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>>2961227
Welcome back.
Don't mind me, I'm just posting the second best prince

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Location: Port Reemdus, City shipping

Date: July 22, 1992


“IS THAT THE BEST YOU’VE GOT YOU PATHETIC WHELPS!!” A voice loud enough to drown out the nearby ocean crashes and leaving ships makes the torture you’re enduring that much worse.

Your name is Derrick Holums and you are now 16 years old.


It’s been 4 long, crazy years. After you decided to fully commit yourself to the war on the mafia community, things got interesting and fast.


The first big change can be noticed by just looking around. All around you, you see fully able-bodied men and women, on their hands and toes, completing their 4th set of intensive training in this large, secluded section of the shipping yard turned training ground.

Fernand managed to rent out the space for the group when activity on the yard was low.

The area is huge and must've cost a pretty penny considering how much of a money grubber the yard manager is, but since the base wasn’t large enough to accommodate the new forces, this was the only choice.

But with Fernand’s seemingly infinite bank account, you doubt you have to worry about being kicked out.

However, paying for this massive area is certainly worth the cash, considering the new recruits must number in the 1000s.

People doing sit-ups, improvised weight training using assortments of large metal and bars on one side. Others doing combat training by sparring in groups. Learning how to handle enemies with knives, bats, machetes and any other weapon common among the mafia members.


Leading them all are the various instructors we picked up during the last 4 years. Former ring fighters, martial artists and soldiers fresh from the Begreosse conflict.

The most amazing part of it all is that every one of these guys are local to Yorknew, hell, some of these guys are neighbors in your apartment, badasses like this right next door and you never even knew it.


Through well-connected information network, Carpe-diem was capable of spreading knowledge of it’s existence to every corner of Yorknew without arousing any interest from the Mafia community. Just like Fernand said, people all over were tired of being subject to the whims of the Mafia, they just never found the courage to speak up or do something about it.


But as soon as they heard that there were people gathering up, an army ready to take back Yorknew from the murderers and thieves that were infecting it, there was a flood of volunteers, all ready and willing to put their lives on the line to take back their homes.


Speaking of Fernand, once again, as soon as things were getting interesting, he disappeared without notice and has been impossible for anyone to locate or contact.

For someone who seemed so proud to be the leader of this growing army, he had no issue screwing off without even greeting the newbies. To anyone whose joined recently, Fernand is just a cool urban legend the older guys use to hide where they get all their money from.

That brat is truly an enigma to you, but if these last 4 years have shown you anything, it’s that even if he isn’t physically here, he’s still watching you.

And even you can’t see it, he’s making moves in the background to ensure victory. You, just like everyone else, simply have no idea how the hell he’s doing it. But as long as it's helping you, then who cares.


The real issue nowadays isn’t Fernand’s absence, or a lack of competent fighters or, hell, not even weapons are an issue anymore.

Thanks in no small part to your hard work, the group has become fully equipped with well over some 1000 guns using the parts Fernand dumped on you before he left.

However, despite all your contributions and effort, you were booted from your position of group gunsmith, as with all the new recruits pouring in, there’s a surplus of people at around that could easily replace you and replace you, they did.

Not a moment after a good replacement sprung up, did you get kicked out your position, long hours spent mixing gunpowder and hammering away at brass to make casings and bullets, all forgotten once a set of new, less-cantankerous recruits came in and stole your job.


You were really good at it too, you have complete knowledge of every pistol, rifle, shotgun, that you’ve ever touched. Of course, only urban level stuff, so you’ve never touched any real hardcore hardware, but even Fernand can’t import military grade weaponry without catching a few eyes.


Now look, you wouldn’t be mad about all these eager recruits taking up new support positions like: Medical officers, scouts, logistics experts and of course, ballistic engineers and whatever else needs to get done.

The reason you’re pissed is because all of these guys aren’t doing those jobs to help to the group, but rather to avoid the suffering you’re going through now.


Front lines training.

Right now, you’re face-down, staring at the hard, damp concrete of the port. Sweat and hot breath draining from your face, making the ground mud-covered floor below you wetter and harder to do your 3rd set of 100 push-ups in 30 minutes on.

With those recruits taking your nice, comfy job in the steelworks, you’ve been given the boot right to boot camp.

29 other men and women, including Austin (Who you’re personally glad has to suffer alongside you) have been inches away from smashing your heads into the pavement below for the last 10 minutes.

4 years ago, when you were 12, you seemed to have this delusion of grandeur that since you could lift heavy things and dodge gun-fire, that you were strong.

As you look down now, stuck on your 22nd rep, incapable of bring your arms down because you just know that if you lower yourself now, you’ll be cleaning concrete out of your mouth for the rest of the day.

You know now, that it was all a dream.

Everyone else is just like you. Hurting from the long hours of training day in and day out, in preparation for future operations as Fernand put it before he wandered off to where ever he does again. But the future hasn’t come for 4 years now and it doesn’t seem to be coming any sooner.

This is what people call back-breaking labor: If it isn’t 200 squats, then it’s 250 sit-ups.

if it isn’t sit-ups then it’s 100 leg-lifts.

if it isn’t leg-lifts then it’s 300 Jumping Jacks and if it ain’t jumping jacks, it’s 100 push-ups.

10 sets a day, 10-minutes breaks only. The only solace you have is that the trainers have the ‘kindness’ to literally hose you down mid-training so you don’t die of dehydration or breakdown from muscle burn. Does nothing to stop the muscle fatigue though.

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No amount of heavy duty courier work could prepare you for the hell you’re going through right now. And to top it all off, you got him as your trainer.

The heavy, intimidating sounds of hard boots stomp their way over to your ears as the powerful splashing sounds of an extra-long, industrial power hose drags alongside it.

The sounds stop right beside you as an angry voice talks down to you, “Well if it isn’t Private Holums, again! I see you can’t finish your final set. Is there a problem here!?” He shouts.

“Rickard…” You say his name with all the spite and angry you can muster while stuck half-way to fainting.

“What did you just call me Private?” He asks angrily.

“Your name…” you answer.

“You must think you’re cute Private Holums. I know that’s my name. But aren’t you forgetting your Manners? That’s Colonel Rickard to you.” He states.

You seriously can’t believe how much of an ass this guy is, just because he’s a former veteran, whenever he’s training people, he loves to LARP as some high-end military commander. Calls everyone private and of course, he’s the Colonel.

“Now it’s your turn Private.” He states.


“My turn for what…?” you ask.

He leans down and brings himself close, so he can mouth off in your ear, “I’m showing you respect by calling you by your rank and name! I could just call you General Sunnyhead if you want! So, how about you show me some proper manners and give some respect to your commanding officer!” He demands.

>What will you do?

>Comply

>Defy

>>2961285
>>Defy

>>2961285
>Defy

>>2961287
>>2961320

>Rebellion

>Writing.

“Man…if you open your mouth a little wider…I could stuff a log the size of your ego in there…” You say with a sneer.


“What was that? I’m gonna need you to repeat that.” He asks in a belligerent voice.


“What…Didn’t hear me Sergent Smashmouth?... I’m tying to tell you... that if you want respect...You could start by giving your teeth a nice brushing.” You double down, you aren’t backing down on this.

You know you’re gonna regret this, but honestly you don’t care. Admiral Dragon breath here has been on your case since day 1 and you won’t take that trash talk lying down.

Shit like this is why you laced his beers with laxatives, not that he’d ever know that.

“Is that all you’ve got to say Private Holums?” He asks as he stands back up.

“Unless you want directions…to the nearest detergent store…yeah, pretty much.” You answer.

He hangs the industrial hose over your head and blasts you with high pressure stream of water. The intensity of the water threatens to push you right to the ground, the strain on your arm doubles under the weight.

He puts a pinky in his earhole and speaks, “Damn, it really sucks being 42. My ears are already starting to fail me. I could have sworn you just insulted a commanding officer, but that can’t be true. There’s no way you’re that much of a rude dumbass, right? General Sunnyhead?.” He asks.

The water pouring out is so thick and powerful that you can’t even open your lips wide enough to retort, after a good few seconds of really washing you down, he moves the hose and speaks.

“Now that should’ve simmered you down. Now how about telling me why you’re giving half-way through your regiment?” He asks.

You shake your head to get the water out of your hair and ears as speak “My arms…are killing me…” You state.

He shakes his head, “It’s becoming a daily thing for me to see you giving up before the final stretch. It’s bad form private.” He states.

“Having no endurance shows you’ve got no spine, no end-game Private. You think the world gives two shits if your arms hurt? If they hurt, you push through and endure the pain.” He declares.

“How…the hell…is anyone supposed…endure this…bullshit?” you ask.

“The fact that you’re even asking me that, shows you’ve got no lasting power Private. The ladies must hate you. Ain’t that right Corporal Zeena!?” He taunts.

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“You ain’t wrong Colonel, but aren’t you being too hard on the boy? Warriors aren’t made in a day you know.” A cool yet entertained voice answers.

“But spineless weaklings are! Look there Private! See how your betters conduct themselves!” He points over to the other side of the training area.

You turn your head to face to where he points and see a statuesque, beast of a woman.

Muscle leaner than a choice cow and as strong as a bull. Without a single sign of trouble, the woman a few rows across from you turns her head to speak to you while still doing her push-ups.

The only sign that she’s even doing exercise is the fact she’s working up a mighty sweat, not nearly as much as you and the others of course.

“Don’t call me his better Colonel! That’s just not true, we’re both just trying our best and you’re breaking his spirit when you say things like that!” She counters.

Her name is Zeena Biterad, 25 years old and as you can tell from the name, first daughter of Rickard.

Unlike Rickard though, she much more likeable and generally seen as everyone’s older sister around here. She’s your superior by Rickard’s standards, and though you and her try and fight him on this, it’s an undeniable fact that she is way stronger than any of you here today.

Case and point, her workout ended a long time ago, roughly an hour ago in fact, she’s onto to her 15th set of 100 push-ups and unlike the rest of you, she doesn’t even need a break, the 100 acts less like a goal and more like a limiter to her, and even while she’s having a full, back and forth conversation with her father, she doesn’t even slow down on her push-ups, as if it’s no different than breathing to her..

Being the daughter of a solider, it’s no wonder she’s so well trained and you feel no ill-will towards her, she’s a great person and an excellent addition to the team. but hot damn, having someone actual defend themselves from being called the strongest just to ensure your feelings aren’t hurt can’t even be called emasculating, it’s downright soul-crushing humiliation.

“Don’t give me that Corporal! That kind of sweet talk is why these Whelps never grow! We’re going to be fighting a war! There’s no room for excuses or pleasantries.” He counters deftly.

“The war is in the streets, not in the camps Colonel! if you break all our recruits here, who will be left to fight with us!” She counters.

“Talking about us like we’re not here is already breaking my spirit though…” A polite and weak voice says in a sad tone.

“Who gave you speaking rights Private Dandy! You’re even worse than Private Holums! Are you even taking this seriously!?” Rickard asks.

“It’s Danri! And I’m sorry! It just hurts so much, I want to try harder, but I just can’t…” That boy caught between crying from the pain and crying from embarrassment is Danri Smarts, and just like his name says, he’s one smart kid.

Unlike many of the guys here, Danri’s the only one with a proper education, fresh outta college with master’s degree in computer science and advanced Mathematics, calling him a genius would be an understatement. He single-handedly brought Carpe-diem into the modern age.

Installing high speed computers, phones and identification programs we’ve used to scout and secure new members using the internet.

Not to mention, he’s been a key agent on digging up info on the mafia community, learning common meeting points. People of interest, bosses and trade points. He’s a Hacker, programmer and network security administrator all balled up into one genius computer scientist.

He’s trained anyone else interested in info gathering and hacking, making an entire unit of hackers under his guidance. If the soldiers make up the body, Support make up the spine than Danri and his crew make up the brain of this army.

So then, you might be wondering why that brain is out here, in the hot sun, suffering this hellish training instead of being back at base and doing what he does best.

Well, the thing is the hopeless fool is madly in love with Zeena. Yes, the same Zeena who is constantly under the watchful, over-protective eyes of her Demon of a Dad.

The kid’s just 20 years and his hands clearly weren’t made to fight or kill people, but here he is, trying to prove how much a man he can be to a woman 5 years older than him and 10 years stronger.

Ah, Hopeless love is to a man as winning the lottery is to a gambling addict. You know there’s almost no chance you’re going to win, but damn if you aren’t going to try.

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“What!? You can tap away at toasters all day, but you can’t even do one push-up! You’ve got the attitude of a loser boy! You better fix that before I fix it for you!” Rickard threatens.

“I won’t fail you Sir! Hrrrr….”Danri says through a strained voice. Just like Rickard says, he’s way worse off then you, he hasn’t even completed his first set, he managed to fight his way to 30 before his arms gave up entirely on him.

He’s been trying to do his best to push himself from the ground, but falls flat on his face every time.


“Ahhhh! OW!!” And there he goes again.

Rickard shakes his head in disgust, “Why are you even out here Private Dandy!? Did you come here to bitch and complain and waste all our time!?” He questions


“No Sir! Sorry Sir!” He apologizes as he tries, and fails, again.


“It’s amazing how pathetic you are! And stop saying sorry! Only Spineless worms scream sorry all the time!” He shouts.

“Yes Sir! Sorry- I mean, won’t happen again Sir!” He states.

You can’t help but feel sorry for the kid, he’s the kind of guy that could be living the top of his life in a nice, air-conditioned office, making billions of Jenny using even one of the crazy programs he’s authored and yet he’s here, eating dirt for a woman he isn’t even sure loves him back.

Zeena finally ends her intense workout session to run over and put a finger to her father’s face, “Okay, that enough Dad! The poor boy’s doing his best and you can’t even give him a word of encouragement!? You’re taking this too far!” She shouts.

“W-What? I’m just trying to do what’s best for them! He’s the one that agreed to come out here and learn to be strong! You shouldn’t pity the boy like that! Plus it’s not Dad here Dear, it’s Colonel!” He corrects.

Zeena kneels down to the half-dead Danri and pulls him up to her chest and snuggles him close, “That may be true but you’re going about it the wrong way! You think he’ll grow with that kind of abuse!? You need to come up with a nicer way Dad! You encouraged me when we train! Why can’t you teach them like you taught me!?” She counters.

“What-Well, that’s cuz-Uh. Well-“ He struggles to find a reasonable explanation.

“Zeena’s right Colonel! This is abuse!” Barney Toon, real name Richard Nambiam, shouts in agreement.

Barney there was previously a kid-show cartoonist turned political reporter who caught wind of the back-door deals corrupt politicians had with the Mafia. His studio was burned down a few months ago and he was taken under witness protection where he goes by the ironic name, Barney Toon now.

He now does advertisements for the group, but since the number of recruits is starting to get overwhelming, he was reassigned to the frontlines.

“Shut your mouth Captain Dinosaur! Go back to the kid’s network where you belong!” Rickard counters.

“This can’t be fair! We deserve better treatment! I want my rights Colonel!” A Large Lady named Obbly Snipes shouts.

Obbly was previously the head-chef of Yorknew’s biggest cooking show Heavens Kitchen[/I] and considerable thinner.

Her foods were heralded to be some of the greatest meals ever made and everyone she served couldn’t agree more. However, one day she screwed up on one of the most complex meals ever conceived, 10,000 Golden Shrimp Soup.

As the name insinuates, the meal has over 10,000 species of shrimp from the Golden family and needs an equal number of spices to complete.

Seems she messed up on one such spices, because the customer she was serving was disgusted with the legendary meal. That disgusted customer also happened to be the don of the local mafia in her area, and the don was not happy being severed mediocre meals.

He ordered the immediate enclosure of her main business and the destruction of all of her subsidiaries. before the week was out, she lost all her sources of income and was smeared as a failure of a chef, never allowing her to make a comeback ever again.

The stress of the event made her eat food rapidly to cope and she quickly went out of shape.

She now works as the chef for Carpe-diem, she didn’t have her job taken like the rest of us, instead, the group just recommended her since she needed to lose some weight, so she was sent to get fit here.

“You need this workout the most Specialist Wobbly! You can call for rights when your stomach stops hogging two spaces!” He counters.

“I say we start a Union guys! We won’t workout till we get better treatment!” Kenny Cruz, a former social activist who was the face of the Anti-corruption movement in Yorknew, he tried to make public office to destroy all the dirty politicians letting the Mafia rule the city.

He almost made it too, but then the Maifia caught wind of his work, raided his house and threatened his family.

Now he’s joined Carpe-diem as frontline-fighter and our special negotiator.

“The last thing this place needs is a Union run by you, Senator Slimy! You best get back to working before I put your ass to tribunal!” He threatens.

“Words don’t scare me! I won’t be stopped from bringing social justice! Join me Brothers and Sisters!” He calls out.

One after the other, all the new recruits’ frustration, fatigue and anger is pointed right at Rickard and soon enough the entire training group is protesting, demanding fair treatment.

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>>2961467
Grrrrrrr... no, not saying anything, just par for the course by this point.

>Still writing.

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Brought to the edge with pressure, Rickard shouts with a new-kind of fury,

“DAMN IT!! ZEENA’S MY LITTLE MUNCH-KIN, I”D NEVER TREAT YOU PATHETIC WHELPS LIKE I TREAT HER! JUST TRY AND START A UNION!! I’LL BUST ALL YOUR ASSES WITH MY BARE HANDS!!” Rickard says, his eyes almost seem to glow red with anger under his cap.

The glowering rage of Rickard promptly shuts everyone one up, everyone expect Zeena, who seems used to seeing Rickard this angry.

“You can’t play favorites Dad! Just check on poor Danri! The poor child’s burning red! He clearly needs some love.” She says as she pats his head, not unlike the way a mother does to a sad child.

But the last thing Danri feels, snuggled close to his crush, taking in the scent of her sweat and feeling of her hands around him, is motherly love,

“I’m in heaven…I’m so glad to be alive…”Danri whispers to himself in a daze of happiness.

“Big sis Zeena’s got a point Colonel. Pulling that kind of nepotism ain’t fair to the rest of us.” Austin now 17, but 20 years wiser and still your best friend (Who you sometimes question why you’re friends in the first place) cuts-in.

“Shut your mouth Private Yardley! Last I checked, your attitude was in need of fixing, just like Private Holums!” He shouts.

“You need to give Derrick and me a damn break already. We’ve been putting up with your bullshit for 4 years and you don’t see me calling for your attitude to get fixed.” Austin counters. Just like you, he’s tired of Rickard’s crap and isn’t afraid to show it.

You can see a bulging vein on Rickard’s forehead as he continues, “That so Private Yardly? Well guess what! Both you and Private Holums are seeing me after hours. Be at my house 14:00 hours on the dot tomorrow morning.” He states.

“Give me a fucking break…” Yardley complains.

“You better not skip out on me Private! Or the next session we do, you and Private Derrick will be doing 1000 push-ups for 10 sets. Got that!?” He shouts.

“Shit really? Fuck this then.” Yardley gives up on his workout and falls to his back to get some rest.

“No one said you were supposed to stop training Yardley!!” Rickard shouts.

“You’re gonna work me and Derrick like dogs when we get to your house anyway. Might as well enjoy my peace while I’ve got it.” Austin says as he closes his eyes there and then and falls right to sleep.

“Damn, that little shit lazier than a sloth and just as dumb looking. You better not follow him Private Holums, you’re bad enough as is.” He states, looking back to you.

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“Don’t know…might join him soon…getting tired of looking at the ground like this…at least the sun’s pretty...” You threaten.

“You drop on your back and I break it! Don’t give up on me Private Holums!” He shouts as he moves over to hose you down again.

“DADDDYYYYYYYYYYY” but that’s when a bright and vibrant voice calls out from the distance.

“Hm?” Rickard looks out to meet the voice and his hard expression breaks and is replaced by a voice of absolute delight.

(Whoa, that’s the first time he’s ever made a face that doesn’t look like he’s dying of constipation. I wonder whose voice that is. Sounds like a little gir-)

“DADDYYYYYYY!! I MISSED YOU!!” Before you can even finish thinking, a pair of feet suddenly crash into your back and leaps off it, sending you careening into the ground.

“Daddy missed you too baby girl! Have you brought what Daddy asked for!?” Rickard asks in the sweetest tone a man his size can muster.

“Darn-tooting Daddy! I even whittled it to perfection, all by myself!” She exclaims proudly.

“You need to watch your language missy! But otherwise, perfect! You know exactly what to do to make Daddy super-proud!” He congratulates.

You bring your face up from the dirty, wet concrete and look up to see what the hell they’re going on about, “What the hell? A wizard?” You question upon seeing who barged in.

It’s a little girl, can’t be more than 9 or 10 years old, she’s got a big fat grin painted on her face, typical of girls her age.

But what isn’t typical about her are the mystic clothes she wears, a combination of robes and bandanas, drawn up with strange, magical looking lines. She sits on Rickard’s massive shoulders and looks down on you from the high perch.

As soon as she’s nice and comfortable on his shoulder, Rickard switches back to his usual hard demeanor and glares down at you, “Watch your tongue Private! That’s my precious little girl you’re referring too! She doesn’t need to know your disgusting words you damn cretin! See if I don’t beat your ass if I hear you spewing off like that again.” His hard expression returns just like that.

(He’s scolding me about curse words? All I said was what the hell, while he’s blasted out a sailor’s vocabulary worth of curses towards me and everyone else.) You note.

(Hell, he even cursed while he was scolding me, what the fuck!?) You complain.

He gives the little girl a pat on the head and speaks, “Okay Dennie, this gentleman down here wants to know who you are. Why not introduce yourself?” He asks.

“Sure thing Daddy!” She jumps down from his shoulder and strikes a strangely familiar pose.

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“I’m Dennie Biterad, Witch of smiles, Protector of happiness and Yorknew’s first Magical girl!” She declares.

“Huh…?” You and everyone else but Zeena blurts out. Zeena’s just shaking her head in shame as Rickard shakes with excitement.

“By night, I save the sad souls of Yorknew from the darkness and demons of the city…By morning, I’m eating sweet pancakes made by my best friend, Daddy!” She explains.

“Ohhhh, you’re my best friend too Magical Dennie!” Rickard says while dancing on his tip-toes like an excited fan.

You don’t even know what to say anymore.

Though, something to note, you get this strange feeling that you’ve heard this exact speech somewhere before…

Zeena quickly cuts-in and whispers into her Father’s ears, “Oh my…you’re still letting her go on with this act Dad? She’s been into that cartoon since she was 5, it’s time for her to get over it already…”

Cartoon? Wait a minute…

“What are you talking about Zeena! This is too precious! She’s loved Pretty Pure since forever, I can’t ruin that for her!” He counters.


(Pretty Pure…That’s it! That’s where this act is from! It’s a japponese cartoon for kids, a classic example of the magical girl genre and a pretty good show, I watched the whole thing…Only for the animation though, I'd never watch a kids show for the story.) You recollect.

“Instead of that, how about you call one of the pathetic whelps over so they can fetch my camera! I need to snap a picture of my girl being so cute! Hurry! Hurry!” He insists she moves, but he keeps pulling her in for a hug, not letting her escape while watches his daughter’s act.

“Jeez Dad, you’re so embarrassing…” Zeena goes red in the face as every recruit in the field watches this spectacle, long forgetting the hard training session that was just happening.

(It’s no wonder she knows the speech and poses so well. Hell, even the way she dresses reminds you of the show’s MC Mado Kari, the little lost witch who wished upon a star to be able to save the world for the people she loves. Though she’s missing one crucial part of the outfit, her magic stick) You notice.

“Ahhhh, I just love you both! But we can’t keep playing around like this.” Rickard finally stops fangirling and once he does, a deadly sneer takes his face as he looks down to Dennie.

“Time for daddy to get back to work. Dearest, can you hand Daddy his Magical wand?” He asks.

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“Of course, Daddy, be sure to punish all the evildoers with the wrath of love!” A famous Mado kari line, she says it before her every final attack.

She reaches into her robes and pulls out a long, well-made, wooden stick.

(Wait a moment, magical wand? Well there’s the part she’s missing, but there’s no way they can do magic right? So that must mean it’s just a long wooden stick. There’s only one use for something like that…) You grimace.

“Thank you dearest. You can run along home now.” He states as he takes up the menacing-looking stick and gives a few practice swings.

“But I don’t want to leave you Daddy! I want to watch you punish the Evil-doers!” She shouts.

He walks up and casts a dark shadow over you, “Ahhh, how can I say no to you. Sure thing, Dearest! Watch as Daddy shows you what a bad attitude gets you.” He says with a smile more devious than Fatherly.

“This can’t be real…” You whisper to yourself, too tired to fight back or make a run for it.

He slams the stick into his hands and looks down on you with a sneer, “I warned you Private, you fall on your back and I break it.” He states.

“That wasn’t even my fault this time…” you complain.

“Don’t worry Private Holums, what doesn’t kill you makes you that much stronger. So, I’m gonna make sure to only half-kill ya, so I can build up what’s left two times better!!” He raises his stick high.

“Beat his ass Daddy!” Dennie shouts in excitement.

“Done and Done Dearest! Also, watch the language!” Those were the last words you heard, the rest were a collection of screams and the sound of wood bashing against flesh.

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You shake your head as you escape from that random memory.

(The hell am I thinking back to that now for?) you wonder.

You sigh in frustration as Vanilla and Peachnia glare at each other while ascending up the stairs, this is probably the last you’ll Vanilla for a while.

“Hahhh…” you sigh, just two days ago, you would’ve been happy to see her go, but after getting to know her, it’s actually a little saddening not being able to nice-bully her into a red-faced mess.

First Noell and Flourette, now Vanilla. At this rate, everyone will be out the door by the afternoon. Not that means the place is getting empty, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. Now the place is being filled with a bunch of new and very weird faces.

Besides the clown gangster Peachnia, now you have to look out for that freaky ghost doctor and a giant with the English skills of a kindergartener.

But the sudden influx of arrival shouldn’t be surprising, it’s only 4 days before the first test of the Exam ends.

If Ronnie’s calculation has any accuracy, only 1000 or so people will pass this first stage, meaning 4000 people will be dropping out or dead by this point, a sad truth, but a truth nonetheless.

It’s clear your short break at this nice house is coming to a close, and the thought just makes your worries that much greater.

(I’m running out of time, yet I still have a bunch of crap to do. Aside from the concert with Yaznov, I have yet to even look at the workshop and I’ve only just started to work on my training and there’s no telling what kind of crazy the next guest is going to be.) You sigh once again.

“They say if you sigh too much you’ll get a heart disease.” Rea states.

“Pretty sure if that was true most of us would be having heart attacks. Do you have even a shred of evidence to back that up?” you ask.

“They say that just because something has no scientific evidence behind it, doesn’t mean it’s not true.” Rea counters.

“Well you’ve got a point there, cuz I don’t need any scientific evidence to prove that’s bullshit. You need to learn how to be more skeptical than this Regina.” You retort.

“They say that if you’re skeptical of every lie in search of the truth, then every truth will begin to look like a lie.” She declares.

“Who the hell are They and why’s everything they say sound so stupid?” you ask.

“they]/i] are anyone who’s dumb enough to believe people are saying these things. I just wanted to see how many fake quotes I could make up before you realized I was just making fun of you.” Rea answers.

“You know, sometimes, I get this urge to let the back of my right hand meet your left cheek. But they say that for every face you smack, your face will receive two more, so learn to contain yourself.” You counter.

“Whoever said speaks a great truth. Small correction though, I would actually slap you three times, not two.” Rea agrees.

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“Is there some reason you’re trying to piss me off?” You ask.

“Piss you off? I’m just making small talk. Surely you have no problem with some banter.” Rea’s eyes wander over to Etheline behind her who’s talking to Brovoski.

That’s when you realize, “Well screw off! Bullying and banter are two different things I’m not taking this crap!” You exclaim as you move towards the hallway leading to the infirmary.

“You shouldn’t run from your problems Derrick. I’m only being honest.” Rea states as she chases after you.

Etheline and Brovoski both give you curious looks before returning to their conversations.

As you get far enough into the hallway to be out of ear-shot of everyone in the living room, you lean against the wall and wait for Rea to catch up.

As you wait, you notice how bright the sun is today, the amount of shadows in the room almost makes it feel like mid-day despite it being early morning. But it doesn’t bother you, for some reason, the sun’s never bothered you.

In-fact, it feels a little invigorating.

Your mother used tell you this freaky story that at the dawn of time, when every family on earth was formed, each family made a vow with some piece of the universe to fulfill some duty in exchange for protection by that object.

That object would then become a family heirloom, which is why every family has some item or legacy that they pass down from generation to generation, or at least, most do.

For some families, it’s a lucky charm, for others, it’s a sword or gun or a tool like a hammer.

As for your family, it’s the sun.

She told you that the Holums family pledged to the sun that we would make everything underneath as shining and beautiful as the grand star itself.

Exactly how is that's supposed to be done completely lost to you. Your Mom used to tell you a lot of things, but you can’t remember it all and honestly it all sounded like make-believe garbage she told you so you’d stop screaming at night.

The only part you believe in a sense is the part about the sun protecting you. You’ve never felt in danger under the glow of the sun, but that’s probably just some placebo effect nonsense, nothing with actual substance.

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While you bask in the sun’s rays, Rea approaches and leans against the wall beside you.

“Are you certain no one will hear us here?” Rea asks.

“The only people that could overhear us are a very loud dumbass who probably won’t understand what we’re saying if he tried and a very sarcastic doctor who probably won’t give a shit about what we’re saying.” You answer.

“Well if it’s just them, even if they overhear, it shouldn’t be a problem.” She states.

“Is there some reason we had to sneak away like that? Pretty sure no one was watching us.” You ask.

“I think it’s best we move onto the next test today.” Rea states.

“What?” you ask.

“I wanted to tell you it’s time for us to get moving onto the next stage of the exam. If I had said that aloud and Etheline or someone else heard, they would probably question why?” She answers.

“That’s what I’m asking. Why leave today?” you ask.

“I believe you’ve also noticed how close we are to the end of the first test? I have a feeling that if we don’t leave now. We could run into some unsavory company.” She answers.

“Most of the people I know are unsavory. Can you remind me which ones I’m supposed to be looking out for again?” you ask.

“I’m talking about Christina.” Rea specifies.

“Oh, shit right…kinda forgot about her.” You admit.

“Well I certainly didn’t. We’ve enjoyed a nice break, but we can’t keep relaxing like this. We have a lead on her at the moment, but it certainly won’t last forever. We have to move before she reaches here. So, it’s best we move now.” Rea states.

“Sorry to say, but I disagree. that sounds a little paranoid to me.” You state.

“Excuse me?” Rea asks.

“What’s to say she’s coming here today or anytime soon? What’s to say she’s hasn’t come down already and chosen to go stay somewhere else like the rest of the contestants?" you suggest.

"Hell, what’s to say she even made down from the mountain at all? Maybe we got lucky and she dropped out early.” You answer.

Rea gives a serious look, “Derrick. Do I need to remind you who we’re dealing with? The tracking skills of any agent of Moon medicines are never to be underestimated. The last 8 years of my life stand as proof of that.” Rea states.

“You’re right, can’t underestimate them. But even so, why are you so certain she’ll catch us here? Maybe it’d be safer to assume she’s moved ahead of us, thinking we would use our lead to escape her? In that case, wouldn’t staying be better?” You suggest.

“And that still doesn’t prove she made off the mountain in the first place, having good tracking skills doesn’t mean you have good survival skills.” you counter.

“Derrick. I shouldn’t need to remind you what me and Christina are. We were born in the same place, trained the same way and have the same intelligence. If I managed to make it down the mountain, she most certainly can too.” Rea points out.

“Okay, you got point there. But why come here? Even if you have the same intelligence doesn’t mean you have the same personalities. What’s to say she isn’t even more paranoid than you are and decides to avoid this place thinking it’s a trap?” you ask.

“That’s true. However, while we may not have the same personality, we all share the same… sensibilities.” Rea answers.

“Sensibilities?” you ask.

“I decided choose to come to this place because I felt that I would be safer here than I would be wandering the cities. I’m sure Christina would also feel the same way, thus she’ll know if I was given the choice between here or going off on my own…” Rea trails off.

“Then you would definitely choose here. Yeah, I get your rush.” You concede.

“I suspect the only reason she hasn’t arrived already is because she chose to take one of the longer routes, unlike me who was forced to take the shortest one because of you." She explains.

"However, that only reinforces the idea that she is sure to be here anytime now.” Rea explains.

“Crap…I’ve still got a shit-ton of stuff to do here.” You complain.

Rea looks a little saddened at your disappointed face, “I understand your disappointment but….” She trails off.

“What?” you ask.

Rea holds her chin and goes into thought for a moment before speaking, “You know what. Perhaps I am being a bit too hasty, we can wait until the end of your concert with Yaznov and move out by tomorrow.” She states.

Your eyes brighten a bit, “Are you sure?” you question.

“Not really, but I’d hate to make any unnecessary movements and attract suspicion. You should complete your contest before moving out of here, so you don’t have lingering regrets.” Rea states.

(She says that, but she didn’t look like she had any doubt till she saw the look in my eyes. She’s surprisingly compassionate. That’s adorable.) you think with a smile.

“What are you smiling about? You’re throwing a wrench in our plans, so be sure you at least beat Yaznov so it’s worth the risk.” Rea orders.

“Yes madam.” You comply.

“Now then, we should be getting back to the living room. Disappearing this long seems very odd, so let’s be on our way-“

SLAM

Rea is cut off by a sudden, very loud slam that sounded like someone bashing against hard wood.

“Outta of my way nerd! I’m done sitting around this prison you call an infirmary!” A loud and familiar voice shouts from down the hall.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you can’t be released with your injuries!? Do I have to sedate you for the 10th time this week!? Your heart won’t be able to take another dose without stopping! You’ll be spending the duration of your stay with a CPB pump!” Timmy threatens from behind the door.

“I’d rather drop dead then spend one more minute in this fucking glorified padded room! I got gotta go see Derrick now!!” Bradford exclaims.

“Dear god what have I done to deserve this…” you whisper.

“I hear the howls of a familiar puppy.” Rea states.

“Yeah, that puppy coming over to piss all over my leg. You better get out of the splash zone while you can.” You quickly send Rea walking down the hall.

Rea obliges your warnings by making a quick escape back to the living room while you stand and wait for Bradford to rush out.

CRASH

Splinters of wood come flying unto the floor as a muscular leg smashes through the thick wooden door, breaking off the handle and sending the door swinging to the side.

What follows is the visage of Bradford grabbing unto the door frame in an attempt to pull himself out of the room revealing whilst doctor Timmy is holding him back by the waist.

Both are filled with a feverish determination to stop the other, “You better get the fuck off of me doc! When the Brad-train starts running, there ain’t no stopping! Choo-Choo!”, Bradford exclaims as he tries to shake Timmy off.

“You’re not a train, you’re a flaming dump-truck barreling straights towards an early grave! And, while I wish I could see you crash, I’ve sworn the Hippocratic oath! I can’t let you die on my watch!” Timmy counters as he squeezes his grip even tighter, fighting to pull Bradford back into the infirmary.

“Are you fucking kidding me!? Who the fuck cares about good health and safety!? After what you just told me, you can shove your Hippo-ass oath or whatever, where the sun don’t shine!!” Braford retorts.

“You cannot possibly be this stupid! That’s it! if you won’t listen, I’m breaking out the sedativ-“Timmy’s threat is cut-short after Bradford delivers a brutal elbow to his face.

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“How’s that for a sedative you fucking prick!?” Bradford taunts as Timmy gets sent to the floor with a bloody nose.

He then goes running down the hall where he notices you standing around, a baffled look on your face, “Ah Derrick! Just the man I was looking for!” Bradford stops himself and grabs you by the shoulders.

“By god, did you seriously just floor Doctor Timmy when he was trying to help?” you ask.

“Oh, don’t give me that! I’m already stitched up! The only thing that bastard does is knock me out and tell me until wait till my wounds heal! If he really wanted to help me, that nerd could start by finding the nearest empty trash can for me to dunk his ass in!” He counters.

“Pretty sure he’s doing all the medical work while you’re asleep.” You state,

“Don’t defend his bullshit! Why the hell does he got to operate on me while I’m asleep, huh!? Seems a bit weird that he can’t work while I’m awake don’t you think!?” Bradford reasons.

“That’s cause you’re an unreasonable dunce when you’re awake.” You counter.

“Oh, who gives a shit about all that! Let’s just talk about what’s happening with you!” Bradford states.

“It’s your health, so you should really care, but whatever, what do you want to know?” you ask.

“Well, a few minutes ago, Doctor Douche over there told me you were having some crazy-ass concert later! And I was like My best bud Derrick’s about to rock this whole damn house and I’m not gonna be there? Fuck that! and well, you saw the rest!” Bradford explains.

“You just knocked your Doctor flat on his ass because you wanted to come cheer me on?” you ask.

“Damn right I did! You’re flattered I know! But don’t worry, what else are friends for!?” Bradford answers.

“Providing good advice. Like not attacking your doctor for something as stupid as that.” You counter.

“Why I couldn’t agree more. Idiotic reasons like that are barely an excuse to treat your doctor in such a cruel way.” Timmy’s voice sounds from nearby, but you can’t see him.

“Huh!?” Is all Bradford has time to say before a long needle jabs into his neck and injects a clear-looking liquid inside him.

“What the fuuuuucccckkk…” Bradford wobbles around for a moment before his legs completely give out on him, toppling him to the floor.

Once Bradford drops, Timmy is revealed to have been standing directly behind him the whole time, small droplets of blood still leaking from his nose, “That’s why bad patients like you are going to be put on a continuous sedative cycle until you learn to listen good advice. I hope you have nice dreams.” Timmy states.

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“R-Real sneaky little shit…huh Doctor…”Bradford whispers as he fades in and out of consciousness.

“Don’t worry yourself Mr.Bradford, it’ll be like being put into a medical coma. The next 4 days will pass in a flash for you. You’re officially be ready to walk around again real soon, I’ll stake my honor as a doctor on it.” Timmy promises.

“I’ll put your ass…in a real coma…nerd…” Bradford squeaks out.

“It’s good to see your fighting spirit has yet to die. Maybe if you put all the energy you put into coming up with school-yard insults into recovering, you probably would’ve been healed already.” Timmy retorts.

“Eat…a…dick…” Bradford retorts.

“See that, that’s why we don’t get along. You can’t just say I’m right and accept how wrong you are, if you were a bit humbler, we could probably be good friends.” Timmy reasons.

“Heck, tell you what champ. If you’re a really good boy, I’ll even give you an hour of consciousness. Isn’t that great?” Timmy taunts.

Bradford forces a smirk with all his remaining energy as he speaks, “You can’t…hold a man…down doc…Don’t worry Derrick….I’ll be at the concert…once I’m done dealing with this…sarcastic prick…” Bradford whispers.

Timmy grabs him the arm and begins pulling him back to the infirmary, “Good god, that tranquilizer has enough Midazolam in it to put an adult bear to sleep in seconds and you’re still fighting it?” Timmy notices.

“Comparing a knuckle-head like Bradford to a bear was your first mistake. You’re better off getting meds that could knock out an elephant. Cause this Dumbo won’t go down with your everyday tranquilizers.” You state.

“You’re telling me. All I did was inform him that I’d be putting him to sleep a little early because I’ll be attending your show as a judge later and then he breaks down my door because it. I swear this man will be the death of me.” Timmy explains as he slowly drags Bradford back.

"So Yaznov wasn't kidding about all the staff here acting as judges huh?" You question.

"Yes, Ivorai, My sister and even Damon will be opening up our schedules just to hear you two play. I ask that you don't make this a waste of time please." He confirms.

"Wait, you have a sister? and aren't you forgetting someone? What about Cynthia?" you ask.

"Yes I do, she works in the workshop, if you thought I was smart, you haven't seen the true meaning of intelligence until you've seen that girl work. She's a bit sarcastic for my taste, but I still love her." He says with no self-awareness.

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"As for that brute Cynthia, she told us she'll be skipping the concert." He states.

"What? Why?" you ask.

"Well, I assumed it was because her Sahelanthropus brain simply cannot understand the aesthetics of proper music, and while I’m probably right, she says it’s because she has some kind of project she's working on at the moment." He explains.

"A project?" you ask.

"She didn't tell anyone what it was, but she did say it will be ready sometime tonight and she says it will, excuse my foul language, 'Blow our fucking socks off with how fucking metal it is.'" He explains.

"Seriously? that sounds sinister. Maybe I should stop by the gym and check what she's doing..." you wonder.

"Sorry, you can't. She's closed the place while she works on her project." He clarifies as he reaches back to the half broken infirmary door.

"Well great. Guess I'll just have to remember that she's planning something, that'll keep me on my toes." you sigh as you turn around to leave.

"Oh yes, that reminds me, she told me to pass a message along to you." Timmy interrupts.

"Huh?" you sound.

" 'Get ready blondie, you've got two shows to pull off tonight.' She said." Timmy envoys.

"That can't be good..." You groan as Timmy slips back inside his room.

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You return to the living room to see Rea and Etheline chatting with each other as Brovoski looks lost in thought, occasionally glancing at Rea before staring into space, contemplating something.

You wonder for a moment what exactly he could be thinking, but you doubt you could hold a proper conversation with someone who can't tell the difference between the words 'three' and 'free'.

So instead, you barge your way into the two girl's conversation instead, "What are you girls chatting about here?" you ask.

As make your presence known, The two ladies regard you in different ways, "Ah Derrick, I see you've calm down." Rea states calmly.

While Etheline is a little less calm, "Oh Derrick! H-How are you? Are you okay now?" Etheline asks.

"Uhhh, fine. Why do you ask?" you question.

"Well, you stormed off with Regina earlier because of...you know what." Etheline explains.

"No, I don't 'know what' what are you talking about?" you ask.

"Oh, please Derrick. Don't tell me you forgot how you stomped off into the hall after what happened earlier?" Rea asks.

That's when you catch it, (Oh this must be a part of the act. Rea must've come up with some bullshit to explain us running off a second ago.)

"Oh, that's what you mean. Well yeah, I'm good now. I was just fed up with..." You look into Rea's eyes to see if she's going to tell you what you're supposed to be pissed about.

She gives no answer, so you decide to go vague, "...With all of it, you know? Sometimes the pressure is just too much and I have to let it out for a second, sorry about that." You state.

"No, no, it's alright. I understand...we all have our fears, I won't call you weak for yours." Etheline consoles.

"Huh? Fears?" you ask.

"Yeah, Regina told me the reason you stormed off is because you didn't want to face up to your fears." Etheline answers.

"Oh, did she?" You ask with an angry tinge to your voice.

"I'm sorry Derrick, I couldn't hide the truth from her. But since she's a trusted friend, I thought you would be fine with her knowing." Rea apologizes.

(Oh, this can't be good. What kind of lies did she feed her?) you think.

"I'm sorry, I know you don't 100% trust me yet, did you not want me knowing?" Etheline asks.

"N-No, it's fine, It's not that big a secret anyway. I'm fine with you knowing." You answer.

"Really? thank you so much! I'm glad you see me in a good enough light for you to share something that personal with me." Etheline states.

(This is sounding worse by the minute. What kind of lies did Rea push down Etheline's throat. She's not dumb, but her naviete makes her easy to lie to.) You recognize.

(I doubt she'll spread false rumors on purpose, but someone like Landon might manipulate her into spilling the beans and then the rumors will spread like wildfire to a dry forest!) You think.

(I can't let that happen. Better bait out whatever garbage Rea told her and see if I can correct it, or at least minimize it.) You plan.

"So Etheline, what do you think of my fears? Are they weird?" you ask.

"Weird? Well...yeah, I would be lying if I didn't think it was a little strange." She answers.

"Strange? What's so strange about it?" you ask.

"Well, to think a big, tough guy like you was scared to death of something like that is...very surprising to say the least." She answers.

(Goddamn it, is everyone playing the noun game or something!? Just give me a straight answer!) you shout inwardly.

"I mean, is it really? I'm pretty sure everyone is afraid of that kind of thing, right? Isn't that common?" you bait.

"Is that what you think? I'm pretty sure that's a little abnormal I mean, I'm a huge coward, but not even I'm afraid of..." she trails off.

"Of? Of what?" you ask.

That's when Etheline comes close and talks low, so no one else can hear, "...Clowns." she whispers.

"..." You're left speechless.

(Give me a fucking break.) You want to shout as you glare daggers at Rea, who's giving you a small smirk from behind Etheline.

"I mean a fear like that is something only little boys have, but don't worry! I won't judge you! I'm definitely not judging you!" Etheline exclaims.

"...." you can't find the words to describe this nonsense.

"Regina told me that the reason you stormed off was because you were ashamed of how much Peachnia scared you and how you couldn't save Vanilla because you were half-way to wetting yourself in fear." Etheline states.

(It just gets worse...) you think.

"I mean, after your parents died in that tragic carnival accident. I can imagine why you're so scared, but you can't let this fear hang over you forever. Though, I do have to admit, It's a little cute that you're deathly afraid of something so innocent." Etheline compliments.

(And there's my limit.) You pull away from Etheline and quickly throw a hand over Rea's shoulder and speak.

"Excuse us for a sec, got to chat about something real quick." You walk away politely.

You hear the sound of someone gasping, you assume it's Etheline, since Brovoski doesn't care any of this.

You walk a good distance away from Etheline and speak, "You wanna explain all of this huh?" you demand.

"I'm sorry, is there a problem here?" she asks.

"Damn right there is! What's this about me being piss myself-scared of clowns!?" You ask.

"I had to come up with a cover story that was clearly related to the situation and the recent attack was the clearest thing that came to mind.” Rea explains.

“And that’s a story about how I’m scared to shit of clowns? Seems like a bit of a stretch don’t you think?” You counter.

“Well, when you went storming off so outrageously out of the blue, I had to come up with something outrageous to explain it." Rea answers.

"This is outrageous alright! But let’s ignore that bullshit for now, let’s focus on this garbage about my parents dying at the carnival or something? What’s up with that?" You ask.

"Well, she questioned the validity of my story. So, I tested my improv story writing skills and came up with a story where your parents were murdered tragically at carnival while you were young." She answers.

"What sort of shitty hero origin story is that? You must think you’re some-kind of fucking story writer. Well sorry to break it to you, but your material's back-wash amateur tier at best!" You insult.

"How blunt. I know I’m not the best at story-writing, but I feel a little proud of this one. It had something to do with a hall of mirrors and a clown with a gun and how’s it’s all a big metaphor for the murderous clown inside all of us." Rea counters.

“Well at least you got that part right, cause hearing all this making me feel murderous! All I need is some clown make-up to show you how metaphors can get literal!” you threaten.

“Stop complaining and be grateful the story was good enough to convince her.” Rea counters.

"That's the damn problem! She'd believe you if you told her a guy in a fucking bat costume came in to save me after my parents died cuz he can relate! Fix this bullshit before someone asks questions!" You counter as you shake her forcefully.

She then throws your hand off her shoulder and speaks, “Sorry, but there’s no way I can do that now. She already believes it whole-heartily I couldn’t tell her it was all a big lie now after she’s gotten emotionally invested." Rea states.

"Even You wouldn't crush the heart of a sweet girl just to escape embarrassment, would you?" Rea asks.

"I'd take that heart, stomp on it, light it on fire and put it out by throwing gas on it! You fix this now or I swear I'm gonna-"

"Hey what are you guys talking about? You seem angry Derrick." Etheline interrupts your tirade.

(Shit.) you curse to yourself, "Well ummmmm..." You struggle to come up with an excuse.

That's when Rea pushes you out of the way and speaks, "Well, you see Etheline, Derrick simply cannot contain his unending fear." Rea starts.

"Even though he knows Peachnia will be gone in a few hours, he still fears for his life and was asking me if I was willing to stay in his room tonight to keep guard of him against any Pierrot threats in the night." Rea eloquently recites.

(This bitch, I swear I will get her back for this, I swear it...) however, Your mind is less than eloquent at the moment.

"What!? Really!?" Etheline exclaims.

"Yes, he even asked me to escort him to and from the bathroom like a scared child. His trauma is simply too strong." Rea glances back at you with a look that says, This is my vengeance for all your teasing lately, don't get so arrogant to think you can one up me again

(So, this is Rea's true power as a bully! Most men would be crying on their knees, begging for the torture to stop damn it!) You realize.

(But hell no! Not me, I won't give up my pride as a tormentor, my spirit as a brow-beater! Her vengeance only makes me want to bully her harder! I only need one chance! Just one chance will be enough...) you plead on the inside as things seem hopeless.

"Oh my gosh! You guys are so close that you can sleep in the bed and go to the bathroom together!? I can hardly believe it!" Etheline exclaims, catching Rea off-guard.

“No, I said guard him, not sleep with-“

“That’s right!” You spring into action before Rea can dispel the misunderstanding.

You smirk at Rea as you think (There’s a saying in the Holums family. When opportunity strikes…) You throw an arm over Rea’s shoulder again, (You strike back! two times harder!) you recite as you open your mouth.

“I’m not the only one who with a terrible phobia. Regina here is terrified by the dark!” You declare to Etheline astonishment.

“Regina’s scared of the dark!? There’s no way that’s true! Right?” Etheline looks over to Rea.

“Of course not, he’s lyin-“

“I know it sounds crazy, but she really is! Why else would she be okay with sharing a room with me every night!” you counter.

“What!? You sleep together every night!?” Etheline exclaims.

“Derrick, stop this. You’re creating more misunderstandings.” Rea states.

“What misunderstanding? I’m just telling it like it is. Just like you did for me.” You smirk as you continue.

“She’s a really scaredy cat underneath all the brood and cool chick act. She needs something to hold on to at night or else she’ll wet the bed! We sleep together every damn night because she’s so clingy.” You state, completely unabashed.

“I…I…I can’t believe…” Etheline can barely process what she’s hearing.

The look of terror in Rea’s eyes as you continue is just delectable, “Well you better believe it. But don’t worry, we don’t do anything strange. We only do it to keep each company at night.” You clarify.

For a moment Rea relaxes as you slow your assault a bit, that’s when you strike, “Well, at least, I try not to make it weird. It’s Regina that can’t contain herself!" you add on.

"Some nights, she’s so terrified that she has to hug me like a teddy bear the whole damn night just to go to sleep!” As much as you hate the misunderstandings, you hate the thought of Rea one upping you even more, so you decide to go all in.

The subtle look of despair in her eyes brings light to your existence, “Hugging throughout the night…going to the bathroom together…sleeping in the same room…every night…” Etheline mindlessly repeats, her brain is shutting down under the pressure.

“Now wait a minute, that’s a bare-faced lie. In fact, all of it’s a lie. Don’t believe a word this idiot says, he’s just being petty.” Rea counters.

“Oh? Who’s telling lies? I ain’t got no reason to get back at you for anything. I’m just telling a trusted friend the truth.” You state.

Rea’s about to call you out on your blatant bullshit, when she realizes calling out your lie would mean busting her cover story for you, forcing her to accept your claims in order to keep things consistent.

“Are you two…really that close?” Etheline asks.

“Damn right we are! Right Regina?” you give her a look that says, And that’s what you get for fucking with a bully god, come back a 100 years from now and maybe you can get back at me.

Rea has a look filled with embarrassment, frustration and hate as she answers, “Y-Yes, we share the same room to counter each other fears. It’s the most efficient means of keeping each other calm.”

“uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….” Etheline has once again left the building.

“But know this. I have no feelings for this ingrate. None whatsoever. Don’t confuse relationships of convenience for romantic affection for I have nothing of the sort for him. You understand that, right?” Rea asks.

“uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…..” Etheline’s murmurs with blank eyes .

“Sorry, but It seems Alice has left for her wonderland.” You point out.

“Well great. I’m going to ask that you go on and join her, or better yet, how about dive under her wheels, so you can get a taste of how far you’ve thrown us both under the bus.” She spits.

“Woah, you seem a bit mad. Was telling Etheline all that really that bad?” you ask.

“Bad can’t even begin to describe this. We have to hope that by the time she comes back to reality she forgets everything she just heard before it reaches the ears of anyone sensible.” Rea states.

“Don’t worry about that, by the time she wakes up, everything she heard will just seem like a bad daydream to her. I mean, do you really think I’d give her the impression we sleep and go to the toilet together?" You clarify.

"I mean, people already think we’re secret lovers or something, imagine if Landon caught wind of that crazy shit, we’d be in misunderstanding hell!” you explain.

Rea rubs the bridge of her, “If people think we’re lovers, we’re already knee-deep in misunderstanding hell. After this exam is over, we’ll have to sit down with everyone clear the air once and for all.” Rea states.

>What do you say?

>Yeah, we really need drop this stupid crap.

>Who even cares? Let them think what they want.

>How about instead of breaking the rumors,
we make them come true?

>30 minutes later

>No responses

Did everyone jump thread or perhaps I chose a terrible Friday to run?

>>2962502
Gimme a minute to read, catching up./

>>2962356
>Yeah, we really need drop this stupid crap.
>And for the love of everything good, don't pull something like this again. You wanna try to bully me fine, but this was just as likely to blow back at you before I pulled this.

>>2962356
>How about instead of breaking the rumors, we make them come true?
For bullying purposes

Then
>Who even cares? Let them think what they want
It's just some mindless fun, not like it's hurting anybody

>>2962541
Thank god finally found a way to fix captcha so I could post. I'm glad that there weren't a lot of choices today

>>2962541
>It's just some mindless fun, not like it's hurting anybody


Issue is if someone thinks we lied to them, also appearances DO matter.

Well there, now people are coming in. Though it seems some of you are misunderstanding the purpose of this choice.

This isn't a random dialogue choice I put in to get a break from all the writing, this choice is to determine Derrick's attitude towards the idea of Rea being his lover.

I won't tell you how Rea reacts to each choice, but might want to be careful as in picking which path this goes down.

>>2962612
oh then

I mean dErrick wouldn't be opposed but she's probably not in the right head space to commit to anything serious either.

>>2962572
>Issue is if someone thinks we lied to them
I could understand if it was something important but it's really not that big of a deal. Etheline won't feel absolutely betrayed if she finds out the stupid clown story was fake, maybe disappointed but not betrayed. And that's IF Etheline remembers this

>also appearances DO matter
Etheline thinking we're afraid of clowns won't affect her entire view on us, In fact having a small fear like clowns might makes even more relatable and likable. If she was a complete stranger then sure but she's gotten to know us so this is far from her first impression on us as a person

The hunter exam is stressful man you gotta have some fun so that the stress doesn't overwhelm you. Something like this is pretty harmless in the grand scheme of things

File: It's nothing diffcult, yo(...).jpg (358 KB, 1000x1024)

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s???????????????????????w???????????????????????i???????????????????????t???????????????????????t???????????????????????ʃ???????????????????????a???????????????????????j???????????????????????l???????????????????????d???????????????????????ə???????????????????????v???????????????????????l???????????????????????a???????????????????????j???????????????????????t???????????????????????j???????????????????????u???????????????????????w???????????????????????J???????????????????????l???????????????????????n???????????????????????o???????????????????????j???????????????????????ɔ???????????????????????r???????????????????????f???????????????????????e???????????????????????t???????????????????????????????????????????????spuki skɛri skɛlətənz sɛnd ʃJvərz dawn jɔr spajn ʃrikJŋ skəlz wJl ʃak jɔr sol sil jɔr dum tənajt spuki skɛri skɛlətənz spik wJð sətʃ e skritʃ jul ʃek ænd ʃədər ən sərprajz wɛn ju hJr ðiz zambiz ʃrik wir so sari skɛlətənz jʊr so mJsəndərstʊd ju onli want tu soʃəlajz bət aj dont θJŋk wi ʃʊd 'cause spuki skɛri skɛlətənz ʃawt startlJŋ shrilly skrimz ðel snik frəm ðɛr sarkafəgəs ænd dʒəst wont liv ju bi spJrəts supərnætʃərəl ar ʃaj wəts ɔl ðə fəs bət bægz əv bonz sim so ənsef Jts sɛmi sJriəs spuki skɛri skɛlətənz ar sJli ɔl ðə sem ðel smajl ænd skræbəl sloli baj ænd drajv ju so Jnsen stJks ænd stonz wJl brek jɔr bonz ðe sɛldəm lɛt ju snuz spuki skɛri skɛlətənz wJl wek ju wJð e bu

Ego diu deliberandum est in actibus

Also, just as a curiosity, did anyone solve this riddle I left?

It's nothing complex, you should be able to solve this.

The anon that manages to get it right get's a special treat.

>>2962612
Oh that makes sense I guess. Well I stick by my choice as he'd probably be open to it but has got more important things to worry about right know

>>2962657
It's a fucked version of spooky scary skeletons. I mentioned that on Twitter

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>2962664

That's half right. I just added that because it's Spookytober.

Aren't you curious what those other letters and questions marks mean?

Anyway, since we got a split decision and no else voting, might as well roll for decision.

1-Clear up mistunderstandings

2-Make some truth of the rumors.

>>2962684

Oh my, the Dice gods are feeling romantic today, interesting.

>Writing

>>2962684
Wait I don't think I was clear with my choice. The first part was just as a joke to bully area but his genuine thoughts were more like
>Who even cares? Let them think what they want.

Also the question mark part is what I'm still trying to figure out

>>2962703
*To bully Rea

>>2962709
I understand that anon, I was just trying to be funny with my description of your choice.

>Still writing.

>>2962726
Oh ok forgive my dense ass

File: Rea Springfield17.jpg (55 KB, 1280x1219)

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(In all honesty, what anyone thinks of your relationship is meaningless, all the rumors are so insane by this point that I doubt anyone seriously believes them. They just keep building off it because it’s funny to see how extreme they can make it.) you think.

(However, it’s really fun to get a reaction out of Rea, so maybe it’s time to test just how much she really hates these rumors.) you devise.

“But are the rumors really all that bad?” you ask again.

“Of course, they’re bad, we keep getting harassed because people keep asking thinking we have this...hidden passion for one another.” She states.

“Well, I guess you’re right. But, don’t you think there’s another, faster way to get all those curious asshats to leave us alone?” you ask.

“What? Isn’t just telling them the truth the fastest way?” she asks.

“No. The fastest way is for us to make the rumors come true.” you counter.

“….” There’s a brief moment of confused silence as Rea takes in and analyses that statement.

“Well? What do you think?” you ask.

Her confusion is replaced by realization as she speaks, “Oh, I understand. You mean we should pretend to be a boring couple so people lose interest and stop talking about us. I see, that might work, even if it is slightly embarrassing.” She concludes.

“I never said anything about pretending.” You take a step closer and give her your best straight face, “I’m dead serious, and who said anything about us being boring together? I say we’d make a more exciting couple than the rest of these dumbasses would.” You pressure.

“Wait, are you telling me you’re…not joking…” Rea’s face goes rigid.

Not out of disgust, but out of extreme confusion. Her mind seems to go into hyper-speed, focusing everything on deconstructing, reconstructing and analyzing your words to see if this is really a joke or not.

The mere thought that you may be serious causes her brain to quickly shut down as she begins to mumble, “Wait, so, what you’re saying is…what? But that makes no…but wait it does…or does it? Can you not…but would it make a difference… I just… Uh…wahhhhh…” She very quickly breaks down.

It takes everything you have to retain a straight face while watching the solid structure of Rea’s mind collapse in on itself.

(This is the first time she’s hasn’t had a comeback prepared for me. She really didn’t think I would actually pull this stunt.) you gloat.

(this is why you’ll always be below me when it comes to bullying Rea, you just aren’t prepared enough to go to the extreme to get a response.)

File: Turnland Brovoski.png (1.09 MB, 1000x1330)

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You can swear the longer you leave her in this state, the more amazing it gets. You can physically see the gears turning away in her head, before swiftly coming apart at the seems.

If her brain was a Super Computer before, your words just turned it back into a Dial-up PC. One that's on the verge of giving you a blue screen of death.

Before she can completely break down, you slap her back and smile, "That's what I'd say if I really wanted to give someone a misunderstanding. Super-convincing right?" you ask.

She snaps back to reality in a flash, and in less than a second you can see the boiling anger welling up in her eyes, "Excellent plan Derrick, perhaps you should quit being a hunter and try your hand at becoming a gigglo?" she asks.

"Hey now, I'm not that skilled, flattery won't get you anywhere." You laugh to yourself.

"You're exactly right, you're not skilled at all. I was just hoping you'd try and join and catch the deadliest, nastiest STD possible. Only then would you know the full extent of my wrath and the horror of the vengeance I will inflict upon you. Ready yourself." She threatens.

"..." You believe she's joking, but even so, those words strike genuine horror in you.

With mind like's Rea, whatever she'd come up with would be wilder and more horrible than even your worse nightmare...you really hope she's joking.

"Oh, so confession was just funny joke then? Good, Brovoski scared you steal his wife away." A brawny, powerful voice sighs in relief.

You both stop talking as the massive shadow of Brovoski hangs over you, Rea speaks first.

“…Excuse me? What did you say?” Rea asks.

“Brovoski say he feel safe. He almost lost chance to get beautiful wife. Now, it’s time little raven flew blonde man’s coop and came over to Brovoski’s deluxe nest.” He flirts.

“…” Rea is left speechless.

You giggle to yourself, “Pfft hahahaha, oh man. Usually I’d floor your ass for calling me blonde. But damn! I can’t believe this is really happening!" You begin laughing uncontrollably.


“Couldn’t have said it better myself. What even is this and why is it happening?” Rea asks.

“Brovoski asking lovely little Raven to join Brovoski in grand adventure known as love. Does little Raven accept?” Brovoski asks.

"..."Rea can't even find the words to come back to this legitimate confession.

"Oh shit, I’m dying. Hahahahahhahahahahahaha!” You laugh.

This looks like a good break point, I have to go to bed early tonight for important business in the morning tomorrow.

Won't cut into the thread, hopefully...

But either way, goodnight anons.

>>2962895
Night Rocker

>>2962703

Oh wait, just before I sleep, a small hint for this anon since he's putting so much effort out on this little puzzle.

Hidden from the Eyes, you'll need to use your Ears and you might be forced to learn to Count...

Your way to the answer. But when you find it, you'll see the answer was clear as day!

Ego diu deliberandum est in actibus

Good luck.

>>962895
Thanks for running good to see you're back. Loved the banter between Derrick & Rea

>>2962946
The hunt continues

File: Batman thinking.gif (408 KB, 500x345)

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>>2962946
I know I'm probably wrong but are the letters between the questions marks an alphabet?

>>2963383
I was also thinking about that at some point but it seems unlikely cause some letters repeat

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>>2963764
Maybe it's a reference to something?
Let's review the facts
>There's 29 letters between the question marks
>The original text (spooky skeletons) was converted into presumably the QM's made up language
>He's presumably used the exact the same text and made up language for a character called 'dʒɛnəsəs' who we've probably not met yet https://pastebin.com/vrdB2bJg
Come on lads, we're hunter chads, surely we can figure this out or fail miserably

>>2964034
>for a character called 'dʒɛnəsəs' who we've probably not met yet
I'm pretty sure the pastebin only shows characters we've met. I assume it's that weird guy who gave us an inhaler in the last episode

File: basedboyy.png (157 KB, 500x375)

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>>2964065
I'm pretty sure it isn't considering he gave us his name after we accepted his help
“Wait a second! Who…are you?” you ask.

>He turns back and smiles, “Arztz Todd. A doctor who just loves to save the needy. I’m a contestant just like you, I was picked up by Damon a few hours ago.” He explains.

Maybe it's a character related to our past? There's nothing definitive as of yet

>>2964065
The characters name is genesis

>>2964034
Here are some more facts
>We know it probably has some relation with latin because of the " Ego diu deliberandum est in actibus" thing
>It involves using hearing and counting
>There's exactly 24 question marks in between each word except for the last which has 48 because of the lack of letter

>>2964105
oh shit forgot about that. Then it's definitely someone from our past. Probably one of the people involved in us being painted black. It could also possibly be Genesis like what >>2964135 said

>>2964160
>dʒɛnəsəs
>genesis
It's definitely Genesis

File: [Enjoyment].png (80 KB, 609x263)

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>>2963383
>>2963764

Sorry, no, if I wanted to pull a riddle like that off with my own alpahabet, I would used some obscure dead language like old Celtic or Lithuanian.

The language I used here is actually very common for all of you, In fact you're using it right, while you read this message

>>2964034

This Anon is on the right path, but you're failing to utilize your senses properly.

>>2964065
>>2964105

Arztz is a good boy, he didn' do nuffin wrong.

You'll learn why he's around very soon, but not so soon.

>>2964135
>>2964172

And here we have the one anon to figure at least one part of the riddle.

>>2964160

>24

Oh no, seems I messed up posting the riddle a bit, this will give away a small hint, but allow me to correct this error.

Titles: ðə ʃajnJŋ sən, ðə praməst wən, vɔjs ən ðə blæk
>the shining son
>the promised one
>voice in the black

>>2964189
It's all spelled phonetically but that doesn't help with the question marks

File: Spoiler Image (316 KB, 1400x2104)

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s???????????????????w???????????????????i????????????????????t???????????????????t???????????????????ʃ???????????????????a???????????????????j???????????????????l???????????????????d???????????????????ə???????????????????v???????????????????l???????????????????a???????????????????j???????????????????t???????????????????j???????????????????u???????????????????w???????????????????J???????????????????l???????????????????n???????????????????o???????????????????j???????????????????ɔ???????????????????r???????????????????f???????????????????e???????????????????t??????????????????????????????????????spuki skɛri skɛlətənz sɛnd ʃJvərz dawn jɔr spajn ʃrikJŋ skəlz wJl ʃak jɔr sol sil jɔr dum tənajt spuki skɛri skɛlətənz spik wJð sətʃ e skritʃ jul ʃek ænd ʃədər ən sərprajz wɛn ju hJr ðiz zambiz ʃrik wir so sari skɛlətənz jʊr so mJsəndərstʊd ju onli want tu soʃəlajz bət aj dont θJŋk wi ʃʊd 'cause spuki skɛri skɛlətənz ʃawt startlJŋ shrilly skrimz ðel snik frəm ðɛr sarkafəgəs ænd dʒəst wont liv ju bi spJrəts supərnætʃərəl ar ʃaj wəts ɔl ðə fəs bət bægz əv bonz sim so ənsef Jts sɛmi sJriəs spuki skɛri skɛlətənz ar sJli ɔl ðə sem ðel smajl ænd skræbəl sloli baj ænd drajv ju so Jnsen stJks ænd stonz wJl brek jɔr bonz ðe sɛldəm lɛt ju snuz spuki skɛri skɛlətənz wJl wek ju wJð e bu

Ego diu deliberandum est in actibus

>>2964195
Getting closer and closer anon, keep it up.

Meanwhile, thread resumes.

>Writing.

File: Rea Springfield03.jpg (97 KB, 500x500)

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“First of all, I’m not a raven, my name is Regina Meratal and second of all, why are you trying to flirt with a complete stranger?” Rea asks.

“Well, Brovoski has been watching you from far, far away place of living room couch. In small time Brovoski has been watching you, he sees that you are not only beautiful, but also very smart and strong." He compliments.

"You not afraid to get hands dirty to get what you want. Brovoski respect that, you are Brovoski’s perfect woman. It was sight first love.” He explains.

Rea looks at a loss for words, “…Thanks for the compliment, but surely you know that can’t ask someone you’ve known for less than an hour to become your lover, right?" She counters.

"So I’m going to ask you return to the far away land of couch, or even further would quite nice actually.” she suggests.

“Brovoski know this much to take in. But understand you must. Brovoski join Hunter Exam to get moneys to create big shop of work in his homeland and he need woman’s hand in marriage to do that.” He explains.

Rea looks confused, “I may just be uncultured, but I’m quite sure you don’t need a wife to run a workshop. Is this a famous pick up line in your country? If so, you need to make new ones.” she counters.

“Me no pick-up line, that call-girl job.” Brovoski misunderstands.

“…There has to be a brand name for this kind of stupidity. Let’s call it Supreme.” Rea states.

“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahh, holy fucking shit, this is gonna kill me!” You almost fall to the floor with laughter.

“This no joke or brand. It Kuggend tradition that with the birth of every shop of work, means birth of child follows after.” Brovoski states.

“So, it’s a social norm to take a wife and impregnate her before opening a workshop?” Rea asks.

“Yes little Raven, Brovoski knew you were smart. Kuggend craftsman with no wife is like carpenter with no hammer. Useless and stupid.” Brovoski answers.

“It doesn’t take a genius to understand your predicament. But it does take a sensible person to see how little it matters to me. I reject your proposal wholeheartedly.” Rea dismisses.

Brovoski looks devastated, “Please little Raven! It not big deal to you, but it have big effects on Brovoski business. He can’t go back to living in mother’s basement! He need this!” He pleads.

“You live in your mother’s basement? I see failure comes in extra-large sizes too.” Rea insults.

>>2964235
swittʃajldəvlajtjuwJlnojɔrfet
Here's all the letters without the question marks. There's still some phonetic characters in there but I can't decode it.

>>2964235
Ego diu deliberandum est in actibus
Translates to "I long to deliberate actions" according to Google but Google is pretty shitty with Latin

>>2964276
First word might be switch

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>>2964189
Tch, no matter! As a hunterchad, I'll use my superior intellect to beat you in your game.
>but you're failing to utilize your senses properly
>in fact you're using it right, while you read this message
So subverting our exceptions, the language written is some kind of English.I'd dare say it's some old version of it but from what I've checked there's too few little similarities, so that's likely not the case.
>>2964311
>Switch all the letters with
DAME DA! ZEN ZEN DAMEDA!
I'm stuck, maybe I've made error in my logic?

>>2964357
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phonetic_transcription

>>2964276
>>2964281
>>2964357

Hmmm, you were so close, but then suddenly you went off track.

Fear not, for your efforts I shall impart unto you a nice little hint.

The anon who counted the number of questions marks almost solved the riddle, once you find out the meaning of that number, the rest of the question should be easy

Read it if you want, but true Hunter chads need no hints with their higher intellects helping them.

>Still writing.

>>2964393
Oh shit. Ok according to my count there is now 19 question marks in between each letter

File: Burn-Son.jpg (19 KB, 577x600)

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“Brovoski’s pride and heart is breaking! In Kuggend, man can’t start build anything of himself without proving he can build relationship with woman! Please! You must give Brovoski chance!” He gets on his knees in a pathetic attempt to garner sympathy.

However, even on his knees, his massive height leaves him towering over Rea, all getting on his knees accomplished was disgusting Rea further as it brings his massive face right in hers, getting his breath into her mouth.

Rea coughs out and speaks, “Your breath reeks of garlic and fish. What sort of garbage have you been eating?” Rea asks with repulsion written all over her face.

“Oh that the smell of my homeland’s local delicacy, Garlic burn-Soned danbe soupneane!”He states.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t speak inane gibberish, do you mind repeating that?” Rea asks.

“Rude! But in English, it means, garlic danube fish soup made in a Burn-Son.” Brovoski explains.

“That explains the smell, but what’s a Burn-Son?” Rea asks.

“A Burn-Son is Kuggend special cook pot. It portable ultra-heating device that cook and carry food at same time, it amazing and produce good food, especially soup.” He explains.

He then pulls out an object that resembles a thermos flask, only it’s extremely large, has two large chambers attached at the top and bottom sides of the flask and looks to have a multitude of buttons controlling heat and time.

Rea examines it, “As disgusting as what it created it is, I do admit a portable stove that can double as a thermos is extremely useful.” She praises.

Brovoski’s eyes light up, “This Brovoski’s special invention! It have many function that make it more than just good cooker! It can emit flames to act as torch, process chemicals, the flames are so precise, that you can even make glass with it!" He lists.

"He plan to sell it all across Kuggend along with all his other products.” He states.

“Something like this will sell exceptionally well. Not bad.” She states.

“See! This is why Brovoski must open shop! Now join Brovoski in marriage so we may sell delicious soup for the entire world to consume!” Brovoski appeals.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t marry a man that reeks so intensely of desperation or pitifulness. I have standards.” Rea shuts down.

“Little Raven’s tongue colder than Cremox mountains! Brovoski’s heart is in tatters!” Brovoski is on the verge of crying.

>>2964409
Then maybe 19 has something to do with the spooky scary skeletons shit but I'm getting a headache so I leave it to the rest of you

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>>2964409
HOLY SHIT I JUST REALIZED. THE SUN IS THE 19TH CARD IN THE TAROT DECK

“Oh, come on Regina! By this point you have to give the guy some hope. Even I’m starting to feel bad.” You cut in as you finally calm down from your laughing fit.

“No way. There’s no way I’m getting married, so this massive idiot can save the thermos market. And why would I give hope to someone so hopeless?” Rea counters.

“I never said marry the idiot, I mean give him so pointers on how to talk to women, or even pointers on how to talk in general, because he needs that too.” You state.

“Yes! Listen to blonde man’s wise words, you smart! You can teach Brovoski how to find love!” He pleads.

“Oi, don’t push your luck you social failure, want me to make your face unmarriable?” You threaten.

“Me no mean no harm! Me just want to pass exam and find love! And little raven can help with that! I know she can!” Brovoski pleads.

“This has to be some kind of sick joke. I barely know the first thing about making relationships and why should I waste my time doing this?” Rea questions.

“Well do you got anything better to do?” you ask.

“Of course I do.” Rea counters.

“Reading books in the library with old men like a massive dork doesn’t count Regina.” You state.

“…You’ve been working on the cleverness of your comebacks haven’t you Derrick.” Rea doesn’t deny it.

“Please! Please! Brovoski on his knees! He can’t go back alone! He need this!” Brovoski says with welled up eyes.

“…” Rea looks conflicted for a few seconds, before letting out a huge sigh, “Fine. Since I have nothing better to do.” Rea concedes.

Brovoski’s smile is brighter than a thousand Christmas lights, “Brovoski thank you! Brovoski will invite you to wedding in Kuggend as Bridesmaid and blonde man as best man!” Brovoski promises.

“Good for you, big bastard! With Regina helping you, nothing’s impossible! Go out there and capture the hearts of the real ladies my man!” You encourage.

“However, Derrick, you’re going to help me in this romantic endeavor.” Rea tacks on.

“Wait what?” You ask.

“You’re the one that wants him to find love that badly. Of course you should be there to guide him on finding it.” Rea answers.

“ummmmm, I don’t know about that…” You back off.

“If you don’t come along, then I guess we’re giving up on this little exercise. More reading time for me.” Rea threatens.

“Ahhhhh! No! Brovoski’s happy married life! It fading away! Blonde man! Please help! You cannot abandon Brovoski!” He begs.

“It should be no problem, a romantic maestro like yourself should have no problem securing a heart or two for someone like him, right?” Rea taunts.


>What will you do?

>Fine, I’ll help.

>Screw that, I have better things to do!

>>2964430
Bingo. Then what's the 38 question marks for?

File: HUH...gif (1.3 MB, 320x213)

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>>2964430
OH MY GOODNESS!
good job anon, you've put us brainlets to shame
THAT WAS SO OBVIOUS HOLY FCUk, AGHH
>Fine, I’ll help.

>>2964434
>Screw that, I have better things to do!

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>>2964430

https://youtu.be/-YCN-a0NsNk

And this anon solves the second part of the riddle, well done!

Just one more to go, I knew the Hunter chads could pull it off.

>>2964450

Those were just to put some distance the actual answer and the spooky scary skeletons meme. Don't mind that.

>>2964454

Don't feel ashamed anon, one last part of the riddle to go, it's anyone's game now, let's see who solves it and takes home the prize.

>>2964450
From what I've googled
>38. Knight of Cups.--Arrival, Approach, Advance; R. Duplicity, Abuse of Confidence, Fraud, Cunning.
Also
>29. Seven of Sceptres.--Success, Gain, Advantage, Profit, Victory; R. Indecision, Doubt, Hesitation, Embarrassment, Anxiety.

>>2964434
>>Fine, I’ll help
Wouldn't wanna be a hypocrite now would we?

>>2964468
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qiNTQgGGxZE
One last part eh?
Our first point of discussion should be what exactly IS the last part
I'd guess it's the unsolved phonetic, that or it's some kind of logical connection to the SUN and spooky skeletons.

>>2964454
>>2964480

>Help the big man find a little love.

>Writing.

>>2964523
The one thing we haven't figured out is the "Ego diu deliberandum est in actibus" thing. We know what it supposedly translates to but we don't know what it's trying to tell us

>>2964533

Just a little clarification since you basically know what that phrase means, that translates to:

I am very deliberate in my actions

It means nothing I put in this riddle was put there by mistake or accident.

Unless I made a mistake or accident, in which case I'll just hand the answer to the first anon to see it.

>Still writing.

>>2964543
Since it's not that, it's GOTTA be the unsolved phonetic
>swittʃajldəvlajtjuwJlnojɔrfet
The first part's likely Switch
The second part is maybe All, I'm not certain about this however
I can't figure out the rest

>>2964523
Just gotta say this song kicks unreasonable amounts of ass. I gotta rewatch Kaiji

The ost as a whole is fucking great great,https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgVb8-D25nc&list=PLoKYn-zLHTdxkTMNrVH65dJt0QpbS0Yc_&index=11
ざわざわざわざわざわざわざわざわざわざわ
K-KAJI-SANざわざわざわ
In all seriousness, I'm hitting a dead end. any ideas?

>>2964658
Well the answer to the first 2 parts were Genesis and The Sun so maybe we can use those to figure out the 3rd part. I tried checking about Genesis 19 in the bible but haven't found anything yet

>>2961227
If you look really closely at this OP image you can see the word dreamtime in it, idk if that's significant but maybe

>>2964737
... I'm pretty sure that's just a watermark anon

As Brovoski stares you down with the best puppy dog eyes he can muster with that bear-like face, you spend a minute thinking.

(Ah man, I was laughing my ass seeing Rea be forced to play cupid for this loser, but I'm getting dragged in now? This won't work) You curse.

(To be honest, I've never even had a girlfriend myself. I've spent most of my life fighting and training, so I've never had time.) You confess.

(Not to say I've got no romantic experience, I was the only guy sober enough at the bar to comfort all the drunken office ladies who came by to drown their boy-friendless sorrows.) you recollect.

(But this is different, this is way worse than the solemn sorrows of a career-woman's lust. This is the pathetic pleading of an over-sized basement-dweller!) You recognize.

(This a flaming train wreck that would be hilarious to watch burn but painful to ride to the station.)You think.

You look to Brovoski, ready to reject the enormous man and move on with your day, but one look into those lonely eyes, causes a pain in your heart that makes you hesitate.


(But, at the same time...he's just looking for love. He has the look of a man that's been shot down so many times he buy a small mansion if you could turn dirty looks into coins!) you acknowledge.

And with that in mind, you debate for a few more seconds, incapable of reaching an answer.

"Well Derrick? Do you accept?" Rea pressures.

"..." You struggle to open your mouth.

"I see, well I have an entire book about solipsism to discuss with Damon, so I'll be on my way-"

"Hold it!" you shout, just before she turns and leaves.

She turns back, a satisfied expression on her face, "Yes?" she asks.

"I'll do it." You answer.

"Oh is that so?" she asks again.

"I won't back down on my word. I'll help him find love. Hell, by the end of the day, I swear I'll get this man a damn harem in his name!" you declare.

Brovoski looks ecstatic, "Brovoski Knew you had heart as golden as your head! You are now Brovoski's most treasured friend!" he states.

"Don't push your luck you giant cave troll! I'm only doing this show the little raven I refused to be out-played." you state.

Rea looks angry for a moment before quickly returning to her usual calm face, "At least you prove not to be a hypocrite Derrick. Fine then, let's all convene at 4:00 in the afternoon, I need some time to read up and romance techniques if I'm to be of any help in this endeavor." She says as she begins to walk away.

But just before heading upstairs, she turns to you and speaks, "And just so you know, I also refuse to be out-done by you. If you bring him a harem, I'll have the state after him for breaking polygamy laws." she states.

You glare back, "You're on."

Brovoski watches your competitive stare-down with awe in his eyes, "Oh my, Brovoski can taste the ozone off those lighting glares. Brovoski have bad feeling about this...but if it get him wife, who care?" he finishes.

>>2964689
>>2964737
>>2964754

As funny and out there as some of these theories are, no, I didn't put that much thought into the letters and numbers.

I meant for this riddle to be rather simple and you're all very close to solve it, so I'll give you one final hint and just wait for someone to figure it out.

The word you've found after getting rid of the question marks should form a 9 word sentence if you separate it the right way. Once you do, the answer will become so clear, it will piss you off when you find it.

File: [Casual Sadness].jpg (83 KB, 1280x720)

83 KB JPG

And with that, I must take my leave for a bit, as some private business has sprung up on me.

Don't worry, I'll only be gone for about 3 hours or so...hopefully.

In the meantime, Try and solve this final part before I return.

>>2964658

You are now my favorite anon, Kaiji is a masterpiece. Don't tell anyone

>>2964812
Working backwards from the phonetic transcription is not worth the trouble for me, sorry

File: Spoiler Image (3 KB, 479x466)

3 KB JPG

>>2964838
That's why you'll never succeed anon, you don't have THE HEART

>>2964812
It pains me to say this, but I must sleep
Being a Brit bong is suffering

>>2964887
the first word of the phonetic sentence is likely sweet. here's the resource I used but I'm not gonna finish it

http://www.internationalphoneticalphabet.org/ipa-sounds/ipa-chart-with-sounds/

I THINK I GOT IT ANONS!

Something along the lines of:
"Sweet child of light I judge in your fate"

I'm pretty confident in it but it might be slightly off. Let's hope God is forgiving in that case

>>2965235
Nice work anon

>>2965345
Thank you other anon

I'm just sitting here refreshing the page and waiting for God to come back and tell if I'm dead wrong or not at this point. It's pretty damn stressful

File: Spoiler Image (443 KB, 700x1026)

443 KB JPG

I return, ready to press on.

>>2965235
>>2965488
Oh? What's this I see?

Anon....


Brilliant! You've solved the riddle! oh soul brimming with dedication and intelligence, I am proud to grant any wish you so desire!

Within my power of course.

File: Etheline Brooks24.jpg (566 KB, 600x768)

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>A few minutes of death staring and casual insults later.

With that, you’re left alone with the delirious Etheline, who’s actually gone so far into her trance she’s drooling while standing up.

The last time this happened, you left Etheline staring in space and she fixed herself naturally, but that seems a bit cruel to do with all these new and dangerous people just jumping in through the front door.

So, best wake her up.

You walk up to her and quickly shake her, “Time to wake up! You can’t stay in the land down under forever!” You shout.

“But Mr.Rabbit, we have to stop the Red queen! How else am I going stop this madness!” Etheline responds in a strange accent.

“Well sorry Etheline, but that’s enough wonderland for you! Time to go back through the looking glass before I bust your head open with it!” You exclaim as you give her another shake, harder this time.

“Wait what? What happened?” Etheline comes back to her sense this time.

“Regina and Brovoski went to go chase some pussy, so I came to wake you up.” You answer.

“What? They went out to go chase cats? Why?” She asks.

(She’s so innocent it’s physically painful…) you think to yourself.

“Damon said we have a cat problem that needs cleaning. They went out to help” You lie.

“Oh really!? I need to go and help then! Me and Brovoski were having a talk about testing out some new equipment before you guys arrived, so he needs to hurry and catch those pussies and send them to the pound!” Etheline states.

(Oh, he’s going to pound some pussy tonight if I have anything to do about it) you joke internally.

“Best you leave the pussy hunting to the professionals. Instead of that, how about you tell me about this new equipment?” you ask.

“Oh, I have this new invention I’ve made that I need a physically strong subject to help me test.” She begins.

“I thought I’d get Brovoski to help me since he’s so huge and has experience handling machinery, but then you guys came in and cut us off, so I guess I’ll need a new test subject.” Etheline states.

“No point crying over split milk. What sort of new gadgets are building that you need a hulk like Brovoski to test anyway?” you ask.

Etheline scratches the back of her and speaks, “It’s a bit complex, but throughout this Exam I’ve noticed something. I’m not a very good fighter, am I?” she asks.

“Being honest, your lack of strength’s one of your charm points. It’s so sweet that your fighting ability is so terrible you couldn't break a wet noodle without choking on it." you explain,

"It means you were born for loving, not killing.” You compliment.

Etheline smiles, “Ahhhh, that’s the nicest way someone’s called me a weakling ever before. Thank you so much!” She states.

“Well at least you can take it in stride.” You state.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fully aware of my weakness. Without everyone else and MUMA supporting me, I doubt I would’ve made it this far. But since I’m currently waiting for parts to repair MUMA after that terrible crash, I need some way to defend myself that doesn’t involve relying on others.” She explains.

“I’m glad to see you’re not afraid to face your weaknesses, that’s the first step to gaining real strength. The next one is being able to throw a punch, and I have yet to see you do that, so you have some work to do.” You state.

Etheline smiles, puffs out her chest and speaks proudly, “You’re exactly right Mr.Holums, but you see, my latest invention will correct that exact problem right away! All I need is a skilled test subject to use it on and I’ll be more powerful than you could have ever imagined!” She says in a haughty tone.

“Oh? I like what I’m hearing. Now you’ve got me interested Professor Brooks. What is this amazing invention?” You play along.

“Seeing is believing Mr.Holums! You can find me in the workshop, testing out my amazing invention for the rest of the day! I hope you’ll come and see my work!” She exclaims.

“…I’d also like you to help me test it out since no one else will agree to help me so…” She tacks on

You can’t help but smile when this girl prattles on, “If I find time, I’ll be there, Professor Brooks.” You state.

She shakes with excitement, “I love it when you call me that! Looking forward to it!” She says excitedly as she heads to the workshop.

And with that, you are alone.

You check the time off a clock on a nearby wall, 9:14 AM, it reads.

You sigh as you begin to collect yourself and order your activities for the day.

(Today is the day, my showdown with Yaznov. Been a lot of shit-talk and build-up with that funny bastard, but it comes to an end today and I mean that both metaphorically and literally) You start.

(Me and Rea will be heading to the next Exam as soon as this business is finished. Which means your nice little vacation in this Mansion is basically over, a shame, it was fun while it lasted.) You recollect.

(With that in mind, that means whatever I do today is the last of the free-time I’ll have for a good while. So, I better use the time well considering my list of shit that needs to get done isn’t getting any shorter. I just told Etheline I would come out to help her test her new invention, I would hate to disappoint her, but at the same time, If go find Rea right now, I can get some Nen training in before we have to help Brovoski in the afternoon.) you note.

(Or maybe, I could go out into the forest and get some physical training done myself, I'll need to get some training done on my own, since Cynthia’s doing some crazy shit in the background.) you list off.

(By this point practicing piano by this point will just stress me out, in fact, this whole situation is just stressful, maybe I should just go hang with someone who doesn’t have that much going on, though everyone is almost gone by this point.) you notice.

(Maybe you can hang out with one of these new weirdoes pouring in, lord knows there’s enough of them to keep you occupied.) You finish off.

>What will you do?

>Go help Etheline in her test

>Go train in Nen with Rea

>Go train in the forest. (Bring someone with you?)

>Wait until the afternoon and go pussy hunting with Brovoski

>Go hang out with someone.

>Rest in bed until the show begins.

>>2965805
>Go train in Nen with Rea

>>2965805
>>Go help Etheline in her test

>>2965628
What's this? I leave for 30 minutes to grab some food and I'm greeted with such great news!

I'd like to thank every anon that figured out all the stuff I was too stupid to, couldn't have done it without you! Special thanks to that one anon who posted Kaiji music. 'm certain I only solved this because I was listening to that the whole time (that and some Sympathy for the Devil)

But man, I'm stumped. Choosing what to wish for is probably gonna be harder than the riddle. Why do you do this too me God!?

>>2965706
>(Oh, he’s going to pound some pussy tonight if I have anything to do about it) you joke internally.
This is gold

>>2965805
>Go help Etheline in her test
Nothing relives stress like hanging out with a qt. And depending on what she needs us to help her with it could also serve as some good training as well

>>2965842

As I said, it was nothing difficult if you all just banded to together to solve it. I would give a wish to all of you if I could, but that would ruin the nature of the prize.

And probably destroy the structure of the story, considering you can mess with that too. I could even give you spoilers if you wanted, only minor ones though.

But anyway, just tell me what you want and I shall give it to you!

Within the confines of my power of course.

>>2965819
>>2965831
>>2965868

Looks like we're spending some time with Etheline today.

Good choice.

>Writing.

File: Lab door.jpg (107 KB, 1920x1080)

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(Well, Etheline seemed like she could use some help right away, might as well go to the workshop and see what this amazing new tech is...) You reason as you get moving to follow after Etheline.

>A few minutes later.

Once you find your way to the workshop, the first thing you notice is how ominous the entrance is.

You see a large, metallic door with a single key hole and no handle. The walls beside the door are covered in posters with large red words and yellow-tinted symbols.

Warning signs for dangerous bio-material, possible fires, deadly chemicals, hell, you even see the symbol for radioactive material.

Each one of them give off the impression that you’re about to enter a nuclear testing site, rather than equipment workshop. There’s too many signs for you to catch each individual warning, but one in particular catches your eye.

It reads:

Warning! Careful where you step and DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING, unless given permission to by workshop staff! Experimenting is always ongoing and always dangerous!

It’s then followed by a notice that says:

CURRENT PROJECT: SOUNDBREAKER AND B.D.D. TESTING IN PROGRESS, COME AT A LATER TIME FOR EQUIPMENT REPAIRS AND SUPPORT FROM THE STAFF. IF YOU WISH TO WORK ON YOUR EQUIPMENT ALONE, BE EXTREMELY CAREFULLY AND WATCH WHERE YOU TREAD

(The hell is this? A workshop or a minefield?) You ask yourself in confusion.

What should you do?

>Come later, this is clearly too dangerous.

>Go inside anyway, what could possibly go wrong?

>>2965938
>Go inside anyway, what could possibly go wrong?

>>2965938
>Go inside anyway, what could possibly go wrong?
>Knock and tell them you are coming in

>>2965938
>Come later, this is clearly too dangerous

>>2965960
>knocking
Oh come on anon don't be boring

>>2965942
>>2965960
>>2965989

>Go inside anyway

>Roll 1d100+10(+10 from the Analytic Fighter bonus)

>DC: 50

Rolled 26 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2966022

>>2966054
the dice apparently

Rolled 1 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2966022
What could possibly go wrong?

>>2966065
huh...

>>2966065
god dammit anon

Rolled 99 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2966022

File: [Zawa Zawa Zawa].png (181 KB, 673x203)

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>>2966065

Oh man, unless the next roll is a saving one, this is going to hurt a lot.

ANON USE THAT FAVOR TO SAVE US

>>2966083
>>2966084
>Unless the next roll is a saving one
>anon proceeds to roll just that

Good job anon

File: What a fucking nutcase!.png (387 KB, 766x813)

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>>2966083

BAKANA

Looks like the Dice gods are taking us on a rollcoaster tonight. The original rolls are discarded and we reset.

Give me 3 more rolls.

Rolled 65 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2966102
Ok NOW nothing can go wrong

Rolled 95 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2966102
All is Ash

Rolled 60 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2966102

Rolled 71 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>2966118
>>2966122
>>2966137

Oh good, you passed, critted even.

Good work, I'll have to produce some kind of reward for this.

is it bad there was a small hope in my heart that the 3rd roll would be another 1? Just to see how much that would have freaked you all out?

>Writing.

>>2966156

a little yeah

>>2966156
A small piece of myself wanted to get another 1, not gonna lie

File: Spoiler Image (27 KB, 510x449)

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(Fuck it, it can be a minefield, an explosives laboratory, hell, it could even be a nuke-testing ground for all I care! I want to work to help with this experiment! And no number of mines, bombs or nukes can stop me!) You encourage yourself as you step boldly through the front door.

You open the door and first thing you notice is that when you step in is that the ground is uneven. Though it’s not because there’s a step-up, but rather because there’s a bump in the ground.

Beep-beep, the strange device clicks.

(Shit.) is the only thing you have time to think as you reflexively jump forward.

BADOMMMMM

You barely escape the deadly range of the explosion that follows quickly the sound.

However, even after avoiding the direct blast, you still get caught in the outer radius of the blast and it sends you flying forward, blasting you into the workshop.

You wonder how you'll possible land safely flying at this high of a speed.

"hm? WAHHHHHH!" That is, until something small and fluffy catches your fall.

WHAM The sound of your collision with the small object reverbs through the room as you both tumble into the center of the room, crashing through several plastic objects, too soft to do any damage, but tough enough to stop your roll.


"Owwwww..What the hell just happened?" you ask as you recover from your brutal crash.

"I was going to ask you the same Mr.Human bullet." Another voice states, catching you off-guard.

"Wah! Who's there!? Are you the one that planted that trap!? Get your ass out here before I'm forced to drag you out!" you demand.

"No need for that. You've already dragged me enough Mr.violent Madman, I ask that you please spare me anymore pain." The monotone voice speaks again.

"Huh?" That's when you look down and notice a tiny girl pressed under your weight, so small that you didn't even notice you were mounting her.

"A little girl?" you ask.

"First you break one of my ribs then you insult me? Your cruelty knows no bounds Mr.Evil Savage." She states.

"What the hell? Were you the one that set that landmine? A kid like you?" you ask.

"Yes, please keep spitting in the wounds you've opened in me, they make you look that much nicer Mr. Sick Sadist." She states.

"Hey now, I ain't no sadist, I don't like giving pain anymore than I like receiving it." you counter.

"Then perhaps you would removing yourself from on top of me, I can't breathe under your weight. Unless you also enjoy choking girls for pleasure after you ram them, Mr.Disgusting Pervert." She states.

You quickly jump off her, "I'm definitely not that kind of sicko! And I really didn't want to hear that from a kid!" you shout.

"You really need to stop calling me a child, I'm 26." She says as she unsteadily brings herself back to standing.

File: Spoiler Image (185 KB, 743x1075)

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"You're even older than I am!?" Is all you can say back.

"Why are you so surprised? You must you see I'm a fully grown woman. Especially after rolled around on the floor with me and mounted me like an animal." She says in a perfectly apathetic voice that makes it impossible to tell if she angry, joking or serious.

"Huh...?" is all you can blurt out under your complete confusion.

This clearly 12-year old girl is prancing around in a lab coat saying she's 2 years your senior. her tiny frame and height make her hard to see without bending your head down.

The only thing that adult feature on her body must be her body-length (And very fluffy to the touch) hair.

She regards your extremely confused visage with the shake of the head and an unchanging expression.

"Well if you're done gawking at me like I'm some bad lab experiment, we should to get down to business." She states, barely shaken after what just happened.

"Wait, wait, business? What business?" you ask.

She fixes her uniform and speaks "What do you mean? You're here for her aren't you?" she asks.

"her?" you question.

That's when someone else comes bursting out of the door on the other end of the door.

"What's going on out here!? Did something explode again!?" A deep, gravely and very intimating voice emits from the door near the other end of the lab.

You look to meet the voice and are immediately shaken to the core when you see what them, "What the fuck is that!?" you shout.

What appears to a woman in a high-tech, heavy-plated combat armor burst from the door. One look from the woman's red as blood visor instinctively puts you into a combat stance.

"her." The little girl repeats.

"Oh great, what is this? Some-kind of combat android or some shit!? By this point I wouldn't even be surprised!" you state.

"Huh? No, no, no. I'm not a death robot." The woman say as she undoes the straps connecting her helmet to her head.

As soon as the helmet comes off, pink locks fall out of the mask to reveal a smiling face and a cutesy voice, "I'm just a professor waiting on her assistant!" She announces.


Your fists drop to your sides in a mix of confusion and astonishment, unable to even comment on the situation.

The girl walks to her side and speaks, "This is the man you told me was coming to help you? He knows how to make an entrance, it will take weeks to heal the rib he broke." she states.

"Yeah, sorry about that, things have a way of...exploding around him.Hahahaha.." Etheline rubs the back of her head in exasperation, the sound of rough metal and heavy equipment rubbing and bouncing on each other makes everything she does seem a little more violent.

And your psyche has been abused enough, "I'm gonna need an explanation here. now." you demand.

The little girl directs you to a nearby table with some table stool seats on it, "Sit there and everything will be explained to you." she states.

And here I shall stop for now, I know it's a bit early, but morning arrangements and all that.

Side note: if you had crit-failed this roll, you would've temporarily broken one of your arms or legs (You would've rolled to see which one) which you would disadvantage you in a certain...engagement later.

See you tomorrow anons.

>>2966432
Night


>Side note: if you had crit-failed this roll, you would've temporarily broken one of your arms or legs (You would've rolled to see which one) which you would disadvantage you in a certain...engagement later.
Glad we avoided that then

I awaken from my long slumber, back on the journey.

>Writing.

File: Numere Lodge(Workshop).jpg (86 KB, 800x533)

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You take a second to examine The workshop as the woman sits you down near Etheline.

The place certainly lives up to it’s name-sake, various long work-tables house work equipment for every kind of engineering and construction. You see saws for cutting wire, robotic arms for building pieces of equipment, delicate and heavy alike.

You see nuts, bolts and screws scattered across multiple tables and some on the floor and in corners of the room.

That’s one other thing you notice, this place is quite a mess. Though the equipment is everywhere it should be, you see quite a few important, expensive parts just scattered haphazardly across the room.

This place is a workshop, but it’s also this girl's laboratory, and perhaps her bedroom as well, as you see a small mattress and pillow tucked away in the corner that looks like it hasn’t been properly cleaned in a good while.

After a small wait, the girl comes to join you at the table, 3 coffee cups in hand, she slides, one over to you.

“Here, take this as a small gift to show my guilt for what happened.” She states.

“Oh, a cup of black, instant coffee without a drop of sugar in it completely makes up for all the possible broken bones. Thanks!” you taunt.

“Sorry Mr. High standards, but Etheline ended up emptying my entire sugar and milk cabinet with all the all-nighter she pulled here.” The girl states.

“Really sorry! I can’t drink coffee straight without at least a small jar's worth of sugar in it, my tongue would fall off otherwise.” Etheline apologizes.

“Oh, well, not like making good coffee would make your bullshit any less stupid, so whatever. Personally, by this point, I’m used to forcing it down bitter anyway.” You say as you take down the coffee.

“I don’t know about the stupid part, but at least you can recognize there’s no use in complaining." She states.

"I myself believe coffee with sugar or milk in it isn’t real coffee anyway.” She sets down one cup and downs enjoys the one in her hand.

“Wait a second, if Etheline can’t drink black, who’s that second cup for?” you ask.

“Hm? Oh that’s mine. I need at least 4 cups a day to survive, this makes my 3rd cup.” She says while throwing the large mug back like a glass of water.

“Uh, pretty sure if you take in that much caffeine you ain’t gonna be able to sleep tonight.” You state.

“Sleep?” she asks, as if it’s the first time she’s ever heard of such a thing.

File: Mary Divana06.jpg (40 KB, 362x512)

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“…Something tells me if we tested it, we’d find more caffeine in your blood than hemoglobin.” You state

“Oh please, of course I know what sleep is, I get my full 8 hours like every other person.” She counters.

“Oh yeah, when was the last time you slept then?” you ask.

She gets stunted for a moment, “…last week.” She admits.

“Sleeping 8 hours out of a 40-hour work week isn’t normal and it isn’t healthy. Lay off the beans for a minute you addict.” You state.

“40-hours?” she asks as if it’s the first time she’s ever heard of such a thing.

“…This seems like a conversation that would leave me more sleep-derived than you, so let’s just move on.“ You brush off.

"I'm glad you have the sense to notice that, Now then, since we’ve all calmed down, where to begin on how to clear this all up…” She asks.

“How about you start with that thing that almost killed me? What’s up with the landmine? This workshop double up as bomb testing site?” you ask.

“Not at all, this isn’t a bomb testing zone, though in my experience, workshops and bomb sites are synonymous terms.” She answers.

“If you really mean that I’m gonna bet you failed most of your grade school English test, that is, if you’re even out of grade school.” You counter.

“Do I have stamp my driver’s license to the wall just to get you to understand I’m in my mid-Twenties?" She counters.

"Posting crayon drawings on a wall won't convince me." you state.

A small flash of anger crosses her apathetic eyes "Well, you've got me there. Someone who can’t even read a sign posted in big, bold letters all over a door probably wouldn't be able to read a driver's license anyway.” She counters.

“I mean you did read the sign outside, right? There's no way you missed it.” she asks.

“Gah…” Can’t deny, you did read the sign, yet went in despite the warning.

“I will admit that leaving random, volatile objects about the place is a bad habit of mine. But I think it’s a far worse habit to go walking into places with random, volatile objects.” She states.

“Okay, you’ve made your point, we’re both retarded. So how about you name what half-rotten brain cell told you this was a good idea before we discuss mine.” You counter.

“Hey guys, you don’t need to fight over this! Ms.Mary admitted she was wrong, so why don’t we find each other’s good points instead?” Etheline cuts in before you start fighting.

(Mary? Ah, she must be Timmy’s sister, that explains the extremely sarcastic aura.) you notice.

Mary nods her head in agreement, “Yes, why don’t compliment each other instead of fight?”

“Your reflexes in dodging that blast were extremely impressive, I can tell you’re an excellent fighter.” She states.

You fake a smile and speak, “Oh why thank you! That bomb you nearly blew my legs of with was excellently made! I can tell you’re an excellent psychopath!” You insult.

“You’re quite the cantankerous individual aren’t you? Well, I enjoy being a bit of snark in my life from time to time, so perhaps we may get along.” She compliments.

“I wouldn’t be so damn mad if didn’t nearly die a few minutes ago! How the hell do you expect me to calm down!” you exclaim.

“Well, first of all, you wouldn’t have died, as you stepped on a stun mine.” She counters.

“Huh? A stun mine?” you ask.

“Yes. Just a powerful stun mine of my invention.” She states as she hops off the stool and walks over to the mine you stepped on earlier.

She brings it back to the table, when it comes into your view, you notice it doesn’t have the look of an gunpowder explosive, it has the same shape but the innards are more complex, a mess of wires and jacks interconnected with a strange speaker device.

“This is my newest invention, the Soundbreaker.” She clarifies.
“A non-lethal but highly effective explosive device that utilizes the power of sound to create a powerful concussive force through the use of a one-way transducer that sends anything that touches it flying away at high speeds.” She explains.

“Excuse me…what? You lost me at transducer, whatever the hell that is.” You state.

She sighs and takes a sip of her coffee, “Do you know of Acoustic levitation?” she asks.

“Nope, physics isn’t my forte.” You answer.

“Well explaining things to laymen isn’t my forte. Go look it up on your own later. Till then, let’s just chalk up my invention to the wonders of science.” She’s says while waving her hands around as if she’s casting some kind of magic spell.

“Which one of us was the cantankerous one again?” you ask.

“Didn’t I just say you two shouldn’t fight? Jeez, Derrick, if you’re this terrible at meeting people all the time, you’ll never make any new friends!” she scolds.

“I don’t think I want friends who think a cup of coffee is a good way to apologize for blowing someone up.” You counter.

“No, no, Ms.Etheline is right. Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot, how about some introductions?” She asks.

“Go right ahead.” You allow.

“Please give me your name and your favorite board game.” She asks.

“What the hell kinda question is that? Can’t you just get my name?” you ask.

“Don’t make things difficult. Just answer the question.” She counters.

“Errr…Derrick Holums and The Game of Life.” You reluctantly answer.

“Hmm interesting choice. Derrick, I see you’re a realist cynic with a strangely positive view of world.” She guesses.

That catches you off guard, “Well, I wouldn’t call myself a cynic, more a healthy skeptic, but I guess you could say you’re right.” You admit.

“I figured as much. By the way I’m Mary Divana and my favorite game is Risk.” She states.

“How the hell can you guess my personality with such little info?” you ask.

“People aren’t nearly as complex as they like to believe themselves to be. Most people can be summed up in 2 or 3 qualifiers. Thus, I only I need simple information about someone, such as their favorite board game to understand their primary traits.” She explains.

“You think you can read someone based on what games they play in their free time? You’re just using vague terms to hazard educated guesses about people. Pure luck that you got me somewhat right.” you counter.

“It’s not about the games, it’s about the essence of the games. The Game of Life may be pretty and innocent on the outside, but the whole objective of the game is to live the best life possible in the shortest time possible.” She explains.

“Well yeah, no point to the game if you don’t try and live your best life. So what? How does that make me a cynic for playing it?” you question

“Only a realistic cynic could win at The Game of Life.” She declares.

“You can’t win through guessing and leaving everything to random chance as the game has too many brutal pitfalls and trap choices that lead to debt and injury to yourself and your family." She begins.

"but there also many benefits to taking the risky routes when the time seems right.” She explains.

“There’s no room for pure optimism, but at the same time, pessimism would have you breaking even constantly, never allowing to truly win. Thus, you have to be realistic about the paths you pick and cynical about the choices you’re offered. Add a healthy dash of positivity for seeing the brighter things in life to that mix and you’ve got your average Game of Life player.”

(I want to say that’s dumb bullshit, but that summation is actually pretty accurate) you think as your left speechless.

“I see hit the nail on the head, did I?” she comments.

“Okay then, what’s Etheline’s game? And what’s it say about her?” you ask.

“H-Huh? Mine?” Etheline who had been listening to the conversation blurts out.

“Oh yes, she’s a monopoly player. Soft-hearted and generous but mildly dishonest.” She answers.

“Dishonest? I get the other two, but why dishonest?” you ask.

“Monopoly is a game all about propping up others while staying on top yourself. It’s a game that encourages giving to others in order to win.” She states.

“Huh? That makes no sense, isn’t the aim of Monopoly about bankrupting all the other players? What does generosity have to do with that?” You ask.

“That’s a misconception. Yes, you win the game when you’re the only business standing, but you aren’t meant to actively seek your opponent’s bankruptcy, but rather passively lead them to it.” She answers.

“Passively? You’re just arguing semantics. In the end, you’re still supposed to be the last business standing.” You counter.

“Oh no, there’s a big difference. The difference being that one way is honest to a fault, the other way is deceitful and underhanded.” She counters.

“Deceitful? Underhanded? What are you even talking about? Are we even talking about Monopoly anymore?” you ask.

“Of course we are. That’s the true essence of Monopoly, it relies on your ability, not to trick people, but lead people into tricking themselves. There’s no better way to destroy everyone in Monopoly than being as nice and giving to others as possible.” She begins.

“…”You and Etheline go silent.

“By garnering trust, making deals, ensuring you give people the false sense of security of being able to rely on you when things get dangerous. You can naturally lead to people giving you the properties you need to win, because they trust that you won’t use it against them.” She points out.

“All the while you stay on top, always ahead of everyone else, but no one can see it.” She continues.

“Eventually, when the majority of the properties are yours and everyone else is low on cash, you simply end your benevolence, giving them no choice to fall into bankruptcy, crushed by their own trust, led gently by the hand to their own death. Those are the kinds of people that win at Monopoly.” She finishes.

“…I didn’t think it was possible to make a children’s board game sound so fucked up.” You state.

“It’s a perfect representation of how actual Monopolies are created in my mind, I don’t imagine the creators intended for such people to win it though. Geoge Henri must be rolling in his grave.” She states.

“Well, even if what you’re saying is true, none of that applies to Etheline. You can’t seriously be saying that Etheline is some kind of shady lying scumbag right?" you ask.

“That’s exactly what I was going to ask! I hate lying! And I hate doing unfair things, and I try my best to be honest.” Etheline agrees.

“The keyword there is try. Sometimes being dishonest and underhanded is something you do unintentionally, whether you want to or not.” She clarifies.

“That’s why I called you mildly dishonest. Of course, I don’t believe some kind of lying faker…more than likely anyway.” She states.

“That more than likely part is super mean…” Etheline states.

“Hey, hey, I don’t like what you’re implying there. She may not be the most trustworthy girl around, but I’m damn sure she isn’t a liar.” You counter.

“You’re not helping derrick…” Etheline says, slightly hurt.

“Did I ever call her a liar? I just said she was mildly dishonest. That doesn’t mean she lies, just that’s she not someone who’s very easy to get the truth from.” She gives a Etheline a piercing stare.

Etheline flinches, but otherwise stays calm, “Can you not talk about me like I’m in the other room? I won’t deny I’m probably not honest 100% of the time, but I’m pretty sure everyone has secrets, or things they don’t want to say. That’s fine, right?” She asks.

“You both keep acting like I’m accusing you of something. You misunderstand. No one here has done anything wrong.” She answers.

“That so? Sure know how to string people along don’t ya?” you accuse.

“Only fools get pulled along other person’s thread. All I was trying to say was that for some people, being deceitful and sneaky comes second nature. They simply can’t help it, they do it without even realizing it.” She explains.

“You agree with me, don’t you? Ms.Brooks?” She asks.

Being called by her last name seems to give Etheline pause, “…Yeah. I guess you might…have a point.” She admits.

There’s a moment of intense silence that lingers as Mary seems to impose some kind of quiet pressure on Etheline. You can’t decipher the meaning behind her stare, her emotions are hidden too well behind that mask of a face. But you can tell from the atmosphere that whatever that look means, it’s certainly nothing good.

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I'm very sorry anons, but I've just received a call from my Mother asking me to hang out.

It's been a while since she's called like this, so I expect I'll probably be gone for the duration of the day, but I definitely can't turn down my Mom when she wants to go out and have fun.

It's unfortunate, but I'll probably won't be able to return until much later, so I'll have to continue posting tomorrow.

So much for my nice free weekend...

>>2969240
It happens man, as someone who has lost his mother this year, take it from me, cherish every moment.

>>2969240
Shame, see ya tommorow

Thread resumes in 30 minutes.

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The choking silence almost becomes unbearable, that is, until someone opens the door and enters the room.

“Hey, anybody working in this place? I hear there’s a dabster for weapons round these parts. I Need some work on my side-“ The man’s voice is cut off as he notices the heavy atmosphere of the room.

However, the reason for your collective silence is now because how striking the man who just entered the room’s appearance is.

Covered in a strange mix of metal and leather, his outfit looks like he’s fresh out of the sand and heat of a hot desert, right down to the thick hat he wears on his head, expect that he’s in-doors and there’s wetlands for miles outside.

It’s as if someone tore a page right out of the book of shitty stereotypes and made it into a person, “Well, ‘scuse me, am did I cut my way into your standoff? Sorry, I’ll be back after you put the bodies in the casket.” He jokes.

(Good god even is accent is exaggerated? What era is this idiot from?) you wonder.

Mary is the first to speak, “No, there’s nothing dangerous happening in here, there’s no need to leave.” She clarifies.

(As you long as you don’t count the random explosives left around the place.) you scorn internally.

“Oh good, then I guess I’ll just saddle up and start working on my Canister. One of you knows your way around a gun right?” He asks.

“Before we talk about that. Can I ask for a name, stranger?” she asks.

He smiles and tips his hat down for dramatic effect, “Glad ya asked. Some call me the lone ranger…the Prairie prowler…The man with the big iron…The Desert side wanderer…The Wayside Gringo…” he continues to list.

Mary is clearly not entertained, “Okay yes, yes, next you’ll tell me to step out because it’s high noon and shoot me because the town isn’t big enough for the both of us, can you just skip to part where you give your real name?” She cuts him off.

“Hey! I had at least 5 more titles to burn off before I was done!” he complains.

“God that accent is thick, what back-water did they drag your ass from?” you ask.

“Well if you must know city-boy, I’m Hustun-born and grown, right out on the old frontier.” He corrects himself.

“Oh really? You’re from Xetas?” you ask.

“Course I am, I’m a wanderer from the Xetas desert snow, surviving off the land, journeying all across the world, saving people in need, avoiding the law and the bounty hunters…” He prattles on again.

“Um, doesn’t that basically mean you’re a hobo?” Etheline comments.

“Excuse me lady?” he asks.

“If you’re surviving off the land and constantly moving from place to place, that makes you a hobo. Do you not have a home to come back to?” Etheline asks, legitimately cornered.

“Errrr, Well…” He struggles to respond, confirming Etheline’s theory.

“Oh great, he’s totally a homless beggar ain’t he? That explains the thick 5’oclock shadow. Probably hasn’t seen a clean razor since his last charity drive.” You state.

“How dare you!? I ain’t no street-side begger, I’m the Man on the Mission! The Canyon Crawler! The Horizon Rider! The-“

“-Street-side vagrant in need of shelter, be sure to donate to your local charity partner!” You say in a mocking parody of his accent.

He clenches his teeth in anger, “You’re really crusin’ for a brusin ain’t ya ornery varmint…” He threatens.

“And you’re looking for a welfare check! Go back to the soup kitchen line where you belong.” You counter.

You snarl at each for a moment before Mary claps her hands and speaks, “Yes, yes, while I’m sure it would be so much fun to make fun of our new friend’s economic situation, perhaps it would be best to let him finish telling us his name before we try and besmirch it?” She asks.

The man snarls compose himself before speaking, “Well if the missus most know, the name’s Reynauld Stevens.” He introduces.

“Good, now we have a name from our homeless friend. Please try not to kick him while he’s down, the economy has already done that to him enough.” Mary states.

“Dang it! I ain’t no Hobo, I’m just a good ol’ Yorbian boy! Why in my time, I was a hero in the Yorbian military, drove back many a threat to the country, even got myself a medal of distinguished service with my performance.” He explains.

(Ah, he must be a Bergerosse fighter, that explains how he survived the first exam, he’s probably a lot smarter than he looks.) you note.

“Too bad I had to get in a fight with one of my commadin’ officers, he wronged me in a way I could never forgive and they kicked me out. I lost all my pension and I was dishonorable discharged and everthin’ just went to hell from there.” He states.

“That’s terrible…what did your commander do to you that you had to do something so brutal? He must have hurt you badly…” Etheline wonders.

“Oh that’s right young lady. He hurt me terrible when he told that I need to stop wearing my hat during stealth missions.” He explains.

“uhhhh, what?” Etheline asks.

“What is it? Didn’t I mention I wore these clothes on every mission I went on?” He says as he parades his gaudy, bright and extremely noticeable clothes to you, “I wanted to make anyone we fought know they were going up against some classic Yorbian cowboys. So I went in these clothes no matter the mission!” He proclaims.

“…” Etheline looks stupefied, you can’t blame her, this has to be the most idiotic thing you’ve heard all week.

“But get this, my commander said I was the reason we were always getting spotted on sneakin’ missions and that I need to toss my stupid hat." He laughs.

"Can you believe that nonsense? Bastard was a coward anyways, why go stalking around when we could blasting varmints in the open? Who cares for a few bullet wounds?” He states.

(I take back my smart comment, he’s probably only good with a gun and not much else.) you correct.

“There so much wrong with that entire story I don’t even know where to begin…” Etheline states.

“You’re telling me young lady. It’s a damn shame I know.” He agrees, lacking any sense of self-awareness.

“Etheline, just let it go, sometimes you hear these kinds of things in this exam. You get used to it.” Mary says, not phased at all by the idiocy.

“Anyway, what brings you to the hunter exam?” Mary asks.

“Yeah, well after getting tired of tasting the morning dew and living the good man’s life, I’ve decided I want to get back into the soldier’s life by starting my own private military company!” He states.

(Oh great, another mercenary company, those always work out great for people.) you think.

“I’ll call them the Storm Riders and I need me that hunter’s license to do it! So, I’ve come to bring some good o’l Yorbian justice to this damn exam and bring home that hard-earned chink.” He states.

“So you need a hunter’s license to start your own fighting force? Well, I wouldn’t say such a thing is a good idea, but I guess you could make a good War Hunter, so go for it.” Mary encourages.

“Good to know I have approval lady, not that I needed it.” He agrees.

“Hey, just wondering, if you got all this skill, why couldn’t you just get a job with some random mercenary group instead going through this torture fest?” You ask.

“Well…thing is…I actually tried to but…” He states.

“But they turned you away because of the outfit right?” You finish his sentence.

“I was gonna say that. Yes, no one can understand the prestige of having a right cowboy on the team, so they always send me on my merry way.” He confesses.

“Been costly to travel around with no source of income, so I had to sell my house to keep going round the world…maybe even had to gamble some funds in a few games of liars’ dice…” He explains.

“Oh man, Let me guess. You probably gambled away all your money, ended up broke and homeless" You point out.

"So After a few weeks of sleeping under light poles in the cold, you got tired of Prowling the streets, or sorry, the prairies, dodging debt collectors, or sorry, Bandits and used what little money you got from begging off the street to join the Hunter Exam.” You guess.

“Grrr…well, I won’t deny that I’ve had a few troubling run-ins with the local bandits, that might have resulted in me accruing a bit of a debt.” He concedes.

“But, the leader sure to forgive my transgressions if I just use a bit of the cash on that Hunter card.” He explains.

“I don’t know what you think the Hunter’s license is, but it certainly isn’t your debit card.” Mary points out.

“Does it really matter what I want to use it for as long as I get one?” he counters.

“You’re right, what I am I complaining about, you can even pawn the thing off for about 100 million Jenny if you want, who am I to judge your wasteful habits?” she concedes.

“I believe you’re already judging me but hey, what’s it matter? I stopped caring what people thought of me a long damn time ago.” He admits.

“Yeah I can see, you have the look of a man who’s long lost his pride.” Mary states.

After ending that wild introduction, Reynauld sits down at the table and lets Mary speaks.
“So I believe you came in here wishing for me to work on your weaponry?” She asks.

He removes the pistol from the holster and spins it twice by the trigger guard, narrowly avoiding shooting himself or someone else in the face, as he puts down the gun.

“By god, everything you do adds to your sheer dumbass factor doesn’t it?” you insult.

“Shut yer mouth Piss-head. Don’t you talk shit about my big iron.” He states.

Etheline and Mary examine the strange pistol, a mix of a classic bull revolver with a modern barrel that almost looks like it would better on a taster gun than a pistol.

“This is…” Mary looks amazed.

“A Voltage C6900. Western model, so cool…” Etheline spews some tech jargon and begins to drool over the strange gun.

“See, your missus knows good ordnance when she sees it. How about you pony up some respect too?” he asks with a smug look on his face.

Instead of responding, you put your hand under the wooden desk, and knock it hard, producing a sound similar to someone pounding on a door.

Reynauld then turns his head to face the door with a horrified look on his face as he goes silent.

You laugh, “Don’t worry man, no one’s at the door for ya…yet.”

“You’re no better than those goddamn bandits…” he grumbles.

“So, Etheline, what’s so special about that gun?” You dismiss his grumbles.

She shakes her head at your petty come-back and picks up the revolver and pulls down the barrel to reveal the cylinder.

you’re surprised as you see the contents of the cylinder doesn’t have 6 bullets, but instead a large, chamber shaped battery with the term 6mV painted on it.

“What the hell? This isn’t a pistol.” You note.

“Do remember the weapon MUMA used when it entered sentinel mode? That was new brand of gun researched and developed in Mimbo, my home country, called Joule guns, which is what this is.” She explains.

“You mean that massive zap rifle Muma carried? The one that nearly blew the train car we were on off its rails? This gun is one of them?” you question.

“Yeah, a much smaller version though. They use large-capacity batteries to fire electric rounds. MUMA used what’s called an electro-cannon, which fires highly concentrated bursts of electro-magnetic force all at once." She clarifies.

"This is just an electric pistol, basically a semi-automatic stun-gun with multiple rounds.” She clarifies.

(Joule guns huh? Interesting concept, maybe I could give my bow some kind of shock effect like Thunderstruck if I used the same tech?) you wonder.

“Hey! Don’t write my Black-eyed Susan off as some stungun. That girl and I have survived many a standoff thanks to her shots being faster than any old brass and my hands being the quickest in the west.” He states.

“Yeah, I can’t even imagine all the muggings you’ve pulled off with this piece.” You joke.

“Do I look like a damn bandit to you? I’d never rob an innocent person of their hard-earned assets.” He states.

“Oh good, at least you’ve got some virtue to ya.” You praise.

“Now them blood-sucking banks, there’s prime real estate. Broke into a few of those when times was getting’ desperate.” He admits.

“…Sorry, at least you’ve got some principles, if you can even call them that.” You correct.

Etheline gets back to her explanation, “Anyway, Each shot saps about 1 million volts from the 6-million-volt battery, giving it 6 shots before needing to be recharged or replaced. From the make of the battery, this is clearly the latest in the Volt C series of pistols. Not bad.” Etheline admires.

“Now that’s what I like to hear. That’s my legendary Blue Lightin, wooing the ladies like the beauty he is.” Reynauld’s ego inflates.

(Can this guy keep a consistent name for one second? And didn’t he say it was a Black-eyed Susie or something a second ago? He’s just coming up with this shit on the fly isn’t he?) you notice.

“Well, it certainly is rare. As far as I know, most C series guns are shaped more like Glock 17’s to accommodate for larger sized batteries. Why is this one shaped like a colt revolver?” Etheline asks.

Reynauld laughs to himself, “Well Missy, I went and custom ordered that beauty to be remade to match my western attire. Can’t have a cowboy with no revolver after all, that’s like a Kukan’yuian with no beans!” he jokes.

“Okay, that’s more than a little racist. Mind rephrasing that?” Mary counters.

“Oh come on, we all those kukes are a bunch of mud-sitting beaners. No offense to them of course, just wish they’d stop hopping the border-“

“Okay, I’m liking you less and less with every word you speak. Can you just say what you’re here for and leave?” Mary suggests.

Reynauld looks confused as to why Mary is offended, but continues anyway, “Right, well, you see, In my orderin’ of Equalizer, I neglected to realize there would be certain…repercussions.” He states vaguely.

“You didn’t realize that ordering a new model would mean changes to the firing capacity. Did you?” Etheline immediately figures out.

“Well, uh…yes.” He admits.

“Wait, so he fucked up his weapon’s design, just to complete his shitty cowboy costume? Yeah, that’s about the kind of retardation I’d expect by this point.” you state.

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“It ain’t a costume! These are real cow leather materials that I stitched together myself after I bought it from a local farm-hand who’s daughter I saved from a pack of wild wolves before I joined the army! Why, I think that was the start of this crazy journey-“

“Oh shut it, you could have robbed some old pioneer’s grave for all we care. No one wants to hear your origin story.” You cut-off.

“Do they call you sheriff buzz-killington back in your town? Because you seem like you would lead the anti-fun police round these parts, blondie.” He counters.

You feel a spike of anger, “I’m no buzz-kill, but I wouldn’t mind being the sheriff if it meant I got to put you to hang.” You threaten.

“Listen, save the fighting for outside the lab, there are too many precious materials in here. Please head to the experiment room just behind me where all the expendable materials are thrown for removal.” She suggests.

“Expendable? Now that just mean missy, you don’t mean that.” He states.

“You’re right, you’re not expendable. They may bill me for the cost of your funerals if you two end killing each other, that money could be going to the good of my research. I ask that you please only brutally maim each other instead.” She states.

“…”Reynauld is left speechless from that comeback.

“The scariest thing is that she’s not even kidding, I’m sure she’s dead serious.” You confirm.

Mary waves her hand to dismiss the issue, “if you two have given up on killing each. I presume you want me to increase the battery volume on your rounds?” Mary summarizes.

“Yeah, I was hopin’ I could keep Ol’Betsy’s shape, but increase her number of shots to at least 9 rounds.” He asks.

“Well, that will involve increasing the size of the battery, which means increasing the size of the revolver, are you okay with that?” She asks.

“Good Ol’ Danny boy can handle a few more pounds, go right ahead.” He hands her the gun and relaxes back in his seat.

“haaaaahhh, I can’t believe I have to waste time on improving someone’s toys in my lab…I can’t stand exam season.” Mary complains.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask, but Isn’t this the workshop? Why do you keep calling it a lab?” you ask.

“Because being a workshop is a secondary function, an add-on Damon told me to connect as my engineering skills are considered top of the line. I’m a 1-star Tech hunter you see. This place is primarily used for my research, which you and everyone else in this room is interrupting.” She explains.

“Well I’m just here to help Etheline here with an experiment. Maybe work on some equipment. That okay?” you ask.

“Go right ahead, as long as you don’t get in the way of my work, then we’ll have no issues.” She answers.

“Great, outta curiosity and a fear for my life, what will you be doing when you finish working on this idiots' gun?” You ask.

“Actually, I’ll also be preparing for an experiment of my own while you two work. Don’t worry, it won’t be life-threatening…for you.” She states.

“That last part worries me. But whatever you say…” you accept.

>What will you do?

>Get to work Etheline’s project

>Work on your own equipment first

>Ask Mary some questions.

>>2972617
>Get to work Etheline’s project

>>2972617
>Get to work Etheline’s project

>>2972621
>>2972632

>Time to help a friend.

>Writing.

“Okay, well, best to get to working on what I came here for. Let’s get on this Etheline, what even is this project?” you ask.

She smiles, “You’re already looking at it Derrick.” She gets off of her stool and presents the skin-tight combat outfit to you.

“This is my newest and possibly best tool, the CAD Suit.” She names.

“CAD suit?” you question.

“Combat. Adaption. Defense. You can just call it CADS for short.” She clarifies.

“It’s a combat armor mixed with a computer with a high-speed learning A.I that can analyze anyone’s fighting style mid-fight, adapt to it and counter it.” Mary explains.

“Damn, that is pretty awesome! So, this is how you plan to counter that combat weakness of yours? Smart! Just what I’d expect from you.” You praise.

“Thank you, thank you!” She eats it up

“By the way, I was the one that developed the learning A.I in that suit, where’s my praise?” she asks.

“Oh really? Cool.” You state.

She shakes her head, “Meaningless praise can only come from a mindless idiot.”

“Come on now, Derrick, I couldn’t have done this without Mary’s help, what she made was far more amazing than what I did! All I did was design and develop the suit the A.I would be placed in.” She compliments.

“At least someone in here knows how to appreciate the work of others.” Mary cracks a small smile.

“Doesn’t take much huh?” you ask.

“Hush, Mr.No Gratitude. Continue describing the functions of my amazing A.I Ms.Etheline.” She states.

“Alright. This suit has two functions: 1.Adapt and counter and 2. Adapt and Master.” She begins.

Before she continues, she grabs her evil-looking helmet and makes it face you, “The CPU for the A.I resides in this helmet, when a person is caught in it’s field of vision, it analyzes their entire body.” She states.

You take a closer look at the spider like mask, “This freaky thing is analyzing me?” you ask.

“Your muscle make-up, bone structure and heart-beat are all being checked and recorded into the A.I’s database as you stare like an idiot into it’s eyes.” Mary explains.

“Do you have to take every chance you’ve got to piss me off?” you ask.

“Yes, but this time has a reason.” She picks up the helmet and hands it to Etheline.

“The more excited you get, the more your body activity picks up and the faster the A.I can learn the inner workings of your body.” She explains.

“Yes, though, even with your heart rate normal and your body unmoving, it only takes the A.I about 10 minutes to comprehend your body structure and create a strategy to counter you with.” Etheline explains.

(10 minutes? That thing can figure all that shit out in 10 minutes? Don’t know whether to call that horrifying or amazing…) you wonder.

Etheline then Dons the helmet, “Then all that information gets passed right along to me when I strap in.” She says in a deep, modulated tone.

“Whoa! Is the dark lord voice also a function?” you ask.

“Well yeah, I mean, my normal voice is kinda…unintimidating, so I needed something that made scarier in combat.” She explains.

“You’ve got a point there, when you made threats in your old voice, only reason anyone would ever piss their pants was from laughing too hard. That will voice will send most grown men running for the hill.” You state.

“Good! I worked really hard on making myself sound scary!” Her cute excitement sounds demented through hazing of the mask.

“Yeah, well pat yourself on the back, it’s working great. But what’s the point of that?” You ask.

“You’re a fighter of some prowess, so surely you know that battle isn’t only physical, but mental too.” Mary states.

“Damn right I do, I'm just not someone who takes advantage of fear or anger to win, hell, I’m usually trying my best not to give in to either of those emotions in a fight.” You explain.

“Yes, well not everyone is as nice and dumb as you are. This suit also has the ability to read someone’s mental state.” She states.

“So you’re telling me this suit can read minds too?” you ask.

“Not exactly, but basically.” Mary concedes.

“By taking in someone’s heart-beat and sweat-levels, the suit can also display what kind of state of mind their in and predict their next action.” She explains.

“My sensors see you’re slightly panicked Derrick.” Etheline states.

“Give me a break, of course I’m a little scared, this beast of a suit sounds unbeatable! Is there anything that thing can’t do?” you ask.

“Yes actually, it can’t fight.” Mary states.

“Wait what?” you ask.

“Yes, now we get to the part that I needed your help for.” Etheline starts.

“You see, this thing doesn’t have any actual means of countering opponents, as it has no fighting styles installed.” She explains.

“What? Are you saying it has all this cool-ass information gathering tech, but no way of capitalizing on it?” you guess.

“Thanks for summing it up Mr. I love spelling out Obvious." Mary states.

"Yes, even with all the incredible abilities the suit grants, it means nothing if the person using it has no actual skill to use it.” Mary states.

“I know you’re just being honest, but saying I have no skill hurts Mary…” Etheline complains.

“The truth hurts Ms.Etheline. No matter how much science strives, we can’t surmount the truth that any tool is only as good as it’s wielder, this one is the same.” Mary states.

“However, that’s what you’re here for, Mr.Useful for once.” Mary says with a devious grin.

“Oh great, I don’t like that look in your eye.” You worry.

“You see, it takes just 10 minutes for CADS to counter any fighter, but it’s second function, Mastery, is much more complex and takes much more time.” Mary states.

“Learning the exact movements of a fighter, coping them and then reforming them not only in a way that Ms.Etheline can use, but also create a fighting style that’s even stronger than the original.” She starts.

“That sounds stupidly strong. But also stupidly unrealistic.” You counter.

“Learning someone’s moves is one thing. But applying them is another, every person is different, individual in their strength, speed and form.” You state.

“A short, lean fighter could never hope to put out as much power as a heavy, tall fighter could. And in turn, the heavy fighter could never hope to be as fast as the lean one." You state.

"Creating a system that steals other people’s fighting moves sounds cool on paper, but pointless in practice.” You counter.

“Exactly right. If you could display this much intelligence all the time, perhaps we can actually get along, Mr.Smarter than he looks.” Mary agrees.

“But that’s the power and the burden of this suit. It is capable of surmounting that physical gap. That’s why it’s called adapt and master, instead of just adapt.” Mary states.

“Sorry, but that sounds like nonsense to me.” You state.

“All science sounds like nonsense to the common man. That’s why we have experiments to prove how sensible our nonsense is.” Mary counters.

“And I’m the guinea pig of this nonsensical experiment? Just perfect.” You groan.

“I’m sorry Derrick. But for this suit to work, I need a good fighting style for the CADS to adapt to, I really need you to help me here.” Etheline pleads.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t groaning cause I didn’t want to help anymore, I was just groaning cause I was wondering how I always get caught up in this shit.” You complain.

“You should be grateful, Mr.Test Subject, You may be helping perfect a turn of the century technology that will revolutionize combat! Isn’t that exciting!” Mary exclaims.

“Something tells me you’re the kinda person who only feels alive when you’re pulling extreme shit like this.” You comment.

“Damn right! Is there some kind of problem with that!?” she asks.

“Whatever keeps you from making fun of me for a few seconds, I’m grateful for.” You state.

“Good, then I ask if you have any questions?” Mary asks.

“Just two.” You state.

“Oh?” Mary acknowledges.

“First, doesn’t me giving you my fighting style put me at a disadvantage?” you ask.

Mary tilts her head, “What do you mean?” she asks.

“If that CADS thing can record and master my moves, doesn’t that give anyone who wears it a massive advantage over me?” you ask.

“Derrick…Do you not trust me with that kind of knowledge?” Etheline asks.

“It’s not that, it’s just that this mad scientist brat has the look of a girl ready to sell this suit by the truckload to anyone who'll buy it.” You point out.

“Well, there would be no point in just developing this masterpiece and not putting it out to the public, so yes.” She admits.

“In that case, I don’t want my fighting skills stamped and packaged to every professional fighter in the world, that would be a little bad for me don’t you think?” you point out.

“You needn’t worry, I would never use the skills of a random applicant like yourself complete this invention. The suit your friend is wearing is the only one in existence and it shall stay that way for the duration of the exam, so don’t worry about such a thing, Mr.Worrywart.” Mary counters.

“That so?” you accept.

“If anything, you should be happy that Ms.Etheline trusts you enough to take your style. That actually gives you an advantage over her.” Mary states.

“An advantage?” you ask.

“If someone with greater fighting skill were to take your style and mix it with their own, it would be dangerous for you, but with Ms.Etheline, who has no skill of her own, takes your style, then you know that the only thing she has.” Mary points out.

"What advantage does that net me?" you ask.

“The fact that she’ll only be using your own fighting style with that suit doesn’t make her stronger than you, it makes her weaker. After-all, it’s your fighting style, so you know all of its weaknesses along with its strengths.” She explains.

“Is that right Etheline?” you ask.

“Yeah, I trust that you won’t use that against me, no, I Know you won’t. So, I’m really glad you agreed to do this. Seriously, thank you.” Etheline states.

This level of gratitude stuns you for a moment, “…Yeah, you’re welcome.”

“So, what’s your other question?” Mary asks.

“The other one was whether Etheline was fine with this or not.” You ask.

“Huh? Of course I am, I was the one that proposed we do this in the first place!” Etheline answers.

“Yeah, I know that, I meant this process.” You clarify.

“From the sounds of it, this test will mainly be me beating you until your suit adapts my fighting style. Are you really cool with that?” you ask.

Etheline puts her hands to her hips, “Is that really what you’re worrying about?” She asks.

“Come on Derrick! I know I may seem soft, squishy and easy to bruise….because I am.” She admits.

“But I’m the tough kind of soft and squishy! The kind that can take any of the abuse you dish out! So, don’t be afraid, let’s give this everything we’ve got!” She declares.

File: Experiment Room(Workshop).jpg (34 KB, 750x404)

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Mary laughs a little, “Her confidence is inspiring, even if it’s blatantly false. Does that suffice as an answer?” Mary asks.

“Yeah, good enough, I guess.” You answer.

“Then I ask you both to head into the experiment room ahead of you, we begin immediately.” She states.

With that order, you and Etheline walk towards the door on the other end of the lab, “Are you really okay though Etheline? You aren’t putting up a brave front here, right?” you ask.

“Your concern is nice, but really, I’ll be alright! Have I ever let you down before?” she asks.

“Well…” You trail off as you head inside the room.

>20 Minutes later

Time: 12:17 PM, Early Afternoon

SMACK

“GAH!” Etheline screams with that ungodly voice as she goes flying across the room after a swift kick to the stomach.

(You’ve let me down before and looks like you’re about to do it again…) You answer yourself.

“Gahhh…errrr…” Etheline groans as she forces herself from the ground.

“You still good Etheline?” you ask, even though you know the answer.

“J-Just…great…” She moans out.

(If she’d just admit how much it hurts, we could stop now.) you think to yourself.

As Etheline struggles to her feet, you examine this void-like white room around you.

It’s a large empty space, one filled with nothing but the light coming from the bulbs above, it’s hard to distinguish one wall from the other in this place, because the whiteness of it all just blends into itself and creates one long, seemingly never-ending space.

it almost feels like another dimension when you stare at it long enough.

“You’re not pitying her, are you? Mr.Overconfident Bastard.” That is, until an apathetic voice blares out of the speakers in the room.

You resist the urge to growl with anger, “Hell no, What do you mean overconfident? I’m just tired of kicking a nice girl to the ground! It’s been 20 minutes she has yet to even hit me!” You state.

You say that, but it’s even worse than that actually, so far, in the 20 minutes you’ve been fighting in here, she has neither forced you to move from your initial starting position nor has she made you use anything other than basic punches or kicks.

It feels like watching a puppy slam it’s head into a brick wall, over and over again, hoping to make a crack, but the only thing it’s cracking is it’s skull.

“I say overconfident because clearly you have either have far too much faith in yourself, or far too little in your friend, Mr.Arrogant Idiot.” She insults.

“The hell does that mean?” you ask.

“Right now, it may seem like she has absolutely no chance to overtake your physical dominance. But the suit is learning, with every direct hit you land, it’s learning more and more the processes needed to complete the action.” She explains.

Etheline finally struggles back to her feet and gets back, retakes her sloppy fighting stance and readies herself to charge at you again.

“Don’t you dare pull your punches, Derrick. I can take it, just a bit more, and you’ll see this was worth it!” Etheline declares.

It hurts to watch her this desperate, but it’s also a little awe-inspiring, so you don’t say a word, you re-take your stance and wait for her approach.

>Roll1d100+5(+5 from trained combat bonus)

>No Dc, the higher, the better for both you.

Rolled 21 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2972837

Rolled 90 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>2972837

File: [Futile].png (262 KB, 872x513)

262 KB PNG

>>2972843
>>2972847

>30 minutes pass

>No 3rd roll

Guess this is my fault for dumping all that text.

No matter, you technically can't fail this roll anyway, so'll just take these and move on.

>Rolled 95

>Modified Crit

>Writing.

She takes off with a dash and charges at you with her fist cocked back, surprisingly fast on her feet, but terrible in her balance.

You lower yourself slightly to match her height as she swings wide at you, a strike you easily block as you low kick her ankle and follow up by kicking her open side, sending her crashing to the ground.

She rolls to her feet mid-fall and rushes at you with a flurry of punches aimed at your mid-section, you deflect each one until she begins to look fatigued, then you grab one of her fists by the wrist, drag her in and gut-punch her.

"PAH!" She gasps, barely holding back her rushing up on her as she falls to her knees.

"You're way too open. You're telegraphing your attacks, Your balance is terrible and you use way too much stamina." you scold.

"All those punches you threw were just a waste of energy, the only time you flurry is when your opponents guard is down or you want to bait out an attack for counter. Otherwise, only strike when you're sure you're gonna hit." you inform.

"If you're rushing, you need to-"

"Be quiet Mr.Know-it-all." Mary interrupts again.

"Damn it! Aren't you supposed to be fixing that Redneck Hobo's gun right now!? Why are you wasting time messing with me!?" you shout.

"You act like I can't make fun of you and fix this idiots weapon at the same-time, Multitasking is a beautiful thing, Mr.Violent Bully." She states.

"I'm only bullying her because you won't let me teach her what's she doing wrong! This isn't getting us anywhere!" you complain.

"This experiment requires the CAD suit to learn, not Ms.Etheline. When you give her lessons like that, you're making it hard to tell which one is actually learning anything." She explains.

"So, be quiet, and have faith in your friend's ability to endure, this is for her sake." Mary states.

Etheline regains her footing and takes her fighting stance once again.

"Damn it..." and so you continue.

>20 minutes later.

After 40 minutes straight of watching Etheline grovel pathetically on the ground, you finally see a change.

As she rushes in this time, her guard is properly up, she takes up a boxer's guard, the same as yours.

Not only that, but her punches are getting straighter and harder to predict, there's even once or twice you feel like she might hit you if you aren't careful.

But most noticeable, is the fact that she isn't falling for the same trick twice anymore.

This time when you go for a low ankle kick, she shifts her foot just out of the way and fires a fist at your stomach.

You push that fist down and counter with an elbow strike.

"OW!!" She screams as she staggers back.

"..." You're stunned silent as you recognize that this is the first time she's forced you to use something other than a punch or a kick.

You can hear Mary giggle under her breath from behind the speakers, "I see it's already begun, are you feeling a little shaken up? Mr. Doe-eyed fool?" She asks.

File: Etheline Brooks34.jpg (168 KB, 1047x1094)

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Etheline readies herself again, this time taking half-as long to recover from her stunned state.

You grin, "Hell no, actually, I'm finally feeling like this isn't a waste of time." You state.

"Oh? Finally beginning to see the beauty of scientific advancement?" She asks.

"You can call it that. Hey Etheline! You feeling okay?" you ask, this time for actually curious about her condition.

"Yeah. I'm feeling great actually!" She answers without a single stutter.

You then begin your exchange again.

>1 hour later

https://youtu.be/XjLNSHh0vnU

After 1 hour 40 minutes pass, the difference in skill is staggering.

As she rushes at your again, you can see her entire posture has changed.

She moves in with a high kick and pulls away just before you can grab it, with your guard left high, she moves to punch your gut. You bring your knee up to block.

But that's when something unexpected happens, she pulls her punch just before you catch it, she then kicks the ankle of your other foot, putting you off balance.

"Wha-" you gasp out as she delivers a powerful kick to your side, sending you staggering away.

"Got you! Wait, did I just...land a solid hit?" Etheline asks herself in astonishment of her own feat.

"Yeah... it hurt like a bitch too." you state in amazed tone.

"I did it! I did it! The CAD suit really works!" Etheline jumps around in satisfaction.

"It took precisely 1 hour 44 minutes before the suit finally crossed the physical gap and adapted." Mary appraises.

"A little slow for real combat, but inhumanly fast for training. That's a month worth of pratice shorted to just an hour or 2. I'd call that a success. Good work." Mary praises.

"What!? Has been an hour already! I barely even noticed the time passing!" Etheline cries out.

"When you're really focused on something, time tends to fly by before your eyes." you comment.

"Great work Etheline, I'm glad to see you lasted this long." you praise.

"Thanks, but I'm even more thankful that you didn't pull any of your punches and kept working with me till the end." She thanks.

She removes her helmet and address in her normal cutesy voice, expect this time, it's filled to the brim with gratitude, "Seriously Derrick, thank you so much for helping me."

>Etheline's overwhelming gratitude shakes your very soul! (+100 points to Etheline)

>Your relationship with Etheline goes to the next level! (Rank 3/5: Great friends) ((+500 until the next level))

"Ms.Etheline, what are you doing?" Mary asks.

"What? I'm just thanking Derrick for helping out." She answers.

"Not that, you can flirt with violent neanderthal all you wish, I mean why have you taken the helmet off?" She asks.

"Flirt!? You've got it wrong! I wasn't- /Neaderthal!? You better take those words back before I shove them back down your throa-" The both of you react.

Mary shuts you both down by putting her speakers on blast,

"YOU MAY HAVE BROKEN THROUGH HIS GUARD AND LANDED A HIT. BUT THAT WAS ONLY ONCE YOU CAN'T SERIOUSLY EXPECT THAT TO BE ENOUGH DATA CORRECT!?" She blares.

"Oh god my ears!? Do you want to turn my eardrums to jelly you stubby bitch!" You counter.

"INSULT THE PROCESS, NOT THE PERSON MR. AD-HOMINEM!" Mary counters.

"Okay, okay we get it! Just please turn off the loudspeaker, my brain's going to come bursting out of my head at this rate!" Etheline pleads.

"I'm glad I could get my point across." Mary thanks.

"I'll get you for this one day brat..." you grumble.

"WHAT WAS THAT!?" She turns back on the speakers in response to your grumbles.


"Nothing, nothing! I'm just wondering how long I have to keep fighting like this!?" you ask.

"Oh good questions. let's see..." She ponders for a moment, "Well, I guess two more hours will get me the numbers I need and really work my A.I out, so get to it." She concludes.

"2 hours!?" you shout out.

"What? Do you have a problem helping a friend out for 2 more hours?" she asks.

"Well, no, but you mean I have to keep fighting like this for 2 hours? She's getting better than me by the minute! And her strikes really hurt!" You state.

"The complaints of bully finally getting a taste of his own medicine. Now that your target's finally fighting back, now you want to back out? I expected more from you, Mr.Lowly coward." she insults.

"How about you come out and say that to me face brat! Oh wait, I know, it's cause you'd need a high stool for that!" you counter.

"Just be quiet and get back to work, I'm not going to let you out of that room until you finish up anyway. So why complain?" she asks.

"Oh there's tons of reasons to complain! And I'm gonna share all of them with you when I bust out this place and stuff your research papers down your baby throat!" you threaten.

"Oh really? Cool." She disregards you.

"There are no words I have to describe my hate for you. This has to be the most I've ever wanted to choke a child in my life..." you complain.

"You do that. I have to deliver this new revolver to that Barnyard Backwash outside, I expect good results on my return." She then switches off her mic and leaves.

"I can't believe she was serious..." you state.

"Sorry about that Derrick. Mary can be...extreme with her passion for science. We better just do as she says if we want to get out." She reasons.

"Easier said than done, how can you hit so hard?" you ask.

"Well, I've spent most my life making and fixing heavy equipment with a hammer in hand, so I've got a good grip and arm strength." She explains.

"So I have to be the nail to your hammer arms? For 2 hours? This is gonna suck..." you state.

Etheline looks concerned, "I'm really sorry. Should I just practice on my own and let you wait out the 2 hours? The data will look a little weird, but I should be able to slip past Mary with that." She offers.

>What will you do?

>Take her offer.

>Help her practice.

>>2973212
>Help her practice.
Might as well. Don't get too beat up though, we've got other stuff to do today

>Help her practice.

>>2973215
>>2973229

>Be a man and take your licks

>Writing.

Brave choice, but if you had chosen to take her offer, you would gotten a good boost in evasion. Ironically.

>>2973212
>Let’s practice an hour st least. We can see where to go from there.

File: Mary Divana07.jpg (89 KB, 894x894)

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You sigh, "Nah, that will just get you screwed over in the long-run. Let's keep going. I'm not so soft that I can't take a few hits." you state as you take a battle stance.

"Really? You're sure you don't want me to pull my punches a little?" she asks.

"I didn't pull my punches when I was battering you around. Let this be your payback." you state.

Etheline takes up her own fighting stance as she puts back on her helmet.

"Being honest, I was a little frustrated with how much you were knocking me around. So yeah, let's clear the air." She sounds like she's ready to kill you in that voice.

You grin in spite of your fear, (I never thought I'd see the day where Etheline scares the shit out of me. But then anything can happen in this world, so that's my fault for not seeing this coming...) you state.

"Let's give it everything we've got!" Etheline exclaims as she dashes forward.

You ready yourself, (Oh this is going to be one long 2 hours...)

>Etheline puts you through one of the most brutal beatings of your life. However, in standing your ground against the 2 hour-long assault, you can feel your body getting that much tougher!

>+5 boost to defense!

>2 hours later.

Time: 3:36 PM, Mid-Afternoon.

As the Experiment room door opens, you barely manage to stagger out the room on two feet.

Mary stands with 2 cups of coffee outside alongside Reynauld as they watch you stumble your way into the room.

"What in Tarnation happened to you? Did you get caught up in a wild bull stampede or somthin'?" Reynauld asks.

"...Something like that." you laugh, but the bruises on your chest make it feel like a painful task.

Etheline follows you out the room, "I got a little excited half-way through..." She laughs.

"I'll say..." you say gripping at your stomach to keep yourself from letting out your breakfast.

Etheline bows her head in apology, "I'm so so sorry Derrick. I got way too into at the end there, I didn't expect to kick you so hard you'd lose a tooth-"

"Just, don't talk about, alright?" you ask.

Mary giggles, "Looks like you were diligent and helped Ms.Etheline until the end." She praises.

"You may be a violent, loudmouth, half-evolved monkey, but you have the heart larger than any good man. If you learned anything here, let that be it." She compliments as she walks up and hands you a cup of black coffee.

You reluctantly take it, "...If I had the strength, I'd throw this back in your face...consider yourself lucky brat..." you moan as you throw the drink back.

"Oh don't be so melodramatic, Mr.Drama Queen. Your wounds are surface level at best, you'll practically be healed in a few hours." she promises.

"And all the pain? When will that go?" you ask.

"Well...you're tough, you can handle it." she compliments.

"Whether you're making fun of me, or encourage me, you never fail to piss me off." You say as you down the cup of coffee.

Is that anon ever gonna use his favor for solving the riddle?

File: Mary Divana09.png (1012 KB, 1600x2240)

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"You're telling me partner. That woman's got a tongue that could make the hardest man melt. Give her a whip and I'd call her a slave-driver." Reynauld laughs.

"Keep your blatant slander to yourself, I'm as much a slave driver as Mr.Half-broken over there is a good workhorse, and I think the answer to that is plain to see." Mary counters.

"Hey now, you must really-"

"You really need to stop making fun of Derrick! He's doing his best to help, he doesn't deserve all these attacks!" But Etheline cuts-in for you.

"..." The two are left silent at Etheline aggressive response.

"Why can't you just give him a legitimate compliment!?" she asks.

"W-What are you talking about, Ms.Etheline? Of course I can compliment that half-witted jump-start. I just said told him how kind he was-"

"A compliment prefaced with an insulting nickname isn't a compliment! Give him a real one, one without all the sarcasm or backhanded, negative implications!" She demands.

"What's gotten into the little missus? She's gotten a little...strong-willed." Reynauld comments.

"Exactly, why are you so worked up over me insulting Mr.High-strung idiot?" she asks.

"Because I'm tired of no being able to talk to each without having to be coy or mask their thoughts with mean insults! If you want to say thanks, just say it without screwing it up by covering it with all this..all this.." She gathers up her courage to say the word.

"Crap!" She finishes.

Despite the weak-finish, the fact that she still ranted like that leaves Mary completely stunned.

"...What she said." You tack on.

"Um...wait, I did just..." Etheline can't believe herself.

"You stood up for me Etheline. That's what you
did, thanks." you state.

"I only did it cause you worked so hard to endure my beating...consider it payback, Derrick." Etheline smiles.

>Etheline's admiration of you grows by the minute! +50 points!

>(450 points to go!)

It takes a moment, but Mary coughs and regains the ability to speak, "I see donning that suit has increased more than your combat abilities. An unintended side-effect, but not necessarily a bad one." Mary states.

"So, when are you going to give me a proper compliment?" you ask.

Mary looks bit mad, but she complies, "I thank you very much for your service. I hope I can work with you again, Mr. Subservient Doorst-"

"Hey! None of that!" Etheline interrupts before she can complete her insult.

"Er, sorry, force of habit." Mary apologizes.

"I mean, Mr. Derrick Holums. Thank you very much." She states,

You smile, "See? We can get along after-all brat! I'm glad to be of help." you state.

"You need to start dropping the insulting nicknames too, but I guess we can work on that as we go." Etheline states.

"...I can't be the only man who found that outburst a little hot?" Reynauld states.

"Why are you even still here? I gave you your weapon hours ago." Mary states.

File: Etheline Brooks02.jpg (71 KB, 480x679)

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"That's exactly right little miss. With my new and improved Breakin Dawn I should be on way. I hear the horizon calling..." Reynauld states.

"Is it asking for it's money back? Cause I would after hearing a cliche line like that." you state.

"As much of a grating, ornery asshole as you are Piss-head, I do hope I see ya later in this exam. Tough guys are a dime a dozen, but men who can really take a beating are real diamonds in the rough." He compliments.

He walks up to the door and speaks, "I hope you and me can share a drink and tell some of our tales on the borderland after this is all over. You and your girlyfriend there." Reynauld states.

"Girlfriend!? No, no, no, no, we're not a thing! I haven't worked nearly hard to get to that point yet- Wait, I mean, You're wrong! Completely wrong!" Etheline panics.

"Be careful there, partner, you're going to give her heart attack if you say stuff like that. and I guess, if you do somehow make, we can have some fun together. There's a party at my bar for all survivors after this is over." You state.

"Now that's what I like to hear! If we're heading to a good saloon, then bring an entire gang and let's party till sun-rise! See ya, crazy cowboy!" Reynauld laughs as he heads out the door.

"Man, someone needs to restrain that idiot. I don't care if it's a lasso or a noose, someone just need to put a muzzle on that dog." Mary states.

"Mary..." Etheline groans.

"Yes, yes I know, stop with the insults. I've got it." She complains.

"Is it really that hard for not to make fun of someone?" you ask.

"Look, can you just hand me back the suit so I can record the A.I's findings and you two can be on your way. It's 20 minutes to 4 and I have to begin my own experiment." Mary states.

"Wait, it's 20 minutes to 4!?" you shout out, "I'm gonna be late for my meet-up! I've gotta get out here!" you state.

"Oh good, I was worried I'd have to waste time kicking you out. Please get out." Mary asks.

"Don't have to tell me twice! I'm gone! See ya Etheline!" you state as you take off for the door.

"Wait Derrick!" Etheline states.

"What is it? I'm kinda in a rush here." you ask.

"Do you mind letting me take your measurements?" she asks.

"What?" you blurt.

"I know that sounds weird, but I need your height and size to make some armor for you." She explains.

"Armor?" you question.

"Well, you've been basically naked in every battle you've been in, so I imagine you'd want something to make for all the damage you take daily." Etheline states.

"Well, yeah..." you agree.

(Whoa, I never even stopped to see how under-equipped I am. I really do need something to deflect even some of the death I dodge daily.) you think.

"So if you could stick around for a few more minutes, I'd like to check your body." she asks.

"Well..." you wonder.

>What will you say?

>Sure, I've got a few minutes to spare.

>Nah! I'm good, got to go!