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At this point, so late into the night, you should definitively be coughing. Yet your cold body
thrives, the rain has stopped, and, while not dry yet, your purple turtle-neck sweater and jeans
aren't glued tight to your skin anymore. How long has it been? Fuck if you know. And where
is this place, now? Fuck if you know, too. No matter what else has changed, it seems that
your propensity to curse was stuck to your soul to begin with.

But hey; at least there's something you /do/ know. Those three, no, four girls have been
following you for too long. Some hid behind other people. Other was in a bike. Two of them
seem to have been jumping from roof to roof, which is cool.

And now that there's nobody else around, the one with the weird blue hair finally comes into
light.

You greet her.

She doesn't greet back.

"What are you doing?" she ask cleanly, simply, cold as the night. What are you doing... that's a good question.

At some point, the cat simply gave up following you around. Since then you've just wandered under the sun, spending your time on earth only on what you could hear and see and feel.

But what were you doing? Hmm

"Don't space out," she says, the blue girl on the green jacket. "And answer the question."

"She's bait," claims a shrill, sweet voice. "They want to lure us out."

Then a third voice lashes: "It doesn't matter if she's bait, her soul gem is almost black! Just do it!"

"Do it now!"

"Hold." That word alone from jacked is all it took to bring back silence. "You," she says, eyes on you from the dark, "you are invading our territory. Convince me there is no ill intent or suffer retribution."

As the other girl shouts 'do it!" yet again, you notice the one that hasn't said a world yet. She seems... small, and isn't looking at you at all. That green-haired girl is looking at the floor, covering her mouth.

None of them must be over fifty years old. All you know right know is that you are about to get killed by random strangers, and that really is all you know.

There's nothing to work with.
>Ask questions. Ask what's wrong.
>Turn back and run away.
>Prove that you were just wandering in (write-in)
>Cry.

>>4686716
>>Ask questions. Ask what's wrong.

>>4686716
>Ask questions. Ask what's wrong.

>>4686729
>>4686732

>Ask questions. Ask what's wrong.

First things first: you don't know what the /ffffffffuck/ is going on. You know the cold
breeze feels nice on your hair, you know the sound it makes when you stomp on a puddle-
but that won't help. Not now.

You ask green jacket why they want to hurt you. You ask where the cat went. You ask what
makes you bait, and who wants to lure them out. You ask what's a soul gem, why they jump
on roofs, why they think you are invading, why her hair is blue, why the green hair girl is so
small, why all of them look so gloomy when there's so much to eat in the world, why-

"Stop," green jacket booms, the only one you can see clearly under the lamplights that spawn
thin white lines. "I'll ask the questions. Why is-"

"She's just making time, can't you see?!"

"Then we'll let her have it," green jacket answers sharply. "We will /not/ risk harming
innocent magical girls. Now-"

But you interrupt her, this time. Maybe you asked too many questions at once, but you'll
have to do it again.
Yet once you are done asking, all green jacket
does is blink.

"Do you mean, in a metaphorical sense?" she wonders, slowly. "What is a magical girl? Will
you attempt to win your life over with philosophy?"

The girl under the lamplight shares a quick, interesting /look/ with her team-mates hidden
around. Then she points at your chest.

"May I have that?" she asks. You grab the pendant on your chest and shake it a little.
"That," she repeats.

You study the pendant intently. It looks like... a rose, pink, very pink, very bright, but definitively
harder than maybe even a rock. It weights on your hand and shines with the light of the lamp
posts, at it looks so pretty.

>Hand over the pendant.
>Don't. It looks pretty.

>>4686762
>Hand over the pendant.

>>4686762
>>Don't. It looks pretty.

>>4686768

It looks pretty, but... who are you not to share? You drag it from under your long, pink hair, and
toss it at her without a care in the world... a bit too off the mark.

Green jacket gasps and jumps at it like a goalkeeper with a debt to the mob, catching it in
mid-air.

You simply stare at her and tilt you head, then congratulate her for a good job. Even though
she's all covered in mud now.

"Just what is wrong with you?!" she yells at you from the floor, her hair and jacket all splattered
brown. It's like she kicks the "What was that?!"

"Did she just... fling her soul gem? At Beck?"

"No? No, wait-"

"It's a trap! Beck, throw it, NOW!"

But Beck doesn't. She just stares at your soul gem in awe. "No. This isn't a trap. This is, and
will be, the single most stupid thing I ever had to witness in my life."

Then she stares at you, shakes her head, walks up to you, and hands you the pendant.

"WHAT?" screams one of the girls above.

"She's for real. We are not attacking her."

You punch the air and go 'yay!' before Beck buries almost her whole forearm in your left
cheek.
Then you go 'ouch'.

"Sorry, but I wouldn't have slept for a week leaving that kind of attitude go unpunished. It's
for your own good."

You say it's ok with only half your face, as you stand. The other three girls spawn from the
shadows, two falling from a roof and another coming from behind a silly looking poster
monster.

The one that kept telling Beck to kill you, the one with black hair and a white dress, stands
next to Beck.

She talks between gasps.

"Beck. The grief seed. We need it. Anne. Anne is going to turn into... without the grief seed.
Beck."

"We are-"

"LOOK- at her soul gem," says the black and white girl. "It's black, pitch black. She's not
going to make it anyway."

They look at your pendant, and you look at it too. Pink, yet so oh black.

"It's almost a grief seed at this point. Almost." Don't let her get away. A-anne-"

"You'd murder an innocent magical girl for her sake?" Beck asks, calmly.

"We won't even need to do that, all we have to do is wait, just wait!"

Then the third one steps into the light, a girl with white hair in a black dress. "If it's not us,
then any of the teams of the East will take her. You wouldn't just be killing Anne; you'd be
making our enemies stronger."

"She's braindead, she wouldn't last long on her own anyway."

"Beck!"

...

You have so many questions, but you got so little answers. Fondling the edges of your "soul gem", you find that, yes, it is dark, but it's not 'pitch black' or even near there yet- which is apparently a good thing.

And you find yourself, yet again, with so few options.
>Run away while they argue.
>Say you'll help them save their friend.
>Say they can keep the pendant if they let you leave.
>Ask them if they ever killed someone else.
>Write In

>>4686835
Sorry bro, I was already writing the post. Ok let's see, I'll go with whatever gets posted the first hour after each post or the first post after that hour, otherwise this will never end.

>>4686849
>Ask them if they ever killed someone else.

>>4686918

>Ask them if they ever killed someone else.

Ending another life. Sure, we all splat annoying flies against the walls, or step on spiders in
case they are poisonous. Killing another person, though... there seems to be a very, very
vital difference somewhere around there.

They all stop talking as you ask the girls if they've ever killed another person. And for a
while, they stay that way.

"No..." it's black hair white dress, the one that insisted the most on ending you. "None of us
has. Not yet."

She steps towards you.

"But..." trembling, her hand reaches for her own soul gem, a cute looking, red... dragon? "...if it's
for my friends... for the people I hold dear-"

She's shaking, so you take a step back in case she explodes. Beck bars her way with an arm,
yet keeping her eyes on your black and pink pendant.

"I did," says Beck, with finality, "accidentally, in self-defense." She turns to the girl at her side.
"It would destroy you."

"So would Anne's death."

"This isn't self-defense," says Beck. "You'll be a murderer."

"The murderer who saved her friend."

"You will have to live with this, you'll dream with this every night."

Black hair chuckles. "Six more months, at most. And that would be one hell of a fucking roll."

You wonder if death is what hip fifty years old girls talk about these days.

"One life for another," Beck states. "What is the difference?"

"It's a life I know! The life of a friend!"

"And what about her friends? Or the friends she could have, the good she could do?"

"She's already going to die on her own anyway!" Black hair finally layes out, as
someone whimpers softly "It's mercy!"

That doesn't seem fair, though. You didn't even have a chance to prove yourself. If you are a
magical girl, which you seem to be or otherwise you wouldn't be the center of this debate, then
that, unless the title is some sort of joke, you can do magic. Some kind of magic.

You wonder what kind of magic.

>Attempt to prove that you could survive on your own despite your dark soul gem.
>Tell Black Hair that her friend would have to live knowing someone was killed for her.
>Tell Black Hair that the guilt would make her hate her own friend.
>If you really are a magical girl then you surely can run away magically.

>>4686954
>You wonder what kind of magic.

Graviga

>>4686962
nigga this aint ivalice

>>4686966
Some weak ol' magic then.

>Attempt to prove that you could survive on your own despite your dark soul gem.

>>4686976
>Attempt to prove that you could survive on your own despite your dark soul gem.

So, you are a magical girl. Neat. That has to mean something. Puffing your extremely
humble chest up, you ask the murder squad what would happen if your pendant becomes
completely black.

"You turn into a Witch," answers Black Hair nonchalantly, as if, out of her whole body, only
her mouth moved to spit the sentence.

"Scarfs," Beck warns, "you cannot just tell that to someone."

"Don't tell her. Please."

It's the first time you hear that high pitched voice, you can tell where it's from because
everyone turned to look at her. It's the green haired girl, the smallest of all. She's still looking
at the floor.

"Whatever," says Scarfs. "You wanted a chance to prove yourself, I'll give it to you."

You ask what a Witch is.

"You don't need to know."

A flash of light, intense and short, leaves you winking as you try to keep the thread of reality-
yet your eyes widen once you do. Right in front of you, where Scarfs was, Scarfs is... or, at
least, a more detailed, much more frilly, elegant version of Scarfs.

Her clothes changed completely.

You were about to ask why they call her 'Scarfs', but that would be useless now. The
black and white pattern remain in what seems to be a checkers theme on a robe. Behind her
head is a cross... you remember that, that's a king, that's chess!

"Do you agree with this... Beck?"

Beck doesn't answer.

Scarfs simply glances at Beck. Then her wide sleeve spits a broadsword until her hand and
you realize what's going to happen.

"This is your chance," Scarfs says, brandishing the sword, eyes fixed on you.

You ask Scarfs if she's a magical girl.

Who chuckles. "If you are so dense that you haven't figured that out yet then I really am
doing you a favor. We all are."

She keeps walking to you, and you keep walking away.

"Show me," she roars, her voice suddenly dry and coarse.

Oh FUCK
>Run the fuck away.
>Face her and let magic do its thing.
>Try to convince her not to stab you somehow (write in)

>>4687069
>Face her and let magic do its thing.

>>4687069
>Run the fuck away.

>If this is what Magical Girls are like maybe it's not the best thing run awaaaay.

>>4687161

>Face her and let magic do its thing

You didn't run away before, and you won't run away now. They each have a pendant and you
have one too, Magical Girl vs Magical Girl- and she asked you to show her.

"Do it! Transform!" Scarfs demands, slamming her sword so hard against the floor that Green
Hair shrieks.

So you scream, "Transform!"...

and nothing happens.

Beck, still a normal, everyday girl to your eyes, holds Scarfs back as you keep screaming the
same word over and over.

Then you give up. You ask Scarfs how she did it.

"She really has no damn clue at all," says Beck, slamming a hand to her forehead, scratching
her face /hard/ on the way down. "This isn't a joke. This is Kyubey's vengeance."

You repeat your question, even addressing her 'name'.

"You... should be able to," Beck says, interrupting Scarfs. "It's second nature."

"But it's a good question, really," says Green Hair, taking just a bit of the spotlight. "I don't
know how I do it either."

"Then she's done," says Scarfs, simply, bleakly, "she'd have died anyway."

Before you say another word, everything goes bigger-

as you notice the sword through your chest.
It doesn't hurt; at first. Then, it burns, faintly, like
hot sauce.

Then it hurts.

"Now, " Scarfs whispers, "witch-out for Anne."

(cont!)

You didn't even noticed when she took your pretty soul gem between her fingers, her eyes
darting between yours and the pink gem, everyone else speechless.

"Why," Scarfs asks, very, very slowly, "why isn't it going black?"

But before you can answer, as you lock eyes with the Magical Girl, you see, in perfectly
soothing slow-motion, how she's slammed clean against the floor by a huge... arrow?
harpoon? Spear? And then another, and then another, and then ano-

Alright, move it!

Your mind only catches up when you are bouncing between walls and roofs, over and
over, dodging beams of light and metal just barely again and again. Finally, you manage:
someone is princess-carrying you, blood flows through your chest, and that person carrying is
a

"Hang on! Hold on tight!"

as you both break through the roof of an old cathedral, falling next to the beautiful shards of
glass, of every glinting color, there's no doubt in your mind that this is another Magical Girl.

As mesmerizing as the fall was, the landing is pretty rough, yet the Magical Girl under the
emerald hood manages to stay on foot.

"I may or may have not completely RUINED my ankle," you hear her grumble, "but hey, at least
OH COME ON GOD GIVE ME A BREAK."

Except for the green haired, soft-natured Magical Girl, you both are surrounded by the
other three as you stand behind altar. Emerald Hood slides you behind it.

"That Magical Girl clearly had no idea, " you hear Beck say, "but you, Golden, you are
doubtlessly /trespassing/."

"Hey at least I'm not a murderer," she answers meekly.

Still in pain, your breath shallow, you peek from behind the alter. Scarfs is forcing a huge arrow
out of her body, and slamming it at Green Hood's feet.

Scarfs spits blood and smiles. "More grief seeds, then," she says.

"Raya is coming," Emerald Hood says.

"Raya can choke on shit," White Hair bellows.

You notice that White Hair is transformed, and that her costume is almost identical to Scarfs,
but with the black and white reversed. You don't get to see Beck's from where you are.

"Rookie," you hear Beck say from behind the pillar, "listen to me. I will be honest with you.
We were... and I will include myself, I will be honest... to take your life for our necessity.
Now, that necessity will be sated by this trespasser; there is no need to share her fate."

"Don't worry, Raya is coming," Emerald Hood says from somewhere you can't figure out.

"We will spare you," Beck says. She sounds... pleadingly. "Leave before this turns into a
bloodbath. We will not stop you. This doesn't need to involve you."

>Accept.
>Decline.
>Write In.

>>4687231
>Write In.
>Laugh.

>>4687240
damn man what you laughing at

>>4687247
To mock them. They put a sword in my chest and ask me to walk away? Laugh and spit on their offer.
Friends don't treat friends this way.

>>4687255
Wait that's raw

>>4687255
>>4687247
Or you can just do a crazy laugh.
Yeah, that's better, just laugh. The craziness of it all.

>>4687231
>>4687240

>>4687247
The absurdity of all this. We were just enjoying the rain and minding our own business and then we get stabbed for...reasons? It's ridiculous and last we checked, only bad guys murder wantonly. So they must be bad guys.

And Magical Girls have to beat the bad guy. No matter what.

>>4687261
This guy. This guy right here is on the level.

>>4687255
>>4687240
Support

>>4687240
>>4687261
>>4687268

>Accept?
>Decline?
>???

It's just too much. Even if Beck was true, even if Beck would follow through... it's still too much.

Alone against three, clutching her massive bladed crossbow, the Magical Girl of the
Emerald Hood doesn't even flinch as the cacophony of laughter fills the cathedral,
laughter echoing from every wall and saint. You were jumping on puddles. You were looking for
flowers, not even collecting them. You were wet all the way down to your feet, smiling at the
sun, petting cats and dogs, focused on the cold afternoon breeze.

You were stabbed through the chest with a broadsword.

"Beck," you faintly make out Scarfs say, "that girl won't listen."

The laughter goes on and on, on and on.

"PLEASE," yet Beck's voice rises above, as the Magical Girl of the Emerald Hood reels back, "I,
no, nobody here wants meaningless death. Leave. /I WILL PROTECT YOU/. Just LEAVE."

"So what will you tell this girl after you stab her again," says Emerald Hood, "that you love
her?"

White Hair chuckles grimly. "Raya won't make it in time."

"We'll see."

The chaos rises even your laughter, but it's over swiftly. The silence after is even more
deafening- because you are silent too. What breaks it is the sound of someone falling to its
knees.

"We didn't even turn her into a Witch," says Beck, very faintly. "She was trying to help this
girl."

"She was trespassing," you hear Scarfs says, and she says it too clearly. "This is our territory.
There's a Witch drought. It was deserving."

"She was a girl, like you and me."

"Raya is coming," says White Hair. "Take the girl. Don't waste Golden's death."

When Beck, the girl of the blue hair, now the girl of the messed blue hair leans behind the altar,
when she looks at you with big, blank eyes, sweating... you laugh at her.

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127 KB PNG

aight guys, that's it for today. when should i start tomorrow?

>>4687305
Well. Some heroes. I wasn't expecting us to laugh that long, though. And I'm not certain what happened- Emerald and her backup died without us noticing? Seems a bit off, but I guess. Not sure what we do next, though.

>>4687312
Whenever. I get off hella late, so it's unlikely I'll be able to participate except at the tail end like tonight anyway.

>>4687328
trust me, the laughter is justified, and thats all ill say for now. in case it wasn't clear, golden got shrek'd but there's no word about the rest of her team. too bad you won't make it earlier anon, but do your best at work

postan in one hour

The room is vast, the windows high, tall machinery surrounds, at every side, the hook of
the crane you've been tied to. Try as you might, your fat shoes barely scratch the ground, from
three Magical Girls stare in silence as Scarfs is crushing your pendant between thumb and
index right in front of you.

As your blood buries the floor.

You feel immense pressure, but where and from where, you just can't tell. A Magical Girl's
body is resilient, much more so than your average gym addict or even athlete- it's the
only explanation you can find to you still drawing breath.

"It's no use. No use," Scarfs mumbles, and when she lets go of your soul gem, the
pressure lets go too. "The soul gem... it barely got darker." She studies your soul gem intently,
almost violently, as if the darkness was hiding somewhere in the back. "This must be her
magic."

"Or she's crazy," White hair growls in disbelief. "At this rate, she'll die before becoming a Witch.
Another meaningless death."

You are being tortured, yet all you do is giggle. The shift in luck, the speed of change; you find
the true degree at which one is at the mercy of fate to be hilarious.

"Then let her go," Beck interjects. "We gain NOTHING from this."

"With wounds like that?" White Hair shakes her white hair. "We might as well keep trying now."

When a Magical Girl's pendant goes completely dark, she turns into a Witch. When a Witch is
killed, she turns into a Grief Seed- and a Grief Seed could save Anne. That's all you gather so
far.

Your magic... if you weren't a Magical Girl you'd be dead. So you have it.

You wonder if you could use it. You wonder if you are already using it.

>Ask Beck to save you.
>Ask Scarfs if she doesn't feel bad about doing this.
>Scream for help to anyone that could hear you.
>Lie. You don't know what your magic does, but they don't either. (Write-In)
>Ask questions. If you don't know what's going on, you cannot offer another solution (Write-In)
>Write-In

>>4687873
>Ask questions. If you don't know what's going on, you cannot offer another solution (Write-In)
"Does Anne want to be rescued?"

>>4688002
+1

>>4687873
>Write-In
>Stand

>>4688002
>>4688055

>Ask if Anne wants to be rescued.

It takes all you got left to stop giggling, which is made even harder when Scarfs bites on you
pendant, her eyes like honey fixed on yours. But you manage. You ask Scarfs, spitting blood
halfway, if Anne wants to be rescued.

"She just asked that" she says like a robot. "She's losing her mind."

"Would your sister," it's Beck, finally standing up to Scarfs, "would your sister want to be saved,
if she knew how? Would she ask for this, Scarfs?"

And yet Scarfs doesn't even look at her.

"We won't tell her," it's all she says.

Trembling, Beck keeps her face locked in place as if trying to drill through Scarfs's skull with her
eyes. The pressure makes you gasp, but you repeat your question: you ask if Anne wants to
be rescued.

"Ignore her, she doesn't even know Anne," says White Hair. "And at least Anne would have a
shot at surviving on her own."

...You find yourself about to pass out, at the very limit... hoping that at least the girl of the
White Hair is right and Anne has a good shot in this world. After all, you've been a Magical Girl
for a day, at most- and look at you.

You fall almost face-first into the puddle of your own blood.

"What are you doing?" you hear Scarfs ask, as steps rush towards you.

Someone turns around, then lifts your head and shoulders.

"She wasn't moving," says Beck.

>>4688064
>Stand

Your attempt to stand is as short-lived as the sound of a firecracker. There's a hole in your
chest; you barely feel your legs. You giggle.

"She isn't witching-out," says Beck. "I'm taking her."

"I'll fucking kill you," says Scarfs.

"Ribbon."

The Magical Girl of the white hair shakes her nose. "It would be a complete and utter waste
of blood and tears," explains Ribbon.

Beck swallows. "This team is over."

Finally, Scarfs looks at Beck. "Don't make me make you wish you had said that later," she
warns.

Before Beck gets to retort, Scarfs transforms. Her thematic chess outfit, although a bit silly,
feels... eerie.

Beck's green jacket is already red with your blood. But her ear is within your reach.
>Beg Beck to save you.
>Tell Beck to lay low.
>Write-In

>>4688092
>>Tell Beck to lay low.

>>4688092
>Write-In
>Reach for our pendant.

>>4688162
>Tell Beck to lay low

Moving your lips as little as you can, as low as you can manage, you tell Beck to lay low.
You didn't see what happened to Golden, but you don't want to see it happening to Beck,
even if she were to stand a chance against the two chess girls. Their team is obviously broken
already, you are bleeding halfway to death; it's obvious where they'd get the Grief Seed for
Anne.

"Leave that girl and go," Scarfs demands, her sleeve spitting the broadsword into her hand.
"You aren't ready to face reality, Beck."

Yet Beck stays in place as if stuck.

She isn't moving. She isn't laying low.

>>4688186
>Reach for our pendant.
It's as far from you as your dream to make cat-serpent hybrids.

>Tell Beck to apologize.
>Tell Beck to take you out of there.

>>4688221
Pretty gnarly
>Reject Fate

>>4688318
Or to keep it going.
>Tell Beck to take you out of there.

Made it.

>>4688221
>>Tell Beck to take you out of there.

>>4688372
>>4688323

>>Tell Beck to take you out of there.

You imagine even Scarfs and Ribbon themselves would admit it: that they are past
the deep end, that they lost /it/. You don't know how much they are about Beck, but her selfless
display of bravery has left a door open; one inside which she's their target. At this point,
even for her own safety, you both have to get away from there. At least that's how you'll think
about it.

Then it dawns on you.

That green girl at the corner, under the blanket of shadows... she's fifty years old. At most.
Scarfs, Ribbon, even Beck and you, none of you must be over eighty years old already,
none of you could walk into a bar at night yet.

These are... teenagers. Girls; barely in their puberty. Girls that worry too much about
makeup, girls that talk a lot and too loud , girls that laugh at fat people and then feel guilty, girls
glued to their cellphones sharing cat memes instead of talking. Girls worried about their
future, about having a crush, about looking pretty in the mirror, about being smart. Girls
with all the problems girls, no, teenagers have.

What in the unholy name of /fuck /is going on?

But you don't think about it. You can't think about it. Instead, softly, you chuckle. Softly, you
ask Beck for your life, your life as a teenager, for your problems: you ask Beck to bail you the
fuck out.

Not a second later she obliges, leaping to the skies.

(cont!)

From Beck's shoulder you see the three girls growing smaller in a second, but when you look
up the hole in the roof made by Golden goes dark at once, completely covered by bizarre
figures-

"...sHIT!"

-but Beck is fast to strike the mass of weird things enough to make it rise, but not enough to
break it. Scarfs is already leaping at her, rusted sword in hand, as you both fall, but Beck is
quick to throw you aside and meet her in the air. You tumble over the second floor's railing so
fast and hard that only the wall at the end stops you, but despite your wounds you are quick to
stand up and run to it. Below you, Beck, wearing thick, red armor with violet patterns
everywhere but her arms, head, and shoulders, is surrounded from every side by Scarfs,
Ribbon, and the things that were on the roof.

"More than betrayed, I feel insulted," says Scarfs, "that you'd even consider I wouldn't
prepare for that."

You look at the monsters. Their heads are completely round. Their bodies, humanoid but
heavily disproportionate, are a mix of wood, stone, and statues. And there's something... 2D
about them, as if you were staring at a living drawing.

"It's not that I didn't know," Beck bellows, defiantly spawning, in dazzling red light, a tonfa
in each hand as long as her arms. "It's that I didn't care. RUN, AUTIST."

Yet only a step in as you turn around you bump into Ribbon; she simply shakes her index finger
to the sides but does nothing else. Instead of the cross Scarfs wears behind her head,
Ribbon wears a crown. And a big black ribbon.

She points down where Beck is facing Scarfs's odd army.

"Looks like you are about to drag yet another one down with you," Ribbon points out. "How
does that feel?"

Your mind is blank and white. As you watch Beck tear -a peon- apart, you don't feel
anything.

You wonder why that is.

>Your options are /seriously/ limited and your chances almost void, but maybe you could
come up with a miracle? (Write-In)
>Just run.

>>4688482
>Your options are /seriously/ limited and your chances almost void, but maybe you could come up with a miracle? (Write-In)

I'm gonna git that sweet tight black hole.

>>4688496
You know what I'm talking, peaceful.
That dark little swirl that just keeps on sucking.

>>4688504
>>4688496
The good midnight grip, that keeps on squeezing and squeezing.

>>4688519
>>4688504
>>4688496
I'm talking about gravity powers baby!

>>4688519
my elegant african american gentlemen who you assfuckin

>>4688523
oh ok

>>4688527
>>4688524
>HAH GOT'EM

I'm just messing with you man. I've been waiting to make that joke for a while. I'll let someone else decide a write-in.

>>4688533
it's pretty much just a stop at a dead end desu, like it would take some really 5D chess shit to win this
just roll out whatever

>>4688539
Alright then.

>Call out for Raya

Just a note. Seems like there's not a lot of...consequences from our particular choices? Like, this seems pretty...dialed in. I don't want to say the Dreaded Word just yet, but I'm just noticing. Is that just me?

>>4688597
nigga i gave you niggas like twenty hundred chances to run. im too lazy to railroad, now give me something to write.

>>4688482
>Your options are /seriously/ limited and your chances almost void, but maybe you could come up with a miracle? (Write-In)
Pray for the local variety of the Blessed Lady or whatever. Shit's fucked. We are not running away.

The sound of metal crushing wood and rock is thunderous; down below, it's like a forge that's
forging battle itself. Just the knockback of any of the hits Beck takes and delivers would
shatter the bones of any adult you've ever met, but she shares them gracefully and without
pause.

>>4688615
>Pray for the local variety of the Blessed Lady or whatever. Shit's fucked. We are not running
away.

You look for saints around to pray to, yet though the catedral has many you don't
remember any of them. You pray to God, fingers crossed, as Scarfs fails to stab Beck
and Ribbon watches. You pray /hard/- but what is to pray hard? To scream inside your own
head, as hard as you can?

"Huh?!" Scarfs yells as Beck somersaults over her minions directly onto her-

booom

-but when the dust clears, Beck's tonfa is buried deep in what you could only define as 'a
tower'.

"...damn."

You only realize praying doesn't work when you see the rusty broadsword coming out of Beck's
back. Who drops the only tonfa still at hand and falls to her knees.

The Magical Girl of Chess and Scarfs appears out of the dust, walking circles around her.

"Beck, Beck, Beck, Beck," she says, over and over, slower each time.

When Beck turns to look, she finds the pendant- your pendant, your soul gem- right in
front of her eyes.

"I don't know what to think, Beck," says Scarfs, her voice slow and coarse. "That you were
willing to sacrifice this girl to deny Anne salvation or that you were stupid enough to
forget this little gem."

Beck just looks, gasping slowly.

Scarfs stops in front of her. "Maybe you could thank me for stopping you from killing the
person you were trying to save. Or maybe you thought soul gems can't spawn Witches when
the user is in a coma."

Beck doesn't even react.

"So you at least had a plan," Scarfs admits, spawning another sword. "I hope you have
another."

>>4688587
>Call out for Raya

Your lungs are empty. The world still bounces- and everyone else is frozen. Frantically, both
Scarfs and Ribbon draw their weapons and look around, silent and at the ready; even the
green girl took action by hiding.

A while passes. Nothing happens.

"She just remembered the name," says Ribbon. "For sure, she doesn't even know about her."

From the corner of your eye, you notice Beck trying to stand with the same wound you bear.

"It's hopeless. Stop," demands Scarfs... who is, this time, the one that finds a soul gem right in
from of her face.

"No Witch comes out of shards," says Beck, then finally stands on both legs.

"Suicide. Interesting."

"Her time is up too," says Beck, pointing at you from below. "I die, she dies. Anne dies."

Any tone of arrogant evil genius is now gone from Scarfs's face. Even all of her familiars take
a step back. Even Ribbon is holding onto the railing now.

"So what do you want? Else you would have done it already," Scarfs asks.

Everything is fading.

(cont!)

Beck's gem is tainted black- Beck's gem is blacker than yours. Even after this absurd
series of traumatic events, Beck's soul gem hold more impurity than yours- if it was red,
then you can barely tell.

And she's barely standing.

"Do you even have a plan, girl?" Ribbon asks from above, her voice sounding further at each
word. "If that keeps getting dark then all we have to do is wait."

"You seem... proud..." babbles Beck, "of having left your humanity behind..."

"We aren't humans," says Ribbon.

"We are Magical Girls, " says Scarfs.

"Glad to see... you at least still get along... with each other," musters Beck, then finally bends
the knee.

Neither of the Magical Girls say a words as she stands back.

"Give that girl... that innocent girl... her gem back."

Scarfs tosses your gem at her friend without even turning to look.

"She's going to die anyway. What else?"

Beck points at the green girl.

"Tell Aloe... to take the girl to Raya."

"And why wouldn't you just crush your gem after that?"

Beck shrugs, then smiles. "I want Anne to live too."

You don't know who's saying what anymore. You are too busy convincing yourself that the
cold of the floor is from the cold breeze of the afternoon. The last sound you hear, you can't
relate it to anything else you remember. The last you see is green.

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aight guys, bit of an afterword. first, i fucked up and wrote that Beck was heading for the hole on the roof that Golden left behind- when they are in a fucking factory lol. same happened again with the second floor. that's retconned.

second, i aint railroading. in fact, i got stuck an hour thinking cuz i didn't know what the fuck to do. the idea was to show how hard its to make do with good will alone, when you lack raw power, but maybe i went overboard and fucked that up lol

third, i did my best. im just writing out of my ass, which is a fair warning for everyone expecting structure. i hope you had fun, and if this keeps going ill get better.

>>4688685
I think it's totally fine at the start. We barely know the character, we explore the world as you present it. If MC dies, then another (true) MC can pop up and investigate/avenge/do something with what happened here. As far as I can see, we're still looking around and exploring.
But players want their choices to matter and when you start with MC basically looking at the gallows, there aren't a lot of choices to make and those that you make can realistically have no impact. The plot happens to our MC, while most of the other characters have some meaningful choices to make: do you murder an innocent to save your sister? Do you stop your friend from doing something they will regret? Do you act as a leader and protect your friends by killing someone even if the people you protect come to despise you?
I think it'll be ok when your plot comes to giving something for MC to work with.

>>4688721
the core of MC's choices so far were 'do i run away or do i try to reason with psychos', the latter of which is always hard. or at least that was the idea lol. a few examples:
giving your soul gem to beck is what got her to trust you, and to defend you in the end
taking her offer to leave when golden came to defend you, even though horrible and highly immoral, would have left Scarfs satisfied and Beck to protect you
telling beck to apologize would have given you room to reason with the nutjobs
and at this point you were already fucked

i tried to give a character without power meaningful choices. it ain't easy. just call bullshit, ill listen

Right before you die, you see your whole life flash before your eyes; that's what they say.

There isn't much to see. After all, you are thirteen years old, barely. Your early ages were
spent in poverty, living with your father, the living irony of a man that cursed a lot, never
wore a shirt to anywhere but quit smoking to treat you like a princess. He'd chase you
around the house wearing a stolen transit cone you used to be afraid of.

Then your mother came, and you never saw your dad again. He was replaced. You got a
new brother, a brother that screaming late into the night. But when you told your mom that you
couldn't sleep, she scoffed.

And at school, it was the same. As if you spoke a different language. Then the bullying started,
the theft started, the low grades started, the scolding started. Your only friends were the
stray cats you found, some of which you never met again, wondering why. And during your
only moment of solace, buried in the dark of your room, your brother was partying hard.

It never got any better.

Then, one day, you found a cat... but this one was different. It wasn't exactly a cat. It wasn't
exactly a weasel either. You thought it was because of the pills they gave you to drink that
the cat looked so funny

until it started talking.

"Make a contract with me!" it told you. It told you to fight Witches for it, that Witches ate stray
cats. You were already on the boat, but then it told you that you could ask a wish, that you
could ask for anything on the world in exchange for your service. It was unreal; but maybe it was
all in your head. And you were still shaking after
your step-father slapped you, the first time
anyone ever did.

You asked for peace.

(cont!)

Like pulling back curtains made of chains, you open your eyes; a dream-catcher greets you
made of feathers. The brown wooden ceiling shines bright with wax; the faint smell of cat
turds wakes you up.

You glance at the culprit; a big one. Staring right at your eyes, it just buries the deed with its
paws with tiny white pebbles. It leaves the litter box in disarray as it vanishes at the door.

You look at your arms and legs; no ropes. You touch your chest where the blade went; nothing
other than a scar.

"Good morning-"

You yelp /hard/, startled.

"Or should I say, good night," it proceeds, and you don't remember it, "because it's night."

That soothing, sweet voice stretches words farther than any other. The room is completely
dark, so you make out nothing but a black blob of darkness when you stare at where it comes
from. Instantly, it turns into someone sitting on a chair, as the lights are turned on.

You let your eyes rest on the shape to take all of its colors, like a camera gaining focus.

It's Aloe.

"Good job, Weird Eyes."

Right as you /flip your shit/ someone grabs you by the arm, holding you down.

"Hey h-hey! Calm down!," it tells you. "You are safe. Look. Look! You are safe."

When it finally pins you down to the bed, the hands on your arms gently let go of their
weight. When you look up, your eyes meet head on with the Weird Eyes, weird eyes on a
very pretty woman, with short, truly golden hair.

She just looks at you.

And when you start bawling the fuck out, she holds you on her chest and pats your head.

"There, there. Good girl," she says, her voice cheery but bit too loud. "You did your best,
didn't you? I know you did your best."

You'd stay there /forever/- but then you remember Aloe. When you turn to her, tears on
your eyes, the Magical Girl simply kicks the air from the chair she's sitting on.

"I'm backstabbing Scarfs," Aloe announces, her coldness reminding you of Scarfs herself. "Me
being here is proof enough. Don't be afraid of me."

You can't be sure, yet; what if this is all a trap? A trick to make you despair?

"If Aloe tries anything I'll steal her nose," Weird Eyes tells you. "Without her nose, she won't be
able to breathe and die."

"I could still breathe from my mouth."

"I could steal your mouth too."

Aloe chuckles- then Weird Eyes pouts.

"Just look at the weird kind of stuff this kinder-gardener is making me say, er... how was your
name again?" the pretty woman scratches her golden hair.

"She still doesn't have an alias," Aloe tells her. "You," Aloe tells you, with force. "Ask me
questions, now. Or the fear will build up impurities on your soul gem."

Whatever the case, there was something very, very wrong about Beck's team from the start.

Beck...
>>Pick three.
>Ask what happened to Beck.
>Ask how you ended up here.
>Ask why and what does it mean to betray Scarfs.
>Ask how to transform.
>Ask about Weird Eyes.
>Ask about your wound.
>Ask where you are right now.
>I have another doubt. (Write-In)

>>4689441
>Ask how to transform.
>Ask about Weird Eyes.
>I have another doubt. (Write-In)
"Am I weird, too?"

Does our character know how long she's been a magical girl? Has she just met the cat and stumbled in this situation?

>Ask what happened to Beck.
>Ask where you are right now.
>Ask how to transform.

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>>4689441
>Ask what happened to Beck.
>Ask why and what does it mean to betray Scarfs.
>Ask how to transform.

fun stuff OP, just a heads up your formatting is killer to read on desktop. Not sure what word processor you're using (mobile posting?) but I'd recommend not using linebreaks mid-sentence. Neat premise and execution though, keep it up.

>>4689441
>Ask about Weird Eyes.
>Ask how to transform.
>Ask where you are right now.

>>4688947 #
Damn, when reading I only really thought about how absurd the things around us are, and how to act most according to our simple mind in this situation e.g. laugh at them. Turns out we need to be careful about everything.

Also, could you give me a rundown of how people look and what their names are, I'm just a bit retarded and got lost in that. I understand the team of the girls we've met consists of four, except for Anne, one of whom is Beck, the other two checkerboard-style sisters Scarfs and White Hair (Ribbon?). The last member is the green-haired shy girl (Aloe?). And Golden = Emerald Hood (?) was the girl that was trespassing and trying to rescue us?
>>4689441 #
>Ask what happened to Beck.
>Ask why and what does it mean to betray Scarfs.
>Ask about Weird Eyes.

>Ask how to transform IIII
>Ask about Weird Eyes III
>Ask what happened to Beck III
>Ask where you are right now II
>Ask why and what does it mean to betray Scarfs. II

There's so much to ask, but you are seriously starting to wonder just how much you could bear to know. There's just so much truth anyone can handle at any given time- and you feel at the edge of the abyss.

>Ask how to transform.

You have to keep repeating yourself that you are a Magical Girl, because, like a japanese salaryman walking to a train, it just doesn't fit in your head yet. The definitive proof, the final push, you think, would be to transform; you need to accept this reality and fast.

"I recall our now-not-so-dear Scarfs telling you that it's second nature to us," Aloe says, and you wish she reminded you less of Scarfs. "I'll make my point. How do you move your arm?"

You move your arm.

"Good job, you moved it. Now, how did you do it?"

"I think we can talk without sounding condescending," Weird eyes interjects.

But it falls on deaf ears. You see Aloe's point, clearly... but what does it mean?

"There are plenty of theories we could come up with regarding your situation," Aloe says and you forget she's /a fucking teenager/, "nonetheless, they all would be meaningless without the basics. Tell me; what did you ask Kyubey for?"

Peace, you answer at once.
Then the final passenger finally fits, the door closes, and the train sets sail.

...fuck.

Even Aloe is finally showing some thrill, meager as it may be.

Who whistles. "That narrows it down," she says, her cute pomfy face still straight as the horizon. "You are the Magical Girl of Peace, then."

"The Magical Girl of Peace," Weird Eyes repeats, surprised. Then her eyebrows narrow down. "I'm sorry. It must have been very hard on you if that was your wish."

"Now is the time of theories, then. Exciting," she says, not seeming excited at all.

Aloe takes out your Soul Gem from somewhere under her hair, getting Weird Eyes to raise an eyebrow.

"Subtlety is safety," Aloe mumbles. "Have a look."

Your pink soul gem... is barely pink anymore. Just like Weird Eye's face, which is almost entirely white.

"Oh my god," she heaves. "Here?!"

That pretty woman slams the bedside table open so hard that the whole bed trembles.

"No seeds! No seeds!" she screams, flinging socks, panties, and both tarot and credit cards and many other things around the room in a frenzy. "No seeds!!"

You just swallow.

(cont!)

A Soul Gem absorbs despair, it absorbs suffering and turns black; but how much can it take?

"What in interesting individual," Aloe mentions as Weird Eyes has a melt-down and darts out of the room. "Then, if my theory is correct, your power should be that of granting peace both to yourself and, perhaps, others."

You don't need the explanation; not even Scarfs was able to make you suffer... ...you even laughed at Golden's death...

Aloe is simply watching as you delve. "Did you ask 'to be at peace', or did you ask for 'peace'?" she asks, her voice almost buried by the storm. "There would be differences."

You only recall saying 'peace'.

"Then we shall put my theory to the test," she says. "Weirdo; bring me your ass."

But Weird Eyes doesn't answer.

"I think I saw a Grief Seed under that boys love magazine over there," Aloe mentions casually.

WHAAAT?

Weird Eyes darts into the room with the subtlety of a rocket launcher hidden in a purse.

"Where?" Some red has come back to her face.

Then Aloe grabs your hand from behind, and grabs Weird's with your own.

...

Nothing. You blink. Aloe blinks. Weird Eyes blinks. Nobody moves.

"Are you hungry, um, Ms Peace?" Weird Eyes just asks.

"She's about to witch-out."

"That's really really bad," says the blonde, nodding once, then twice.

And nothing more. Slowly, just like Weird Eyes did with you, you let go of your grasp as you slide your hand across her arm. And when the contact is over, Weird Eyes reels back so hard that she falls on her chair and desktop PC.

"WAIT," she stands over her ruined setup, "The see-"

-but your pendant, your Soul Gem, is perfectly pink for once. Aloe shakes the Grief Seed like a bell... as it turns to dust in the air. Again, silence reigns.

"But- I thought I had none left," mumbles the weird girl.

"You didn't."

(cont!)

You try it again, and again, and again; even Aloe lets you try it on her. Whenever you touch
any of them /directly/ with your hands, they become completely compliant and, as Aloe
described, "immune to negative thoughts".

"If I had to compare this phenomena with any other," Aloe said, "it would be to that of the effect of psychiatric pills".

And Weird Eyes said what you were thinking: "...aren't you too young to know that stuff?"

So that's it. That's your power. But when you touch your own arm, nothing happens.

>Ask about Weird Eyes III

Her room being, by most definitions, totalled, your new blonde buddy took things to the
humble wooden table at the kitchen, where the three of you are having tea. You are still coming
to terms with your own power, but it makes sense. It blocks negative thoughts. And you
couldn't remember anything.

"Man, what a ride," says Weird Eyes, sighing. "I know you want to learn stuff about people, but
making me panic doesn't count as field research, you know."

You decide you had your share of attention and ask Weird Eyes about her.

Who smiles warmly at you. Despite her eyes, she's like an angel. "I'm a Magical Girl too, you know, unless at some point you turn into a Magical Woman which would make sense."

"It doesn't, and the line between 'girl' and 'woman' is too vague."

"I don't care," Weird Eyes shrugs Aloe off, slurping tea so fast even though it seems too hot for you. "How old do you think I am, umm..."

Aloe glances at you; you know what she's getting at. But when you open your mouth, it finds a finger.

"No real names," says Aloe. "You don't want to be tracked." And before you say anything else; "we'll explain later. Consider the consequences."

Time for an alias.
>Angelheart sounds good.
>Peacemaker would make sense.
>Friend seems to stick.
>Goofy TurboMcFuckFace.
>Write In.

>>4689476
yes, and yes. it's barely been a day.

>>4689481
how about now

>>4689501
you didnt get lost in anything, i deliberately avoided being too specific with descriptions because fuck that, any Beck in your head is valid
the first team, now disbanded, was Scarfs, Ribbon, Aloe, Beck, and Anne, who was about to witch out
golden (emerald hood) was in raya's team. she tried to save you.
as for the rundown, i dunno man, would you guys rather i let it vague or at least give them some details?

>>4689595
>Peacemaker would make sense.
Peace, by any means necessary.

>Hush
Also good.

>>4689600
I like it vague.

>>4689595
>Peace
Peacemaker just seems like too long of a word.
>>4689600
It's fine, I had trouble not with appearances specifically, but with linking who did what and how their initial names switched with real ones, like how the girl we initially called White Hair is actually called Ribbon.

gonna wait a bit longer for this one
>>4689683
oh yeah im kinda messy when it comes to that
ill make it more dramatic next time

oh well

guess its rng time. rolling with
1: Peace
2: Peacemaker
3: Hush
in twenty if no other vote comes out. gotta sleep early

>>4689595
>>Goofy TurboMcFuckFace.

Rolled 3 (1d3)

>>4689962
too late mein negga.

>>4689648
>Hush

A lullaby is stuck in your head, a happy little song your father used to sing to make you sleep. He butchered it over and over to add insults at every turn, making you laugh until you got tired and slept. Hush little baby, don't say a word... just thinking about it is soothing enough.

"Hush," says Weird Eyes, and her weird eyes dart up. Then she grins. "Right, it makes sense."

"It is what she does. It fits," Aloe says.

"So, Hush;" Weird Eyes resumes, not letting go of her prey, "how old do you think I am?"

You hesitate. Some people want to look older, some want to look younger- and then there's this blonde lady, who could be any of those. You just do what you do and say what you think.

Who laughs heartily.

"Saying eighty is playing it safe, you know?" she teases you. "A twenty and a one. Twenty one."

"The oldest Magical Girl you'll ever meet," says Aloe.

The blonde flings her fringe aside with pride.

"And the horniest," Aloe adds.

Who slams an elbow on the table, clawing her hair.

"Why, why, whyyyy," pleads Weird Eyes in vain. "That sentence was good enough already, it was already good, whyyy"

"It was missing the cherry on top," says Aloe mindlessly, accidentally drinking from your tea without noticing. "Weird Eyes here is one of our veterans, already going soft with age."

"I'm getting called soft and a pervert by someone half my age and stature."

"She's a healer," resumes Aloe, "and belongs to no faction, which is why I brought you here."

"Wait, let me say this part," interrupts the blonde. "Tea?"

"Yes."

You ask for more, and please. As it's poured, you watch the tiny waterfall of tea intently.

"I love cats," says Weird Eyes. "And I used to love them a lot more. Do you like cats?"

You nod and nod and nod. Cats are the best.

"My wish was..." the blonde fidgets with her fingers, then takes a quick sip of tea. Even a decade later, it must be hard to talk about it. "...to save my cat. Who had just been rolled over by a car." You flinch at the picture in your mind. "Which I'm dead sure Kyubey itself was driving."

"That's fantasy," Aloe says.

"Shut uuuuup," Weird Eyes says pouting just too much. "Anyway, my wish was to save my cat. Who got rolled over by an ambulance a mere week later after I took down my first Witch. The irony," she shakes her head, but her weird eyes don't falter. "To cut it short, I cure people by turning them into cats. Yup." She claps suddenly, going hyper. "So congratulations, you are three percent cat!"

...you don't know what to make out of that.

"Three percent nekomimi," Weird Eyes clarifies, "with the big ears and everything. 3% of that, so of course you can't tell yet."

You ask Weird Eyes why she doesn't look like a cat yet then.

"I'm sure our rookie here can figure it out herself," says Aloe.

"You are a rookie too," the blonde points out in force. "I can't heal myself. That's how works."

"I told you to let her figure it out."

"And I didn't want to do it."

(cont!)

>Ask what happened to Beck

As they keep going back and forth, your mind goes back to Beck's last stand. You don't know how long she's been team-mates with Scarfs and Ribbon. You don't know if she had to fight life-long friends.

Now that your memory isn't blocked anymore the void in your head is sucking you in. You are falling inside.

"Hush?" And it's Weird Eyes who brings you back in. You can tell the concern; she seems easy to read. "Are you feeling sleepy?"

Aloe realizes she's been drinking your tea. "She's remembering. Now that her memory isn't blocked anymore, Hush is dealing with all the weight at once."

When Weird Eyes looks back at you, you don't. Your cup of tea is completely empty.

"You are thinking about Beck and Golden," Aloe states with simplicity.

And you nod, crying very hard. It's before you notice that you are basking in the warmth of Weird Eyes's hug, who's kneeling next to you. She waits until you are done sobbing, then you thank her.

"Look..." says Weird eyes, sitting next to your chair like a cat instead of going back to hers. "Aloe will agree with this; when it comes to bad memories, you need closure as fast as you can. Those are holes that fill your head with mud. Always leave things clear, in your head. Right?"

You nod, mumbling 'right' too.

"Good. Look. Golden and Beck... this may sound rough, but it's the pure truth. They didn't fight for you. They didn't fight to save you. They fought for something much, much bigger. Do you know what that is?"

You have many answers dancing in your head, but you want the one that kept her going for a decade.

"Doing the right thing." After making that sentence, Weird Eyes stops to look at yours. "It sounds so cliche, right? I'm kinda cliche, really. Aloe, you say a word and I swear to God I'll bite you."

Aloe merely chuckles.

"We live to be happy, Hush. That's it. That's how it works," Weird Eyes says, caressing your cheeks gently. "There is no point in living by destroying what makes you happy. And that's what they fought."

You ask what they fought for.

"Another human." The answer, so simply, still leaves you wonderings. "That's why I retired. One day, I'll run out of Grief Seeds and that will be it. Until then, I'm having tea with my friends."

(cont!)

You and Weird Eyes walk Aloe to the door, who tripped on a black bag full of trash. The tall veteran has let you stay the night, because you worried that the waterfall of shit that was this day, plus your mother being dense, would make you witch-out and eat your step-brother and all his friends at once.

"There's a drought going on," explains Aloe, next to the door. "A drought of Witches. We thought it low tide at first, but it has been a full season, and fearing the drought makes impurities gather all the easier."

You don't answer. You came into the Magical Girl's world at a very bad time, from the pan and into the fire.

Aloe looks at you. "I don't know your plan, Hush, or if you have one, but you can't fight. Not yet at least; you can't gather Grief Seeds on your own."

You ask Aloe why she gave you hers if there's a drought going on.

"Call it self-punishment for staying idle while evil was being spread," she says. "And this way, I'm proving myself different to Scarfs."

"Oh I see, winning points with me," Weird Eyes winks.

"In a way, yes," Aloe admits, "since now I expect to be chopped in half."

Even Weird Eyes grimaces. You ask Aloe, then, why she didn't give the Grief Seed to Anne.

"I want to live." And that's all she leaves hanging in the wind.

As the door closes behind her, Weird Eyes sighs, this time too loudly.

"You know, Magical Girls used to be a much more lively bunch," she says fast and loud, as if complaining. "We'd always talk about justice and stuff and join hands and save people, and it was nice." She gets stuck in the past for a while. "The few remaining ones are almost all cold and smart and calculating, highly effective, very boring."

"I still hear you," says the door.

"Maybe we could change the tides," the blonde tells you, cheerfully, "even if there aren't that many witches to save people from now."

>>4689476
You ask Weird Eyes if you are weird too, which seems to take her off-guard. But then she beams up.

"You aren't weird, you are a special case!" she says, lifting both arms, which is so much that you feel embarrassed. "The first Magical Girl without a costume. Or a weapon. Or maybe that's your costume? That what is your weapon?"

She studies you from feet to toe with those eyes, scratching her chin. Then she shrugs.

"Maybe you are just a late bloomer." Then she heads for the fridge. "Ever had beer?"

You remember what Aloe called her and dread.

guess what you fucks, you are finally getting some of those meaningful choices you wrote on your christmas cards. had to set the tone now, and you can see why. anyway, hows the format? is this better than the line breaks??

another meaningful detail i forgot to add; Aloe told you that she didn't see what happened to Beck as she left before with you, but that it would be utterly insane to think she survived.
i'll mention this in the story at a later point.

>>4690037
I can't complain, this is pretty good and also better without extra line breaks.
Thanks for running!

>>4690037
Better work on your grammar.

>>4690068
np dog

>>4690222
fingers still rusty. pimpin ain't easy

postan hour n half

You politely declined Weird Eyes's offer to sleep on the same bed, on the grounds that you are a big girl already. Which you aren't, really. Not when Aloe is even younger than you. The reality, however, is that the computer had survived Weird Eye's butt, and, when you got to use it, only typing 'g' on the search bar erased all doubt on Aloe calling the blonde a pervert being a joke. Aloe's humor, apparently, is simply telling the truth.

Witches.

You find yourself in a strange bed, in a strange room, in a strange situation. All the distractions are gone, and finally your fears and doubts sink their claws in you as you stare at the darkness of the ceiling.

But at least it's quiet.

A Witch. You are going to turn into a Witch, and be eaten by Aloe and Weird Eyes. Not knowing how a Witch looks like, you settle for assuming that they look like the dark version of a Magical Girl, with horns and tiny black wings, and ignoring your head. It's a patch, and you know that. But there's too much to swallow.

(cont!)

You claw your way out of the bed. Morning light makes its way through the crevasses of the rolling curtain, showing you the room you couldn't see the night before. Your eyes widen softly at the mannequins and wood and canvas, and the charming mess of colors that is the floor. In a way, it's funny. You let yourself smile.

As you open the door to the living room and the light makes you frown you feel as if you have spent the whole night thinking, not sleeping, even though you don't remember Weird Eyes getting up to cook.

"Moorning, Hush" she greets you with a spatula over her shoulder, not turning to look. "I hope you like pancakes."

You simply do.

"Be a sweetie and open that bottle for me, would you?" It's beer. Beer again. "Think you can make it? That's where I get my magic from."

The fact that you can't tell if that's a joke or not speaks volume of how far you still are from reality... which leaves you staring at the floor. However, at the very least, you can open that bottle. Yes, sir; that bottle has got nothing on you.

You open it so well and so fast, that it falls sideways on the table. When it rolls all the way to the floor, you still haven't reacted. White Eyes is already there, watching as you tremble.

"I'd lick the floor if you weren't here," she mumbles, but- "Wait, are you crying?!"

And you are, yet again.

"Oh, no, sugar, why are you crying?"

You look away from her, bur White Eyes chases you around. She's so insistent, and so dorky, that you end up chuckling in tears. There aren't napkins on the table, so she cleans your face with her own sleeve.

"You are, like... the complete opposite of Aloe, wow" she mentions casually. "Do you like movies? We could watch movies before you go, I can't move much from here because Magical Girls could need like right now, but maybe one day I could show you around."

She frowns and pouts.

"And I love going out," she complains to fate, then spits air as her sleeve gets into your nose. "You get what you can take. Right?"

You nod, a bit less of a mess than a minute earlier. Right. Before you get the chance to feel shame, she's back with pancakes. The pancakes... are kinda charred.

"Just cut the black part out with a knife, like this," the blonde says, cutting like a third of her whole pancake. You wish you could do that with a Soul Gem. "I can make you burgers too if you want."

You thank her from bottom of your heart and decline firmly. You don't know what happens when people swallows charcoal. Apparently they live, judging from her.

You chew in peace.

(cont!)

Instead of watching movies, however, you both end up reviewing your situation in a council-of-war kind of thing. Last night, Weird Eyes told you to face your fears quickly, to not let them fester in your mind, which is also why Aloe rushed you to ask her questions. You took her to heart.

Of course, there's tea on the table.

"Right," says Weird Eyes, firmly, "you got no firepower. Or maybe you do, but we can't until you transform, so lets go with what we have."

You nod.

"You can't kill Witches," she mentions, wondering, her face twisting, "which is kind of bad now that I think of it. But don't worry, it's ok, we'll find a way to fit you in."

It's hard not to worry.

Weird Eyes pours beer into her tea. "I made do for many years by putting girls back into shape, as you know very well. It's not only your Grief Seed that you have to worry about- we girls have plenty of needs." She drinks it. She drinks the thing. "And I'm not the only healer either, so there's business as you can see. I'm just the only healer anyone can come to see."

You are still staring at her tea, wondering how it tastes, and if beer really is how she turns people into cats. Then faintly, you hear someone talking. It's a girl. You hear her say 'oniii-chan', 'oniiii-chan!', 'onii-chaaaan' in various tones until Weird Eyes picks up the phone.

"Helloooo, heloooo," but then she stares at the screen. "I called on accident," the blonde says without rhythm. "Tell Hush to grab your hand and ask you questions." Her weird eyes dim at the screen. "Oh it's Aloe, what do you know. She told me to tell you that-"

You tell Weird Eyes that she was reading out loud.

Who tilts her head sideways. "Really? Wow, is that old age? ...a-anyway, let's do what she says, Aloe a really smart cookie."

Yet you look at the side, red. Why the hand?

You don't see the point in this, but neither the harm.

Pick one.
>>Ask Weird Eyes:
>...about Aloe.
>...about you.
>...about the drought.
>...about her past.
>...about her search results
>Write In

>>4690795
>>Ask Weird Eyes:
>...about Aloe.
She's one of our precious few allies, after all.

>>4690795
>...about her search results

>>4690795
>>...about Aloe.

>>4690821
>>4690872

But there /is/ someone you'd like to know more about, and that's Aloe. Someone like her ended up with someone like Scarfs; you need to know why. So you apologize in advance and place your hand on the table, stuck between laughing it off or looking to the side, dreading to say something stupid. But Weird Eyes? She just smiles and grabs it. Human warmth is something new.

As soon as she does, her face changes. You aren't sure how, but you feel the difference. You find yourself a bit too red to talk, though- until her browser history comes to mind.

"Aloe? Oh, you mean in general," says Weird Eyes, and yet, it's like someone else talking. "Where do I even start, there's so much! We met a year ago, less. At first, I thought she was clumsy. Then someone told me she would get hurt on purpose to come and see me and I thought she was creepy. Because it sounds romantic and all, but why would you even do that if all you do is sit there in silence, right? I mean, she'd just sit there and watch me, sometimes that girl didn't even answer my questions when I tried to come up with something to talk about. It was heavy and one day I couldn't take it anymore, but instead of asking 'what do you want' I asked 'why do you never talk'? And you know what she said? She said, 'i don't want to interrupt', I asked 'interrupt what?', 'you'. I thought she was flirting and well, I thought it was kinda cute that a girl so small had the gall, you know, but it turns out she's just as horrible at having tact as she's smart."

...You don't know what's going on.

"But she kept coming, you know? So I told her, one day, you don't need to get hurt to come and see me, just come. So she did, and I promised myself I'd made her talk and I did. But she never told me about her wish, all I know is that she uses gravity somehow because she made a girl shit herself by walking on the ceiling, I had to tell her to stay in my room during my appointments." Weird Eyes stops and stares, as if nothing could rush her. "Big mistake. And it was also a bother whenever I wanted to get it on with the ladies because she'd pop up out of nowhere, and I didn't want to say 'hey, I'm having sex, don't come' to a twelve years old psychopath who may or may not have fallen in love with me."

You really, really, really wonder if letting her go on is the moral thing to do.

>Let her ramble, let it burn.
>You don't want to hear something you don't want to hear.

>>4690954
>Let her ramble, let it burn.
I know you're giving us a warning and prompt, but, well, what can you do?

>>4690954
>You don't want to hear something you don't want to hear.
Sorry for the late replies when there's so few players, QM. You just literally begin running at midnight in my timezone and there's so long I can fight off sleep lmao.

>>4690954
>You don't want to hear something you don't want to hear.
If she wants to talk, that's fine, but whether she wants to tell everything and then some because of 'peace' is another question.

>>4691335
>>4691340
>You don't want to hear something you don't want to hear.

"And even thought she fits nowhere I can't get that little monster out of my head. It drives me nuts, what am I, her big sis, her mom, her friend, her 'senpai', her girlfriend-"

You let go of her hand, and admire, almost in awe, how her features go back to normal. It's a slow process.

Once finally normal, Weird Eyes instantly slaps her face out of sight with both hands.

"Youh canh mhakeh pehopleh shay what thehy thihnk," you barely make out a muffled chain of sounds. "Youh canh mhakeh pehopleh shay what thehy thihnk," she repeats.

You look at your hands. Why?

Weird Eyes comes out of her cave, but not before peeking a few times over. Surprisingly, the blonde is pale, not red as you thought. You let her be at peace, but...

"I need you to grab my hand and ask me if I ever did anything to Aloe," Weird Eyes asks, shaken, but barely.

You oblige. You grab her hand and ask the question.

"I touched her chest one time while she was asleep, except that Aloe wasn't asleep, Aloe was awake and pretending. I didn't want anything other than to hear her heart beat, but she still gives me crap about it to this day. I did nothing else, besides messing with her cheeks because she hates it."

You let go. Enough is enough.

"...And you know, I had forgotten about that part. And I even tried to not tell you anything. Wow," Weird Eyes admits, "that's.. some power, you have."

You can make people, or at least Magical Girls, tell the truth- their truth.

"Hush, for your sake, I will have to be honest with you," Weird Eyes says, gently drawing your attention. "I'm not all rays and sunshine. That's how it is. And I'm sure that, except for Aloe, most of the Magical Girls you'll find will have their secrets. Some of which could be dangerous to know."

You are just now aware that Weird Eyes can actually sound serious. But like a thunder, you couldn't even when it ended. Because she's on her knees next to you.

"pleeeeeeease, pleeeease don't tell Aloe, aaaaaa," Weird Eyes BEGS,rocking her head back and forth as if she was praying. "i'll do anything, I'll turn into a pancake, pleasee"

You actually laugh, then tell her that you hadn't figured out she liked Aloe until this just now.

To which she just looks at you, as if tired of existing. "So I fu- I screwed myself over," Weird Eyes says, nodding. "It's not that I /like/ her, we are a whole decade apart and she's pretty much a kid, it's just that I'm a mess and things are good and I don't want anything to change."

This time it's you that pats her head, over and over. You tell her you understand. Even though, maybe, you don't, she seems comfortable to think so.

(cont!)

"Now we knowwhatyoucando," Weird Eyes states, a whole pancake still in her mouth. She swallows... the whole thing at once, which is unsettling to watch. "You can make people tell the truth and you can make people quiet. That's good stuff. We can work with that."

Which is reassuring to hear, since you don't think your power would kill Witches or even hurt them. Weird Eyes is rocking her fist back and fort in front of her mouth, gently, as if trying to get her teeth back in place. She's thinking.

Onii-chan, oniii-cha- The blonde picks up the phone, then hangs up seconds later.

"I called on accident," she reads, "how did it went?"

She pouts so hard that you point and laugh at her hysterically, which you instantly regret.

The blonde doesn't seem to mind, though. "It worked; send," she answer, not looking at you. Then she looks at you pleadingly, but you just pat her again. It's enough. "I don't know how you'd like to go about it, but for now we could offer your services and see what happens, make a name for you out there."

You wonder if that would be dangerous, considering your power.

"Well, I guess it could be," Weird Eyes says, "but I'm not sure you'd be able to keep it a secret unless they hire you directly and keep you in a basement or somethi-"

Oniii-

"Peace magic blocks negative thoughts, leaving the rest to flow freely into the mind," you wonder if Weird Eyes knows she's reading out loud. "What did you tell her?" She scratches her chin as, on a whim, you focus on her eyes. So strange... "Alright Hush, let's make this believable. I'm kinda racist and I hate poor people, send."

You ask her if she really does.

"Of course nor," she answers with a simple smile. "Now why don't we get you some test customers? What do you say?"

You aren't sure about this yet. Working from the shadows could be safer, and, so far, your power makes you feel that safety is something you'll need in spades. If people can't reach out to you, they can't chase you.

"Don't worry, I swear these are safe," Weird Eyes calms you. "Totally good girls, and at worst you'll turn into a rumor."

It still worries you, but maybe you worry too much.
>Accept
>Decline
>Ask Aloe

>>4691895
>Accept
Weird Eyes seems perfectly fine healing randos, we'll probably be alright as well.

>>4691895
>Accept

What's the worst that could happen, right? If Hush only needs to touch them and doesn't really need to hear them, then some unholy hybrid of a confession booth and a hole for her, uh... hand can be made. Some extra hearing protection can be easily procured.

>>4691904
>>4691907
is this samefag

>>4691335
oh crap thats a good point, well i pretty much can run at any time because its my last year at college so you guys give me your schedules and ill work something out

writtan in a half

File: no.png (72 KB, 913x423)

72 KB PNG

>>4691916
No? But I am in Eastern Europe.

>>4691904
>>4691907

The reality you find is that there will always be things that you don't know. Maybe Weird Eyes is secretly siding with Scarfs, maybe Aloe made other magical girls witch-out too, maybe Beck is still alive somewhere. There is a possibility for every star and you will always find another

but, at some point, you have to trust

and what matters is at which point.

You accept on the grounds that Weird Eyes has been around for a lot longer than most Magical Girls, dealing with customers; you decide to bet on that point. Stilll... you are a bit afraid of reactions.

"Oh don't worry about that, I'm here," she says beaming up, but then wonders. "Unless you'd rather I don't be? Maybe they won't want me hearing their secrets. Even though I already know so many of them."

She shrugs.

"Oh, well. We'll just start low, then," Weird Eyes decides for you, and gets her phone out for the third time in a row. "Helloooo-"

(cont!)

The next hour is spent in the couch, having tea and fries (at the same time?), watching a movie about a passionate man whose dream in life was to be punched in the face by the President.

"Wow, I wish the President would punch me in the face," said the veteran, "if the President was a cute girl."

You could even consider it, holding elections for Aloe...

Weird Eyes said there was nothing to do but wait, and so you did. That, something, doing nothing was extremely important. You still don't buy that part.

Oniiiiiiii- "click!"

"Finally. Lemmesee... oh wait, there's more, why didn't it oni-chan before-"

She spends some time reading carefully, and you spend some time just watching her. Weird Eyes is very pretty. Looking at her is nice.

"Alright! I'm letting you pick your first customer." Customer... "We got three. Pick whichever and don't worry, it'll be okay."

A customer... right... you will be helping people, that's great! But, what if your power doesn't help them? What if you do things wrong... you feel a hand on your shoulder.

"The pool doesn't get any less cold because you are gloomy," says the blonde in stride. "Time to jump in!"

You don't think that was the best way to put it, but good intentions always count.

Pick one!
>"We have these two that are always fighting, they answered at once but my phone didn't pick it up. They have a hard time trusting each other. We all do, lately."
>"This Magical Girl says she's been having sleep issues. Says she's always on the edge, but can't tell why. Seems like your thing."
>"Oh I know this one, what do you know. This Magical Girl wants to clear her name. The story goes they saw her kicking a cat, and thus her nickname became 'the Catter'."

>>4692024
>"This Magical Girl says she's been having sleep issues. Says she's always on the edge, but can't tell why. Seems like your thing."
>>4691916
I'm pretty much free anytime except morning at utc+3 since I dropped out, but it'll be a pain in the ass to organize running times with a lot of anons once the quest picks up pace, so keep posting whenever it's convenient for you. Also maybe take breaks, you've been multi-updating every day, it's not bad, but we don't want you burning out on us like so many others.

>>4692024
>"This Magical Girl says she's been having sleep issues. Says she's always on the edge, but can't tell why. Seems like your thing."

Can't cure the rumors, can probably spoil relationship by dropping truth bombshells.

>>4692048
Breaks are important, OP. Please consider taking them.

>>4692024
>"This Magical Girl says she's been having sleep issues. Says she's always on the edge, but can't tell why. Seems like your thing
Yeah the most important thing is taking it easy so you don't burn out.

>>4692048
>>4692077
>>4692086
>"This Magical Girl says she's been having sleep issues. Says she's always on the edge, but can't tell why. Seems like your thing."

Empathy isn't as easy as most people make it out to be. To understand why something makes someone suffer is something impossible without suffering it yourself first.

You more than anyone know what it's like to not sleep.

"Alright, then. I just hope it's nothing too heavy," says Weird Eyes. "Magical Girls as a bunch, we all have problems inside. In the head." She points at it, and you nod just in case. "I'll make the call."

You faintly make out the ringing tone as Weird Eyes puts the cellphone on her ear.

"Helloooo. Yeah, just come here. How much? Do you have any of those little tomatoes? Cherry tomatoes, I think? Can you bring me some?" She stops to hear. "Beer it is, then." She stops to hear again. "Beer has water too, I think. And it's not like I don't drink water." Then she stops again. "Then I'll drink to forget that."

She hangs up with a grin and then winks at you.

"On her way," Weird Eyes says. "Get ready."

But that only makes you more nervous.

"Oh, and I'll cover her expenses, just in case," Weird Eyes says. "The thing is, Grief Seeds aren't the usual currency anymore nowadays. You'll have to make do. But there's always enough when people don't want you to witch-out, so don't worry and just show what you are worth."

Even though you are nervous, coming from her, a Magical Girl who has spent maybe a decade doing exactly that, you finally let yourself be at peace. Without magic.

(cont!)

You weren't expecting any payment in the first place, since Aloe pretty much gambled her skin for yours, gave you a Grief Seed, and Weird Eyes saved your life. You have a hard time picturing yourself betraying them; that's one star you don't want to find.

With your help, mostly with your help, Weird Eyes has already set up the living room and it doesn't look like she hangs out with a hurricane anymore. You find a toothbrush under the sofa, wash it hard, and just leave it among the others.

Someone knocks on the door.

You swallow.

"Come in! Wait, it's locked," Weird Eyes corrects himself, then grabs the key from the wall.

The door opens. The first impression, which strikes you vividly, is that a jet fighter pilot crashed somewhere near and came to ask to use your phone. It wears a thick leather jacket, long black jeans, and a complex motorcycle helmet with led light lines that merge into other colors.

First thing it does is greet with her hand as high as she can. "Aioooo!" you hear from within the helmet as it shakes a bag with the other hand.

But, to your surprise, Weird Eyes doesn't answer at all. She just bites her lip.

"That didn't happen," Weird Eyes concludes. "I asked the cherry tomatoes as a joke so you'd bring me beer. That isn't beer. That's tomatoes. That don't even grow this time of the year. Who did you even-"

"Almost as if it was MAGIC," you hear someone say from somewhere, as the stranger lets itself in- spinning. Weird Eyes stops the Magical Girl before she trips on the cat, takes the bag from her, saying something very low under her breath as she heads for the kitchen. And that stranger, as if instructed, sits on her side of the table. The helmet is looking at you. Expecting.

"Hello!" she says, waving at you. "Come here, make friends!"

You greet her politely, just in case, and sit in front of her, praying for Weird Eyes to make it back quickly, gasping as someone shakes your hand.

"I'm Elizabeth Bradbury, the Magical Girl of the Void," thankfully, she's wearing leather gloves. "I have a motorcycle. Wanna see it? Wanna take a ride with me? Wait, give me a sec."

This girls talks so fast.

She takes off the helmet and it's like an endless waterfall of rainbows that just keep on falling. Mouth wide open, you watch that rainbow form into hair, hair of too many colors but none shining less than the other.

Wait, was that her real name?

"So what's your name?" Elizabeth asks.

But you can't get over that hair. Between Weird Eyes and her... you wonder how they slip by.

"What's your name?" she repeats, looking at you directly, but you feel none of the weight.

Hush, you reply. Drawing some of your inner strength, you look at her face.

A himecut, a clear line across her forehead. Glasses, surprisingly, and... bags under her eyes. Violet bags.

(cont!)

Elizabeth looks at you looking at her- quizzically. You snap out, almost by force, and greet her a second time. You tell her that you are Hush, apparently, the Magical Girl of Peace. You tell her you hope to be of service.

"Great!", Elizabeth says, pumping a fist up the hair. Weird Eyes had told you that Magical Girls are usually dark and serious, so you feel a bit betrayed. "Let's get started, then. Use your magic on me."

Huh? Just like that? Well; maybe it is like that. You look around; Weird Eyes is still in the kitchen. Doing what, you have no idea. But then again, this is your job, and Weird Eyes knows about your powers just as much as you do.

You tell Elizabeth to take off the gloves. She does. You tell her to grab your hand.

"Eyes is training you, I see!" she says suddenly, and her thunderous laughter takes you off-guard. "I can't believe it, an elementary student! Carrying on the flag!"

Red as the flag of Japan, you just mumble that that's just how your powers work. Maybe they'd work on her arm, too, but you feel that backing down now would be much worse.

"Fine! Hold hands with me, if that's your thing!" You think life is unfair. "Here."

The Magical Girl Rainbow Pilot of the Void grabs your hand from across the table, even eagerly. You overpower your embarrassment out of a sense of duty to intently study her every reaction. All she does... is close her eyes.

...

Yawn.

...

And snore. You watch, almost in terror.

"Wh

The next snore dwarfs both the first and whatever Weird Eyes felt necessary saying. Then, after a peaceful moment of respite, like the eye of the storm, comes another. And another.

By then, Weird Eyes is already next to you, shaking a hand in front of Elizabeth.

"...woooooooooow," Weird Eyes says, even poking her cheeks with a finger. "She's down. Down for the

The next snore is so powerful that Weird Eyes furrows her brow. But then, after a while, Elizabeth's face twists and turns into a little smile. You watch her not so humble chest slowly puff, and realize she's in peace.

"Weelll...." Weird Eyes finally says, "watchugonnado? You aren't going to stay holding her hand until midnight, are you?

You don't know what'll happen if you let go. And Elizabeth seems so peaceful.
>Let go of her hand.
>Wait a few hours.
>Wait until she awakens.

>>4692086
>>4692077
>>4692048
but im having fun lol
still, qst is slow as fuck so i wont worry much about a schedule, i'll just post whenever i see two of the same votes and that it
and dont worry, i wont post unless its fun

>>4692217
>Let go of her hand.
If she is asleep already, she may not wake up immediately. If she does, well, Hush can always try again, but get her in a more comfortable sleeping position first.

>>4692217
>Wait until she awakens.

>>4692223
As long as you are having a good time, godspeed anon.
>>4692260
Seconded.

>>4692260
>>4692950
>Let go of her hand.

You follow the trail of drool coming out of her mouth. Peace, in all it's glory. While the smile you drive out of this is born from kindness and not mockery, you wouldn't want to be left in that sorry state if that was you. Slowly just in case, you retrieve your hand from hers.

"I cannot believe it, Rainbows can actually stay in one place," Weird Eyes mumbles, "I lived enough to see it."

Rainbows. So she has an alias too. This one, you could have guessed.

The blonde sits and has tea in front of Elizabeth Rainbows while continuing to watch her. Raising an eyebrow, you ask her to help you bring your very sleeping customer to bed. But right as Weird Eyes is about to princess-lift her on her own, that peaceful face starts twitching.

And before manage a word, Rainbows screams and Weird Eyes screams and drops Rainbows on the floor and you scream a bit too.

Confusion ensues. Then Rainbows grabs her head, her endless rainbow hair splattered all over the floor.

"What the fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck," she complains solemnly, eyes all watery. "Why did you drop me, why did you do that, where were you taking me and whyyy didn't you!-"

"I was taking you to bed so you could sleep," says Weird Eyes with both hands on her waist, scoldingly. "Don't get the wrong idea."

"Take me out on a date first."

"Now you are just messing with me," Weird Eyes utters without mercy. "You had a nightmare, I got scared. Even Hush is afraid."

Of the blonde. You help Rainbows up by the arm and ask her how she feels.

"Bad," she answer, jumping suddenly to a stand. "Where am I?"

Your shoulders drop in worry.

"Wait, I remember," Rainbows claims, perking up but just barely. "You are Peace Girl. I came here to get fixed and laugh at that fiend over there."

You interrupt Weird Eyes to ask Rainbows if she remembers what she saw in that dream.

"I don't know, I can't remember, why?" she asks, maybe intrigued, maybe having a headache. "It's because your power is getting into dreams, right?"

You tell her no, and then consider that power for a second, and a second is enough to make you flinch. .

Watching you, Weird Eyes giggles silently "You have a strong imagination, right, Hush?" she mentions. "Anyway, try to answer her question. Don't you remember anything, at all?"

Rainbows's eyes squint. She looks angry. When you are about to grab onto Weird Eyes's arm, she says 'ooooooooh!' and goes hyper at once.

"Pens!"

(cont!)

"You see, there were pens. A lot of pens, like- two mountains! And there was something in between those, the mountains I mean. Me. I was there," she blurts out without stop, and it's like hearing any other dream ever. "But wait, there weren't pens first. I was on the road, I was riding that motorcycle from Akira, that japanese movie, and it was awesome! Then it rained, and it was pens."

She nods to herself, sagely, as if stumbling upon the /truth/. You, however, can't see it, and are left behind on the dark road.

"Pens, then," Weird Eyes repeats, scratching her chin with a white nail. "Hush, does that help you somehow?"

You wonder. She did wake up, after all, so the nightmare was strong. You ask Rainbow how long she's been awake before coming here.

"Less than a week," she says proudly, to your utter horror. "I take naps, though."

"-ing why?" Weird Eyes asks your question, shaking her head.

"Because unlike Ms.Neutral here I'm pretty busy," Rainbows says, arms crossed over her chest. "I have my team to look after, a band, my sister, guitar sessions, Witch hunting, I'm enrolling in college, my mom doesn't work, I write-"

"Sooo," Weird Eyes asks, first sharing a glance with you, "when do you sleep?"

"When I can," Rainbows answers, seeming intrigued again. "Why? I've got fuel to share."

You glance at Weird Eyes, again. Then you ask Rainbows if there's something worrying her.

"Naaaah, I can tackle anything," is her answer, not even boasting. "I'm acing everything."

"You are going to crash and burn," Weird Eyes declares, and you couldn't agree more.

But your job is to help her out somehow.
>Help Rainbows fall asleep. You don't know if brains overheat like transformers, and if a Magical Girl would be any different.
>Keep asking questions. Help Rainbows figure out the problem. If you grab her hand she may fall asleep, though.
>Write-In

>>4693114
>Help Rainbows fall asleep. You don't know if brains overheat like transformers, and if a Magical Girl would be any different.

>>4693114
>Keep asking questions. Help Rainbows figure out the problem. If you grab her hand she may fall asleep, though.
If we help her sleep it'll just delay the issue.

>>4693114
>Write-In
"Let's step back for a second. Maybe we got this all wrong. Weird Eyes told me you were always on the edge and were having issues sleeping. Do you even want to be off the edge? Do you want to sleep?"

Being a meguca therapist turns out to be suffering. And what's that about fuel to share? Is she high?

>>4693291
i'll be taking this as "keep asking questions+", that okay with you?

also english is not my first language and i fuck up a lot, is there a way to edit or correct the shit i did
or should i like do a patched up version of the thread once its over

>>4693351
Yeah, that's fine. I'm not sure what you want to edit though.
I was suggesting as a joke that our 'patient' is high on meth or cocaine and that is the real reason she can't sleep and she refers to the drugs as her fuel.

>>4693351
The only way is to delete your post and repost the corrected version. It's much easier to just write updates down in ms word and then paste them here after spellchecking.

>>4693291
>>4693372
>Keep asking questions. Help Rainbows figure out the problem. If you grab her hand she may fall asleep, though+

Apparently, Magical Girls have problems like anyone else. It's just like Weird Eyes said. While Rainbows staying up for weeks on end is shocking, you do know well that naps help keep things stable. You've lost track of how many times you fell victim to pranks for napping mid-class; you couldn't stop yourself regardless.

"I know!" Rainbows answers. "That's what I've been waiting for. Last time I crashed and slept for like three days. Now it's not happening and I don't know why."

"You slept for three days straight yet kept going on like this," Weird Eyes deadpans.

"I'm wired different."

You wonder... at the very least, if she's been keeping up like this, Rainbows can stay up for a few questions. Seems like you and Weird Eyes had the same idea at the same time, because she too went for the tea pot, and your hands ended up interlocked. You went, from surprised, to blushing, to frozen, to worried, and to panicked in the span of the five second it took to take your hand from over hers. Like a cat watching a red dot, Rainbows darts between looking at one and the other, as Weird Eyes slowly regains her mind from peace.

"Wow," she just says. "I could end up addicted to this."

...You think Weird Eyes may have just touched a fundamental point, but for now, you keep up with your questions.

>>4693291
You ask Rainbows if she's staying awake on purpose, and if so, why. It's a straightforward question, the kind that solves problems.

"I try to sleep, but when I can't sleep I do something else," is what Rainbows answers. "Why would I waste time looking at the ceiling when there's so much to do?"

You mumble something not even you understand and ask her why she always feels on edge.

"That's what I want to know, you know!" she says just too loudly. "It's like, you know what I feel? It's like the floor could break form under me at any second. Like walking on thin ice. Like I'm walking on a rope that's somewhere very high, like a rope that goes between skyscrapers."

"Why would a rope go between skyscrapers?" asks Weird Eyes as she pours beer into her tea.

"Because japanese people hate being late." Rainbows scratches inside her nose. You try not to look. "Also would explain karoshi."

"It's not considered overwork if you don't even get there," Weird Eyes points out as she pours beer into your tea.

You ask what that is.

"Death by overwork," says Rainbows.

On a whim, you ask if that could happen to her, before you end up delving into your own imagination. This seems to get Rainbows thinking, unless she's falling asleep again.

"But I'm not japanese," she says, but thinks it over. "No, that doesn't matter. Or maybe it does! I'm a Magical Girl, I'm pretty strong. Being a Magical Girl is different from being japanese. But what about japanese Magical Girls then?"

Weird Eyes shrugs. Rainbows is going off the rails.

(cont!)

What you gather is: Rainbows works a lot because she can't sleep, and can't sleep because she works a lot. But where did this start? Shouldn't working too much make sleeping much easier? It makes you wonder.

You drink your tea absent-mindedly, and win the will check of spitting it all over the table. Weird Eyes notices your puffed up cheeks.

"...oh no wait, it had beer, didn't it? Just, just spit it over there, at the sink," she says as she points.

Rainbows laughs as if she was roaring. She must have seen it coming.

"Hey, come on," Weird Eyes tells her, as you let go of the beer-a or tea-er. "So, anyway, what is it that keeps you up."

"I don't know!" Rainbows whimpers, instantly going from hyper to kinda desperate. "I told you, I'm wired different!"

Or maybe not... you wonder. You ask Rainbows about her college, the one she's going to soon.

"I wanna be a journalist," she says as her eyes flare up, "and ask people things. There are still exams on my way, and um maybe those are hard, but I've been doing great so far."

You nod and nod, kicking your gears for her sake, as Weird Eyes said, for another human.

What is it that keeps tired people awake at night?
>Write In.

>>4693531
Fears, anxiety. I mean, if it were drugs, she'd start thinking happy thoughts after Hush touched her and still be hyperactive and not shut down, although we're still figuring this one out.
Even though she's magical as fuck, it looks like she needs to rest like the normal people. What does she think would happen if she'd go sleeping for a week? Would someone get hurt? What about a day? A few hours? What if something happens, but she's merely away, doing all that stuff? The point is, she can't be awake all the time just as she can't be everywhere and stuff will inevitably happen no matter what. Merely worrying isn't helping, because it's tiring her out and doesn't protect anyone or prepares for anything.
It's fine if she's 'wired differently' and can go on three hours of sleep a day. But it's not fine if she does it to herself for no good reason. I don't bloody know how to 'write in' this in a compact way.

Or it could be magical witching-bitching nightmares, you know. The whole magical girl population will soon use Hush as a pillow then with no alternatives in sight.

>>4693531
>"Have you always had trouble sleeping, or did this start recently? Something insomnia-inducing happened not long ago, maybe?"

>>4693591
>>4693796

>Fear
>Anxiety
>>Worry

Worrying; that's what keeps tired people up at night. No one would sleep well knowing tomorrow will rain swords, but sometimes an exam or a scheduled phone call are enough.

Again, you ask the Magical Girl with rainbow hair if something's worrying her. Insisting is at the edge of what you let yourself do, but ignoring someone in pain is past it.

"No, nothing, think I told ya," Rainbows answers, unfazed. "I'm the top of my highschool, the singer of my band, and a damn good Magical Girl in one package!"

Who even strikes a pose. It looks nice, you guess, is nice seeing someone with that kind of confidence. But the glasses don't fit.

"Hmm, the glasses don't fit," says Weird Eyes, scaring you. "Your green eyes are gorgeous. Show them, sugar."

"I'm blind as any of your girlfriends," Rainbows answers with some honest sadness. "And I keep losing my contact lenses."

Weird Eyes settles for pouring her less tea.

"If only you hadn't spent entire nights sharing memes, or at least wore your glasses while rotting your brain," she finishes.

You apologize in advance, but repeat your question. You ask Rainbows to look deep inside her for something that could be worrying her. When you are worried, you tell her, you can't sleep.

"But nothing worries me," says Rainbows, now kinda startled. "I don't think I'm worried, why would I be worried, I got this far on my own. I think It's my brain that broke or something."

If that was the case, you tell her, your peace magic wouldn't have worked. She gets stuck.

"Wait, is that right?" she asks, more to herself than you. "Hey yeah, I think that's right, it did work, I fell asleep and Wei-"

"Mercy, please," Weird Eyes almost begs.

"I still don't think I'm worried though," Rainbows goes on as if nothing. "There has to be something else, I'm sure."

Something else... but what if there isn't something else?

(cont!)

However, you consider the possibility. You don't discard her being worried, you want to show her that you do consider her point of view.

>>4693796

You ask Rainbows when this all started. You ask if there's something that happened that would seem like the start of this all.

"I've always been like this, it just got worse over the years," Rainbows answers almost before you finish asking. "I hate routine or being tied to a schedule, I follow my gut and let it take me places. Like here."

She looks at her cellphone. You are surprisingly dissapointed about it not having a rainbow motif. She punches it with her finger at high speeds.

"Also, I got to go in like half an hour. No, in like twenty five minutes," Rainbows says.

"You barely got here," Weird Eyes points out, not entirely not baffled.

You ask her if she's been in any very bad situation, and you are so forward about it that even Weird Eyes gives you a look.

"That's private," Rainbows starts, yet calm, "but let me tell you. I don't remember my wish. Kyubey told me none of the god damned weasels remembers making a contract with me, so if something bad happened I don't remember any of it. So it doesn't matter."

"What, but you say that all the time," Weird Eyes comments.

"It's still private."

You acknowledge Rainbows with a few 'I see, I see' and a some nodding. But then you ask what her power does.

"I make things disappear," Rainbows answers instantly yet again. "Thus, Magical Girl of the Void."

You ask if she can make memories disappear.

"Anything," she says. "Some things are harder. But if it can be pointed out I can make it disappear with the exception of her restraint, she never had any to begin with."

You let yourself delve on it in silence as Weird Eyes finally takes her cheeks hostage. Even if Rainbows can erase memories, you think, that wouldn't change the impact those memories had. Even if you forgot about all the bullying, you'd still know how to blend in without drawing attention...

..but that seems such a deep angle that twenty five minutes wouldn't even scratch the surface. Not yours, at least. In short, there's no point even considering her magic powers right now.

There has to be something else. Something much more simple. Something within your reach.

And she's working so hard.

Hmm...
>Try to use your magic on Rainbows somehow to get the answers she can't get. But won't she fall asleep? Unless...?
>Convince Rainbows to stay and sleep. Tell her that going on could be very dangerous. Lie if you have to, even if you don't have the details.
>You think you have an idea. Tell her what's wrong. (Write-In)

>>4694460
>Try to use your magic on Rainbows somehow to get the answers she can't get. But won't she fall asleep? Unless...?

>>4694460
>You think you have an idea. Tell her what's wrong. (Write-In)
"Can you make pain disappear? What about your own tiredness? Make your sleepiness go away?"
If it is like that, she's like self-medicating, but with magic. Probably out of a habit now, since it 'got worse over the years'. If that doesn't make it, I'm out of ideas for now, let her sleep or just have peace for twenty minutes. Maybe something will come up.

>>4694460
>Convince Rainbows to stay and sleep. Tell her that going on could be very dangerous. Lie if you have to, even if you don't have the details.
Maybe we can ask more questions when she wakes up.

>>4694466
>>4694468
>>4694568

three different votes. clearly, i brought this evil upon me
what do i do, guys? roll it or wait for a tiebreaker? also ill always include write-ins if they dont cancel other options out, so it would be between a) and b) now

>>4694746
I was meaning a) as a backup option if write-in idea doesn't stick. But now that I think of it, I suggest b): strongly encourage to stay. I don't suggest lying, but I do suggest saying that if she crashes, dies or witches out before evening, that's not on us. People are not supposed to be operating without sleep for weeks. This does sound like an emergency situation.

>>4694468
You ask Rainbows to explain her powers in further detail, maybe sounding, and acting, a bit more serious than intended. As if in response, Weird Eyes leaves the table, maybe going for cookies.

"I do nothing," Rainbows tells you with a shit-eating grin.

You 'I see' it and ask what that means.

"I don't do nothing," Rainbows says, "I /do/ nothing. I nothing things." She perks up. "Hey yeah, that's the best way to put it!"

And you don't get it at all. You ask Rainbows how erasing memories work, if she can erase pain, or why she hasn't erased her own tiredness yet.

To which she grumbles: "If it was /that/ easy I'd have, like, erased the impurities on my soul gem. I mean I can do that," she points out, "but it always causes more impurities than I erase. Entropy at work for you."

That doesn't answer any of your questions, but you just let her go on.

"Things are linked to other... things," she explains, drawing nothings with a finger in the air. "Like a waterfall. If I erase the waterfall, water will just keep on falling because what causes the waterfall is still there. Oh, that's right. Come with me."

Rainbows stands so hard that she hits the side of her waist with the edge of the table. Hard. You watch her eyes squint slowly, slowly, as she bares all her teeth at once.

"fffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccckkk," she intones gracefully, like a diva.

You rush to a stand too (with a bit more care than her) and ask if she's okay. Rainbows looks at you with both contempt and mercy.

"No," she says simply.

You follow her as she stands next to Weird Eyes, who was digging through a cupboard trimmed with packages. Rainbows opens the faucet at the sink. You watch the water flow.

"Pay attention," she says, and you do. Even Weird Eyes turns to look.

For a split second, all the water- disappears. Completely. Then it comes back from the faucet. She does it again and again, until you tell her that you get it.

"If I don't erase the cause, taking care of the consequences is totally useless," Rainbows finally puts plainly. "Same goes for memory and pain. My mind is a swiss cheese, and yet I feel so tired..."

(cont!)

>>4694568
>>4694778
>Convince Rainbows to stay and sleep. Tell her that going on could be very dangerous. (Don't) Lie if you have to, even if you don't have the details.

When she says it, you feel it. Behind her glasses, her eyes look like broken led lights ready to shut down at any second. Maybe it's just your impression, but it feels so real that you can't help but trust it.

Weird Eyes finally comes back with, as you guessed, a tray buried under a humble mountain of chocolate chip cookies. You grab two at once but then settle for one, hoping not to seem desperate.

"I'm on a diet," Rainbows says.

"It's as important to enjoy life as to be healthy," Weird Eyes preaches, true to her word, grabbing a cookie. "Wouldn't you agree, Hush?"

You agree, and say it. You tell her wanting to live is as important as being able to. You know this too well. She stares at you so calmly yet so deeply that you feel alone with her in another room.
But Rainbows? She bursts out laughing yet again, which makes you hold on onto the table.

"That's SO you!", Rainbows roars.

You steal a cookie from the tray as she keeps on laughing. It seems exaggerated. Once she's done, you ask her Rainbows how much time she has left, and what she has to do after this.

"Like fifty," she says. "Gotta play my guitar. Fingers get rusty too."

You feel a beel ring, and ask Weird Eyes if she has one.

"A guitar? Yes, the green one. I have one that's dark green," she tells you.

You tell Rainbows that you play guitar too. If she stays the night, you two can play together. And Weird Eyes goes 'ooooooooooooh!!', excited, clapping. It seems she got it.

"But I got to go," Rainbows says, a different story altogether On the background, Weird Eyes deflates.

You let your shoulders drop and tell Rainbows that she's currently in a dangerous situation. That she should sleep. That even if Magical Girls were to be different than humans, she still feel asleep at your touch, and that can't mean anything good. Cleanly, that this is nothing but an emergency.

"But I told you, I don't even feel that bad!" Rainbows insists, now finally upset.

And she's intimidating, but is so the prospect of letting another person fall from the edge. You ask Rainbows to show you her Soul Gem.

Which she refuses. "I have a Grief Seed. It doesn't matter."

That answers your question.

"What I don't have is time," she says, putting on her helmet, not even gathering her rainbow hair first. "You aren't gonna fix me today, so see you later I guess. Gotta go."

She turns around.
>Grab her.
>Let her go.

>>4694942
Damn, you sure offer some tough choices, QM.
From what I see, it's basically either "let her go and risk her collapsing" or "force her to stay and risk her hatred". I'd have let Rainbows go if it was something less serious, but I wouldn't bear it if anything really bad happened to her. Besides, if she comes back with the same attitude, we'll never eliminate the root of the problem, but if she wakes up refreshed maybe we can question her and solve everything using what we'll have learned.
>Grab her.

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>>4694942
>Grab her.
As much as I want to go pic related on this situation, I suppose Hush is going to find it out the hard way.

>>4694942
>Grab her.

>>4694975
>>4695054
>>4695065

You summon all of your strength just to be ready to grab her. You wait for the right moment, else you lose both Rainbows and her trust.

Yet, you hesitate.
And for good reason.

All your life, the path laid before you has been set by someone else. Your mother, your step-father, your teacher, the director, your therapist... Your choices, your way of life, was reduced to mere details like the plushies that you could pick, or the color of your bag... which they made fun of anyway. If anything, you will at least, at the very least, have the decency of being as informed about her interests as you can. You won't be like any of them.

You ask Rainbows if a guitar practice session is worth risking her sanity over, not even trying to sound friendly.

"No," she says, turning fully to you, albeit, surprisingly, not upset. "But my debut concert is!"

Her... debut concert.

"So this is how I find out," Weird Eyes says, "jerk."

"First I came here to tell you, second neutrals don't get first spot in anything," Rainbows rushes to say. "We've been training for weeks. I could become an idol yet, it's not off the charts."

Weird Eyes frowns her nose. "I like your hair, but I can't imagine that. Someone as honest as you would go down in flames. So when is it?"

"Today. Midnight, I'll send you the address." Rainbows turns to face you, smiling brightly, her eyes flickering. "And bring Peace Girl too."

...fuck.

>/Grab her/.
>Ler her go.

>>4695110
>/Grab her/.

>>4695110
>Let her go.

>>4695110
>/Grab her/.
If we think that she's in immediate danger, it doesn't matter what she has to do. If she crashes or dies, she can't do it anyway.

>>4695387
What has changed in the reasoning then?

>>4695743
The stakes have risen. It wouldn't hurt her too much if she missed guitar practice or didn't do homework once, but this is important. Who knows whether this is a once in a lifetime opportunity? Maybe she'll face condemnation from her bandmates, and a lot of despair will build up in her soul gem, which will hurt her in another way? Also, a major part in the reasoning my initial decision was that, perhaps, she didn't understand the danger, but here she admits unwillingness to risk her health for minor things, so this concert must be something worth it. I don't stop people if they know what they're doing, even if it's potentially harmful to them.

>>4695110
>Ler her go.

anyone wanna change their minds, i get bitchy when i cant update

>>4693591
>Hush as a pillow
if this goes on long enough im asking decu to draw this

>>4696208
Switching >>4696208 to letting her go. Could've flipped a coin.

>>4696243
can't leave this kind of stuff to chance

writtan in a while

>>4695387
>>4695874
>>4696243
>Let her go.

Living on the safe side is also taking a risk. After all, we all are going down someday anyway. This is the risk Rainbows has chosen to take.

Too deep in thought, you realize a bit too late that you've just been invited to a concert by none other than the performer herself. You thank her, over and over, maybe a bit too much- as you eyeball Weird Eyes.

Who sighs in jest. "Fine," she just tells you- then balls up both fists under her chin. "Oh hell yeah finally some action we are going to a concert!"

"Yay!" yells Rainbows from inside her helmet, pleased and still standing. She buries both hands in her jacket and stirs, then in other pockets, then brings out a wallet that has crumbs all over. "Here. I got like seven tickets because I didn't know how many other girls I was going to find here paying debtsAAAAAAA those are for other friends, for other friends!"

Weird Eyes hesitates, but her pincer fingers let go of her arm.

And Rainbows jumps away. "Why do we have to live in a world full of violence, is that all you have, it's not fair," she whimpers.

"I'm not as smart or as witty as you are, Elizabeth" Weird Eyes tells her warmly, splitting a cookie in half with her long fingers, "so I have to make do. We all have. Don't we, Hush?"

You nod, just in case. But then you tell Weird Eyes that you think she's witty. She grins at you for a full second.

"We'll be there," Weird Eyes tells Rainbows, then stands from the table. "Don't overdo it."

Rainbows winks from behind the plastic visor, then closes the door herself. Not ten seconds later, Weird Eyes lets out a looong sigh. But then stands in full, eyes closed, punching the other shoulder over and over with a single finger.

"Hush," she says, and you stand like a soldier, "I never had /anyone ever/ pay me that way. Those persons did what they did because they wanted to and we both made a choice. Are we clear?"

You nod and nod.

"Touch me," she asks.

But, still as you are, you shake and shake your head. You tell Weird Eyes that you believe her. The oldest Magical Girls beams up at you, a pretty image that makes you giddy, but then frowns.

"We are having salad tonight."

(cont!)

Yet you didn't; you had burgers to which Weird Eyes added small tomato slices. You only had half of yours, she had hers and your half as well. Weird Eyes sure eats a lot.

Then midnight came, and the waiting line was long. You peek from the sidelines at times, yet never see the end of it.

"They've had a following on the net for long" explains the blonde, twice your height, "because their drummer did a silly song about cigars being gross when she was little. Eli kept the trend going."

You don't answer. The lines moves as you think of something to say.

"Don't worry about Rainbows," Weird Eyes tells you. "She's been like this for as long as I remember. And remember; you are my little sister, and mom had to go."

You smile so brightly at Weird Eyes that she goes 'eh', maybe worried. But then your smile vanishes. The blonde looks around: a big, bald man is standing at the side of the line, wearing a suit over his big muscles. He looks scary.

Weird Eyes just scoffs. "See that guy?" the blessed blonde tells you, kneeling a bit. "You could knock him out."

You look at the man, and you look at her. Then you look at the man again, and you look at her again. There's no joke. She's serious...?

"But, don't," Weird Eyes adds, "because having your ass handed over to you by a thirteen years old little angel feels bad. Trust me. I'd know."

You ask if that someone is Aloe.

"Yes, last time we trained," she says, grinning, "and I was just playing and you are going to believe that."

You don't tell her that you won't.

The line moves again.

(cont!)

As you finally step into the stadium... no. As Weird Eyes piggy-back carries you into the stadium, you marvel at the crowd. It's a debut, that much is clear, so you didn't expect the whole place to be... crowded.

"Can you hear me?" And a voice speaks at you from within and it scares the crap out of you- and it's Weird Eyes's. "Hush, don't be scared. I'm talking to you through our Soul Gems, telepathically. We'll try talking this way until you get used to it. Now you try."

And you try. You try thinking aloud, in your mind, that her hair smells nice. You try apologizing for being so small. You try to thank her.

There's no answer.

"Hush?" The question bounces on your head.

Then the lights go off. The sound goes off. You find yourself holding too tightly onto her neck too late, yet slipping, because you are wearing the black winter wool gloves that she gave you that look like socks.

Then the stage flares up behind three shadows. A single flare is shot into the sky, briefly giving light. A shadow with a bass, one on a drum set, one with a guitar in front of a microphone stand. One that you know.

"GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," and it's Rainbows shooting, and the crowd goes apeshit.

She snaps the microphone from the stand, as three lights set on them. It's three girls, all dressed as...firefighters, helmets and everything, only Rainbows wearing a skirt

with an axe at the side.

"HEY, HEY," Rainbows yells at the microphone, almost biting the thing off, "LOOK AT THAT ASSHOLE. LOOK AT IT. LIGHTS!"

She points with her finger, and a spotlight shines on the crowd.

"NO, NOT THERE, OVER THERE, NO, LOO- THERE, RIGHT THERE!"

It's two guys fighting, both of who notice the light on them only after the people around them had already made space. Both who freeze.

"YOU DON'T COME TO MY DEBUT TO FIGHT, YOU COME HERE TO DANCE AND HAVE A GOOD TIME, YOU MOTHERFUCKERS," Rainbows roars at the top of her lungs, her finger shaking as if it was on fire. "GET THE FUCK OUT!"

And it's not long until bald fat bouncers spawn from the shadows and drag them both into the underworld.

"There are millions of girls their age wanting to be on a stage, but they stand out," you hear Weird Eyes's voice from the inside. "Do you know why?"

You whisper that you don't and she giggles.

"Hey, that tickles. It's simple, really. It's because they do something different. Something new," she says, "and you can do something new too."

You think about it... and smile softly. It's a soothing little good point, and you agree with it.

"You can't answer, right?" Weird Eyes's voice says. "Don't worry. We'll find a way."

Then the blonde points at the stage, as if saying, 'for now...' and you follow suit as Rainbows hits her guitar.

"AND NOW," she yells, and all the people around yell too, "I WILL EARN THAT BREAD."

(cont!)

It lasted barely half an hour before the other bands took over- and half an hour was enough. Between the deafening sound of that bass cutting through the air and grabbing on for dear life because Weird Eyes wouldn't stop shaking (because you didn't want to stop her) you've decided that you don't like concerts, but love seeing people having fun. Yet when Weird Eyes finally crouches so you can stand, your legs are shaking.

"What a ride. Oh, the burgers," the blonde complains. "So many burgers."

She grabs both her knees. You ask Weird Eyes if she feels alright.

"I don't, and I shouldn't," she says, her words out of your head. "Aww, I got greedy... Maybe we should get a cab, just this once."

You suggest going to a bar so she can use the bathroom, if she needs it-

-which she does seem to consider. "And we /could/, maybe, do a little tourism, why not, wait... no," she glances at you, "no little girl is sleeping late on my watch. No."

You are considering laughing when it hits you

that "sound"

the sound you will never forget about.

You stop and look. At what, you don't know: it's beyond walls, beyond people. Weird Eyes walks past you, looking at the same direction.

The sound becomes a blast as a creeping shockwave razes the ground, almost sending you flying, violently flipping your hair and the skirt on your sweater and sending every pamphlet on the floor swirling towards the sky. When you open your eyes some people are laying on the floor, some are trying to stand, a hot-dog stand has been toppled, windows have been shattered.

Then you feel it.

You feel it.

You don't know what that is, but, just like you can feel Weird Eyes's presence, you feel it.

A car alarm goes off somewhere; you hardly even notice. Your attention has been stolen, and you can't get it back.

"...sh.. Hush!" you finally react. Weird Eyes kneels in front of you. Any trace of stomach ache on her has completely vanished instantly. "Hush, I want you to go home. Open your hands."

But you keep looking past her shoulder, so Weird Eyes grabs your hands herself and stores her heavy keys in them.

"Look at where I'm looking," she says, and you oblige. "There," you follow her finger. "Go there and ask for a cab. Do you remember my address?"

You ask Weird Eyes if that's a Witch.

"Yes," she answers.

You ask if she's going after her.

"Yes..." and she answers.

It's when you say that you are going with her that she shakes her head, dragging her pretty golden hair along.

"It's too soon for you," the beautiful blonde says, firmly. "Not now, and not yet."

You ask if this is your fault, and she caresses your cheek with the back of her fingers, through a sleeve.

"No. It's not. We'll talk about this later. Do you remember my address?"

You just nod, almost in tears, as she finally stands.

And Weird Eyes winks at you. "I will return," is the last you hear her say as she leaves.

You watch her merge into the crowd.

...

...

(cont!)

...

...

As the people come and go, as some gather to push a car back up, as people all over wonder what the fuck just happened and talk about earthquakes, you feel a freezing, piercing, endless shiver going down your spine.

Weird Eyes didn't have a Grief Seed to give you.

Aloe was able to win a sparring match against her.

She had retired.

You just stand there, feeling all the cold in the world under your thick turtle-neck sweater and tight black yoga pants.

...

>Go back home.
>Follow Weird Eyes.

>>4696208
I think the tie-breaker rule is that the last vote is discarded.
>>4696931
>Follow Weird Eyes.
But skulk at edge of the scene with one eye to the exit. It is too chaotic to get a cab ride anyways, what with all the pandemonium.

>>4696931
>Go back home.
What can we do, really? Give her another person to protect, further complicating the fight? I'd guess she knows about her strength, or lack thereof, as well, and has a plan to overcome that, like calling for backup or something.

>>4697003
>>4697059
Wait, shouldn't we try to find Rainbows backstage? She's got to be the closest MG around. Maybe she hasn't left yet.
She said she had a grief seed. It could make a real difference.

>>4697324
Perhaps she's the one that turned into a witch after leaving the stage. Low probability, since she had a grief seed indeed, but maybe?.. Also, if she's still there, she should have felt it herself, MGs seem to have some kind of sixth sense for witches. In fact, now that you've brought up other magical girls, wasn't Rainbows planning to invite her friends? Perhaps she didn't only bring tickets for Weird Eyes, but also invited others beforehand?

>>4697333
>Perhaps she's the one that turned into a witch after leaving the stage.
That'd be the worst. Not entirely unexpected, though. Still, what do you think, is looking for any remaining MGs worth it? Maybe the sixth sense range is weak or is not very precise.

>>4697373
Well, I'd guess anyone in the crowd should have felt it, and randomly searching around in a wider area, especially in this kind of chaos, is a bad idea. We could call Aloe if we have her number maybe?

>>4697397
I guess that works. Call, if possible, get out.

File: acatisnotfine.jpg (12 KB, 320x320)

12 KB JPG

>>4697397
>>4697407
lil Hush doesn't have a cellphone. you guys can ask me stuff you know
also write-ins will always be implicit. had an idea? add a > to it

>>4696931
>Go back home.

aight guys im going with
>Go back home
unless votes change by tomorrow. im waiting for >>4697397 and >>4697407 to throw something out.

>>4698323
>Go back home.

>>4698323
>>4697059
I voted in my initial post.
>Go back home.

>>4698247
>>4698337
>>4698486
>Go back home.

But she told you to go back, a ten years veteran has told you to go back. Reassuring as her age may be, you find yourself still staring in the directions she went, looking for sparks of gold like her hair. Someone asks if you are lost but you barely pay it attention. Someone is taking pictures on a cellphone.

The feeling of the Witch is etched into your mind.

Other than Weird Eyes and Rainbows, you felt no other Magical Girl in the crowd. Which you found odd because Rainbows said she leads a team. Yet, because of the Witch drought, it's almost a given that any other Magical Girl that picked up this same eerie feeling is going to come here, and meet Weird Eyes and Rainbows.

You wonder if that's a good thing as Scarfs crosses your mind.

But Weird Eyes told you to go back.
You turn around and go back, the feeling following you, like chill wind, on the back of your head.

(cont!)

In the end, you had forgotten the address, and tested the cab driver's patience for ten minutes until a billboard ad about a girl with guitar strings for hair reminded you of its number. And even so, you had no way to pay him. The poor old man had to wait for you to scavenge Weird Eyes's home for change.

The wind closes the door behind you faster than you wanted. Hesitating, you turn around, and face the messy house. It's empty. It's much bigger than it was. You open the fridge: beer and fruit juice boxes co-exist in peace and harmony. There's not much to eat, not even left-overs. You don't want to eat.

After turning off the lights to save in bills, you find yourself sneaking into the art room, sliding into the bed. You find yourself staring at the ceiling, at utter darkness.

Weird Eyes is a veteran.

Rainbows had a Grief Seed.

You can't stop thinking about that moment, so you delve on it. Once you left with Weird Eyes, you couldn't feel Rainbows presence anymore- yet you could feel the Witch. Maybe it's easier to feel Witches than other Magical Girls. Maybe the density of the magic has something to do with it, or there are other things to consider.

Was there nothing you could do to help?

Maybe you'd just get in the way. Maybe you really weren't ready for that. Maybe. Or maybe you could have stopped someone from witching-out with your powers. Maybe.

Even though it's quiet, even though it's dark, you can't sleep. Weird Eyes dancing.

What if she never comes back?

You find yourself staring at the ceiling, at utter darkness...

(cont!)

The sun shines gently through the crevasses of the rolling curtain, showing you the shining little points that are dust in the air. You've spent the night waiting, waiting for any sound, for any warning.

She didn't return.

You stand, make way to the kitchen, and make yourself breakfast like you used to back home. You make pancakes, and let them go just a little black at the edges. Then a little bit more.

You sit on the couch to eat, wondering what funny movie scene you should leave ready for when Weird Eyes comes back. You can't decide. Then you end up watching a movie about a man who wants an alien to punch him in the face but has to find them first to keep your mind busy.

And movie and a half in later someone knocks on the door, and your heart skips a beat for each knock.

You open the door almost in terror, then gasp your lungs out as you find Aloe with a bag.

"Hello," the small girl says, as if she was poorly programmed to.

She simply walks past you, and you let her. Then looks around.

"Where's Weird Eyes?" she asks.

You tell her you don't know. Aloe shakes the bag.

"I came to ask her a favor," she says. "I heard she takes these as payment."

It's cherry tomatoes. But you don't laugh.

"Where's Weird Eyes?" Aloe asks again.

You tell her the whole thing. About Rainbows, about the concert, about the Witch. Aloe listens intently, steady, too steady for a human. As if chewing a brick, you tell Aloe that Weird Eyes didn't return. Who's swift to walk past you.

"I'm going to find her," she says.

Aloe drops the bag just like that as she leaves, leaving the entrance buried under red dots as she locks the door behind her. She had keys too.

You look at the tomatoes. The splatter looks like blood.

(cont!)

After that, you didn't felt like watching movies anymore. A lot of time was spent watching your Soul Gem slowly growing darker. The black dots are barely noticeable, each the fruit of a single dark thought. You tried to transform and be more useful in any way you could think of, to no avail, try after try. Minutes went by but felt like hours- your youth spent staring at the wall.

Realization dawns, slowly,
that you were very, very lucky.

Then you feel something.

Five bangs on the door push you out of your mind, then five bangs more get you up on your feet. You rush to the door.

"Heeey!! Is anyone in there?!" you hear someone scream from behind, and that someone is a Magical Girl. "Open the door!"

BANG BANG BANG. And not just one; two at least, maybe even three. Your hand rushes to the handle, but the memory of Scarfs's rusty broadsword through your chest leaves it hanging in the air. You freeze.

"You blonde catfucker, are you in there?! We need you!" the shrill voice perseveres. "Man down! Man down! Whoever is there, open the door! I'll kick it down! I swear!"

You forgot that you are a Magical Girl too. There is no point hiding.

One of those signals seems weaker than the rest.
>Open the door.
>Tell them Weird Eyes isn't home.
>Jump out of the window.
>Ask questions (Write In)

>>4698813
>Open the door.
And face the music.

>>4698813
>Open the door.
>Tell them Weird Eyes isn't home.
Just do both.

>>4698995
>Offer to look after the girl.
>>Bandage the stubs and put a hand on her chest to calm the girl down
idk what else.

>>4699029
fuck that, I changed my mind. too dark even for my coffee. writtan in a while

>>4698819
>>4698873
>Open the door.

You take your time to be brave and slowly push down the handle, wondering if it shouldn't be 'girl down girl down' as you are tackled aside. The two Magical Girls drop the third on the couch, a lanky girl with long black hair wearing the same school uniform that the other two. One of which, a ginger with a bob-cut, makes you shrink with her angry face.

"Where's the healer?" she asks bluntly. "Cat healer!"

>>4698873
You tell her Weird Eyes isn't home.

"That fucking Witch," the other other mutters... ponytails? Blue hair done in ponytails starting in small red triangles. "We need to go back."

You look at the girl on the couch. Nothing seems wrong at first sight, there's no trace of blood on her clothes. Yet her face is red and contorts, though she doesn't even whimper. You ask what happened to her.

"Friend got smashed into the ground," the girl with the blue hair says. She sounds frightened. "Too much. Too much...!"

"Grief Seed," the redhair yells right to your face, hard, but pleadingly. "A Grief Seed. P-please."

You tell her you don't have any, but that she's free to look for any in the house.

"Where is the Weird Eyes?!" she repeats in desperation, yet walks away before you can repeat your answer. "Is she coming?"

"Strawberry, she's going dark," the blue girl says barely, her hand shaking as she grabs the pendant on the wounded girl's chest. "There's no time, let's go back and finish that Witch NOW!"

>Offer to look after the girl.
>Go with them after the Witch.
>Play dumb. Hide your powers.

>>4699035
kek
>>4699054
>>4699029
Still voting this.

>>4699054
>Offer to look after the girl.

>>4699057
>>4699494
>Offer to look after the girl.

From the corner of your eye, you peek at the girl on the couch- bruises all over the skin. Frail. As if she'd shatter against the floor just from slipping from the couch. Whatever her sins and context, you feel nothing but love and mercy for this poor girl fighting to survive- as a can of tuna flies by your ear.

"Nothing here," says the ginger, coarse, slamming open another drawer. "Nothing there," she repeats, clawing her head, going insane and repeating the process.

But as she darts out of the kitchen she finds you grabbing the wounded girl's hand.

"What the fuck are you doing," Strawberry asks, cleanly.

And then finds her still. For a while, nothing else in the world moves. Nothing, until her chest, a straight line like yours, puffs out with a deep breath.

"Oh my god what did you do to her," blue ponytails whispers, her eyes fixed in place.

And you tell her. You tell Strawberry, the girl with the red bobcut, and the girl with the blue ponytails that you are using peace magic, that anyone you touch directly is at peace.

Like predators in the night, they just stare in silence.

"How. Does that work," Strawberry asks, bluntly, yet without yelling.

You stretch your hand towards her and tell her to hold her. The Magical Girl hesitates, not a gist of red on her face, but takes it. Her pupils dilatate, her shoulders slowly fall in place- the effect is instant. The other girl, however, seems scared, so you let go at once.

And once she's back on black, Strawberry stays in place. "Peace magic, ok. That was... stuff," she concedes.

"But her Soul Gem! Look!"

The three of you fix your stares at the azure Soul Gem that looks like a dolphin. It's black, very black... yet not getting any darker. As the girls close in on it, you think about it. Soul Gems draw impurities born from despair. Peace magic blocks despair. The pieces click so hard that you outright tell both of them that her Soul Gem will stay like that for as long as you keep her hand held.

Strawberry's mouth seems stuck in place. "Really?"

Really, you tell her.

And she falls to her knees, deflating like an angry balloon.

"Please, please stay with her for us!" blue ponytails begs to you abruptly, going as far to bend her head and join palms in front of your face. "I will make it up to you, I swear!"

"The witch," blurts Strawberry.

And the balloon in her heart is inflated at once, rushing out of the house. That was quick.

"Thank you!" you hear her teammate say as her blue ponytails follow suit, and vanishes behind the door.

You didn't even get to answer. The room went quiet at once. Except for faint breathing, you can't even hear water dripping.

(cont!)

The hand you are holding feels warm and wet. You try to hold it gently enough to leave broken bones alone, yet hard enough to not let it slip. You look at the TV, then at the door, then at the sleeping girl on the couch. She's still; too still. Still yourself, you look at her without taking a breath- until she does again.

Holding hands with a girl for so long is the dream of many more than one- unless the girl is dying. At this point, however, you feel ready to say she'll be alright, that at worst she won't be able to move on her own, at least until Weird Eyes comes back. It took a while to notice, and it's a small change, but the hair on your head did get puffier ever since you woke up in the art room. You wonder if this girl will grow cat ears.

An hour goes by.

You turn on the TV, glancing at the girl to see if she wakes up. With a little guilt, you let yourself study her features carefully. Her black hair is very long, straight, and done in a himecut, the eyebrows are a bit more pronounced than in most people and her features make you think of Russia for some reason. You turn up the volume; she doesn't wake up. You just hope that at some point she will.

...

Another hour goes by.

(cont!)

You finish that movie about the scientist that spent his youth and daylight creating the first robot, accidentally ushering the world in a new era of unemployment when all he wanted was for it to punch him in the face. You wipe out a few tears; it was a good one. The sun has begun to set.

Hungry, you watch the news. A man was killed and his house robbed, two famous people said mean things about each other, there's a cream that makes your skin smoother, tomorrow will rain. You do some tourism across the channels, finding people cooking dishes, weird games where you can win cars, things you shouldn't be seeing yet- and suddenly it's midnight.

They didn't come back.

You turn off the TV and look at the girl sleeping at your side. She's smiling, and that makes you smile. You wonder if she wants to wake up.

Gently, you grab her pendant with the other hand; the darkness didn't change one bit. It's still, like sand on a water glass. Then you look at yours, and raise it- the darkness is swirling within. Startled, you hold it closer to your face; it is getting darker. Slowly like the shadow of a skyscraper engulfing a park, the impurities are taking over your pink Soul Gem.

Maybe you are too worried.

You look at the girl; you wonder how she's called. You think her friend called her Friend, but maybe she just said that she's her friend? Friend would be a weird codename to have.

If she really was her friend, you think, then she has to come back.

(cont!)

An hour went by.

An hour went by...

...

Resting on your chest, your Soul Gem is as pink as it is black. It's high into the night, and you don't want to know how high.

Starving, you look at the girl, yet again- the smile is still there, Friend's smile, as you decided to call her, is still there. Shining on her broken bones.

They didn't make it.

On the one hand, you wish you could turn off the lights, so at least sleeping would make you forget that you are hungry. On the other hand, you don't want to sleep and risk your hand slipping, because Friend could be awakened by all the pain at once. Selfishly, yet honestly, you think that wouldn't be so bad- at least you'd have someone to talk.

An hour goes by.

You turn on the TV again, then turn it off again; it's too violent, and Scarfs knows you had violence enough. Being a Magical Girl turned out to be worse than being barely human, and you realize way too many girls fell for that trap. Little girls. Kyubey, the Incubator...he happened upon you at your lowest point, the day an idiot took your sweater off while you were sleeping and not a moment too late. You realize all these girls had touched bottom. You realize that all Magical Girls suffer. You realize why Aloe is so mature for someone her age.

An hour goes by.

You wonder if touching someone with both your hands sends twice the peace magic, but decide against giving it a shot. After all, things already work. Friend's smile is all you are holding onto, because it's a smile that you made. You were brave: you took the shot, you opened the door and told them you could help. You've let Rainbows go, you've let Weird Eyes go, you didn't let this girl go, though... With big tears on your eyes, you lift your Soul Gem again. It's less pink than black, and they didn't come back.

An hour goes by.

An hour goes by...
...

>Let her go.
>Keep holding her hand.

>>4699722
>Keep holding her hand.
If she dies, she'll turn into a Witch and we'll die as well. More importantly, a promise is a promise, let's just hope either her team or Aloe make it back in time.

>>4699722
>Keep holding her hand.
Someone has to come back.

>Keep holding her hand.

You don't let go. This Magical Girl, this complete stranger; she could be anything. A caring sister, a highschool bully, a shy bookworm, a loud prankster, a saint, a sinner, anything in between. A Friend.
To you, she's humanity as a whole.

You caress her forehead gently, feeling just a little entitled. After all, that little smile of hers is making you jealous, she's sleeping so peacefully. It's so late already, and though you are used to it, even your eyelids want to close the act.

An hour goes by.

The morning light shows you the shining dots swirling in the air, maybe to cheer you up. You are tired, your tummy hurts, your Soul Gem is calling the night.

You look at it, at your very own pendant. If it gets dark this easily, then, is there really any hope for anyone in this? That's when you remember. Scarfs couldn't get your Soul Gem any darker. It was already going darker to begin with at its own rhythm. Even though you felt no fear, back then, your Soul Gem was still turning black.

Facing the pattern, you come up with a theory: peace magic makes your Soul Gem dark. You look at the girls with the broken bones and, again, the pieces seem to fit- the more suffering you block, the more magic you use, the faster your Soul Gem gets cooked by Weird Eyes like a pancake.

You grin. It makes sense.

An hour goes by.

Your vision went blurry. The sounds seem farther. On a whim, you place your hand on the girls chest right at the center, then a bit to the left. It's faint, but you hear it: the heartbeat. Relief faintly washes over you, even though you already knew it: this wasn't all in vain.

You turn the TV on again, yet on mute because your head hurts. The swirling lights it causes when you aren't looking help you stay distracted, to think up silly stories you could tell someone keeps you awake.

An hour goes by.

Your Soul Gem is already as dark as your Friend's... Aloe's Grief Seed has been wasted, the life of a Magical Girl just like you has been spent.

You look at the girl, and tell her you are sorry that her friends abandoned her. That your friends abandoned you too. But don't worry, you tell the Friend. I won't be like them. I won't abandon you too.

An hour goes by.

An hour goes by...

You remember what Golden died to defend. You remember how she died. A black Soul Gem turns into a Witch, but a broken Soul Gem turns into dust just like anything else.

You wonder if you could live with that.

>Break her Soul Gem.
>Keep holding her hand.

>>4700428
>You wonder if you could live with that.
No.
>Keep holding her hand.

>>4700428
>Keep holding her hand.

>>4700488
>>4700504
>Keep holding her hand.

It's funny, in a way, that you feel at peace. It's not peace magic: fears and sad memories still flood your mind, but they do not bother you.

Back there, you'd spend your days alone like a chameleon, surrounded by people. You didn't understand them and they didn't understand you, yet it was you under the spotlights. Because you were weak. That's what they said.

Yet it's here, at the bottom of the barrel, that you finally found understanding, that you finally found bridges.

Magical Girls know pain.
Magical Girls know each other.

You can't help but find it funny, you can't help but smirk at the thought. That they may have been right, the normal people, that you do belong in the gutters.

Still holding that warm hand, that broken living hand, you hold your pendant high. By the looks of it, you are winning the race; there's barely any pink left.

Yet you are glad, even though it's dark, you are glad. You can't fight; Scarfs was right. Out of the two of you, Hush and the girl with broken bones, it's her who could make the most out of this life... and you aren't deluding yourself into think otherwise. At any given moment, Scarfs could come and witch you out. But this girl may stand a chance.

You feel it. Despair, like a shockwave through your veins. You wonder if you are waiting for a miracle, like in those movies where the bad guy is shot right at the end of a speech. You wonder if someone will come and save you. You wonder if hope is where despair comes from.

Before your hand is shaking too much, you put your Soul Gem in your mouth. Even if your Grief Seed could help someone else, you don't want to witch-out, not with this girl sleeping with that smile. If this is the world where Weird Eyes is wrong, where Magical Girls would rather live in pain than die in peace, then you shall leave it.

As you feel the weight of darkness, you are at peace. They were wrong. You were strong.

You bite.

File: megucalegucateguca.png (1.42 MB, 1280x723)

1.42 MB PNG

aight guis so i'll take your advice and take a break. like three days, i think. nah tho, the reality is that there's shit to do and i have to do it and id rather do one thing right than two wrong

for now ask me shit, talk me shit, tell me shit you liked, shit youdidnt, what shold change, what shouldnt, point out plotholes, bullshit, etcetcetc except grammar

i wanna get this right so criticism is all fine and dandy. just dont be an ass

>>4700755
Oh man, I think your enthusiasm for meguca suffering was a bit too much. I mean, I get it, the source material is what it is, but I suppose it's just not that fun to read or participate in.
I still stand by what I've said earlier about meaningful decisions, but I now have to amend that statement: players like meaningful _and_ informed decisions. Shooting in the dark creates tension and it's as fine a tool as any, but not when applied multiple times in a row. Otherwise you get railroad/quantum ogre impression from QM (well, he's gonna kill someone, question is who).
If someone can point out grammar errors, that would be great, I think. I am an ESL, I can't spot things like that easily and still can learn from someone with a better sense of the language.

In general, I think it was ok for a one-shot quest, I liked that these MGs are not dead-eyed murder machines. Mind-altering powers is an interesting concept to explore, especially if it is very limited so that players don't mind-rape their way to success easily. Take care, thank you for running!

>>4701518
>Oh man, I think your enthusiasm for meguca suffering was a bit too much. I mean, I get it, the source material is what it is, but I suppose it's just not that fun to read or participate in.

im a recovering edgelord. its in my veins. this setting gives me too many chances to crack, and it aint easy. i dont have a boner for meguca suffering, ive got a boner for realism in unrealistic situations. but i get it. real world is depressing enough, and we just wanna have fun

>I still stand by what I've said earlier about meaningful decisions, but I now have to amend that statement: players like meaningful _and_ informed decisions. Shooting in the dark creates tension and it's as fine a tool as any, but not when applied multiple times in a row. Otherwise you get railroad/quantum ogre impression from QM (well, he's gonna kill someone, question is who).

gimme examples. choices are hard.

and im already wary about grammar. if its shit, dont worry, its gonna get better

>>4701518
I don't know if it's time to call it the end yet, there's still space for some deus ex machina. I mean, we nearly died at the start there and I thought our demise has come when
>The last sound you hear
>The last you see is green
Can QM confirm quest end?
>>4701538
Example: a situation where we can choose to (somehow) assist in killing a witch or help with improving the condition of some MG. Thing is, we know the witch hunt has a fair chance to succeed without us, but there could be casualties if we don't show up. But the MG is also important, and serves as a mediator in a turf war between two groups.
Essentially, offer more information about what we can definitely do, and what the consequences are. So far we've been guessing a lot: will Rainbows witch out at the concert, or is she actually fine and will hold out for months yet? Can we help in a fight with a witch, or would we be a bother? Does Weird Eyes have a plan when confronting the witch? What if it's reckless? etc.

>>4701598
>Can QM confirm quest end?
confirming quest didn't end. it resumes here in three days

>>4701598

oh i think i know what you guys are getting at. if the information of a choice is loose enough i could just railroad whatever the fuck i want by pulling out info that wasnt given at the moment, that wasn't in the equation. if thats it then trust me, i took into the account, only maybe just fucking it up bad enough that it wasnt noticeable

lemme give a few examples for the sake of learning:

rainbows was fucked up on no sleep all life doing 2302 things at once. i thought, there has to be a definitive clue about her witching out or not, and they have to be able to see it /now/. so i decided to leave some breadcrumbs.

there is a drought
weird eyes is the oldest magical girl barely at 21.
rainbows is investing hardcore in her future at both college and becoming an idol.
rainbows is fucked up beyond worry

even if she did manage to get everything she wanted and everything went alright, in the end, rainbows was still wasting time on her short life for a future that wouldnt come one way or the other. thats what kept her from sleeping, the anxiety herself was hiding in order to avoid the truth. i laid that out to be figured out

so how the fuck would the players make sure of that if she feel asleep whenever hush touched her? easy: by forcing her down. however, that would have been too obvious a choice, so i had to make it harder and added /the concert/

anon pointed out a valid point, that messing up her concert could fuck her up enough to make her witch out. which is true; but it would have given Hush a chance to intervene and come up with something, to compensate the loss somehow like by pushing the date of the concert or straight up making Rainbows realize it wasnt a gateway to anything

as you can see, there was an idea lol. the implementation may have sucked ass, but i did want to give you guys real choices with consequences

another good example would be the chances Hush had to go fight a Witch. i thought, hey, maybe anon would wonder what the fuck our powers do to a Witch- but even if they didn't, i had Weird Eyes point out that Hush could take down a bouncer if she wanted to show she was strong, and then have anons get Hush to do something silly like jump ten meters to prove it because ive already shown that peace magic could prevent people from witching out and therefore be useful.

back then there was a choice to send hush to help them, and the question was, 'how in the name of fuck will i know if this girl will witch out before i come back or not?', contrasting, 'how will i know if these girls will come back or not when they couldn't finish off the witch when they were three?'. this one wasn't meant to be a solution; you can't know either way. it was just a gateway to the situation where you'd get the problem that you can measure. the rule was, if you can't measure it, you can't fix it, it isn't a choice yet

tldr; im still learning

>>4701673
tldr: QM actually provides information, but we're retarded and missed all the hints again lmao

aight guys its gonna be more than three days, got thesis and shit but more importantly planning

green anon here has a point; quest has to be fun. im gonna work on it and come back ready, so take this chance to ask me shit youd like to see and ill try to work it in. im doing the quest i like, but it also has to be the quest you like

aight you fucks post tomorrow, who here yet?

>>4708602
>>4701693 reporting in. Not even a week has passed, I'd expect people to still be around. By people I mean us three anons who've been voting semi-regularly.

Intermission!
(There's nothing to do during intermissions. Sit back and wait.)

Yellow lights hurt your eyes; that's all you know. From your head, you feel your own Big Bang gain strenght, slowly, your own universe getting stitched together. You feel your neck: it's numb. You feel the fringe on your forehead, itching. You feel your hands on your thighs, your chest, your beating heart, the blood flowing through your veins, your body floating in the void, whole.

You are not in the void anymore.

Finally, you discern the wooden ceiling, each and every little detail of it. The broken wooden beams, the dark gaps between each plank, the charred black holes-

Friend. Rainbows. Weird Eyes. Aloe. Beck.

Scarfs.

You gasp; alive.

You come down to a couple of funny looking human faces, girl faces, Magical Girl faces, you'd bet. They all look at you as you just found them changing clothes. You blink, and blink, and blink. Then you hear someone say something.

"Holy shit", or rather whisper it, "it works."

You turn towards the faint sound. The girl it came from is a sharp looking face, under wilder looking golden hair,

"GIRL, WHAT," you hear someome shout from behind her, and it's a girl wearing a cop hat. "WHAT. Wasn't this like a test or something?"

"Not anymore," the blonde says as she walks to you, her sharp features never going soft. "Ok, oh fuck, talk to me."

You are about to, but then you notice something familiar, something on the hand she's clutching near her chest. Something pink. You mutter it under you breath: soul gem?

"DUDE, SHE TALKS," you hear yet someone else /yell/ from somewhere. "HOOOOLY FUUUCK, it this ain't some bible bullshit going down right here holy F

"SHH".

"DUDE NO WAY."

But right as you are about to say another word, you flinch out of reflex at the light right in front of your eyes.

"Pupils are a go," the blonde mutters, "Stand still."

You try to say something but find a hand going down your sweater from your neck then something on your chest, so cold that you jump back.

"Heartbeats," the blonde babbles absent-mindedly, "red cheeks. Blood is flowing fine."

"Reflexes too," a shrill voice points out, then laughs.

"Fuck, what else, what else" then the blonde desperately shakes a finger in front of you. "Follow my finger, look at it, look at the goddamned finger."

Scared, you ask her what's going on, but end up following the finger anyway-

-which seems to send the blonde into a trance. "Ok, we should wait, no, we should try, no, wait, I see," you barely make out from under her breath.

And right as you are finally about to ask what the fuck is going on the blonde shoves that very finger down your throat, making you gag and cover your mouth, spit leaking from your hand as you grab onto something to your right. Now angry, you turn to face the blonde- only to find her still, looking straight at you, as the other three girls gather behind her.

"God almighty, fuck me," she rumbles loudly, "I just brought someone back from the dead."

Your anger vanishes like fire under dirt as you stop to ponder about what this other blonde, not the one you are used to, just said.

"Wait, memory check," yet she brings you back to Earth at once. "Tell me something you remember. It can be anything."

You tell her you remember her being mean not a minute ago.

"Longer than that," she says, "from before the coma."

Coma? Huh... huh??? You ask the blonde girl what happened- but then you keep talking- with the girl?

"What girl?" she asks.

The girl, you say, the Magical Girl. The Friend, you insist.

And she slaps herself in the face, hard enough to startle you.

"...she actually remembers," the blonde says, pale. She then turns to the others, ignoring you completely. "You may now call me Bitch Jesus, or god help me, I will turn your blood into wine."

"Fine by me," one answers.

You look around: carpets. Piles of carpets, carpets on the wall, of every shape and color, machines that span from the wall, warm yellow lights; it's a carpet storage room.

You turn around and swallow. Reclined over carpets lies a comfy looking, lidless coffin.

The flicker of a lighter draws you back. It's the blonde, with a cigarette on her mouth. "Jesus," she mutters.

You ask again, this time as loud as any of them, what happened to the Friend.

"Friend lives," the new blonde says before turning around. She takes the time to just look at you, which is unnerving. "Friend just saved your life."

"Girl don't you mean that Copy girl?"

"Who gives a shit."

Friend, Copy; you sigh, slowly, deeply. She's alive. At the least, at the very least, she's alive. Like Aloe, like Weird Eyes, like Beck, you saved someone else.

It fills you with a powerful, warm feeling.

When the feeling starts to fade, when you are done smiling, when you remember that you are in a room with other people... you finally notice your hands. White, shining white, the blankest thing you've ever seen; the bandages. You lift both hands, both covered, not completely, in white bandages, with loose strands so long that they go from your hands to the height of your knees. You touch your face, then, and it's the same; what you thought was fringe at first is a bandage going over your forehead. Then there's another over your nose, then another under your chin, then you realize that they are all over your body gripping you from under your clothes.

"No girl, don't touch that," the blonde warns you as you try to unravel the one on your right hand. "That's keeping you alive."

...you look at her. Short velvet black coat on a crimson blouse, long black skirt that's half the length on one side- and a grimoire tattoo on the thigh she shows. And she just said that.

"Those will have to stay on, like, forever," she warns you. "Your body is dead. Technically. And those bandages wrapped around you are forcing it to do the maintenance tasks it did on its own before."

...your body is dead. Your body is dead. You ask her what that means, only once.

"I'll put it this way: you are a Mummy now," it's what she answers. "The ancient Egyptians used a special process called 'embalming' on the dead bodies of their fallen so they wouldn't rot. Much like that, my magic is keeping you alive- and you may call me Wrapper."

...you let that sink. A Mummy. It's so vague, and it could mean so many other things that you can't help but ask something else. You ask the air how long you've been sleeping.

"You've been knocked for like a month, missing girl," one of the other girl answers. "Best nap of your life, yo."

You look at the bandages on your hands again, then around. The loose strands, long and white, come out from many parts of your body, apparently immune to the push of air.

This... is off.

News:
-Hush has been asleep for a month.
-Whatever that means, Hush is now a /Mummy/ in addition to being a Magical Girl.

The very hand you are looking at gets grabbed with a white rubber glove, then dragged with a yelp. But you bury both feet together, and anchor yourself to the ground.

It's the blonde, Wrapper. She looks back.

"What?" She asks. "Don't you want to meet the Friend?"

Your eyes lighten up; but you force yourself to get angry and tell the blonde she could have asked you nicely.

Who smirks, softly. "Girl, I just saved your life. I pretty much own that cute little ass. Now shut your trap, be grateful, and come."

She pushes you even harder, and this time you let her. Letting yourself get pushed around makes you angry, but you'll let it happen this time, and only because everything is so odd. You glance around at the machinery and rugs and carpets, at the vastness of the room as you are dragged across it, at the conveyor belts you walk past. You ask where you are.

"The East," Wrapper replies fast, yet at least walking slower, "in one of its many abandoned factories. The ladies here were kind enough to let our Friend keep you here."

"For like 200 a month," someone says.

You let go of Wrapper, yet keep walking behind her. There's a big door at the end of the room, and past that gate a hallway with many more gates.

"Go through that one," Wrapper tells you. "Wake her up."

You look at the simple wooden door; it has what looks like a banana carved over the knob. Gasping a little, you push slowly.

The room is dark, except for the white light seeping through the gaps of a folding curtain, some bigger than others. Thanks to it, you make out a bed, and, through layers, a peaceful face you know.

And how couldn't you; you've been staring at it for almost a whole detail. No detail is a stranger to you. Friend is there, under the weight of cozy darkness.

Feeling the wall at your side, you make out the light switch, but hesitate. Instead, you head into the darkness and sit next to her; you wonder if you ever really left that place. Then you whisper, friend, friend, friend, louder each time, caressing her forehead with the sleeve of your sweater. Grumbling in her sleep, she turns around. A giggle escapes you.

Friend, you repeat, friend, shaking her shoulder.

She snores.

...

Maybe she wants to sleep.

"Hurry!" you hear from the door.

Fine; you'll apologize later. You stand, and turn on the light. It's only then that you notice the funky looking jester hat on her head, with bells that look like eyes hanging from every tip, that starts from a fedora. It can't be anything else: Friend fell asleep on her costume.

And finally, she shakes, she turns, she looks at you. As if you weren't there.

"What time is it?" she asks you, every word in the exact same tone. You don't know, and you tell her. "Ten more minutes," she says and turns.

But when you tell her to wait, she turns to you again. Finally, you can see her eyes: blue, perfectly normal, and so dry.

"What?" Friend asks, tersely. "Who are you?"

You blink and blink. Right. The bandages. Oh, but you can't take them off. You tell Friend that you are good and awake now, that you pulled through.

Who just nods. "Good for you," Friend says, not even looking at your general direction.

You then thank her for taking care of you all this time, and that you are glad to see her safe.

"Cool," she answers. "I'm going to sleep."

You smile gently at her and nod, then turn off the lights.

"WAIT."

The word stops you dead in your tracks. You turn on the lights and turn around, only to find Friend's crouching on the bed, eyes wide as plates, She looks at you in perfect silence for a solid five seconds.

"Who, who are you," Friend asks, her words gaining tone, soul, fear, and rhythm.

And yet again you don't get to say your part of the script, because Friend, looking as if she owed ten thousand dollars to a russian gang made entirely of hurricanes, has jumped from the bed to clutch your shoulders /hard/.

"..Hush? Hush? HUSH?? HUSHHH?!?!?" Friend goes completely highwire, shaking you as if you could spit coins. "IS THAT YOU?! IS THIS HUSH?"

She finds you cowering when you finally manage to meet eyes and nod gently. Friend then takes another good five seconds to just look at you, your hair, your face, your clothes.

"What?" she finally manages to say, her voice breaking. "What?"

But when you are about to say something, you find her crying waterfalls.

"What?" she asks again, the word just barely different from a whimper.

"That's right, shit for brains," and its Wrapper, gently splitting you from Friend. "You won."