for some help.

>Maybe you can’t learn it properly. But you can take that skill by force…

>Signora Alfonsi had the right idea. Resort to poaching.

>Just wait. Keep your line out...and wait.

>Other (Specify)

>>2910521
>Ask a friend for some help.
We have friends?

>>2910521
>Just wait. Keep your line out...and wait.
we ain't no quitter, right?

>>2910521
> Friends

>>2910521

>Ask a friend for some help.

Vote called, writing.

>Ask a friend for some help.

Whatever your problem is, it’s becoming clear that you can’t do this on your own. You need help. But you’re not willing to simply beg someone you know for food. You easily could but that’s not the kind of person you want to be! With their help, you will master the fishing line as surely as you have the sabre!

You have a few people in mind. And you know that regardless of their true feelings, none of them will be able to refuse you. You should be able to enlist any of them.


>Lorenzo.

>Leonarda.

>Paolo

>Maccio

>Ormanno

>Zuana

>>2910645
>Lorenzo.
Well he's the oldest person we know. Maybe he'll have some wisdom on making it day by day?

>>2910645
>Lorenzo.

>>2910645
>Lorenzo.

Vote called, writing.

File: CoSOP.jpg (219 KB, 1500x1102)

219 KB JPG

>Lorenzo

You suppose it makes sense. As entertaining as it would be to force your presence upon your former foes, it wouldn’t be all that helpful. It would only really be there to make you feel good, to assert your power over them. And as entertaining as that would be, you have better uses of your time.
Lea wouldn’t have anything of use either, or so you think, and Maccio is probably busy enough as it is. You don’t know if your threat to Ormanno protected him properly not but either way, he’s likely still dealing with it. You don’t want to bother him over something so petty.

So why not lean on the generosity of your old client? He still owes you after all! You’re the only reason he even still has a business. You’re the only reason he even still has a daughter. You could ask the world of him and he’ll never stop owing you. And Lorenzo is a fairly mature man. That’s not really your type but it might mean that he has the experience you need.
And since you’d rather be taught how to fish than simply given a fish, it seems the obvious answer.


********

And that’s how you wound up back in the Som district as the sun settles deeper and deeper into the sky. The people on the canal outside stay out of your way as you approach the caffe. That make sense. Most of these people are locals and they should still know you, even though you’re not in your duelling outfit. The sheathed sword hanging from your cintura should be all they need to see.

The coffee house is still busy by the time you walk in, almost a dozen other people lining the counter or sitting at the tables. Some faces turn as you open the door, some don’t. You can tell without looking that Lorenzo was one of them because you hear him drop a cup. It bounces off the counter and shatters on the ground.
And with that as your welcome, everyone stares at you. Some of them recognise you, some are from further afield. Lorenzo is where you expected him to be, behind the counter, staring straight at you.

“Good day, Signore Rizzo! I don’t suppose you could give me a little assistance? I need a man who knows his way around a fishing line.”

“Oh, Signorina!,” Lorenzo still doesn’t sound particularly set at ease by your presence. Did he really never expect you to never show up again? “Certainly but I’m a little busy right now…”


>”That’s fine. I am gracious enough to wait.” Take a seat. Maybe order something to drink.

>”It is an urgent matter!” You’re too damn hungry and you know he can’t resist you.

>You can convince everyone else to leave.

>”Here, I can help!” It looks like he’s a little swamped without his usual waitress. You can help out in Lea’s place.

>Other (Specify)

>>2910797
>”Here, I can help!” It looks like he’s a little swamped without his usual waitress. You can help out in Lea’s place.

>>2910797
>”That’s fine. I am gracious enough to wait.” Take a seat. Maybe order something to drink.

>>2910797

>”Here, I can help!” It looks like he’s a little swamped without his usual waitress. You can help out in Lea’s place.

>>2910797
>”Here, I can help!” It looks like he’s a little swamped without his usual waitress. You can help out in Lea’s place.

>>2910797
>>”That’s fine. I am gracious enough to wait.” Take a seat. Maybe order something to drink.

Vote called, writing.

>rich girl who doesn't know squat trying to waitress
uhoh

>>2910926
Yeah I've got a bad feeling about this

>”Here, I can help!” It looks like he’s a little swamped without his usual waitress. You can help out in Lea’s place.

You look around but you don’t see Leonarda anywhere. She must have really taken your words to heart! And while that’s certainly great and you’re happy for her, it does look like her poor father has been left a little in lurch. Has he just not been able to find another waitress yet?
Well in that case, you’re always willing to help out!

“Here, I can help!”
You step up to the counter and, dragging a broom out from behind it, start to sweep up the pile of shattered ceramic. You’ve never used a broom before in your life! You know you’re using the right end but beyond that, it’s a mystery.
“Signore I’ll be your waitress for today and for no charge!”

“You will?”
Lorenzo doesn’t sound too enthused by your offer. He’s probably still shocked to be seeing you again at all.

“I insist!”

“Then by all means, you’re welcome. Thank you.”

Was the outcome ever in doubt?

It can’t be that hard to be a waitress. But then again, you had that exact same thought about fishing...but this time it’ll be different. You haphazardly sweep the broken cup out the door and onto the pavement by the canal, where it is now someone else’s problem. Everyone’s eyes are still on you.

After that, you start taking drinks and plates from the counter to the table. You catch Lorenzo trying to do it himself several times, even though he absolutely doesn’t have the time. And why would he do that? You’re doing a fantastic job!
Sure there’s a few spills every now and there. It’s surprisingly hard to carry a coffee without the froth slopping over the side. But most of the drink is still there. You wouldn’t mind if someone did that when they were serving you. You only outright drop one cup.

You drop it right onto a customer’s lap. And the coffee was very hot. There were some screams and you do your best to drag him from his seat and take his pants off but their ornate belt just gets in the way! You need to do something or they’ll only be burned further!

“Stand back!,” you shout and unsheathe your sword. A masterpiece of blued and gilded sword, it is both weapon and badge and it is far too exquisite for a purpose such as this. But what choice do you have?
The man screams even louder as you bring the blade down upon his groin but your concentration doesn’t waver, slicing the cloth away without drawing blood. You’ve trimmed his leg hair at worst.
“Now someone! Get me some water!”

You pour a cup of water on the affected area, doing your best to avert your eyes while not really doing so. You want to apologise. And despite knowing all that you do, you still try to. But what comes out of your mouth is instead:
“You shouldn’t I have bumped me as I was serving!”
It can never be your fault.

“I know,” the man sobs. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry”

1/2

>>2911048
“I’m sure it’s nothing a little bed rest can’t fix.”

“Thank you,” he says through gritted teeth. “Thank you. You’re an...excellent waitress. I can’t wait to come back here again.”

After that, your mood is a little more subdued. You start taking a little more care with the cups. And even though you should probably stop...nobody is saying you’re doing anything wrong. You force cup after cup into people’s hands to the chorus of:

“Of course I’ll buy another! Thank you!”

‘What a wonderful waitress!”

“Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?”

“Hey, Lorenzo! Why didn’t you employ this girl sooner?”

And as a way to try and make up for the damage you’ve undoubtedly caused Lorenzo’s business, you ask every table you visit and check up on if they want another cup. They are unable to say no. And so the people in the caffe become your prisoners, unable to leave, unable to do anything save to order another cup.
And when they leave, they’ll tell everyone about what a good time they had. The truth of what happened this afternoon, the sloppy service and the accidental maiming, will remain trapped behind their lips for the rest of their lives. They might never come again but they’ll recommend it to their friends and family.

The curse is real and its law unbreakable. To it, all knees must bend and all tongues obey.

And after a long afternoon of growing Lorenzo’s business, after the last has left and the caffe is closed, you lean up against the counter with Lorenzo. He is keeping some distance from you.
“That went well.”
You are unable to say anything else.

“Yes,” Lorenzo agrees. “Thank you. Leonarda couldn’t make it today and...well, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Yes...now about fishing!”


>You brought your fishing line so he can show you here.

>Invite him back to your place.

>Try to apologize.

>This was a bad idea. Just leave.

>Ask how Leonarda’s going.

>Other (Specify)

>>2911056
>Try to apologize.
>You brought your fishing line so he can show you here.

>>2911056
>You brought your fishing line so he can show you here.
>Try to apologize.

>>2911056
>Try to apologize.
>This was a bad idea. Just leave.

Man, this is shitty. In fact, this made me realize that we wouldn't be able to get any good advice out of him since he CAN'T critique us. All he can do is say niceties. Kinda useless.

We need to find some way to break this damn curse, honestly.

>>2911090
Maybe he can just use himself as an example and hopefully we'll pick it up.

I'm being optimistic, but in reality we are probably going have to Megaman skills, even non duelist ones

Vote called, writing.

>You brought your fishing line so he can show you here.
>Try to apologize.

You rummage around in your handbag for a moment before pulling out the little wooden spool you’ve been using to hold your fishing line. You had the presence of mind to bring it here rather than ask Lorenzo to follow you all the way back to your house. He would have, had you asked, but you don’t want to waste time.
“Here i-oh wait, should I help you clear out these tables first?”

“No! It’s fine. I can do it all by myself!”

You just stand back and watch as Lorenzo practically runs to stop you from touching anything further. So that’s how it is, huh? You had a suspicion but thanks to your curse you’re never certain. You really screwed everything up. And yet, what can you do that your curse doesn’t overshadow? In the face of it all, only the sword can be honest.
But still, you should try to apologize. And yet you know you can’t. If you try to do it without thinking, you’ll just say something horrible that they’ll have to agree with. But maybe if you just think about it, you can say something to express how you know that you fucked up. Maybe you can’t apologize or admit but you want him to at least know that you’re aware that what you’ve done is bad. Then maybe the true Lorenzo, the Lorenzo the curse dictates that you’ll never ever meet, will at least know that you aren’t some heartless monster.

“I tried my best,” you manage to say.

“I know you did,” he grunts. “And it was more than enough. Honestly, I should be paying you for that. It’s not right you did it for free.”

“No, no, it’s fine! I’m far too pure and generous to accept payment!”
Well, it’s not the same as denying it because you made everything shit but it’ll have to do.
“But I want you to know that I always work hard and do my very best, no matter what! So no matter what happens...please remember that I am always doing my best.”

Silence.
Is it hopeless to try and tell him this? This is the first time the two of you have really spoken since Ormanno outed your secret in front of everyone. Does he understand why you never told him or Leonarda? Or after all this mess, is he just thinking back to everything he said back when he was your client and wondering just how much any of it was his own decision?

But that’s just what you do. No wonder you’re terrible at fishing or being a waitress. You’re a born tyrant. You’re only good at tyrant things. You don’t learn, you take. Just your presence shackles everyone else.
But damn it, that doesn’t has to be how it has to be! You can do and be whatever you want, regardless of what happen when you were named. It started with the duels and it continues here with fishing. It wouldn’t be suitable for someone you were supposed to be to fish for food in the city streets...so that’s exactly what you’ll learn to do. And you’ll learn it the way people learn normally.

1/2

>>2911246
“Anyway, please me to teach me how to fish! But you can do it first. Let me just watch you.”
You can’t ask him for advice or critique. Which is great because he can’t give it. But maybe if you just sit still and watch how he does it, you can see it for yourself.

*****

And that’s how the two of you wound up sitting on the slanted roof of the caffe as the sun set, staining the water with ochre shades. It’s beautiful. They say that the City is best seen at sunset and sunrise and they’re right. Here, the burnt and neon colours of the cityscape take on a whole new aspect. A line dangles into the canal below as Lorenzo fishes.

You’ve been watching him do it for almost an hour now. You’ve certainly attracted some passing attention but you’ve mostly been focussed on watching Lorenzo. He’s not a bad looking man. He’s mature but he’s not old, large but bulky in the sense of both muscle and paunch. He’s very hairy, true, but that’s a positive. And here, with the orange light of the sunset beside yo-

You can’t believe you’re casting a romantic view on a man who is being forced to spend time with you. What are you doing? What is wrong with you? You’re pretty certain that Lorenzo, despite having nothing but silence and kind words, wants nothing to do with you. He was your client and you have betrayed him.

He’s probably not doing this because he likes you.


>But you cannot tell the lie from the truth. So what is the difference?

>Ask about Leonarda.

>Take the line off of him. You’ve learned well enough, you should be able to give it a try now.

>”...I’m very hungry. Do you have anything I could eat?”

>Ask if Paolo has come around again and how the payment has gone.

>”It’s best if I leave.”

>Other (Specify)

>>2911254
>”It’s best if I leave.”

>>2911254
>>Ask about Leonarda.

Wow, she's fucked up.

Also, remind me: we actually can't shittalk ourself?

>>2911271
We cannot. It's why even apologizes for our incompetence come out wrong.

>>2911271
You can't. It's a little looser regarding yourself but still more or less the same.

>>2911254

>>2911267
changing to

>”It’s best if I leave.”

This whole thing is just sad, now.

>>2911254
>>Ask about Leonarda.

Vote called, writing.

File: Never Forget.png (84 KB, 638x230)

84 KB PNG

Reminder.

>”It’s best if I leave.”

It’s possible that you could stay and talk with Lorenzo a little longer...but you’ve learned enough about fishing for one day. And what else would you even say? Would you ask him about his daughter? About Paolo? About the outcome of the last duel?
He’d answer all of them of course and he’d even sound happy about it. But what would be the point? Just so that you can delude yourself into thinking he’s happy that you’re around him? That he might genuinely like you? Now you’re just being selfish.

“I think it’s best if I leave.”
You take the spool from him and wind it back up. You’re even hungrier than when all this began and all you’ve gotten from it is a bunch of dumb shit and a look at what might be some useful fishing technique. You’ve got what you came for so there’s no point hanging around like a bad smell.

You slide off the roof and let yourself drop to the canal below, the springy surface of the water catching you. It’s less awkward than going back down inside the caffe and only hurts your legs a little! And then, without another look back, you depart.
You tried your best. Wasn’t that enough?


*****

Night has fallen by the time you’ve arrived back home. You didn’t even get pestered by Greta to buy a god, you arrived home so late that she must have given up. Sofiana still hangs from the shrine on the wall but she’s starting to lose her shine.

Standing by the window, you look out upon the night sky. It extends in both directions, in the sky above and perfectly reflected upon the water below. And out past the city, water and sky meet at the horizon so flawlessly that you can’t even see where one begins and the other ends.
Beyond your window is a wheeling void of stars in every direction, occluded only by the dark silhouettes of buildings and the lights of the city. The stars in the canal below are outshone by the little floating lanterns bobbing along the surface.

You shudder. For some reason you can’t explain, you’ve started to become a little apprehensive of open windows at night. You don’t understand why, there’s nothing you’re afraid might come through it. Any rapacious man or other sought of assailant would be brought low by your saber. It just creeps you out.

Holding the line in the way Lorenzo showed you, you cast the hook out into the void.

And something tugs on it immediately.

Huh? Did it really work? Was it worth it? You’ve actually managed to do it! You reel it in with shaking hands, spinning the spool so that it collects the line. Whatever it is, it’s pretty damn light! It’s go-

Sitting on the windowsill, hooked at the very end of your fishing line, is a scroll. You quickly unroll it and…

Sofia Pseudonym, you have been called upon to fulfil your side of the contract. Your assignment awaits you in four hours.

1/2

>>2911497
“Motherfuck!”
It’s just your damn summon notice! Why now? Why here? You thought they just came out of the fountain! And to think that this is what you had been so hopeful for. Look at you, Sofia! You sure made the catch of the day!

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry.


>You might as well just go now. Arrive early, get this over with even earlier.

>No, you still have time. You can still catch a fish!

>Give up on fishing but at least get something to eat first before you go.

>Other (Specify)

>>2911502
>You might as well just go now. Arrive early, get this over with even earlier.

>>2911502
>Give up on fishing but at least get something to eat first before you go.

>>2911502
>>Give up on fishing but at least get something to eat first before you go.
No fighting on an empty stomach

>>2911502
>>Give up on fishing but at least get something to eat first before you go.

Vote called, writing.

>Give up on fishing but at least get something to eat first before you go.

No, what’s the point. You’re not a fisherwoman. This was all stupid and just a waste of time. What made you think you could do it in the first place? You finally catch something and it’s just because the City literally wanted you to catch it.
You need to give up this foolish dream and focus on your next client. Whoever they are, whatever their circumstances, you’ve already sworn to protect them. And you won’t be able to do that on an empty stomach.

You make your way back down onto the canal below, stepping past the floating lanterns as you do so. The worst part of all this is...you don’t have to feel this way. If you wanted to, you just could choose to ignore the implications of the curse and just take all the lies at face value. Just act however you want and assume that everyone loves you and that you have done no wrong. It wouldn’t be hard. It would be easy.
But it’s because that it’d be so easy that you feel that you cannot. Anyone can hurt another but because you can do it with no consequence, you feel as if you have a responsibility not to.

Having accepted defeat at the hands of fish everywhere, you take delayed revenge by exchanging coin for a roasted salmon from a street vendor. Just going hungry does nobody any good.

But as you’re leaning against an alleyway wall, sword at your belt and half-eaten fish in your hands, you see a silhouette against the light of the floating lanterns. It’s a short woman, frail and thin and clad in a dark vest and skirt that goes down to her ankle, to the point that it nearly catches the water beneath her feet. She’s loitering outside your townhouse as if afraid to step over the threshold. If you stayed inside and just kept on fishing, it's likely you would never have seen her at all.

It takes you a moment before you recognise her. It’s Leonarda, Lorenzo’s daughter, aspiring humourist and someone you recently shared a pleasant hour with. But that was before she knew the truth about you. What does she want?
It seems impossible that’s it not related to what happened with Lorenzo this evening. But why has she come? Surely she knows that there is nothing she can do to you. Telling you off is impossible. And why else would she be here?


>You don’t want to deal with this right now. Just leave to see your client.

>You should probably at least acknowledge her first.

>Tell her to fuck off. It’d be better for her if she stopped having anything to do with you.

>Other (Specify)

>>2911600
>>You should probably at least acknowledge her first.

>>2911600
>You should probably at least acknowledge her first.
lighthearted quest, sure.

>>2911600
>You should probably at least acknowledge her first.

Just nod.

Y'know. I just thought of something. The curse was 'not a pale WORD' shall be said about her.

Curse didn't say anything about pictographs.

>>2911625
a picture is a thousand words. WORDS

>>2911625
Thinking about it, there's a number of nonverbal communication methods we could use. Pictures, music, sign language perhaps. Even just certain motions with our body. If all of that is restricted then that basically means that not only can she not speak badly, she's just not allowed to develop any kind of creative skills. Which frankly should also mean that she shouldn't even be allowed to fight since that can be interpreted as much as an expression of self as anything else as she's clearly claimed.

>>2911640
dude. It was explicitly mentioned last thread that those don't work. It was explicitly mentioned AGAIN after someone thought it would work.

>>2911618
Are you saying playing an MC that is inept at most tasks and inconveniences anyone she interacts with, forever having to deal with intense loneliness that she can't even admit she has isn't light-hearted?

>>2911645
Really? Yikes, I'm blind. Didn't see that. So she's just fucked?

Might as well just take a vow of silence outside duels, then, and focus solely on her combat skills. Can't build any honest relationships, can't get any honest critique, can't do anything in particular.

Vote called, writing!

>You should probably at least acknowledge her first.

You don’t know what she’s come here to do but whatever it is, it’s worthless. But you should still acknowledge her. You’re not going to just leave and let her waste her time. You’ll acknowledge her. You won’t stop to talk to her. You’ll just let her know that whatever her purpose coming here was, she has completed it and that she can go home.

You’ll just walk out and give her a nod. That’ll be easy.

“Sofia?”
Leonarda looks confused, she probably wasn’t expecting you to step out behind her with a half-eaten salmon in your hands.

You give her a sharp nod and then walk past her. There. Now she’s seen you, now she should realize that whatever insult or instruction she wanted to give you is useless. It’ll die in her mouth.

“Thank you Sofia!”

You stop. You’re not sure why. It’s just fiction.
“Pardon?”

“Thank you for saving me!”
She walks after you but doesn’t follow you the entire way, stopping a few feet from you. There’s a lantern floating between the two of you and in the darkness surrounding it, you’re aware of the same casual uninterested audience that the streets always have.
“And I know you did your best.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Pa didn’t understand it, I think. But I know what you meant when you said that to him. And...and I think I can understand what happened.”

“You don’t. And even if you do, you can’t say it.”

“You’re a good person so I know you must have been trying your best. I don’t believe you would do anything just to be awful. I-if you were, why would you have helped us? And that time we spent together wasn’t a lie either!”

She can say whatever.. This is probably all just a lie. All fiction. She could have come here intending to chew you out and just had her words transformed into that. You can’t trust anything she says.

But still?


>Believe.

>Disbelieve.

>>2911695
>I want to believe
doubt everything. achieve nothing.

....wait that's not an inspiring line. Fine.
>Believe

>>2911695
>Believe

>>2911695
>Disbelieve.

>>2911618
>>2911649
>Fishing is useless. You hate it and you’ll never do it again. This was such a bad idea and you’re a stupid girl for ever thinking of it.
>No wonder you’re terrible at fishing or being a waitress. You’re a born tyrant. You’re only good at tyrant things. You don’t learn, you take. Just your presence shackles everyone else.
>lighthearted quest

Nice work Ouro.

>>2911754
Thanks anon!

Vote called, writing.

>Know everyone's will and words are bent
>Choose to believe them anyway.

>Believe

As you thought before, it would be easy to take her at her world. And maybe, just this once, you will. She came here to visit you after all. You didn’t impose yourself on her. And yes, maybe that was because she just wanted to give you a piece of her mind but isn’t it better to believe that she did it because she cared about you?
Isn’t it more romantic?

So that’s it. You’ll believe her. It’s something that, thanks to your curse, can never be proved but you can at least have faith. If you can believe in your small gods for at least a moment, shouldn’t you also extend that to people as well?
“You really think that?”

Useless question. There is only one way she can answer. But just because she must doesn’t mean that it’s untrue. And you’re going to stop doubting. The alternative is to just accept that there is an impossible void between you and everyone else and what could you even do about that?

“I do,” she says. “I heard about your birthright. But you’re not just a beautiful, invincible and pure-hearted champion, I also think you’re a n-nice person. You wouldn’t be a public defender otherwise.”

What does she mean by that? Does she mean that she sees beneath your own false words? That she knows that you really are just trying as hard as you can? You choose to believe that she is!
“Thank you, Lea,” you say. Of course, your voice won’t waver. “Of course...I’m just the greatest, aren’t I?”

“You are!”

“I am!”

“And I came here to tell you that. Because I-I thought that after this evening you might be feel-”

“Nonsense. I did a great job this evening! I have nothing to feel bad about.”

“You don’t. And I want you to have this.”
She holds out a small bottle. The liquid inside is a dull green streaked with effervescent orange.
“It’s phlegm, mostly.”

“Feelgood phlegm?”

“Yes. But if I came here for anything else besides what I just said, would I have brought it? Would I be giving it to you?”
She pushes it into your unresisting hands.

“I suppose you wouldn’t.”

You still can’t tell if you’re falling or if both feet are solidly planted on the ground. But you choose to believe the latter.

>Make use of her gift. You still have hours left to go before your appointment after all.

>Pocket it for later.

>Invite her up to drink it with you. You know she enjoys it just as much as you do, if not more.

>Ask her how everything’s going. You refuse to let the conversation constantly just be about you and only you.

>Refuse the gift.

>Other (Specify)

>>2911794
>Pocket it for later.
it's only been a day. Is it too early to ask about her?

>>2911806
It's been a few days but yes, that question is more about making Sofia not the centre of the conversation. She tends to monopolise any conversation she's in if she doesn't make an effort not to.

>>2911794
>>Ask her how everything’s going. You refuse to let the conversation constantly just be about you and only you.
>>2911811
oh

>>2911794
>Ask her how everything’s going. You refuse to let the conversation constantly just be about you and only you.

>>2911794
>>Ask her how everything’s going. You refuse to let the conversation constantly just be about you and only you.

Vote called, writing. Was eating.

>Ask her how everything’s going. You refuse to let the conversation constantly just be about you and only you.

You hold the little bottle gently and slide it into your handbag.
“Thank you, I’ll make good use of it. And how have you been doing these past few days? I noticed you weren’t waiting tables today.”
If you are going to believe in Lea, you can’t allow yourself to dominate the conversation. To you, letting other people talk about themselves is something you really have to try at. Your curse means that you tend to absorb all the focus otherwise.

“It’s been going just fine,” Leonarda says, her eyes on your handbag. “I’ve spoken to Pa about it and I think he’s...fine. H-he’ll be alright, just as you told me. A lot of the hospital staff already know me so they’re letting me stay longer and longer. They’ll let me be an apprentice soon.”

“That sounds good,” you say, entirely mystified about the internal workings of the world of humourism. “Learning anything new?”

“All the time. And they let me drain a patient directly yesterday.”

“How does that work anyway?”

“Oh, just a needle, a tube and a funnel. Getting rid of excess bile isn’t just a way to get humours, it’s way to lessen the burden on the donor. You can lose access to an experience or feeling for days at end if enough gets drained away.”

That should sound horrifying. Instead it sounds vaguely tempting.
“That sounds like...a real load-off your shoulders.”

“It is. Now I’m sorry but unless you have need of me, I should probably get going home. I-I got lost on the way here and lost too much time.”
She turns to leave, looking back at you with an uncertain smile. You’ll never know her true feelings.


>”Lea, how do I become a donor?”

>Drink the bottle after she’s gone.

>Drink it with her.

>Keep it for later.

>>2911889
>Keep it for later.
>Feel warm and fuzzy inside naturally for a bit because Lea apparently really was grateful.

>>2911889
>>Keep it for later.
If we try to hug someone are they compelled to not resist?

>>2911922
Your curse has very little effect on people's physical actions. After all, someone can still punch or stab you.
If someone was to shove you away though and had anything to say about it, it'd have to be an excuse or a promise to do it later

>>2911889
>”Lea, how do I become a donor?”
not now though, maybe after the duel

Vote called, writing.

>Keep it for later.

You wave her goodbye, uncaring of the audience the two of you have accrued. She waits around for a moment longer, still looking back as if in expectation of something and then departs. Climbing the stairs back up to your rooms, you pull the little humour bottle back out of your handbag and give it a twirl. You like the way the glass looks when it catches the light but you like the look of what’s within even more. Soon.

But you don’t need it now. No, right now, you have that same infinite warmth blossoming out from inside your chest without the need of any additional humours. Lea apparently really is grateful! She, at least, doesn’t say that only because of your curse. There is still doubt cast over, of course, nobody will ever be free of it in your eyes. But your choice to believe that this time, this one time, the words are genuine makes all the doubts look small.

You place the bottle beneath your makeshift wall-shrine to Sofiana. Perhaps the small gods will enjoy it while you’re gone. You certainly don’t need it right now.

Now where were you? You need to get ready for the upcoming duel! Nothing too strenuous of course, the actual duel itself will stretch your every relevant muscle to the breaking point. You start off with your usual regime of late-night stretches…

*****

You’re still stretching idly a few hours later as you slowly make your way through the Apocalypsis district. It’s a bit of an odd district to walk through during the night, especially with the stars so clear both above and below. You certainly don’t feel particularly at ease but it’s hardly due to danger. No, anyone looking for a woman to jump will feel the edge of your blade and no mistake!

But it is an uncanny area. Apocalypsis is a place of both interest and disquiet to you and to most of the City. On one hand, it helps produce and sell some of the finest fripperies and oddments of City life. But on the other hand it is known for being infested with fascina and it shows.
Strange graffiti makes even stranger marks on building walls. Otherwise ordinary houses occasionally bristle with delicate lenses and scopes growing out of the top of them like a bad haircut. Other places, there is a chemical smell that you cannot quite place. Many of the usual fountains are caged, bars welded over the top of them by constabulary to keep them safe. You stop by a large wall that shows a picture of...nothing. Just a shifting landscape of colours that somehow blends together into a total absence of sensation. And most damning still, you see the occasional shrine on the street or built into people’s houses. And not just a collection of small gods like your own, these are regular places of worship. Practically temples!

1/3

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75 KB JPG

>>2912051
You don’t know how it started but Apocalypsis is a district where people come to look beyond the world.

The sword at your belt stops you from being mostly accosted but even still, a man in a cloak nearly scares you half to death when he stumbles out of an alleyway towards you with a burning torch! Before even thinking, you swat the torch out of his hand and knock it into the water.
“Noo!,” he wails. “I needed it! That was mine! The fire doesn’t burn, it transforms.”

“I did you a favour,” you say sternly.

“Yes, thank you signorina,” he says meekly.

The address of the client in question leads you to a small street entirely off from the canal system, a street fully paved and solid ground all the way through! It’s a pokey little thing, practically just an alleyway framed by decrepit houses.
But as you walk down it, your footsteps sounding unnaturally loud, you notice something odd.

Nobody is here. And you don’t just mean that the street is empty because it’s night. The street isn’t just empty, it’s dusty! There are no candle flames burning in any windows. No lanterns are lit. It’s as if this entire street has been abandoned.

The only light burning is all the way at the far end, where the street ends in a small cul-de-sac. Lantern-light glows in the windows at the last house in the lane. And wouldn’t you know it, it’s the address on the scroll.

You knock on the door and then step back as it opens almost immediately, straightening yourself up while also trying to look nonchalant. You’re dressed to impress in your usual duelling outfit with your coat loosely flared out behind you.

The occupant of the house, and your probable client, is a woman with long blonde hair bright enough that you could almost call it yellow. She’s fairly tall, at 5’9 she’s got three inches on you and both her face and figure are sharp and angular. She’s wearing workman’s clothes, a sturdy tunic over trousers and all squeezed into a leather apron. And yet for whatever reason, all possible practically she might have been going for is offset by her nails and lips, both coloured a deep and glossy black. Her eyes are hidden behind lenses of smoked glass so dark that you almost think she has empty eye-sockets at first. And yet she can’t be any older than you!

An odd sight but really, what were you expecting after seeing all this?

“Good evening, signorina,” you say. “Are you the one who placed the summons?”

She nods, albeit very shallowly so as to not disturb her precarious spectacles and then steps aside, leaving the doorway free for you.
“Yes. Please come in, make yourself at home. My name is Vespa Delicato.”

Vespa Delicato? That’s...that’s not a real name is it? But it matches the name on the scroll and you of all people can’t say anything about that. You have nothing but respect for anyone’s right to redefine themselves however they see fit.

2/3

>>2912052
You take off your dirty shoes and, with them in hand, step over the threshold and into her home. The room beyond is fairly cramped but not due to the dimensions but rather due to the...stuff. Spools of silk, woold and fabric are everywhere, packed into tight little piles and the walls are strung with half-made tapestries, embroidery and knitting patterns. Stained pots of dye are everywhere, though most of them are thankfully empty The only bare spot is a table packed full of little black cases, one of them lying open to reveal a glistening display of needles and pins packed away with uncomfortable neatness. The lantern whose light you saw earlier is also on the table and is an uncomfortably significant fire risk in a room like this.
A spiral staircase in the corner is the only exit, no doubt leading further up into the house. Perhaps her actual living space is beyond there? After all this appears to be a workroom of some sort.

“Please,” Vespa says. “Have a seat.”

There’s a seat? It takes you a moment but you identify a large clump of knitting as a couch that has simply been draped with so many homemade rugs, patterns and cushions to have become unrecognizable. You sit down and sink into it as if it was quicksand.

By the time you look up, she’s stepped onto the staircase.
“I won’t be a moment. What kind of tea do you take?”

You don’t really drink tea. Or at least, you don’t drink tea by itself.


>”I don’t want any tea. I’d rather just discuss your case.”

>”Just whatever you’re having is fine.”

>Insist on following her up.

>”Do you have any coffee?”

>”I only drink bile tea.”

>Other (Specify)

>>2912053
>>Insist on following her up.

>>2912053
>”Just whatever you’re having is fine.”

>>2912053
>"I'm not a fan of tea."

>>2912053
>”Just whatever you’re having is fine.”
>Insist on following her up.

>>2912053
>”Just whatever you’re having is fine.”

Blegh, I dozed off. Vote called and writing.

>”Just whatever you’re having is fine.”

“Oh, I’ll take anything. Whatever you’re having will be fine.”
You watch as your client ascends the stairs up and out of view and hope that it won’t be anything too weird. For a moment you almost want to follow up after her, as if you’re worried about her poisoning you or something. But why would she do that? She’s your client, she needs you.
And why would anyone do that in the first place?

It’s Apocalypsis, you decide. This whole district has you on edge. This weird little lane in particular, full of abandoned houses save this one.

You’ll admit that this client seems to be a bit of a strange one but who are you to judge? Plenty of people would probably call you strange if they were able to do so. But there’s nothing inherently wrong with being...some kind of weaver? Something to do with textiles?

Every single knitted scrap and tapestry around you is pulsating with slow movement, the patterns shifting and moving with a slow ebb and flow that is mildly distracting and, when placed in a room covered with them, a bit distressing for the eyes. You let your gaze roam over them as you wait. They’re all abstract with nary a picture of an actual person or object to be found, which isn’t really the kind of art you’re into. To you, the most interesting thing about visual art is the behaviour of the unreal creatures portrayed within. You especially like to see their reactions.

But it’s not long before you start to spot something familiar in the patterns. The way they uncoil, the long lines of flowing gibberish script...these are cloud patterns! The made-up languages that the clouds spell out above the City. Now that’s a little weird because cloud-reading is stereotypically fascina behaviour but...but it doesn’t have to mean that! Just because she lives in a place like this doesn’t make her fascina herself and there’s nothing wrong with copying patterns from life, especially since the people around here probably love them. She might just be pursuing a particularly targeted business strategy.
You suppose you should accept having a fascina client as inevitable, since they almost always use public defenders anyway. But that doesn’t mean it has to be now!

A lot of fascina are supposed to have a particular obsession with duellists, aren’t they? And if they knew of your particular circumstances...eugh, you’d really rather not have to deal with those kinds of creeps.

Trapped within the impossibly soft couch, you shift a spool of wool and uncover a thin book with a bright white cover and, in black letters embossed on the spine and only the spine, reads:

The Message of the Heavens: A Cloud Reading

Welp, that’s not promising.

1/4

>>2912264
There’s nothing inherently wrong with being a fascina, you guess. It’s certainly not illegal. But they’re strange and they’re laughing stocks and they are, at least to you, just sort of creepy in the essence of what they are. They act like foreigners and that’s no surprise, because the titular Fascination is such an inherently foreign attitude. It’s not how proper citizens are supposed to think.

Aquitae Cogituum is the pinnacle of the world, an existence above the Lesser Realms. And because of that, you know that many things here are possible that are not elsewhere. Barriers and boundaries are relaxed. Whether you call it the Font, the Noumenal or just the Truth, the City is undeniably closer to it than anywhere else. And as a citizen you’re supposed to be proud of that. You’re not supposed to seek any further beyond. And having personally seen the Wake, you’re quite happy to accept that the City is as high as any human should go.

Fascination with the beyond, with the workings of unreality and reality, with the lights that cast the shadows upon the cave wall, with dedicated religion, these are all such foreign ideas. Laughable really. It’s something that just shows how ignorant the people of the Lesser Realms are. They spend their lives searching for things that the citizens of the City take for granted.
It’s not an attitude that citizens are supposed to have.

And that’s the fascina, for you. Slaves to Fascination. They come in an infinite amount of clades and varieties and each one is simply a joke. A weird and creepy joke who is far more dangerous to themselves than they are to anyone else. Useless navel-gazers you would rather not associate with.

You hear footsteps on the stairs above and you cover the book once more just in time for your client to step back down. She’s holding a tray and sitting upon it is a teapot and two chipped cups.
“You’re here earlier than I was told,” she says as she sets cups down in front of you. She just sits cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the low table.

“I like to have time to talk,” you say, your mind still on other things. Does this ‘Vespa’ simply sell materials for a fascina clientele or is she one herself? It probably doesn’t matter but you’d still rather not be in the same room as a fascina, just because you can never be sure what they’re going to do.
Alright...you’ve never actually met a fascina but they show up as plot devices in your romance novels pretty often and they’re always either comic relief or dangerous madmen. People wouldn’t write about them that way if it wasn’t true, right?
You don’t drink the tea.
“Now, I don’t mean to sound abrupt or uncaring, but could you please give me the details? I’ll need to know by the time negotiations arrive.”

2/4

>>2912266
Vespa sighs, as if not sure where to start.
“I truly wish it hadn’t come to this. I honestly can’t believe it’s really happening. But...it’s about a...I suppose you could call him a colleague. Certainly not a friend anymore.”

“Go on.”
It’s important to keep the client talking. Until it’s time for negotiations, at which point it is vital to keep the client silent at all costs. Hopefully this matter is a little less tangled and with less fancy names than the d’Rosarre incident.

“A business partner maybe?”
It looks like she’s still a little concerned about how to classify him to you. Is it that important?

“What’s his name?”

“Marcellino Acciaio. He lives nearby and he’’s a- ...a scholar.”

You hear the catch in her tone and sigh.
“You don’t need to protect his reputation, Signorina Delicato. He’s fascina, isn’t he?”

“Yes. Is that important?”

“It might impact negotiations. Please, continue.”

“I have woven a number of commissions for him in the past and….well, it doesn’t matter.”
You get the feeling that Vespa speaks with as many meaningful pauses as she does actual words.
“I thought things were going well between us. Thought. But lately there’s something he wants to know...something I can’t tell him. And now he’s convinced that it means I’m doing something for his rivals or sabotaging his research. All just because I have one thing I must keep private!”
Her calm and breathy tone breaks for a moment.
“But that’s it. I thought I knew him. But now he’s dragged me up saying it’s a breach of my exclusivity contract.”

“Is it?”

“What?”

“Are you breaching whatever contract you have?”

“No! I swear, it really has nothing to do with him. But he’s so vain...he apparently can’t imagine that there’s a single fact in my life that doesn’t relate to him.”

“Okay. So why not just tell him what it is?”

She pales.
“No. No I cannot. He is the one man who absolutely must never know.”

“It sure sounds like it has something to do with him then.”
You’re starting to lose your patience.

“You are just a gorgeous little thing, aren’t you?”
You watch her blink, that familiar look of befuddlement upon her face. The seamless way your curse works, if you don’t know about it, it’s near impossible to realise that your words are being changed by outside interference.
“I mean, I can tell you’re quite intelligent.”
She flushes a little.

“At least tell me so I know what’s going on.”

“Do you have to know?”

“No, I just have to fight for you but I’d like to know.”

“Okay. But...later alright? I’ll tell you later, after everything important is settled first.”

“I’d like to know.”

“I want to tell you,” she says bemusedly. “But I have a headache. Can we do it later?”

3/4

>>2912267
You know exactly what this is. She’s doing her best to deny you, over and over again. But you can never be denied. The best someone can do is just string you along. Whatever this is, it must be a very precious secret.
“So, because of this secret that he is aware of and has nothing to do with him but you absolutely can’t tell him especially, he’s decided that you’re doing something to breach his contract with you and lying about it?”

“Yes.”
Vespa looks much more comfortable now that she’s on safer ground.
“I really didn’t know that side of him until last week. But now I see I was a fool. He’s a vain fop who only ever saw me as a tool for his own ends. He can’t even handle the fact that I could have something that isn’t for him!”

This is starting to sound like it was more intimate than just a business relationship. And your client has left so many details out that you’re not even sure if this is the truth or not. But if they’re telling the truth, this is a massive overreach on behalf of this Marcellino. He can’t act like he owns this woman! And considering that most contracts are matters of High Law, the fact that he's pursuing this under Sword Law just proves that he knows he can't verify foul play on her part! It all sounds scummy as shit.
Well, it’s still not as messy as what your last duel turned into! Consider the bright side of life before you crawl under a rock forever to die.


>Press her to reveal the secret to you. She will fold.

>”It’s my advice as your representative that you could just tell him and avoid this entire situation. How bad could it be?”

>”Quick question, what’s wrong with this street? Why is everything abandoned?”

>”I’m going to need you to be straight with me, signorina. Are you also fascina?”

>”That’s good enough for me. Now, how have you considered your right to redress after I win? I’d like to have your opinion on that before I enter negotiations.”

>”So were you two fucking or what?”

>Other (Specify)

>>2912268
>Well, I guess I can work with that. It's not like you'd ever lie to me right?
>So this really is how it is and you aren't trying to get around the law yourself, right?

>That's all well and good, but what comes after? Even if you stop him, it looks like your work will be considerably dampened if you never get involved with him again. ....er, JUST work, right?

>>2912268
>>”Quick question, what’s wrong with this street? Why is everything abandoned?”
>
>>”I’m going to need you to be straight with me, signorina. Are you also fascina?”
>
>>”That’s good enough for me. Now, how have you considered your right to redress after I win? I’d like to have your opinion on that before I enter negotiations.”

File: fleksnek.png (13 KB, 400x400)

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I am tired and it is past midnight. I'm going to sleep and the vote will remain open until I wake and resume the session in the morning.

I hope you all had fun!

>>2912268
>>”Quick question, what’s wrong with this street? Why is everything abandoned?”

>>2912268
>”Quick question, what’s wrong with this street? Why is everything abandoned?”
>”That’s good enough for me. Now, how have you considered your right to redress after I win? I’d like to have your opinion on that before I enter negotiations.”

>>2912268

>”I’m going to need you to be straight with me, signorina. Are you also fascina?”
>”Quick question, what’s wrong with this street? Why is everything abandoned?”
>”It’s my advice as your representative that you could just tell him and avoid this entire situation. How bad could it be?”

>>2912268
>”Quick question, what’s wrong with this street? Why is everything abandoned?”

>”I’m going to need you to be straight with me, signorina. Are you also fascina?”

>”That’s good enough for me. Now, how have you considered your right to redress after I win? I’d like to have your opinion on that before I enter negotiations.”

>”So were you two fucking or what?”

Vote called, session resumes in an hour!

>”I’m going to need you to be straight with me, signorina. Are you also fascina?”
>”Quick question, what’s wrong with this street? Why is everything abandoned?”
>”That’s good enough for me. Now, how have you considered your right to redress after I win? I’d like to have your opinion on that before I enter negotiations.”

You decide to drop the questioning on her secret for now, you can tell that you’re distressing her. She doesn’t understand why she’s saying the things she is. And considering the kind of neighborhood you’re in, you don’t really want to come clean. You’d probably get all sorts of weirdos sniffing after you in search of the Absolute.
And you don’t really need to know the origin point of this sordid affair to fight and end it. To fight for strangers and for the inscrutable is your job.

And besides, you have two other questions that are much more pertinent to your situation.
“Fear not Signorina Delicato, you have a right to a defender and it will not go to waste. But there are a few things that I want to clear up first.”

“Of course! Ask whatever you want!”
You wonder what excuse she has in her own head about why she’s being so open with you.

“I’m not going to ask you anything personal,” you lie. “But I’m going to need you to be straight with me, Signorina. Are you also fascina?”

“Uh…”

“I’d just like to know, is all.”

“...So what? There’s nothing wrong with it!”
And ah, there it goes. All odds of your client being a normal person with a lucrative marketing strategy has gone up in smoke.

“Of course not,” you say soothingly. “But it’s all a bit silly, isn’t it? It’s the kind of thing foreigners care about.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being interested,” she says heatedly. “Some things deserve to be Fascinated with! I mean, weren’t the First Electors just like us? They wanted to see beyond the curtain. They were fascina too!”

“Oh, edgy. But it was different for them, they were in the Lesser Realms. There’s no need for that anymore thanks to them.”
You hope she doesn’t say that little opinion too often. People mostly tolerate fascina but not when it impinges upon civic pride. Saying that to the wrong person could be unfortunate.
“So this is what you do? You try to translate the clouds or whatever?”

“Yes. I’m glad you’re so kind and understanding.”
It is a little amusing, you suppose, for a fascina to be so bewildered by the presence of a bona fide piece of Truth standing right in front of her.

“They’re just gibberish you know.”

1/2

>>2913751
“I know that. But if you could read cloudscript and attach a meaning to it, it puts you in the mind-state to attach meaning to other meaningless things. Like life. If I can translate the clouds, I can translate everything else.”
She runs her fingers through her yellow hair.
“You’re a duellist. So you must understand that there is more to this all than just this.”

“I musn’t,” you say flatly. There’s a reason duellists aren’t fascina. Anyone who would give in to the pull of the Wake would never return from the ego death.
“But now I understand you a little better. Here is another curiosity. Why is this street abandoned? Every house here save yours looks as if nobody has lived here for years.”

You don’t know what kind of reaction you were expecting but it wasn’t this. Vespa hiccups just a little, a tight little interrupted sob and she hastily pushes her spectacles right back up against her eyes. But it’s too late, you already see the tear.
“N-nothing,” she stutters.

“Really?”

“People just moved away and nobody ever arrived. ...I don’t think many people know this lane even exists. That’s all.”

You were going to ask her about her rights to redress but that reaction makes you stop. She is clearly lying to you yet again. If you pushed, you could probably break her. But is it really any of your business?


>Push it. You're about to fight a duel for this woman!

>Let it be. You don’t have an obligation to know.

>>2913754
>Let it be. You don’t have an obligation to know.

>>2913754
>Let it be. You don’t have an obligation to know.

>>2913754

>Let it be. You don’t have an obligation to know.

>>2913754
>>Let it be. You don’t have an obligation to know.

Jesus, let's just do our job and go. Everyone's got shit happening, we really don't need to keep harping on this.

Vote called, writing.

I don't know why this took so long.

>Let it be. You don’t have an obligation to know.

You sigh and choose not to pursue this any further. Just let it be. You don’t have an obligation to know and to act as if you did would be to just be like this Marcellino idiot. If she doesn’t want to tell you the details, she doesn’t have to. It’s not your job to understand.

“Fine. I can tell you’re lying but I don’t mind. Now, have you considered your right to redress. When I win you’ll be able to claim compensation for whatever hassle you’ve been put through.”

“I...can demand anything?”

“No. It’s not that simple and the challenger has a lot of power in negotiating the terms. I’ll have to match his offer or else risk giving him the excuse to choose another. Do you know what his demands are?”

She taps a black fingernail against the desk in agitation.
“I can guess. He wants me to be open with him and keep no secrets. Can he request that?”

“Absolutely. And if you were to refuse to comply, he would have the right to settle this under High Law. And trust me, the lawyers won’t be happy about having to waste their time.”

She somehow manages to get even paler.
“Lawyers? I don’t want anything to do with a lawyer!”

“Nobody does,” you say with conviction. If only your parents had been of the same mind. “But it doesn’t matter because I’m going to win. I’m undefeated. But what do you want on around the same scale as that? You probably can’t ask for coin unless you can prove damages.”

“I just wish that none of this had ever happened.”

“Understandable. A common right to redress is to require the challenger to never willingly come into contact with you again. Would that be enough?”

“Well...I think I still want to see him.”
Vespa speaks slowly enough and with enough pauses that you could probably leave the room halfway through a sentence for a jog and you wouldn’t have missed anything by the time you get back.
“If only none of this could have happened. Then I could still...think he was someone else.”

“Well I can’t turn back time. What kind of compensation would be best?”

“...I don’t know. I’m not sure what the point is.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“It’s not important. You’ll win, right! Because if he gets what he wants I think everything will be all over.”

“Oh no damn it, look, I don’t care about whatever your deal is! So stop being cryptic about it! Just tell me what terms you’d prefer!”
This whole situation, when combined with awful your day has been thus far, has you on edge. Any good feeling left over from Lea’s visit is more or less gone. That’s just great.

“I don’t know!”

“Okay. Cool. Good. That’s nice. Let’s just wait for the challenger to arrive, shall we?”


1/2

>>2914075
*****

An awkward stretch of time later, spent mostly with you sitting half-absorbed in the couch, tea sitting in front of you pointedly undrunk and not saying a word. Vespa doesn’t say much either, flitting in and out of the room with a progressively more and more distressed look on her face.

You look up gratefully when the door to the street beyond opens and two men walk in. The first is a young man of thoroughly average looks, brown-haired and the same height as you. You then stop paying attention to him to pick up any further details, your eyes fixing on the man behind him instead. He’s an old man, stooped but tall, his balding close-cut hair an iron gray. He’s dressed simply enough in just a plain gray shirt, white breeches and a matching waistcoat. He wears a cintura much like your own, save that it is draped around his shoulders as a scarf rather than as the makeshift sash you’ve been using yours for.
And in both his hands is an ornate tin scabbard crowned with the basket hilt of the sabre inside.

Hrm, that’s odd. Duelling is generally a young man’s game. But you don’t fit the ‘man’ part of that so can you really begrudge him for not suiting the ‘young’. Which means that this fucking nobody must be the Marcellino that has caused your client so much cryptic distress.

Speaking of which, Vespa wrings her hands.
“Marc-”

“Hold on,” you say, cutting her off. “The clients will not speak.”

The old duellist chuckles.
“So you’re a traditionalist, are you? I’m Signore Albero. And you?”
He stands as if looking for a place to sit but you pointedly do not vacate the couch.

“Sofia Pseudonym, public defender.”

You’re expecting a compliment at this point, the result of your curse ambushing some snide remark about your profession but it does not come. He just raises an eyebrow and leers, both of which make you feel vaguely sullied in some abstract, metaphysical way.
“A public defender, eh? And what school are you from?”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve never heard of you. What’s your style?”
>”Winning.”

>”You’ll find out.”

>”Well I can’t say I’ve ever heard of you either. Aren’t you a little old for this?”

>”I’m guessing you don’t belong to a Ring. So what gutter-rank do you frequent?”

>Give your instructor’s name. There’s no reason to be rude.

>Other (Specify)

>>2914078
>>”You’ll find out.”

>>2914078

>”You’ll find out.”

>>2914078
> Give my Instructor's name

Vote called, writing!

>”You’ll find out.”

Hah! Is he really trying to scope you out before the duel has even begun? You’re not going to make it that easy for him.
“You’ll find out soon enough. Until then, it’s none of your business.”

He loses that skeevy playful look, something you are incredibly thankful for.
“I see. So you just want to get right down to business, do you?”

“Yes. It is, after all, literally our business.”

“Well, you’ll have to forgive an old man his tangents. Why, when I was youn-”

“No.”
He stops talking, shocked at your interruption and unable to gainsay you.
“I’ll be honest to everyone in this room right now. I have had an exceedingly frustrating day and tonight has not been getting any better. I don’t care about the drama between these two and I don’t care about whatever stupid ‘ohohoho I’m just an old man’ bullshit spiel you want to do. I’m sure you have a very interesting story behind you but I don’t want to know. The only thing I care about here is getting my client off the hook. So tell me your terms.”

You draw an incredible satisfaction from the looks on all three of their faces. Seated here, with the rest of them arrayed around you, it’s easy to forget your place. Easy to think tyrant thoughts.

Signore Albero is first to speak. His face has settled into something inscrutable.
“So be it. If I win, my client requests that the terms of the contract be honored and that the challenged freely divulges any withheld business information she might have.”

“I don’t have any!,” Vespa shrieks, a far cry from her usual slow and desolate tone. “You have to believe me! I can’t-”

“Please be quiet, Signorina Delicato,” you say. “Don’t worry. I...I realise now that I may not have been the most comforting to you but I will win. You don’t have to worry about anything. And when I win, I demand that…”


>”...that the challenger avoid my client for the rest of his life!” It might not be what Vespa wants but you’re making a decision on her behalf.

>”...the contract between the two is rendered null and void! No further obligations on either side.” You don’t know the full story here so this is nice and safe.

>”...the challenger must publically debase himself and admit that he acted without cause, wasted everyone’s time and ruined whatever he had going on here.” Probably deserved.

>Other (Specify)

>>2914243
>>”...the contract between the two is rendered null and void! No further obligations on either side.” You don’t know the full story here so this is nice and safe.

>>2914243

>”...the contract between the two is rendered null and void! No further obligations on either side.” You don’t know the full story here so this is nice and safe.

>>2914243
>Since my client has been very recalcitrant on my wanting a full overview of the situation.

>”...the contract between the two is rendered null and void! No further obligations on either side.” You don’t know the full story here so this is nice and safe.

>”...the contract between the two is rendered null and void! No further obligations on either side.” You don’t know the full story here so this is nice and safe.

It’s probably best not to overstep your bounds more than you already have. You have to remember, just because you’re frustrated, that doesn’t mean that these aren’t real people with real problems. This might just be a day’s job for you but it could change your client’s life forever. Or...end it, by the way she’s been acting.

“I demand that the contract between the two be rendered null and void! No further obligations on either side.”

“Hold it!”
And here comes Marcellino, daring to raise his voice.
“The contract is inviolable! She’s breaking it already by not giving me what she owes, she’s withholding on me, she can’t be allowed to get away from it entirely a-”

Signore Albero grabs hold of his shoulder, almost forcefully pulling his client back behind him.
“She can and she will. If you didn’t want that, you shouldn’t have taken this to the duel in the first place.”

“I-I hired you!”

“Yes and? You hired me to represent you under Sword Law. Trust me when I say that’s what I’m doing. But if you keep talking it’ll only look worse if you ever have to bring this up before the courts.”
He turns back to you.
“Pardon the intrustion, Signorina...Pseudonym? I accept these terms without complaint.”

“Thank you. My apologies for your client.”

“Troublesome clients are just a fact of life, aren’t they?”

You favour Vespa Delicato with a long stare.
“Yes. yes they are. Mine is also particularly recalcitrant. I can admit that though, I’m a public defender, I am simply assigned to people. So…”

“So you’re surprised by me saying the same thing, even though as a pro I have to market myself to my clients? You’d be surprised. I prefer to sell myself with results not my bedside manner.”

“So you’re a real pro, huh? Surprised your client can afford you.”

“I’m not and he can’t. You know what I mean.”
You do. Just as you suspected, he’s a gutter duellist. It’s a derogatory term used for those professional duellists with the lowest rates and the dirtiest jobs. They’re still a rank above the likes of you though.
“I’m just here to do my job and get it done,” he says. “Now, what do you say about time and place?”

What place indeed?


>Just a canal is fine. It’s practically tradition after all.

>The abandoned street outside. No water to soften the fall and full of desolate stone and hard edges.

>The roof of your house again. You think you’re really getting the hang of that confined little arena.

>A proper arena, one guaranteed to have a casual crowd. You want your first fight against a real duellist to be seen!

> Other (Specify)

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84 KB JPG

>>2914448
>Just a canal is fine. It’s practically tradition after all.

>>2914448
>Just a canal is fine. It’s practically tradition after all.

>>2914448
>Just a canal is fine. It’s practically tradition after all.

Vote called, writing.

>Just a canal is fine. It’s practically tradition after all.

“A canal will do just fine. There’s not one right outside but there’s one just down the end of this street. Any objections?”

“No,” the old man says. “And the time?”

This one is a little more tricky. As tempting as it would be to declare that the duel should start right now and damn the consequences, you might run into an issue. This Signore Albero...he might be a cheap duellist but he’s also pretty old. Why would anyone hire him at all? It can’t be for his endurance, his strength or even the keenness of his senses. There must be something to him that keeps him in the game.
Some sort of a trick? A strange style? He’s definitely got something up his sleeve. And unlike the d’Rosarre brothers, he’s an actual factual duellist with a record that people should know about. So if you get some time beforehand, you might be able to learn about what you’re up against and how best to deal with it. Maybe you’ll even be able to get some context for this inexplicable duel in the first place!

The same also applies in the other direction, of course.


>”Right now! Get your sword, get ready and get going. I’m looking to have an early night, you see.”

>”In an hour’s time, later tonight. I hope you can fight in the dark.” This should give you some time.

>”Let’s say tomorrow morning. I’d like to get a bit of sleep in beforehand.” This should give you a lot of time.

>Other (Specify)

>>2914528

>”Let’s say tomorrow morning. I’d like to get a bit of sleep in beforehand.” This should give you a lot of time.

>>2914528
>”Let’s say tomorrow morning. I’d like to get a bit of sleep in beforehand.” This should give you a lot of time.

>>2914528
>”Let’s say tomorrow morning. I’d like to get a bit of sleep in beforehand.” This should give you a lot of time.

Vote called, writing.

>”Let’s say tomorrow morning. I’d like to get a bit of sleep in beforehand.” This should give you a lot of time.

Just because you don’t know the circumstances of this duel doesn’t mean you can afford to not try your best. And besides, this day feels a little tainted anyway. You’d rather have it safely behind you so that you can start tomorrow off with a victory! You could use some proper rest and relaxation as well.
“Let’s say tomorrow morning. I’d like to get a bit of sleep in beforehand.”
As you say this, you finally lever yourself from the suffocating couch, brushing off an impromptu cloudscript scarf as you do so.

Your opponent nods.
“Is dawn acceptable?”

“It’ll do.”

“Hrmph. Then I’ll need to sharpen my sword myself.”

Oh, you hadn’t thought of that! A duel at dawn means no dawnlight ritual to sharpen your sabres edge upon.
“Me too! Though I’ll finish it soon enough that there’ll still be dawn light by the time you’re bleeding at my feet.”

“I daresay you will. I can’t beat you.”

You’re more than happy to leave them to puzzle over that strange admission and you make your way to over to the door. But before you can cross the threshold, a black-nailed hand grabs your arm! Stifling the panic-urge to draw your sword, you look back up at your client.
“Where are you going?,” she begs. “I need you!”

“You’ll need me more in the morning. I’m going to go prepare myself. And the rest of you are leaving with me. You’re not talking to my client without me around!”
You hope that she feels unfulfilled. You hope that she’s having just as bad a day as you.

The night sky looms above as you stand outside in the midst of the empty houses. If it cares about your predicament, it shows no sign. And nor should it. You still have work to do before you sleep.


>You need to get some information on Signore Albero first.

>You need to go home and train and work all of this out of your system!

>You need to talk to a friend.

>Investigate the empty houses.

>Other (Specify)

>>2914625
>>You need to get some information on Signore Albero first.

>>2914625

>Investigate the empty houses.

>>2914625
>You need to get some information on Signore Albero first.

Vote called, writing.

>You need to get some information on Signore Albero first.

To be forewarned is to be forearmed. Well, you’re always armed anyway but still! There has to be some trick to your opponent or else even as a cheap duellist, nobody would ever hire him! He has something up his sleeve and you don’t intend to be surprised by it.

But who could you ask about him at this hour? You’ve never visited the official hall of records, it’s too close to the High Courts to your liking but it’s probably closed by now. The Court of Swords itself is always available but it’s just a fountain. It’ll be able to tell you everything but there’s no guarantee that you’ll understand it. And out of all the people you know who you might be able to ask...you can only think of one with the duelling experience to possibly have met this Signore Albero before.

So what should you do?


>Make a late-night pilgrimage to the Court of Swords.

>Visit yourself upon your old instructor.

>Ask the man himself and let your curse do the work.

>Other (Specify)

>>2914716
>Visit yourself upon your old instructor.

>inb4 this is another horribly awkward conversation where the person doesn't want us around.

>>2914716
>>Visit yourself upon your old instructor.
we gonna get chewed out, aren't we?

>>2914716
>Visit yourself upon your old instructor.

Been feeling kinda sick all day. But never fear, the vote has been called and I am writing!

>Visit yourself upon your old instructor.

The only person you know who would have enough experience to have possibly met the old man before would have to be your old instructor. You’ve got what you might charitably call a ‘history’ with them but their own record goes way back before they ever met you.
A public defender themselves, they used to be a pretty important pro before an injury forced them into the scrub leagues. If anyone knows, it’s them.

You also owe them a lot. If if hadn’t been for the instruction, you would never have been able to become a duellist. And you might never have escaped your family. Oh granted, you could have escaped your family whenever you wished, you just needed the will to do it. And for a long time in your life...a will hadn’t been there.
But after the debacle when they found that you were bloodless...knowing that you finally had a skill outside of tyranny is what gave you the push you needed to leave them behind for good. Because you knew that you could make it on your own, that you could help the people who needed it most and that you were more than what you were born to be.

You haven’t seen your instructor for almost a week now, since the day you finally got accepted into the City’s service. They didn’t even show up to congratulate you on your debut.
Well no matter! You can tell them everything!

And maybe you could even pick up a few more tips as well. After all, your mentor is…


>A master of the fundamentals first and foremost, of basic techniques and solid grounding.

>A master of predictive duelling, of seeing your opponent’s next move before they even think to do it.

>A master of positioning and footwork, of building up an unbeatable advantage before ending the duel in a single strike.

>A master of unbreakable resolve and composure, who can never lose their nerve or let their guard fall.


They probably won’t enjoy you coming this late at night though. The last time that happened was a certain regrettable incident where you mistook their instruction of you for...well, something more romantic than that. That had been thoroughly embarrassing. But what can you say? You’ve only ever had two passions in life: finding true love and mastering the sword.
You’d gotten your wires crossed, even though your instructor is…

>A man.

>A woman.

>>2914838
>A master of positioning and footwork, of building up an unbeatable advantage before ending the duel in a single strike.

>A man.

>>2914838
>A master of predictive duelling, of seeing your opponent’s next move before they even think to do it.
>A woman.

>>2914838
>A master of the fundamentals first and foremost, of basic techniques and solid grounding.
>A man

>>2914838
>A master of predictive duelling, of seeing your opponent’s next move before they even think to do it.
>a man

Alright, vote called and writing.

>A master of predictive duelling, of seeing your opponent’s next move before they even think to do it.
>A man.

His name is Lanzo Croce and he’s taught you everything you know. Isn’t it amazing that you were taught anything at all? Yes, your skill with the sword wasn’t something you took as a trophy from anyone. Your parents hired him as fencing instructor for your older brother and though it had never been intended for you, nobody could stop you from taking part. And you still remember the growing realisation you eventually had, that the praise you got for your swordwork was genuine. It wasn’t like piano or the harp or the viola or your needlework or your small talk, all hideous things that you were used to people praising you for because you held all their hearts imprisoned. When you did well in a sparring session...that was something you could see for yourself, it wasn’t a lie.
And it was something you could actually learn.

Lanzo set your heart free that day, though it would take you several years to recognise it.

He lives in the Imago district, the same area of the city as you, so his place is practically on the way home. You have so much you want to talk to him about!

His house is a small and humble one but it’s not because he’s a humble man. Anything but, really. But these are the circumstances he’s been forced into. After his leg injury destroyed his professional career, he did some work as an instructor for children for a while but...you suppose you indirectly ruined that. And with that out of the way, he serves as a public defender just like you.
You’re happy about that, in a way. At least it means you’ll never have to fight him.

You knock on the door loud enough that he surely can’t miss it, even if he’s already gone to sleep. His little shack only has, what, four rooms? One more than you do.
“Hello? Sorry to bother you! Lanzo? Signore Croce? It’s me, Sofia!”

The door is swiftly wrenched open to reveal a wiry man in his middle years, his black hair and goatee shot through with strands of silver. He’s only wearing a hastily tied together robe, revealing a bare chest that, while it may have gone somewhat lithe, is still veritably chiselled.
He stands before you even-footed, despite the fact that one of his legs ends in a scarred stump just below the knee. It’s as if he’s resting his weight on a leg that isn’t even there anymore and to be honest, that’s exactly what he’s doing.
You can say whatever you want about your old mentor but you can’t say he ever gave up! Even if he’s lost a leg, he’s still got one damn fine phantom limb.

“Sofia...what are you doing here?”
His voice is soft and gravelly and, regardless of what he actually means or the best efforts of your curse, always contrives to sound disappointed in something.

1/3

>>2915095
You look him in the pale yellow eyes, doing your best not to look at his stump. That’s not just for your comfort, it’s for his. His leg only works as good as it does when he’s forgotten that it’s not there.
“Sorry Lanzo, there’s something I need to ask you.”

“Oh by all means come in.”

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“Nonsense! Why would I ever begrudge a visit from my darling student?”

You’ll admit it. In order to secure Lanzo’s instruction, you sort of forced yourself into the position. But you feel like he’s warmed up to you a lot since then! His own duelling style is a thoughtful and predictive one, all about knowing what your opponent does before they do. It’d be an understatement to say that his way of duelling has influenced yours considerably. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have the Elegance you do.
So to imagine that he might secretly hate you would be devastating! So you don’t.

He doesn’t invite you in for some reason so you just walk in right past him. His place is meagre but clean, with not even a single speck of dust out of place. Lanzo leans up against the wall and doesn’t ask you to take a seat or offers you a drink.
“What is it? I don’t imagine you’ve come to spar at this hour.”

“But if I did, would you let me?”

“Of course.”

“Well that’s not it. It’s...it’s just that it’s been a few days since my debut, you know. I’ve already had my first duel as a public defender! I thought you might have come to congratulate me.”
But he didn’t.

“I heard about the result. Well done.”

“And you mean that?”

“Yes. Anyone would be proud to have called you their student.”

“So why didn’t you come?”

“I didn’t see the need. Wasn’t victory enough? What would my words add to it? I know you’re not one who can put stock in words, Sofia. You are an excellent duellist and you have boundless potential but listen, anyone can say that to you. You wouldn’t believe it.”

“I’d believe them if they came from you!.”
You ball your fists and stare at the ground. You’re not sure why you’re getting so upset about this. You’re past all this, aren’t you? You don’t need him to say anything.

And it’s while you’re standing there that he rests his hand upon your head and tousles your hair lightly.
“I’m sorry. I thought that congratulating you would be a meaningless gesture. I’m afraid I’m not a very good teacher, not in the way that matters. And I know these are just words but I am proud of what you’ve done. And do you know why?”

You don’t reply, you just shake your head. You’re too busy soaking it all up like a sponge.

2/3

>>2915101
“Until I became a public defender, I don’t think I knew what duelling was about. I just fought because I was good at it, because I could. But fighting for people who need you and don’t have any other alternative is an entirely different...thing. And to think that I didn’t even do this until I was forced to, it makes me feel a wretch. Like all those duels I fought before were just wasted. So when I see you, someone with so much potential and talent, choose this path from the very beginning...how could I not tell you I was proud?”
He pauses for a moment, punctuating his words with a long yawn.
“Do you feel better now?”

Needless to say, Lanzo has a long history of knowing exactly how to mollify you. How could he not?

>Believe

>Disbelieve.

>>2915105
>Believe
Might as well.

>>2915105
>Believe
We don't have time to feel shitty right now.

>>2915105
>Believe

>Believe

You’ll take this on faith for now and overlook things like Lanzo not inviting you in or showing you any hospitality as just him being tired and maybe a little irritated that you’ve come at this late hour. But his words can still have value to you, especially that bit about being a public defender. What you do is right and even if that means you have to fight a duel for people you don’t care about and for entirely inexplicable reasons, you still have to do it! You can’t let the cluster of anxiety that’s knotted up inside of you ever since this afternoon with Lorenzo rule the rest of the day.

And so, to business.
“Thank you. But there’s something more important I’ve come to ask you. Do you know any ‘Signore Albero’? He’s a duellist, even older than you!”

Lanzo rubs his stubbled chin.
“The name certainly rings a bell. Is that old dog still working?”

“Apparently! You know him?”

“We’ve fought before. Back when I was whole and he was younger. Must have been twenty years ago. I’ve heard bits about him ever since then, here and there. He was quite the monster in his younger days.”

“Great. But now he’s just a washed up old fool swinging swords in the gutter for fascina. Is there anything you can tell me about his fighting style?”

“Give me a moment. Alright, the first thing you should know is that if he hasn’t changed, he’s a sadistic old devil! The more he pummels you into the corner, the harder he finds it to hold back and the more openings he accrues. That’s good but its not easy to outlast. A lustful sword carries a lot more weight. He does his best work when he can predict you, a lot of skillful little tricks that don’t always work if you don’t move how he thinks you will. He’ll try to get a handle on the ebb and flow of your offence and defence so don’t make it easy for him. He’s going to try and rattle you, set you on the back foot and from there you might never recover.”

“Thank you Lanzo...but that won’t be enough. Get your sword and show me what he does! Instruct me!”

It’s one thing to be told how he fights, you need to clash blades to understand. And he cannot refuse you.


>Which aspect should you focus on learning? This will give you insight into his Techniques and Abilities! Due to taking a full night instead of just a few hours, your selection will reveal two mechanical facts to you rather than just one!


>His sadistic offense. How does it work? How can you best counter it?

>The way he might try to read your ebb and flow. If you can know that, you can try to become unreadable.

>How he might try to rattle you and get you off guard.

>>2915236
>>The way he might try to read your ebb and flow. If you can know that, you can try to become unreadable.

>>2915236
>The way he might try to read your ebb and flow. If you can know that, you can try to become unreadable.
then sleep/prepare/investigate the area

File: flaaaaaaake.png (5 KB, 400x400)

5 KB PNG

Sorry guys, I've been sick and tired all day. I'm going to rest for a few hours and then continue in a bit.
Voting will remain open until then.

>>2915285
Support

Also good job Ouro this curse thing has given me profound anxiety about every NPC interaction.

>>2915236
>The way he might try to read your ebb and flow. If you can know that, you can try to become unreadable.

I am refreshed, at least a little. Vote called and writing.

>The way he might try to read your ebb and flow. If you can know that, you can try to become unreadable.

You force Lanzo to spend over an hour sparring with you, doing his best to replicate what he remembered of Signore Albero’s fighting style. You specifically ask him to focus on how he apparently tries to ‘read’ the fighting style of his opponent, to try and outthink them at their own game. Not only is it something close to both yours and Lanzo’s specialities, it reminds you of something he had said earlier. He had tried to get you to disclose your instructor!
Looking back, he obviously wanted to know in order to get an edge in one of his little games.

You’re not sure if Lanzo, despite his earlier words, is entirely happy with having to spend his night this way but what other choice does he have? He’s always indulged you. And by the end of it, even though every inch of you is dripping with sweat, you have acquired a small idea of what it might be like to fight Signore Albero.
He’s too old to rely on power, endurance or even speed. Instead he’s going to try and predict you and undermine your every move. And you think you know some of the tools he might employ to that effect.

>You have attained knowledge of two of Signore Albero’s Techniques! You have not learned them, far from it, but now you can plan for them without needing to see them during the duel first.

>Third Eye Staring: [STANCE]If your opponent uses a Technique in the same category as the Technique they performed last, add a d4 into your Technique Pool. Can only be active while you have d6s in your Composure Pool.

>Circle Guard: [TRICK]Your opponent cannot siphon dice into their Strike Pool this round. If they attempt to, destroy the single lowest die in their Technique Pool. This Technique cannot be used if your Technique Pool is empty.

“Thank you, Signore Croce!”
You give him a bow, short and sharp. It causes your loose ponytail to fall forward over your face, stinging your eyes.
“Have a good night’s sleep.”

“I pray for it every night.”

You leave his little home with a new spring in your step, your heart exhilarated as much as your muscles are tired. And it’s not just this new and vital information. What Lanzo said to you about being a public defender has reminded you of your own resolve. Just because the particulars of this case are uncomfortable, just because you feel alienated by your own client, that doesn’t mean you can let yourself be swayed from your duty!
Because if you did, you wouldn’t be the person Lanzo spoke of so glowingly. And that applies even if it was a lie. You can believe in a lie and it doesn’t even need to be true to be important.

You should probably apologise to Vespa. You won’t though.

1/2

>>2915394
******

As always, you awake an hour before dawn. The City is still quite cold at this point, still blanketed by the perpetual fog and wayward clouds that only the full light of the sun will banish. Faint white pre-dawn gleams along the horizon and will continue to do so for quite some time. The sun has already risen in the Lesser Realms but it will take some time for it to climb high enough to breach the City’s horizon.

But when it does, you will have a duel to fight.


>Perform your usual morning routine. Some light training, a morning run, a visit to the D’Amare fountain, probably spend money you can’t afford on another god to replace Sofiana.

>Visit a friend.

>Indulge in the phlegm bottle still sitting unopened in the corner.

>Make your way to Apocalypsis early. You want to investigate all those empty houses while you have the time.

>Other (Specify)

>>2915397
>>Visit a friend

>>2915397
>>Make your way to Apocalypsis early. You want to investigate all those empty houses while you have the time.

>>2915397
>Make your way to Apocalypsis early. You want to investigate all those empty houses while you have the time.
>Smell the phlegm bottle but do not partake of it yet. Save it for post battle.

Vote called, writing.

>Make your way to Apocalypsis early. You want to investigate all those empty houses while you have the time.

Before you leave, you uncork the little bottle full of green and orange-streaked humours that’s still sitting in the corner of your apartment. Come to think of it, Lea didn’t even say what was in this one. Could it be...a special recipe? She might have mixed it especially for you!
You don’t sip it. You don’t so much as run your finger through the residue at the neck of the bottle and lick it. But you take a little sniff all the same.

Even that is enough to let you leave your street while walking on sunshine.

****

Maybe that’s enough to lighten your mood or maybe it’s just the prospect of a fresh new day but now in the soft white light, Apocalypse really doesn’t look as bad as it did last night. The light of an up and coming new day makes once-sinister features and people into simply being quirky and odd.
Like, sure, that massive array of lenses probably isn’t being put towards a wholesome or constructive use but doesn’t it all look pretty?

And the graffiti is just idiosyncratic. People paint and vandalize all over the City but only here in Apocalypsis do they do it with such purpose. You exchange high fives with a collection of painted figures, stick-thin creatures with glowing suns for heads. Not that they even take notice of you of course. You can’t expect a drawing to see beyond its own two-dimensional plane, any more than you expect your reflection to know you exist or that its own life only extends to a few seconds.
With that in mind, you watch your reflection walk ahead of you for a moment around the bend and with a smile on her face, reach the edge of the water and disappear. She didn’t even know she was dying.

You stop for a moment and listen to a small crowd of people gathered by a shrine. Atop the plinth is a sculpture of a humanoid figure, both man and woman, with seven different arms. Probably imported up from the Lesser Realms. And even though the idea of worshipping something as ephemeral as a god for your whole life seems fundamentally strange to you, you suppose you can see a link between it and your small god collection. It’s foreign and thus a little stupid but is it so harmful?
That said, you certainly don’t see yourself ever becoming more than just a religious hobbyist.

But unfortunately not even the new day can make Vespa’s abandoned little lane any less creepy. The empty houses leer at you, windows gazing down at you like the eyes of some massive insect. Dust hangs in the air and you can see still the footprints you left on the cobblestones last night.
If anything, the light just makes you even more aware of how little sense this entire street makes. Why hasn’t anyone else moved in? And why does it feel like a graveyard?

1/2

>>2915443
Looking around to make sure that the street is still empty, you try the door to one of the houses. It opens without even the slightest bit of resistance. It’s a pretty classical townhouse, tall and narrow and when you step inside you find...nothing.

It’s totally empty. No furniture, no wallpaper, no carpets, nothing but dust. Dust and…

Your shoe crunches on something.

You look down to see that you’ve stood on a wasp nest, one that had just been lying on the ground in the entrance way. You instinctively jump back and nearly crack your head on the wall as you recoil.
But there’s no harm. This nest is dry and desiccated, most of it crumbling to dust beneath your boot. And littering the dusty ground around it are the empty shells of long-dead wasps.

The next house has another one in their entrance way as well only this one, this long-dead wasp graveyard, has a bundle of wilting flowers placed in front of it. The dust has surged and covered the flowers, obscuring all colour the petals must have once had.
What the fuck?

And it is just then that you hear someone close a door just down the street.

“Hello?”
You recognise Vespa’s breathy drawl, though this time it is shot through with alarm.
“Is anyone here? Hello?”
Why is she checking the doors?


>Stay where you are and confront her. You’ve done nothing wrong.

>Hide! You feel like you've trespassed on something important.

>Escape through a window and pretend that you never saw any of...whatever this is.

>Other (Specify)

>>2915444
>>Stay where you are and confront her. You’ve done nothing wrong.

>>2915444
>Just greet her and continue investigating. She can confront you if she's got a problem with it.

>>2915444
>>2915454
This

Vote called, writing!

>Just greet her and continue investigating. She can confront you if she's got a problem with it.

Wait, why do you even have the instinct to hide or run away? It’s not like you’re doing anything wrong! You’re trespassing at worst and unless one of the constabulary is here, you can’t even get in trouble for it. This place has such a mopey feeling to it that you almost got caught up in it yourself.
But still, you’re pretty curious about what all this is supposed to be? A wasp funeral?

None of that makes any sense to you but you’re curious to hear what your client makes of it.

You poke your head out of the door to see Vespa standing alone in the middle of the street, her black nails clacking against one another. You’re a little surprised that she’d had the time to do them and her makeup so perfectly already.
“Good morning!,” you say cheerily. “I was just having a little looksee before the duel.”

“Sofia! What are you doing here?”

“I just said that.”

“Hold on! You absolutely can search everything and anywhere you want!”

“Thanks! I don’t need your permission though.”
You step back inside and as predicted, Vespa hurries in after you a moment later. She’s flushed.
“Is something wrong?”

“I don’t understand,” she mutters. “You have every right to be here.And...I’d be happy to help you! Thank you?”
Your curse is doing her head in, you can tell.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong Signorina Delicato but does all this have something to do with the secret you absolutely cannot tell your Marcellino?”
You pick up a dead dust and she flinches away from it. She’s very plainly in a state of distress and it’s only getting worse.

“I’ll tell you anything you ask,” she says, breathing heavily and quickly as if she was about to have a panic attack. Fortunately you know she won’t. “Please, ask away.”

“I just did. Is this relevant to the duel?”

“...Yes. I suppose you deserve to know that.”

“Is this related to the secret you cannot tell him?”

“Yes, that too.”


>”You don’t have to tell me. I understand the value of a good secret and I know how uncomfortable it can be. But you’re very clearly in distress and I’d like to help you. I can’t do that without knowing!”

>”In less than an hour, I am about to fight a duel for your right to keep this secret. I would like to know it.”

>”I promise I won’t tell him, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

>Leave well enough alone. Any decision she ‘makes’ to tell you anything isn’t genuine. You don’t need to know the circumstances to fight for justice.

>Other (Specify)

>>2915483
>Hold on! You absolutely can search everything and anywhere you want!
topkek


>”You don’t have to tell me. I understand the value of a good secret and I know how uncomfortable it can be. But you’re very clearly in distress and I’d like to help you. I can’t do that without knowing!”

>>2915483
>”You don’t have to tell me. I understand the value of a good secret and I know how uncomfortable it can be.
>But you’re very clearly in distress and winning this duel will solve very very few of your problems. I can't do anything more without knowing.

>>2915490
support

>>2915483
>>Leave well enough alone. Any decision she ‘makes’ to tell you anything isn’t genuine. You don’t need to know the circumstances to fight for justice.

Vote called, writing!

>”You don’t have to tell me.”

You sigh, uneasy about what you’re doing. You know that if she had the choice she probably wouldn’t tell you. But that choice isn’t hers if you don’t want it to be. And you understand the value of a good secret, you really do! The memory of Ormanno casually revealing your true nature to your entire audience is still fresh. You wouldn’t do the same to anyone, much less one of your own clients.

“You don’t have to tell me,” you say. “I know how uncomfortable it can be. But you are very clearly in distress about it and winning this duel will solve very few of your problems. Sure I’ll clear off your jilted lover or whatever he is but that doesn’t get rid of the underlying cause of it all.”
You step forward and take her hand in yours, pulling her across the threshold.
“You’re my client, I want to be able to help you. But I don’t know what I can do without knowing.”

She looks at you silently, her black spectacles hiding her eyes completely.
“Are you sure? You really want to know?”

“Well now I’m just more curious! And it’ll help if at least one person knows, right? I won’t tell anyone else if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

She can’t resist you. And shit, maybe she really does want to tell someone. It can feel like dropping a burden.
“Fine. Alright. Have you ever wanted to be someone else, Sofia?”

“Of course not! I’m perfect as I am.”
All the time. All the fucking time.

“Well I was granted that wish.”

“...Who did you used to be?”

“Close but not the best question,” she says slowly. “Not that it’s your fault or anything. It’s not a who...it’s a what. How old do you think I am?”

“My age?”

“I turned six last month.”

You think about that for a moment.
“You need to start from the beginning.”

“Sure. Once upon a time...six years ago last month, to be precise, there was the annual census. Do you remember that one?”

“Not really. They all sort of blur together in the end. Just a bunch of different pains in the arse.”
But you know what they are, everyone does. The laws and rules of the City are fine-tuned and need precise data on how best to function. And thus an annual census is of utmost importance. For just as law shapes reality, bureaucracy and paperwork define what they record. Once you get into matters of High Law, the relationship between the event and the recording of the event become a closed loop.

“That time...there was a significant error. A missed digit. And Apocalypsis was recorded as having hundreds more citizens than it really did.”

Your eyes widen despite yourself.
“Are you serious?”

1/3

>>2915560
“Always. I’ve been told it happens more often than you think. The City...self-corrects. It’s slow but in time it’d shape itself to match. Maybe it would make people more fertile or cause a massive influx or...sorry, I got sidetracked. Do you think that the City has a will?”

“No.”

“Oh. But the lawyers don’t like mistakes like this and they don’t like letting the City correct itself. It’s too slow and the machine doesn’t care for how many cogs it loses. So one of them, in an effort to stop a catastrophic error, performed an intervention. I remember her explaining it because those were my first memories.”

“Pardon?”

“She made me,” Vespa finally says. “She needed a few hundred citizens to make the world match the census and to do it quickly, she took the first thing she could find...a collection of wasp’s nests...and legally re-zoned it into housing, with citizens to match.”

“Wait,” you say, stepping back and letting go of her hand. As you do so, you take a closer look at her and her...her hair so blonde that it’s basically yellow. At the bands of black upon her fingers and her lips that she somehow has painted so flawlessly on this early in the morning. At the blank black glasses and whatever eyes lie behind them.
“Vespa...Vespa, Vespa, Vespa, that’s not a name you chose is it? I assumed it was because it sounded so silly but you’re actually a...a...a-”

“A wasp,” she says, finishing your sentence. “Or at least I was six years ago. She gave us birth certificates and rights to citizenship and with a wave of paperwork, here we were. A bunch of brand new citizens, mostly women, who’d always lived here. And just enough of us that the City would match its census.”

“A genuine legal intervention,” you whisper. “I’ve only read about those in novels!”

“They happen more often than you might think.”

“Okay, I think I understand now. But surely you can just tell him.”

“I’d like to,” she mutters. “But I can’t! Because I love him! Or at least I thought I did. And the lawyer told us that nothing can be perfect, that every wish must have its shadow. That if...we ever loved a human and that human learned of our true nature, the rights would be revoked. We would become a wasp again and the change would be irreversible.”

You look back at the derelict wasp nest on the ground again and at the flowers scattered before it. Vespa follows your gaze.

“Yes,” she whispers. “I’m the last one. It seemed like such an easy rule to stick to at the time but one by one, we all broke it one way or another. And do you know how long a wasp lives? Less than a month. To revert is to…”
She waves a hand at the empty insectoid husks littering the ground.
“It doesn’t last long.”

“And you really love Marcellino?”

She just nods, looking distraught.

2/3

>>2915562
Now you feel really bad for how rude you were to her last night.


>”Have you tried not loving him? He clearly doesn’t deserve it.”

>”You know, I think I can understand more than you’d think.” Tell her about your own lawyer godmother.

>”Well...shit. I don’t know. That’s rough.”

>”Your name is really on the nose. How did you last this long?”

>"I can see the attraction of the fascina lifestyle, considering the circumstances."

>”Ever since we first met, I’ve always suspected you were a wasp.”

>”...Do you remember what it’s like?”

>”Then don’t worry. I will protect you.”

>Other (Specify)

And as an additional vote, choose your duelling loadout! Dawn fast approaches and with it, your new opponent.

Choose six Techniques.

>Brute Strike: [STRIKE]Siphon the lowest value dice from your Composure Pool to your Strike Pool. Roll all dice in your Strike Pool to inflict damage.

>Focussed Blow: [STRIKE]Siphon all dice from your Technique Pool to your Strike Pool. Roll all dice in your Strike Pool to inflict damage.

>Counting Coup: [FLOURISH]Generate a d4 into your Technique Pool. Next time you use this in the same duel, upgrade it by 2 sides. This caps at d10 and if done again afterwards, resets back to d4.

>Gritted Teeth: [TRICK]Move the highest value dice from your Technique Pool to your Composure Pool.

>Elegance: [FLOURISH] Declare either Strike, Flourish, Trick or Stance. Generate a d4 into your Technique Pool. When your opponent makes their next move, if it is the same category of move as declared, generate a dice of equal value to the lowest value dice in your Composure Pool.

>Unassailable Rookie: [STANCE]Once this Stance is active, all dice that your opponent rolls out of their Strike Pool take a -1 penalty to their final result. Can only be active while you have a d4 in your Composure Pool.

>Underhanded Deflection: [TRICK]Lower the sides of all the dice currently in your opponent’s Technique pool by 1.

>Crushing Grip: [STRIKE]Siphon no dice. Roll all dice in your Strike Pool to inflict damage. If no Composure dice are destroyed as a result of this, whether through damage or through an ability, destroy the single highest value dice in your opponent’s Technique Pool.

>>2915564
>”You know, I think I can understand more than you’d think.” Tell her about your own lawyer godmother.

>"I can see the attraction of the fascina lifestyle, considering the circumstances."

>>2915567
>"I can see the attraction of the fascina lifestyle, considering the circumstances."
>”You know, I think I can understand more than you’d think.” Tell her about your own lawyer godmother.

>>2915567
>Counting Coup
>Gritted Teeth
>Unassailable Rookie
>Underhanded Deflection
>Crushing Grip
>Focused Blow

>>2915567
>Focussed Blow: [STRIKE]Siphon all dice from your Technique Pool to your Strike Pool. Roll all dice in your Strike Pool to inflict damage.

>Counting Coup: [FLOURISH]Generate a d4 into your Technique Pool. Next time you use this in the same duel, upgrade it by 2 sides. This caps at d10 and if done again afterwards, resets back to d4.

>Gritted Teeth: [TRICK]Move the highest value dice from your Technique Pool to your Composure Pool.

>Elegance: [FLOURISH] Declare either Strike, Flourish, Trick or Stance. Generate a d4 into your Technique Pool. When your opponent makes their next move, if it is the same category of move as declared, generate a dice of equal value to the lowest value dice in your Composure Pool.

>Underhanded Deflection: [TRICK]Lower the sides of all the dice currently in your opponent’s Technique pool by 1.

>Crushing Grip: [STRIKE]Siphon no dice. Roll all dice in your Strike Pool to inflict damage. If no Composure dice are destroyed as a result of this, whether through damage or through an ability, destroy the single highest value dice in your opponent’s Technique Pool.

>>2915564
>”You know, I think I can understand more than you’d think.” Tell her about your own lawyer godmother.
>”Well...shit. I don’t know. That’s rough.”
>”Your name is really on the nose. How did you last this long?”
>"I can see the attraction of the fascina lifestyle, considering the circumstances."
>”...Do you remember what it’s like?”

>Tell him the secret is about a curse and if you tell the one you love about it you die? Or was that too much info?

>>2915567
>Focussed Blow: [STRIKE]Siphon all dice from your Technique Pool to your Strike Pool. Roll all dice in your Strike Pool to inflict damage.
>Counting Coup: [FLOURISH]Generate a d4 into your Technique Pool. Next time you use this in the same duel, upgrade it by 2 sides. This caps at d10 and if done again afterwards, resets back to d4.
>Gritted Teeth: [TRICK]Move the highest value dice from your Technique Pool to your Composure Pool.
>Elegance: [FLOURISH] Declare either Strike, Flourish, Trick or Stance. Generate a d4 into your Technique Pool. When your opponent makes their next move, if it is the same category of move as declared, generate a dice of equal value to the lowest value dice in your Composure Pool.
>Crushing Grip: [STRIKE]Siphon no dice. Roll all dice in your Strike Pool to inflict damage. If no Composure dice are destroyed as a result of this, whether through damage or through an ability, destroy the single highest value dice in your opponent’s Technique Pool.

File: sleep.jpg (114 KB, 577x515)

114 KB JPG

I have to sleep now so I'll keep this vote open until tomorrow morning, at which point the session will resume.
I hope you all had fun! Hopefully I shall feel better by tomorrow.

>>2915564
>>”You know, I think I can understand more than you’d think.” Tell her about your own lawyer godmother.
>"I can see the attraction of the fascina lifestyle, considering the circumstances."

>Yeah, umm, you really should have told me this before we decided the terms. Now I'll have to lean a little bit on him just to have a chance at reconciling this whole business.

>Elegance
>Gritted Teeth
>Unassailable Rookie
>Underhanded Deflection
>Crushing Grip
>Focused Blow

>>2915564
>”You know, I think I can understand more than you’d think.” Tell her about your own lawyer godmother.
>”Then don’t worry. I will protect you.”

>>2915567
>Unassailable Rookie
>Focussed Blow
>Counting Coup
>Crushing Grip
>Underhanded Deflection
>Gritted Teeth

My reasoning for the techniques is as follows:
To defeat Third Eye Staring, we need three different technique types, not counting Stances. Otherwise we'll either feed him Technique dice, or become predictable.
Crushing Grip should be excellent for this fight, because it doesn't syphon dice AND it destroys the opponent's Technique dice, which should counter Circle Defence perfectly.
Underhanded Deflection is there mostly so that we have a Trick that doesn't drain our Technique.
Gritted Teeth and Unassailable Rookie are there to help against the "sadistic attack".

Vote called, writing!

>Commiserate
>Lose the Brute Strike
>"I can see the attraction of the fascina lifestyle, considering the circumstances."
>”You know, I think I can understand more than you’d think.” Tell her about your own lawyer godmother.

Well shit, what are you supposed to say to a story like that? What are you allowed to say? More importantly, is there anything you can tell her that would be worth a damn?
“So that’s why you were so anxious about this duel?”

“How could I not be? I still can’t believe that he’d do something like this to me just because of a secret.”
She adjusts her spectacles with shaking hands.
“I didn’t think he was like that.”


“Yeah well, just because you’re his partner doesn’t mean you owe him this. He doesn’t own every aspect of your life. Some men do think like that, though.”
Say what you like of your curse, it has kept you from the clutches of unpleasant suitors. Come to think of it, that’s been somewhat of a theme so far hasn’t it? You hope that all your duels aren’t going to be like this.
“I can see the attraction of the fascina lifestyle, considering the circumstances.”

She nods.
“It’s all lies anyway. Why should the world be any different?”

“Not a viewpoint I personally share but sure. But I think other than that, I understand your situation more than you might think.”

You wonder what her true opinion of you saying something like that is. Would she tell you that you’re wrong? Tell you off? Agree? You’ll never know.
“I’m sure you do,” she says instead.

“No, I mean it. You aren’t the only person whose life has been fucked by lawyers. Did you know that I have a judicial godmother?”
You give her a brief edition of your own life, including the circumstances around your naming ceremony and the birthright you were saddled with. You’re aware that it’s not the most sympathetic story under the circumstances. She’s just finished telling you about how she could very well die if she ever confessed the truth to the one she loves. So in turn...you tell her about you were given a curse good enough that most people mistake it for the reverse? You can admit within that your situations aren’t really equivalent, even if you can’t say it aloud.
But it still ruined your life! You didn’t so much as have a choice about it. And it was all because a lawyer interfered when she didn’t have to.

“I see,” Vespa says slowly. “That explains a lot about last night.”

You want to say sorry about treating her that way. You don’t.
“To be fair, if you’d all treated me a little nicer I wouldn’t have had to have done all that.”

“Sorry. But...it’s not like I detest the lawyer for what she did to me. I love being human! I just wish it could have been a little less cruel. She gave us a contract that in the end, none of us could keep.”
She looks back down to the wasp graveyard.

1/2

>>2916515
Not knowing what else to do, you pat her on the shoulder. She grabs hold of your arm and...clings to it. It’s a little awkward but you don’t pull back.

“I just wish it could have turned out any other way,” she sobs.


>”Do you want to help me get ready for the duel?”

>”Don’t worry. I can’t lose.”

>Ask her about her former neighbours. Let her speak for as long as she needs to.

>”You can’t choose who you love.”

>”Alright, pull yourself together! You need to decide what you’re going to do with your life when I win!”

>Just leave her be.

.>Other (Specify)

>>2916517
>Ask her about her former neighbours. Let her speak for as long as she needs to.

>>2916517

>”Alright, pull yourself together! You need to decide what you’re going to do with your life when I win!”

>>2916517
> ”You can’t choose who you love.”
Maybe Sofia could show a little humanity? Just a little?

>>2916517
>>Ask her about her former neighbours. Let her speak for as long as she needs to.

>”You can’t choose who you love.”

>>2916517
>”You can’t choose who you love.”
>you think he's just jealous and suspects you have another lover?

Vote called, writing.

Since they seemed to be more or less the same thing, I synthesized the two most popular options.

>Ask her about her former neighbours. Let her speak for as long as she needs to.
>”You can’t choose who you love.”

“You can’t choose who you love,” you tell her, thinking back to your all your own disastrous attempts at romance. Have you ever been in love? You’re not sure since a lot of the books you’ve read on the subject have held it up as a sort of mutual need. But mutuality is impossible for you, isn’t it? But you’ve felt the longing and you know you can’t choose that. And why are you still thinking about yourself? This is her problem!
“But if it helps you any, I’m pretty sure he’s not worthy it.”
Pretty sure that doesn’t help her at all.

She just nods and says nothing, holding onto your arm as if she depended on it. You get the feeling that she’s got a lot of shit she’s never been able to say. And how could she? Who could she have told it to? There’s nobody left but her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d like to know about the people who used to live here. Could you tell me about them?”

*****

Nearly an hour later and you’re standing out in the middle of the abandoned street. You can’t call it creepy anymore. You let Vespa talk your ear off and after a few minutes, sob your ear off and it had all lead to...nothing. These people might have been wasps but there was nothing special about them otherwise.
Vespa told you nothing but perfectly ordinary and domestic anecdotes, the kind of stories anyone could tell about anyone. But to someone of her origins, they must have been as exotic as the furthest edge of the world.

These were just people. And now they’re gone. It’s impossible to be scared of these abandoned houses now that you know that. And perhaps one day Vespa will be gone too and there’ll be nothing left of this lane at all. Just a few discarded and broken wasp nests where a street used to be.
But it won’t be today!

The sky is rimmed with orange. The sun is finally rising high enough to be seen above the edge of the City. And just on time, two men are standing before you.

“Where’s Vespa?,” asks Marcellino. He looks tired and irritated and you get the feeling he doesn’t normally wake before dawn. But he better hold onto that feeling as best he can because by the time you’re done, he’s going to be feeling even worse.

“She is choosing to watch from the window,” you tell them. More to the point, she’d been crying her compound eyes out after telling you what she had. You told her to stay at home and wait. She’s in no state to confront this idiot.

“It doesn’t matter,” Signore Albero says, pushing his client back a little as he advances. “Just relax. This isn’t your business anymore.”

1/2

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>>2916715
“That’s right,” you say. “It’s ours.”
Two strangers fighting to determine the lives of people they barely know. But does it have to be this way?
>Begin the duel. Fools can only learn at swordpoint.

>Tell Marcellino that Vespa telling him would have dire consequences. She would never betray him. This doesn’t have to happen.

>>2916719

>Tell Marcellino that Vespa telling him would have dire consequences. She would never betray him. This doesn’t have to happen.

>>2916719
>Tell Marcellino that Vespa telling him would have dire consequences. She would never betray him. This doesn’t have to happen.

>>2916719
>>Tell Marcellino that Vespa telling him would have dire consequences. She would never betray him. This doesn’t have to happen.

>>2916719
>Tell Marcellino that Vespa telling him would have dire consequences. She would never betray him. This doesn’t have to happen.

>>2916719
>Tell Marcellino that Vespa telling him would have dire consequences. She would never betray him. This doesn’t have to happen.

Vote called, writing.

>Tell Marcellino that Vespa telling him would have dire consequences. She would never betray him. This doesn’t have to happen.

“That said,” you continue. “It won’t be proper dawn for a few more minutes. Do you mind if I speak to your client?”

The old man’s brow furrows.
“What about?”

“There is a concession that my client might be willing to make that can avert the need for all this,” you say, lying through your teeth. “But I must speak to him on her behalf and I must do it in private.”

“Pah. You are trustworthy, I can’t imagine you would take advantage of it. Have it your way then.”

“Thank you!” Signore Acciaio, please step this way.”
You motion him over to one of the houses and he does so while his duellist remains standing at the mouth of the street, both of them no doubt wondering just why they’re bothering to agree with you.

“What is it?”

You hesitate for a moment. Vespa didn’t ask for this. In fact, if she had a choice, she’d likely tell you explicitly not to. It’s this kind of discussion that has her so scared after all! But it’ not all her choice. It’s yours.
And maybe you can make Marcellino see reason.
“My client has, in confidence, told me of the secret she’s been keeping from you.”

“So she does have one! I knew it! Well then, what is it? Who has she been working with?”

“It’s got absolutely nothing to do with you, Signore. But if she tells you, there’ll be dire consequences for her.”

“How do you know that for sure?”

“Because she loves you.”

“So what? I thought she did too but she clearly doesn’t. What kind of “consequences”?”

“I’m afraid it’s all gone a bit legal.”
You’re really treading the edge here. How much can you tell him before Vespa loses her humanity forever?
“I dare say it’s a matter of life and death.”

“Whatever it is, it can’t be all bad. If she’s hiding it then sh-”

“No, shut up! Listen to me! You can still call this off!”

“Y-you can’t ask me to do that! Can you?”

“I can. Do it.”

“I-I-I...maybe later. I’ll be nicer about it after…”
His words trail off into a mumbling mess. Meanwhile, you’re having a few uncomfortable thoughts. Are you doing exactly what Ormanno accused you of? Are you using your curse to pervert the system you swore to uphold? And is there any way for you to talk to anyone without doing it?
“I’d still have to pay my duellist.”

“You’re pathetic.”

“Yes. I know I am.”
He’s flushing, no doubt extremely confused. If you want to, it wouldn’t be hard to push him over the edge. You could crush him right now and end this duel before it begins.

1/2

>>2916858
>Lean on him. He can’t say no, you can force him to back down. You can lose a duel but you can't lose this.

>Even if you make him back down here, he’ll still be a part of Vespa’s life. People don’t change. Just tell him off and let him watch his duellist lose.

>”Listen you fucking idiot! She’s a wasp! A WASP!” Lose your temper.

>Slap him across the face.

>Maybe you can make Vespa give up her love for him. What if she saw him cheating on her with her own public defender? You suppose he has a bland appeal…

>Other (Specify)

>>2916858
>>Even if you make him back down here, he’ll still be a part of Vespa’s life. People don’t change. Just tell him off and let him watch his duellist lose.

"I want you to think really hard about my words here while your duelist loses."

>>2916861
>Even if you make him back down here, he’ll still be a part of Vespa’s life. People don’t change. Just tell him off and let him watch his duellist lose.
>If you're doing all this just because you're fucking jealous, understand that you are toying with her(technically love, but also literally) life

>>2916861

>>2916884
Seconding

>>2916861
>She's Cursed, she tells you the secret she dies, full stop do not pass the fountain. She's not cheating, not unfaithful, hell the only reason she cannot tell you is because the curse says specifically she cannot tell the man she loves or else.