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Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Paranormal%20Agent%20Quest
First thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2907129/

>>3149140
>In the middle of the tower--Options are always nice to have, even if you need to rush up or down a few flights of stairs to get to whichever part you need to.

>>3149140
The middle of the tower was an easy decision for you. You were close enough to Zafi and her staggering repertoire of spells and charms and curses that, if anything bad did happen, you’d be able to benefit from her experience at the very least. Alternatively, if things really soured, well, the exit was only a hurried descent away.

The rest of your team was split. Naru and Diedrich sat at the bottom, whilst Iszolda watched over Zafi by the top, near the rift. You can’t see any of the others through the heavy, clanking inner workings of the old clock tower, which unnerves you a little as you ponder over what Zafi told you earlier. If she’s correct, the beast that’s been terrorising Nice is going to come right to you.

Joy.

You look up towards Arnold, who drums his fingers on the trigger guard and under the twin barrels of the simplistic sawn-off shotgun he totes. Whether it’s a nervous tic or simply something he does when he’s bored you don’t know. You’re almost tempted to ask before deciding that the question in itself is a pointless one. Some habits, you know, most people aren’t aware they even have. You’re sure it’s the same for you as well.

>Ask Arnold or any of the others if they have any kind of knowledge regarding how to go about fighting demons.
>Pass the time with some more small talk with Arnold.
>Awkward silence it is.

>>3149327
>Ask Arnold or any of the others if they have any kind of knowledge regarding how to go about fighting demons.

>>3149327
>Pass the time with some more small talk with Arnold.

>>3149327
>>Ask Arnold or any of the others if they have any kind of knowledge regarding how to go about fighting demons.

So what is the year right now, specifically?

>>3149327
>Ask Arnold or any of the others if they have any kind of knowledge regarding how to go about fighting demons.
>>3149717
I don’t believe it been explicitly stated, but I’d reckon it’s 42-43

>>3149327
>>>Ask Arnold or any of the others if they have any kind of knowledge regarding how to go about fighting demons.

>>3149327
>Ask Arnold or any of the others if they have any kind of knowledge regarding how to go about fighting demons.

>>3149852
>>3149717
If that's the case, then we certainly have a decent time span for events and weapons at our disposal.

We should bring along an FG-42 if we ever get send to a place with lots of German ammunition.

>>3149852
We're in early 42. Also, writing now.

>>3149327
You look up at the big man, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut. He notices and gives you his full attention.

“Somethin’ up?” he asks.

“I don’t suppose you have any knowledge about how to fight demons?”

His face scrunches up, deep in thought. A moment passes and he shrugs his head, “Shoot ‘em until they drop dead?”

The look you fix him with is your only response to that nugget of information. Arnold shrugs, “No one I know’s ever met ‘em. Yer really think that I’d know anythin’ about fightin’ these things?”

Fair, you suppose.

Any advice for when the great, snarling beast arrives? you send to everyone else.

Stay on the move? Comes Naru’s response.

No, I’ve heard their vision is based on movement, comes Iszolda’s own conflicting suggestion.

It’s not, Zafi interjects, Don’t stay still for too long; the Imp will be quick and it is strong. Loud noises enrage them; gunfire will draw its ire but it may be possible to confuse it with quick, alternating shots. Now please do not disturb me again, this is rather a difficult task I am undertaking.

That’s better. Not encouraging, but better. You glance down at the carbine in your hands. You’ve already forgotten its name, but you do remember that it’s supposed to be damn near silent, meaning when the shooting starts, the Imp is probably less likely to target you. Maybe you made the right call after all.

You acquiesce to Zafi’s request to stop bothering her, and turn your focus back to… well, sitting around doing not a lot of anything until the Imp arrives. A thought occurs to you and you turn your attention back up to Arnold.

“Say, you’ve got some precog magic, right?”

“Yeah,” he confirms with a nod.

“I don’t suppose you can whip some of that up to let us know if or when the Imp decides to show its face?”

A shake of his head dashes this slim hope of yours, “I said, boss,” he tells you, “It’s concentrated in me eyes--only works on what I can see, an’ I can only tell what goes on a few seconds ahead. Tried goin’ further than that once,” he grimaces, “Thought I’d go blind from it.”

(Cont.)

>>3150713
Your mood sours, but you elect not to take it out on Arnold. Instead, you mull on how you can prepare. The obvious suggestion is posting a lookout at the very top of the tower. Of course, just the one set of eyes may not catch it, especially if it nips through the winding twists and turns of Nice at street level.

Alternatively, you could put up some illusory sentries for some semblance of an early warning, but their appearance may raise questions from an actual occupation patrol, should one happen across the clock tower on its way to the miniature warzone occuring about a half-mile from your location. The final option you can think of would be for someone to put up some kind of barrier. This would pinpoint exactly when and where a breach occurs, but you’d need to actually leave the confines of the tower in order to set it up. It would also be immediately obvious to any mages within Nice, and even those distinctly unattuned to the winds of magic nearby would be able to tell that something isn’t quite right if they step through it.

>Assign a lookout at the very top of the tower to watch for the Imp.
>Go with what you know and make some fake sentries to hopefully draw the demon’s ire and give you some warning.
>Put a small barrier up around the clock tower.

>>3150717
>Assign a lookout at the very top of the tower to watch for the Imp.
Don't really want to risk drawing any more attention towards than necessary.

>>3150717
>Assign a lookout at the very top of the tower to watch for the Imp.

>>3150717
>>Go with what you know and make some fake sentries to hopefully draw the demon’s ire and give you some warning.

>>3150717
>Assign a lookout at the very top of the tower to watch for the Imp.

Calling the vote and writing.

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85 KB JPG

>>3150717
You swiftly decide that having someone actually at the top of the tower looking out would feel a little more reassuring than having a barrier up that may not even register the imp’s passing through it, or potentially drawing unwanted attention your way through a set of false sentries. Tucked away as you are close to the shoreline, you don’t especially feel like pressing your luck.

“Arnold, you mind taking yourself up to the top of the tower and using those special eyes of yours to keep an eye out for this thing?”

The big guy regards you for a brief moment before shrugging, “I s’pose I can do. Y’sure yer want me up there, though?”

“Not really,” you admit, “but your precog will go some way towards giving us all as much warning as we’ll hopefully need.”

He shrugs again, “As you say, boss. Ain’t like our lives could be ridin’ on this or anything.”

“No, our lives are riding on Zafi doing her thing as quick as she can and coming down to help us out before a monster none of us have ever so much as seen before shows up to start chowing down on our guts.”

Arnold gives you a dim look, “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a bit of a sour cunt at times?”

You shake your head, “No, usually they’re too busy calling me a cheating asshole.”

Your companion chuckles, turning to make his way up to the top. As soon as he’s gone, though, you feel the reassurance of another individual’s presence immediately. Part of it’s because there’s now no one to put between you and any mortal peril that comes screaming through the wall, but also partly because a part of you actually likes the hulking goon. So far, he’s easily the one person in this strange organisation that you know most about, save perhaps the ever-chatty Des Fox.

Maybe you should see if there’s a bar in the Antarctic base that you missed. Might make for a more relaxed environment to talk to folks in.

That is, of course, provided you make it out of France alive.

>1d100 Higher is better.

Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>3151367

Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>3151367

Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>3151367

Rolled 1 (1d3)

Writing now.

>>3151367
Willing yourself to be calm and relaxed about the possibility of your own impending death is no easy thing. A week ago, the worst you had to fear was that someone might try to beat you up for the contents of your wallet in a back alley. Now, things are actively attempting to kill you. It’s a less than stellar feeling.

Still, through the help of a few breathing exercises (taught to you by your father, as all the best things you learned were), you find yourself in a better state of mind when Arnold tells you that he’s spotted something making all kinds of speed towards you--too quick for any person, no matter how gifted in the arcane. Curiously, you note that you can still hear the odd pop-pop-crack of distant gunfire.

Where from? Where does it look like it’s going to try to break in? How long until it’s on us?

Northwards; it’s goin’ low; an’ a few seconds. You lot might want to get up off yer arses an’ look busy. This thing looks angry.

From all you’ve heard, that’s probably their default mood, and you hear Naru cursing violently below, along with the racking of firearms. The fact it’s breaking in at the bottom means it’s not going to see you first--always a good thing--and it’s going up against the two members of your team with proper military training, and despite maybe not getting off to the best of starts with either of them, you hope it’s enough.

A few seconds doesn’t sound like a lot of time to get any proper defence set up, but it’s at least enough to make a call.

>Zafi is still sealing the rift.
>Iszolda, the ice mage, is keeping watch over Zafi. She would take a fair bit of time to get to the bottom.
>Arnold, possessed of precognition, is making his way downstairs from the top of the clock tower. He will take some time to get to the bottom.
>Naru, a curse-user, and Diedrich, utterly powerless, are digging in as best they can at the bottom. The Imp will hit them first.
>You, an illusionist with a little fire magic, are in between everyone else. You will take a little time to get to the bottom.
>The Imp will unquestionably make short work of the door. It is agile and bloodthirsty with a penchant for hopping around.

>Plan?

>>3152874
Fuck, forgot to add

>Imp is also enraged by loud noises.

>>3152874
I'm thinking we can quickly conjure up a few illusions to slow it down once it gets inside, maybe. A few extra, fake shooters to get its attention?

Aside from that, hightailing it all the way to the bottom. Iszolda can probably(?) stay up top to keep watch while us and Arnold get down there and get to work on the imp. If we can get it into a position where it's stuck out in the open between everyone, potentially we could give it a hard time by alternating attacks from person to person.

>>3152874
Illusory shooters, and make sure we've god the trackers loaded. We're silenced, and might get the opportunity to make more than one attempt.
>>3152887
Arnold's up top.

>>3152874
Can we use our illusions to dampen sounds? Maybe by producing sound in an antiphase? If so, we could create illusory shooters to distract the imp while dampening the real shots.

>>3152912
I've not had too many opportunities to emphasise it just yet, but Adam is an extraordinarily talented illusionist. Yes, he can manipulate sound.

I'll leave the vote going overnight, just in case anyone else wants to pitch in with a suggestion, but mostly because I had a pretty shite evening at work and I'm exhausted. As soon as I'm up and about tomorrow morning I'll get cracking.

>>3152894
Oh right, well, I'm thinking fingers crossed that Arnold is fast enough. I get the feeling a shotgun would be pretty useful against the imp.

Wrrrriting.

>>3152874
You start rushing down the stairs, heart starting to hammer in your chest at the prospect of real, bloody combat once again. You can already feel sweat starting to trickle down from your forehead. Even as the fear starts to resurge and the adrenaline begins to pump, you already formulate a plan. It’s basic, and will rely purely on how aggressive the Imp feels it is, but hopefully it will help keep everyone alive.

Naru, Diedrich, you send to the two below, Don’t act spooked and spread yourselves out. I’m going to give you some backup.

Backup?

You don’t respond immediately. A moment’s thought, concentration, power is all you need and suddenly a dozen extra bodies flare into existence in various places at the bottom of the tower, all armed and pointing squarely at the door.

Well, gee, thanks boss. I don’t suppose you’ve got any bullets to go along with the fancy tricks? Naru snarks.

They’re not supposed to fight, genius, you shoot back at her. Just make sure you and Dee keep them in between you and the Imp.

Pretty sure even an Imp isn’t dumb enough not to notice that a bunch of guys aren’t doing anything to it.

Oh, you don’t need to worry about that, you say, feeling a sly grin split your face almost in spite of everything else.

Gunfire was not a sound you’d ever tried to simulate before now. You were just never familiar enough with the din of it back home. There was the odd pop or crack of it you’d hear in the far distance now and then, but the areas you tended to haunt were--while not what any well-to-do individual would call safe--generally free of any gun crime. This has, of course, changed significantly since you got drafted.

While manipulating the sense of touch is something widely regarded as impossible--even by you--sound is another matter entirely. It’s tough, no doubt, and requires more intense focus. You only cracked it through a heady cocktail of panic and desperation all those years back when a half-dead Lycan hounded you through a forest on a dry summer night. In that same night, you also managed scent, which is a whole other set of headaches.

Point is: you are very good at what you do.

(Cont.)

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>>3154971
So when the first heart-stopping shriek of the otherworldly shrills through the clock tower and its occupants, it’s with a manic grimace and a healthy dose of dread that you enact what you’d like to call the Bauer Hour. The old wooden door to the tower disintegrates in a shower of splintering fragments as you reach the bottom. Naru and Diedrich fling themselves down to protect themselves from as much of the improvised shrapnel as they can. In the heat of the moment, time seems to slow to a crawl. The hunched figure, crouching on all fours like a simian, gives an impression of being vaguely humanoid, possessed of four limbs, a head and a torso. All similarities end with the wicked curve of four clawed fingers, a curious pair of bony protrusions you can only think of as crests jutting from its shoulder blades and a head shaped like an upside-down egg, in which sits a hollow nose cavity in parody of a man’s, a snarling mouth of needle-thin teeth and two blazing amber eyes that glow with all the dreadful promise of the smouldering hellscape that spawned it.

Naru and Diedrich still lie sprawled on the ground before the Imp, and you feel a cold certainty settle upon you that, had you not acted as you did, both would almost certainly be dead. You feel a smug urge to inform them of this when your business here is finally concluded.

Provided, of course, that you don’t end up on the chopping block.

A muted command and the apparitions open fire. The din of gunfire is almost deafening in the confined space of the clock tower and you wince as pain lances through your ears. The Imp shrieks in fury and leaps towards one of your fake soldiers, claw already poised to tear through his throat. The act takes all of a second, and the beast simply slides through the body, which vanishes without ceremony. The beast has a moment of confusion before its fury goads it onto the next victim, and already you see Naru hauling Diedrich to his feet and scrabbling away from the furious creature, which has already carved through another of your false gunmen.

>The Imp’s cutting through your illusory shooters too quickly. You need to focus on making more--Naru and Diedrich can start filling the beast with lead.
>Take a shot for yourself at the Imp--time to see if these Tracker rounds are all they’re said to be (TN60+)
>Take aim but hold your fire for the moment and wait for an opportunity.

>>3154972
>Take a shot for yourself at the Imp--time to see if these Tracker rounds are all they’re said to be (TN60+)

>>3154972
>The Imp’s cutting through your illusory shooters too quickly. You need to focus on making more--Naru and Diedrich can start filling the beast with lead.
Make sure we silence their shots, we're more useful supporting instead of being one extra gun.

>>3154972
>>>The Imp’s cutting through your illusory shooters too quickly. You need to focus on making more--Naru and Diedrich can start filling the beast with lead.

>>3155252
Can our illusion magic do that? I forget from the last journey.

>>3155291
Quoting OP:
>I've not had too many opportunities to emphasise it just yet, but Adam is an extraordinarily talented illusionist. Yes, he can manipulate sound.

>>3155313
Well, I was thinking the other way around that being able to create fake noises didn't include being able to hide real ones (outside of making louder fake noises to mask them)

>>3154972
>>Take aim but hold your fire for the moment and wait for an opportunity.

Commencing writing.

Rolled 36, 47 = 83 (2d100)

>>3154972
You consider taking aim at the Imp, hesitating only when it lances through another two of your creations. The Imp roars in what you imagine is rage at the distinct lack of carnage it seems to be inflicting. Its head then swings and and creature’s baleful gaze rests on the retreating forms of Naru and Diedrich--both now on their feet and staggering away to get some distance before opening fire with their own guns. Once again, the rattle of gunfire distracts it from the only actual threat and it shrieks towards another shooter. You wince as it hits the wall opposite like some kind of rocket, hairline cracks spreading from the impact.

Christ almighty, you can only imagine the carnage if these were all real people.

You decide then that you’re much more use just pumping out more spectral bodies for the Imp to focus on rather than joining in on the fun. With some relief, you step back and focus your energies on doing just that and in the next heartbeat a fresh wave of gunmen rush down the stairs, spreading out as they reach the ground so as to prove more tempting targets than either of your two teammates, who regard your illusioncraft first with wariness and then wholly unconcealed relief.

Take turns alternating shots at it, you suggest to the pair of them, even as you hear Arnold’s heavy, thumping footsteps above you. The big man’s getting close and you imagine his shotgun--loaded with Vorpal shells if you recall correctly--will go some way towards putting the thing down for good. Don’t draw its attention. Take a shot, and let the other guys take any attacks for you.

I’m all right with that, Naru replies smoothly, bringing her own carbine up to her shoulder and immediately loosing off a few shots. Either she’s nervous as all get out or she’s just an awful shot, as both rounds go wide. Cursing, she relocates as the Imp immediately rounds on the sound of bullets ripping through the air and thudding into the wall. Fortunately, its focus is diverted by another hellish burst of utterly harmless fire from another of your illusions. The object of its attention is dispatched in worryingly short order, but you’d rather that than have it be Naru or Diedrich, who mutters in German with an increasingly panicked look on his face as he takes aim at the Imp--and misses, paling as the beast centres its gaze on him.

As before, though, a little willpower and a little more magic give the Imp a more choice morsel as you get one of your goons to actually rush the creature. As expected, it vanishes into thin air, the Imp slashing out with contemptuous ease at the base of the neck, but it serves its purpose, allowing Diedrich a moment to get his terrified ass out of the demon’s line of sight.

So far, so shit, but at least no one’s died.

And then a wrench is thrown into your plans.

We have a problem, says Zafi.

Bigger than a demon trying to tear its way through the bottom of the clock tower?

(Cont.)

>>3158041
Unfortunately.

You groan, What is it?

The good news first, is that I am almost done here. The bad news is that there is another demon seeking to step through it. Likely another Imp.

Oh, fuck off!

Can you stop it? you ask her, trying and failing to keep your rising panic from showing.

I’d need to stop my sealing of the rift and start over again, she informs you. Great.

Racking your brain in desperation, a potential solution comes to mind, Iszolda, you bring the Russian mage into the conversation, Zafi says that there’s another Imp on the way. Can you--

She has already informed me, the woman says, I will keep the creature at bay.

That sounds like an awfully risky proposition, especially seeing as you’ve not so much as an inkling as to how powerful an ice mage she is. As if sensing your concerns, she speaks again, Whatever comes through the rift is restricted to that one point. I will freeze it and continue to keep it frozen long enough for the rift to be closed so that it may be dispatched.

It sounds like a worthy plan but even so…

Goddamnit.

>No. It’s too risky, her being on her own. Send Arnold back upstairs.
>Not a chance you’re willing to take. You’ll go upstairs and help out.
>Fine. Godspeed you crazy Russian bitch.

>>3158043
>Fine. Godspeed you crazy Russian bitch.

>>3158043
>Fine. Godspeed you crazy Russian bitch.

>>3158043
>Fine. Godspeed you crazy Russian bitch

>>3154972
>Take a shot for yourself at the Imp--time to see if these Tracker rounds are all they’re said to be (TN60+)

>>3158043
>Fine. Godspeed you crazy Russian bitch.
>>3158843
I forgot to update.

>>3158043
>>Fine. Godspeed you crazy Russian bitch.

Sorry for the delay. Illness ain't no fun.

Writan.

>>3158043
You aren’t comfortable with the idea of leaving the two women to face a demon down alone, especially when the one with unquestionably the most experience in handling such beasts is so tied up she can’t offer any assistance herself. Unfortunately, you’re also not comfortable leaving Naru and Diedrich to face their own Imp without backup, and Iszolda sounds confident enough that she can handle things…

Godspeed, you crazy Russian bitch.

I do not think I like being called that.

You can moan to me about it all you like if we’re all still alive five minutes from now.

I do not plan to be dying today. I am also curious to hear this story of yours.

Just… stay alive.

A quick rattle of Russian is her only response to that. You’d almost swear you heard a tinge of humour in it, too. You really don’t know what entirely you make of the woman. Creepy as you find her, you feel pretty sure that you’d feel all kinds of crummy if she were to die here.

So, you guess the easiest way to go about preventing this from happening is to mop up down here as quickly as you can. Which would be fine and all if the Imp would just agree to lie down and die already.

Hopefully a process that can now be expedited as Arnold steps past you. He regards you, crouched down by the staircase, first with puzzlement, and then in understanding as he peers down and sees a lot more bodies downstairs than you arrived here with.

“Time your shots so that you and the other two alternate,” you tell him, “I’m keeping the thing occupied with the fakes but if you draw its attention too much...”

“Y’ain’t gotta worry about that, boss, subtlety is me middle name,” he says with a lopsided grin, patting the stock of his shotgun, and cackling as he descends the staircase. You time a fresh wave of false gunmen to coincide with his arrival and he nods in appreciation as he trains his gun on the thrashing demon below.

>3d100 TN??

Rolled 33, 99, 96 = 228 (3d100)

>>3161811

Rolled 2, 73, 15 = 90 (3d100)

>>3161811

Rolled 53, 62, 54 = 169 (3d100)

>>3161811
ad

Rolled 47 (1d100)

Iiiiinteresting.

>>3161811
The shotgun booms, and almost immediately the Imp reacts…

...too late to stop a hail of shot shredding into its left arm. It wails in pain, but the work isn’t finished yet. Each pellet seems to ignite beneath the skin of the demon--a half-dozen tiny flares of hellish indigo--and suddenly large chunks of flesh are ripped away as Arnold’s choice of special ammunition tears even greater wounds into the beast. The Imp’s arm is left hanging by a thin strip of flesh whilst a torrent of black ichor flows from the horrendous injury. A man would be dead in moments, but you’re aware that such isn’t necessarily the case where monsters are concerned.

You are proven correct when the Imp goes berserk. It doesn’t stop. Flailing about with its one good arm, its legs powering it every which way in some alien desire to end as many lives as possible before it goes down. Such is its fury that Naru is only barely able to get a shot off before she has to dive out of the beast’s path. The bullet grazed the Imp’s skull, doing superficial damage and only serving to infuriate it more, if such a thing was possible.

You keep yourself focused. There is no place for you in the firefight, you know this now. Your efforts are best served in keeping this farce up so the Imp doesn’t decide to shred its way through your teammates. A small burst of power here gets a stocky man to open up with a Tommy gun. He vanishes moments later under the screaming wrath of the Imp. Another pulse there and a thought sees a tall, scraggly type unload a booming shotgun. He meets a similar fate to his colleague scant seconds after. This is fine. The time it spends carving through your fakes is time spent not carving through flesh and blood.

“How much more is this thing willing to take!?” Diedrich cries, frustration and terror lending his voice a strangulated pitch. The act is a mistake you don’t have time to reprimand him for, as the Imp zones in on its source immediately. You can almost swear that its eyes narrow as it leaps towards the pale-faced German. Your heart feels like it’s going to stop in your chest as it closes in.

And then Diedrich trips over, falling flat on his face, an act which undoubtedly saves his life as the Imp sails over him, crunching its face into one of the support beams holding the staircase up in a curiously comic display. The Imp snarls and shakes its head, tiny lines of its brackish blood running down its face as it rounds on Diedrich’s prone form. You get some more guns firing, but the Imp’s attention remains locked on the former soldier; you don’t know whether that’s down to the horrific injury it’s sustained or some other factor, but your trick appears to be having little effect.

(Cont.)

>>3163458
“C’mere, you little…” snarls Arnold as he attempts to draw a bead on the creature. You can tell it’s a futile effort. At this distance, the spread will almost certainly hit Diedrich, who even now crawls away from the Imp with a franticness lent only to the terrified.

Fortunately, he’s not alone down there.

Naru stands in the midst of a handful of your fake shooters, chanting softly. Half a mind you have to scream at her for standing still for too long, though admittedly the Imp is more focused on Diedrich than anything else at this stage. You can feel the tug of power as she draws upon the winds even from where you crouch. Whatever she’s doing, it’s powerful magic. Hopefully enough to keep the Imp down for good.

Keep it in place, she says through your team’s telepathic link, and even through it you can hear the strain her incantation places upon her, All I need is a shot.

>How do you keep the Imp still?

>>3163462
>Create an illusion of another demon doing a dominance display
Who knows whether it'll work though

>>3163462
Diedrich bursts into a flailing mass of tentacles and claws flailing at the imp.

>>3163463
>>3163462
Demon doing a dominance display that’s bigger than the actual one infront of us might b it.

>>3163462
I wanna see where that goes >>3163463
>>3163659

Rolled 69 (1d100)

Commencing with the updatey thing.

>>3163462
An idea springs to mind. It’s crazy. Stupid, in fact. You aren’t sure why on earth this is what came to mind when you started racking your brain for ways to keep the thing in one place, but it’s there.

Anything else, maybe?

No?

Fine. Fuck you, brain. You guess you’re going with stupid.

Nobody freak out. I’m going to try something, you warn.

Try faster, I’m almost done here! Naru informs you.

As the lady wishes, then.

You bring to mind a large, spiky, and thoroughly intimidating devil, basing its appearance off of the Imp down below. It’s probably not going to look convincing to anyone with a level head and a calm state of mind, but so far, what you’ve seen of the Imp suggests it has nothing approaching either of those two things.

So it’s with some smug satisfaction when you note that the Imp pauses as a nine-foot tall horned monstrosity bursts out from beneath the ground and bellows a challenge at the smaller creature.

“What the balls?” You hear Arnold mutter in dim surprise.

Fuck it. If it works...

And then Naru utters a word of power. It sounds Japanese, or at least, you know with certainty that it isn’t any English that you’ve heard before.

A small sphere of pitch blackness travels from Naru’s outstretched hand and into the back of the Imp. As soon as said sphere makes contact, the Imp jerks like it’s been struck by lightning. Then it starts to shake and convulse, which does… pretty awful things to its almost-severed arm. You can half-imagine what the sight might be like if this was done to a person. Yeesh.

Finish the fucking thing off before the hex wears off, Naru grinds out, I can’t keep this thing going forever, you know.

Diedrich needs no prompting. With a shrill cry that’s as fuelled by terror as it is by adrenaline, he dumps the contents of his magazine straight into the Imp’s body at point-blank range. Tough as these otherworldly beings are supposed to be, even they can’t seem to stand up to that much firepower hitting them all at once. The creature seems to disintegrate before your very eyes, its head shredded and deformed; torso ripped and torn by what must have been a loooot of bullets.

The Imp’s carcass teeters in place for a moment, and Diedrich flinches, fearing that perhaps the monstrosity might still somehow be alive. Said fear is dashed when it finally topples backwards with a dull, wet thump, black blood already pooling out around the area it fell. The German simply stares at the body, as if not quite believing what his eyes are showing him.

(Cont.)

>>3164476
“That was easy,” Arnold muses, lowering his shotgun. Naru shoots a baleful glare up at him before trudging over to Diedrich, who looks noticeably pale, even from this distance, and offering a hand to help him up. It takes the man a few seconds to register the gesture, or that the short Japanese woman is even there. Maybe you should consider asking if there are any therapists in your new Antarctic home…

I am hearing no more gunfire. I presume you are done? Iszolda asks.

Yeah, you feel… very tired, and you didn’t technically even do anything, Imp’s dead. We saved a city. Go team.

Good. I am finished on my end, as well. I believe Zafi is almost done with the rift, too.

I am, the woman in question confirms, I must say, I am impressed. Iszolda managed to kill the other Imp before it even made it fully through the rift.

Well, of course she did. She’s obviously still alive. Doesn’t sound like she took so much as a scratch either, the lucky devil.

>Take five while Zafi finishes her work--Naru and Diedrich especially have been run through a wringer, they could certainly use a break.
>Time to consolidate: Get everyone upstairs--don’t want to take the chance that another Imp might try its luck through the rift.
>No time to relax just yet. Keep someone downstairs as a lookout just in case someone comes snooping around--you made a lot of noise, after all.

>>3164477
>No time to relax just yet. Keep someone downstairs as a lookout just in case someone comes snooping around--you made a lot of noise, after all.
We’ll stay downstairs

>>3164489

Support

>>3164489
>>3164477
Sure, this seems fine.

>>3164477
>>No time to relax just yet. Keep someone downstairs as a lookout just in case someone comes snooping around--you made a lot of noise, after all.
Yeah, also going with us holding the fort downstairs.

>>3164477
>No time to relax just yet. Keep someone downstairs as a lookout just in case someone comes snooping around--you made a lot of noise, after all.

>>3164477
>No time to relax just yet. Keep someone downstairs as a lookout just in case someone comes snooping around--you made a lot of noise, after all.
We can do it, since we speak a language of the occupation.

Neato. Writing now.

File: actually_looks_weirdly_ad(...).png (116 KB, 450x882)

116 KB PNG

>>3164477
You release a breath, feeling your skin buzz and your muscles tingle as you stretch them out. You should be overjoyed: all the horror stories you’ve heard about the beings from the other realm, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to have expected far worse than a couple of near-brushes with death on the part of your teammates. Somehow, you all made it through, thanks to some truly phenomenal luck and maybe even a couple of good calls on your part.

You trudge down the staircase, a grin on your face as you take in the sight of Naru and Diedrich, both panting with exertion and the realisation of just how close they were to dying.

“Nice job,” you say, for want of anything better to offer.

“Go fuck yourself,” Naru breathes.

“Not very nice, considering I helped keep the pair of you alive,” you say, folding your arms.

“Point stands,” she persists, leaning against a wall for support next to Diedrich. You turn your attention to the man. Yup, still pale as a ghost.

“You okay there, Dee?” you ask in a moderately softer tone of voice. Even watching was enough to give you the idea that surviving an Imp attack is just a bit of a step up from surviving an ambush by slavering Lycans.

Worryingly, Diedrich fails to respond, instead clutching his almost assuredly empty gun in an even tighter death grip. Frowning, you crouch down to try and gauge his mood. His breathing is steady, which is usually a good thing. The awful pallor and strained expression that appears frozen on his face decidedly less so.

Suppressing a sigh, you decide that you are going to need to have a word with Grim when you get back. It’s obvious now that the poor guy was just never going to be cut out for this kind of work.

“Hey, Naru?”

“What?”

“You mind taking the pair of you both upstairs to where the other two ladies are waiting? Take five up there?”

She sours at the idea of playing babysitter once again, but--after a brief moment of hesitation--nods anyway before regarding you with curiosity, “What about you?”

“I’ll keep an eye on things down here,” you state, glancing down at the bloody carcass of the Imp and the gouges the various shot have carved in the interior of the clock tower, “We made a lot of noise out here. If anyone decides they want to have a peek, I’d rather have some warning first.”

Her only response is a grunt, though she then pushes herself off of the wall and reaches down to tug at the near catatonic German, “Come on big man,” she says, groaning with the effort ot dragging him along towards the staircase, “Just a bit of light exercise and then you can plant your ass down wherever you want.”

“Yer want an ‘and with that?” you hear Arnold ask, peering over the wooden railing above you.

“No, I can totally haul this guy upstairs myself!” Naru grouses, voice heavy with irony.

“All right, suit y’self.”

Tragically, it seems sarcasm is lost on Arnold.

(Cont.)

>>3166182
“Hey, get back here!” Naru yells up at the retreating figure, “No I--fucking--aaaargh!”

A hearty chuckle informs you that the big Brit was having some fun of his own, albeit at Naru’s expense, “Keep yer knickers on, Tiny, I was just ‘avin’ a giggle.”

“Yeah, real damn funny it was, too. Why, I oughta...” the rest of the former sailor’s dark muttering devolves into inane rambling as she draws further from you in order to ascend the staircase. You can’t help but chuckle, and you find yourself surprised at the way some of the stress just seems to evaporate from that one small act.

Well, shit, you’ve done good, right? It hadn’t sunk in before now, but you actually achieved everything you set out to do. You were sent to put holes in a rampaging demon. Said demon is now sufficiently dead. The rift, too, has been identified and any second now, you’re sure Zafi will inform you that the task of plugging it will be finished. You guess the only thing left to do once that’s done is… well, go home.

This provided, however, that the world sees fit not to rain on your parade as it’s usually wont to do. It’s this more sobering thought that sticks with you as you sidle up to the door and open it a crack, just enough for you to get a good angle on anyone deciding to creep through the little side street.

>1d100, no TN

>Figure I should probably bring this up, but for a prompt like this where there's no TN, would you prefer something like what I did with the last time (i.e. take 3 rolls, and calculate the average to work with as the end result), or do you think it might be better if I just took the very first die post to calculate the result?

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>3166193

>>3166193
I don't particularly mind the details behind rolls. If you feel like it might work out better, do your thing.

Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>3166193

>>3166193

Just take the first roll if you want to do an average; it's quite literally the same odds if you do so I believe.

Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>3166193

>>3166225
The average has a tendency towards middling results, which could be good or bad depending on difficulty.

Hmm, we'll go with the average for this post as we've got 3 dudes who've rolled already and I don't want them to feel like they wasted the effort, and then I think for any future prompts resolved in this manner, I'll exclusively take the first roll. Writing now.

>>3166193
Silence, thankfully, seems to be the order of the day. Any regular folks close enough to hear it might be more afraid for their own skins than curious--a reasonable reaction upon reflection. You hear not the unmistakable tromp of booted feet, nor the tip-tap of more casual footwear. So far, it seems as though you’ve actually gotten away without so much as a prying eye.

No, wait…

There’s definitely something out there. It sounds like a faint scratching noi--

Nevermind, it’s just someone’s dumb cat. The thing even glances straight at you through the open door and gives you a pleading little meow.

“Sorry, Mittens,” you murmur under your breath, silently aware of how ridiculous you’d look to anyone else talking at a cat, “I ain’t got anything for you. Go on, now. Beat it.”

Almost as if it can understand you, the feline straightens a fraction and contrives to look grievously offended by your lack of an offering. It then turns and saunters on away.

Good riddance. You’ve never been a cat person.

No sooner has it rounded the corner and disappeared from view when you hear a muted pop and a wave of displaced air buffet you for the briefest instant. In that same moment, Zafi informs you that the rift is now sealed.

That settles it, folks. Nice is now a demon-free zone. Time to grab your things and go home for some well-deserved R&B.

Or is it R&R? Rest and re--yeah. R&R it is.

>Head out immediately. So far, you’ve gotten lucky and you see no need to push it.
>Give the rest of your team a quick few minutes to catch their breath. You’ll continue to keep watch.

>>3167219
>>Give the rest of your team a quick few minutes to catch their breath. You’ll continue to keep watch.

>>3167219
>Head out immediately. So far, you’ve gotten lucky and you see no need to push it.

>>3167219
>Head out immediately. So far, you’ve gotten lucky and you see no need to push it.

>>3167219
>Head out immediately. So far, you’ve gotten lucky and you see no need to push it.

>>3167219
>Head out immediately. So far, you’ve gotten lucky and you see no need to push it.

No rest for the weary, then. Writing now.

>>3167219
You’d like to be able to give Naru and Diedrich a little more time to rest up, but at the same time, you feel that staying here any longer than you need to is pushing your luck, and quite frankly, you’re of the opinion that you’ve long outstayed your welcome.

We’re heading back, now, you inform the others.

Aw, c’mon! gripes Naru, I literally just got sat down!

Once we’re out of Nice, you can lie down all you want, but the fact is we made a lot of noise here and while we’ve escaped notice so far, it won’t be long until someone gets curious, and it’ll almost certainly be a patrol of some kind.

I agree, Zafi chimes in, We have accomplished our mission here. Heading back the safe house should be our priority.

That’s still, what, a half hour walk? I mean, I could do it, but what about Diedrich?

She’s got a point, you think, groaning to yourself.

We’ll just have to help him along until he can get himself going. I can still glamour us all up to look like another patrol.

And how will we explain why one of our number can’t walk?

You can leave that to me, says Zafi smoothly.

You guess that’ll have to be the plan. You know how to remove recent memories but, unfortunately, it requires the object of such attentions be still for at least a few minutes. Not something you imagine a patrol of soldiers will be willing to do.

There it is, then. Come on, I know you hate it, but the sooner we do this, the sooner we’re out of here and the sooner you can get to your room and just collapse on a nice, soft bed.

Naru says nothing in response, though you can well imagine her grumbling and grousing as she helps haul Diedrich back down the stairs. You continue to keep watch as you wait for the others, and soon enough, you hear muffled cursing from up above, which continues until the rest of your team reaches the bottom of the clock tower. Naru is less than happy, and distinctly less so that she’s been saddled with hauling Diedrich along, even despite Arnold’s assistance. Iszolda and Zafi appear as calm and in control as ever.

You gesture to the slightly open door, “Shall we?”

“Let’s,” replies Zafi.

And once more you venture out into Nice, noting the silence immediately. Whatever was going on earlier, it’ stopped now, which almost assuredly means you don’t have time to waste.

>1d100, Bo3, higher is better

Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>3169819

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>3169819

Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>3169819

>>3169819
Progress is slow going, thanks to to a certain member of your team deciding to selfishly remain in a state of shock as you haul his ass across a French city. Thankfully, the journey is mostly uneventful, with only a handful of patrols encountered, and each time you think you’re about to cross paths, there’s a little nook or cranny for you all to dive out of sight in and hold tight while they stroll right on by, no more the wiser. Though you took the care to

You pass by a dilapidated block of houses you recognise from… shit, was it really only a few hours ago, now? The sun is, by this point, almost completely set, though the street lights remain unlit. You wonder if there’s a reason behind that.

“There it is,” Zafi notes, pointing out Arnaud’s safe house, the place you began this little adventure in. Approaching the front door, she knocks three times, pauses, knocks once, one more pause, and then two final knocks. You catch on immediately; some code, either to let the occupant know who is knocking or that they’re friendly. End result is that the door opens, and the older Frenchman waves you all in.

“Quickly, quickly now,” he urges, “Ever since the shooting started, I’ve seen a few pairs of eyes scoping the house out. If they saw all of you enter; glamour or no, there’ll be alarms raised, so you all need to leave, and leave now.”

You don’t recall seeing any prying eyes, but you guess the local would know better.

>What about you and that Beatrice lady?
>Surely you aren’t staying here, then.
>Just do as the man says.

>>3170959
>Just do as the man says.

>>3170959
>>Surely you aren’t staying here, then.

>>3170959
>>Just do as the man says.

>>3170959
>"You coming with, or do you have another plan?"

Writing now.

>>3170959
You want to ask the man if that means he’s got a plan--surely he can’t be thinking of just staying put and waiting to be dragged off. Something in your expression must have tipped him off to your thoughts, however, because he offers a wry grin, “I have no intention of being snapped up by the Nazis, or their lap dogs from Italy.”

You guess that’ll have to be enough. A part of you wonders if that old lady who pointed you in the direction of that old clock tower and her grandson will be all right as well. They should be. It’s not as if they aided you in committing any sin against the the fine denizens of this fair city.

A pounding at the front door jolts you out of your pondering, and even though you don’t understand a lick of French, you know a curse when you hear one.

“Upstairs, now!” he hisses, “Get the summoning ritual underway! I’ll buy you some time.”

“Surely you can’t--” you start, but Zafi turns you away, her soft features now stern and uncompromising.

“Mark my words, Arnaud,” she says, “We will find a way to repay you for this.”

“Hopefully, you won’t need to,” he remarks with a sour note of bitterness, “if I never see any of you or Grim’s bunch ever again, it’ll mean I can live in peace,” he sighs as he draws a small sheet of paper from his pocket, and even through the paper, you can make out a runic language inked onto the otherwise mundane little sheet, “I liked this house, as well.”

He slaps it against the wall as the door starts to buckle--the lock’s a hair’s breadth from being kicked in--and immediately the wall starts to smoulder, and in the time it takes to blink it’s ablaze. Potent stuff. You’d be tempted to ask how he does it, but you’re already haring up the staircase to the attic you originally made your entrance, drawing up the rear behind everyone else. You flinch as the door finally caves, and you hear some muffled yelling below, and then a gunshot. Loud, booming. You don’t think it could be anything owned by Arnaud, unless he was hiding a shotgun somewhere.

“There are more upstairs!” you hear a voice cry in German, and you feel a cold sweat break as you recall the identity of the one who owns it: it’s that fucking Major from before. The others are already charging up the second set of stairs and have made it into the attic, but Zafi and the others will still need some time before the circle in the attic can transport you back to the Antarctic, and you can already hear heavy footfalls pounding up the stairs below, presumably ignoring the magically charged blaze set by Arnaud scant moments beforehand.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

(Cont.)

>>3173563
You look around for anything you can use to delay the invaders. There’s a little wooden table with a long-dead potted plant, a few photo frames and an old painting. Down a short hall sit three closed doors, and you’ve not the time to open them to see if you can throw a hasty barricade up.

>Throw the table in the way of the stairs and light it up with some hellfire--surely purple fire will make any ordinary person think twice about climbing after you.
>Time to get your con on big time. Make some special effects in the same vein as those you used in the Clock Tower.
>Other?

>I put the ‘Other’ prompt in, but I’ll go on record now and say that, unless I explicitly state otherwise, the option of a write-in is always open.

>>3173565
>>Time to get your con on big time. Make some special effects in the same vein as those you used in the Clock Tower.

>>3173565
>>Time to get your con on big time. Make some special effects in the same vein as those you used in the Clock Tower.

>>3173565
>Time to get your con on big time. Make some special effects in the same vein as those you used in the Clock Tower.

>>3173565
>Time to get your con on big time. Make some special effects in the same vein as those you used in the Clock Tower.

Calling the vote and writing.

File: Spoiler Image (317 KB, 825x1100)

317 KB JPG

>>3173565
You don’t see another option. With a snap of your fingers, a trio of armed gunmen appear at the foot of the staircase and open up with a set of big guns. The simulation needs to be perfect but, thanks to your recent experiences, you’ve got a pretty good idea of how to frame the absolute chaos of a gunfight in cramped quarters. A voice screams in German for backup, and for it to arrive now. You’d be more partial to thunderous applause yourself, but as reception for your work, you suppose it will do. At the very least, no one appears keen to poke their heads up and into a blizzard of hissing lead.

Adam, what are you doing? Zafi asks, sounding the closest you think you’ve heard to worried.

Buying some time for you to set up.

You debate asking for more help from some of the others, but dismiss it. The staircase is only wide enough for one of you at a time, so all that bringing some of your team down would achieve is confusion and a few bruised elbows as you all get in each other’s way. No, better that they help on getting the circle redrawn as quickly as they’re able so you can all get the hell out of dodge as soon as you’re able.

The one-sided and entirely illusory war continues on unabated below. You consider having the fakes let up so you can perhaps listen in on whatever they might be doing. Shaking your head, you have the shooting carry on. So loud is the din, that you don’t even notice that the intruders have tossed a grenade until it goes off. Fortunately, you’re well out of the way of any harm, such is the angle of the staircase to the attic, but the blast disrupts your concentration long enough for your gunmen to unceremoniously vanish into thin air.

Cursing, you get to work bringing a few more of your fakes in, but you can already hear footsteps tromping upstairs below. The first of the shooters takes aim down the corridor towards the staircase to resume the barrage, and it’s as he sets up that you see the figure approach it.

His dress is… hell, you can’t really think of any other word to describe it besides strange. Decked out entirely in black, save for a curious pair of red-tinted goggles that conceal his eyes, he strides towards the closest of the gunmen with a pistol held in one hand, while in the other is either the longest knife you’ve ever seen, or a goddamn sword.

The shooter raises his weapon to his shoulder. The man in black is no more than five paces at most from the frontmost agent. At that distance, if it was, in fact a real weapon, he’d be dead.

(Cont.)

>>3176991
So, your surprise is total, when the stranger spins around the path of the first bullet and drives the tip of his sword through the sternum of the one who fired. He vanishes into thin air. The man pauses, almost certainly surprised by the lack of a physical presence, before standing up straight to face the remaining two, and you can’t help but feel a cold sweat break out as he saunters easily toward them.

He’s figured it out.

The last two fakes gutter out of existence as fear grips your heart. The man reaches the bottom of the staircase and stares directly up at you, and the fear becomes near-blind panic.

He takes one tentative step up, perhaps wary of any further traps, and then another when nothing happens. Becoming bolder, he takes the next step after a shorter delay, and then the next, and the one after, and the one after that.

>Surprise hellfire! Surely he won’t be expecting
>Now seems like a real good time to use that gun on your back. Trepidation be damned, it’s him or you!
>Fuck this. Into the attic and bolt the fucking door shut--you want none of this.

>>3176999
>Now seems like a real good time to use that gun on your back. Trepidation be damned, it’s him or you!

>>3176999
>>Now seems like a real good time to use that gun on your back. Trepidation be damned, it’s him or you!

>>3176999
>Surprise hellfire! Surely he won’t be expecting
This guy dodged a frigging bullet. An illusory bullet but still.

>>3176999
>>Now seems like a real good time to use that gun on your back. Trepidation be damned, it’s him or you!

>>3176999
>Surprise hellfire! Surely he won’t be expecting
Double points if we coat an area.

>>3176999
>Surprise hellfire! Surely he won’t be expecting

>>3176999
>Surprise hellfire! Surely he won’t be expecting
The AOE attack seems like a better idea.

Rolled 75 (1d100)

Well, that was embarrassing. The rest of the winning choice was meant to read 'he won't be expecting a real attack after outing you as an illusionist.' Oh well.

Writing now.

>>3176999
For a moment, you consider going for your gun. The idea dies in its infancy. He’s far too close and--if his earlier display was any indication--far too agile. A fully automatic weapon might have been a decent shout. Yours, unfortunately, is not, and those fancy tracker rounds you picked out will avail you not a bit here.

So you decide instead to follow up with something Mr Black likely won’t be expecting following your open demonstration of what he must assume to be your main practice. He’s correct, of course, but you didn’t pick up fire magic as a backup discipline for shits and giggles.

Two blazing vermillion balls of fire materialise in your hands as you draw upon the winds once more. Mr Black pauses a moment, considering. To sweeten the act, you allow your fear to show, just for an instant, before suppressing it as best you can. Sure enough, he advances, unafraid.

“Burn you son of a bitch,” you snarl and throw both roaring fireballs with all the might you can muster.

>1d100 (TN65)

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>3179099

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>3179099

Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>3179099

>>3179099
The first of the portable blazes you just tossed singes the edge of the man in black’s coat, and he instantly reacts to the heat. His sword bats at the second, and you grin at the sight of the steel boiling and starting to melt. He drops the now useless weapon before staring up at you. You can’t make out even a hint of his expression beneath his mask or the goggles--even his body language betrays nothing, but you can’t shake the gut feeling that he’s giving you the mother of all death glares.

The hand gripping the pistol is up in a snap, and you feel a thin needle of pain stab your flank as the bullet grazes you. Yelping in surprise and at the sudden, hissing burning sensation in your side, you turn tail and bolt upstairs and towards the door. As you do so, you hear Zafi’s voice echoing through your head.

Adam, preparations are complete! Get up here! Now!

Well, the lady doesn’t need to tell you twice.

Cursing as another shot skirts your calf, you slam the door shut and behold everyone else squarely inside the circle, which is already lit up as it gathers the necessary energy to relocate everyone inside it thousands upon thousands of miles to a distant place. Bullets punch through the wood and while you aren’t proud of the distinctly unmanly noise that escapes your gullet at all the near misses, you can’t imagine anyone blaming you.

Adam! Jump! Now!

You do so without the slightest hint of hesitation, throwing yourself for that glorious glowing border offering the tantalising promise of safety. You hear the door splinter as a savage kick breaks it almost in half and twist your head as Mr Black strides in. If he’s surprised at all by the sight of the circle, he doesn’t show it as he raises his gun to point it dead at your forehead. You can see the way his muscles tighten in preparation to take a life, and the way his finger curls around the trigger. You see the flash as the gun goes off and your heart feels like it’s hammering at a hundred beats a second like at any moment it’ll tear itself freefromyourchestand--

A hellish flash blinds you, coupled with a thousand different images of horrific vistas that sear themselves into your brain. You can’t stop the wail that rips itself from your lungs as your brain shuts your body down in a frantic effort to save your sanity. The last conscious thought you have is that you shouldn’t have been so damned stupid as to keep your eyes open in a summo--

…

Your eyelids are heavy. Consciousness comes begrudgingly slow and with it, awareness, and stunted recollection. There’s a reason behind the way your skull aches to the pounding like a drum, but you can’t for the life of you drudge it up. It all just hurts too damn much.

Groaning, you open your eyes, hoping maybe something or someone will provide an answer. You find yourself…

>On a medical cot.
>In your room.
>Back at home.

>>3179670
>In your room.

>>3179670
>Back at home.

>>3179670
>On a medical cot.

>>3179670
>On a medical cot.

>>3179670
>>On a medical cot.

>>3179670
Blinking your bleary eyes, you think for a moment that you’re at home, in your bed. Another blink, and the illusion is gone. You lie on a medical cot, presumably in an infirmary. Your head feels as though someone’s taken a hatchet to it. Several times. Your sight is blurred and you can hardly make anything out a few paces past the edge of your bed.

Your memory returns, and the stinging in your skull intensifies with it. You remember barely escaping the masked psycho with the sword and…

Yeah, you were actually dumb to keep staring even as you made your exit.

The distinctive, subtle shuffling noise of someone adjusting themselves in their seat nearby grabs your attention. You turn to look and find someone’s occupied a seat next to your bed. How kind of them. You can only barely make out the distinctive figure of…

>Zafi
>Arnold
>Naru
>Iszolda
>...Dad?

>>3181102
>...Dad?

>>3181102

>...Dad?

>>3181102
>...Dad?