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>>5083609
You wake up in the morning on the floor in your home, Mom asleep in her rarely used bedroom, door slightly ajar, Rebecca also asleep next to you. Your body is sore because you were, of course, sleeping on the fucking floor, but you feel calm, at peace... a little rejuvenated. Yeah. You feel... better?

Hopefully this lasts a- who are we kidding? Something bad is going to happen today, isn't it? Your alchemy sense, that static cling in the back of your neck, isn't going off... but...

>Squish that feeling down! It's a Sunday, Rebecca is still here. Take advantage of the good vibes and enjoy the day. Maybe start it off right by making her breakfast in bed... er... couch?
>Call FOODS and see if you can get Rebecca an invisible escort home and an increased security detail today? Your Bad Vibe Detector is going off the charts.
>Wake your mother up and inform her that you have no idea how to explain it but you think something bad might happen today, please keep the gun close.
>Just squeeze Rebecca's hand and go back to sleep. Enjoy this moment lest we go insane from stress.
>Free Option.

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Noah's Dossier
Physical Health: Mediocre
Mental Health: Mediocre
Strength: Middling
Agility: Mediocre

Grades: Above-Average
Intelligence: Middling

Pneuma Reserves: Excellent
Pneuma Control: Poor
Alchemical Sense: Excellent

Alchemical Styles
Forge Alchemy - Level 1
Mobility Alchemy - Level 1
Architectural Alchemy - Level 1
First Aid Alchemy - Level 1
Resonance Alchemy - Level 1
Biomedical Alchemy (Forbidden) - Level 1
Egregoric Alchemy (Forbidden) - Level 1

>>5083610
>Call FOODS and see if you can get Rebecca an invisible escort home and an increased security detail today? Your Bad Vibe Detector is going off the charts.

>>5083610
>>Squish that feeling down! It's a Sunday, Rebecca is still here. Take advantage of the good vibes and enjoy the day. Maybe start it off right by making her breakfast in bed... er... couch?

>>5083610
>Squish that feeling down! It's a Sunday, Rebecca is still here. Take advantage of the good vibes and enjoy the day. Maybe start it off right by making her breakfast in bed... er... couch?

>>5083610
>>Squish that feeling down! It's a Sunday, Rebecca is still here. Take advantage of the good vibes and enjoy the day. Maybe start it off right by making her breakfast in bed... er... couch?
can't fight dragons on an empty stomach

>>5083801
>>5083892
>>5084834
No. No. Nope. No. We are squishing that feeling down. Can't fight Dragons on an empty stomach, anyway. No, everything is fine, you just are developing an intense, battle-honed sense of paranoia from your experiences and it's going haywire because of the circumstances but that doesn't mean anything bad is actually going to happen. Your alchemic sense isn't going off, which means not only are there probably not any Dragons nearby, but nobody's doing any alchemy, and you know that you've got a well honed sense for that, like a bloodhound.

You're going to enjoy this day, and nothing can stop you. With Halloween fast approaching on Wednesday, you just hope whatever's in your gut waits until after you've had your candy shits before summoning forth the omens you can feel creeping up your spine into reality.

You could really go for a Snickers.

You meander into the kitchen. Cooking was never really your... specialty? You and your mother eat a slightly inordinate amount of takeout and prepackaged foods, so there's, like, a lot of Chef Boyardee in here, a lot of bread, you know... Not, like, poverty food? But not exactly the sort of stuff Josh has in his fridge.

You take stock of what's in the fridge and cabinet and consider your plan of attack while Rebecca snores, a thin, reedy, adorable whistle, on the couch.

>It is impossible to fuck up frozen waffles. Make a bunch of frozen waffles. Who are you trying to impress, tough guy?
>It's not like you make a habit of making scrambled eggs but, like... you crack the egg into a pan on the stove with some butter and then you fuck it around until it's done. Right? And then you toast some toast.
>Well, you have bread, you have eggs, you have time to burn, she's still asleep. You've never made French Toast before but that feels difficult enough to impress.
>Maybe it's time to make the evil Dr. Mengele soul stuck in your blood to pay rent? Bother your possible-Egregores for ideas. [Free Option]
>Free Option.

>>5084929
>Maybe it's time to make the evil Dr. Mengele soul stuck in your blood to pay rent? Bother your possible-Egregores for ideas. [Free Option]
I can't NOT pick this.
>What's dad's favorite dish?

>>5084929
>Maybe it's time to make the evil Dr. Mengele soul stuck in your blood to pay rent? Bother your possible-Egregores for ideas. [Free Option]
>Free Option.
Do some basic bitch research on how to cook. We're talking poor college kid levels of cooking here. Boiled eggs with a pinch of salt, sandwiches made of cucumbers and mayo, scrambled eggs. Omelets.

>>5084929
>It is impossible to fuck up frozen waffles. Make a bunch of frozen waffles. Who are you trying to impress, tough guy?
Don't fuck with the egregores guys.

>>5084951
egregores who? I just joined.

>>5084957
Egregores are pieces of other people's souls. There's a couple we're pretty sure are inside Noah, and we suspect there's a metric fuckton more that's giving him so much power he gets seizures.

So far we've identified [Probably Dad] and some chick we healed and accidentally soul nibbled.

>>5084962
>Don't fuck with the egregores guys.
Screw that other anon, asking soul chunks how to cook sounds like a great idea!

>>5084968
Considering they're a product of alchemy so forbidden that the last known practitioner of it was basically unpersoned, maybe not.

>>5084974
We're aware of them, they're aware of us. Who are they gonna tell, the magic police?

>>5084975
The better question is what they're gonna do to our soul.

>>5084995
We should find out.

>>5084929
>Maybe it's time to make the evil Dr. Mengele soul stuck in your blood to pay rent? Bother your possible-Egregores for ideas. [Free Option]

>>5085032
>>5084948
>>5084950
You quietly grunt to yourself with a sort of strange resolve - if you have a bunch of souls swimming around inside of you, or mind fragments, or whatever, then perhaps its time they start paying rent. You... aren't exactly sure how to summon this up, so while you're looking at your phone for ideas, you're also trying to clench your ass deep into your gut like that one anime protagonist you've vaguely heard about on the internet. Really, anything you can do to try and... contact them?

Your brain swims with ideas. "Poor college kid levels of cooking", which is not exactly a subject you'd consider yourself well-versed in. Some sort of argument between yourself and yourself telling you to not fuck with Egregores, which you find yourself both agreeing with and disregarding with a sort of amusingly reckless abandon. You go over, in your head, what exactly an Egregore is, for no particular reason. You have a little anxiety about your soul. You think about Dad's cooking.

...You think about your Dad's favorite food, and somehow, something comes to mind. There's like a pressure in between the hemispheres of your brain, some sort of sensation like what you'd imagine a candy wrapper feels when it's getting sucked into a weak vacuum cleaner, slowly crumpling in on itself. You feel the edges of your vision turning white and push past it, drawing some sort of memory from the aether. A memory you're not party to.

Your mother. Younger, less wrinkled. Smiling, laughing at a dinner table. She's wearing a lovely dress, and then you snap back to reality like you've been punched in the chest, stumbling back violently into the bannister of the stairwell, narrowly avoiding breaking something. The fridge is still open, staring at you expectantly, wafting cold all over the kitchen.

Sheepishly, you close it. You have a headache, but at least you're not passed out, bleeding on the floor. That was... informative.

>One of your Egregores(? Maybe?) was talking eggs. Eggs sounds easy. Your Dad probably cooked eggs. Maybe if you're trying to draw memories out of the soul soup that might or might not be inside of you, you can try to draw out a memory of cooking eggs?
>Apologize sheepishly and out loud to your Dad for accidentally intruding on a sensitive memory, and then ask him(/his... soul? Maybe?) if he can give you any good ideas.
>You don't need to dive this deep, man. You're already in shaky shape, push it too far and you're gonna be a bloody mess on the floor with a nosebleed. We can figure out this weird soul shit when we are a little more physically hardy.
>Free Option.

>>5086156
Oh god oh fuck oh shit. That's what (you) >>5084951 were talking about.
...We're the Egregores, at least a good chunk of the mundane ones.

>Apologize sheepishly and out loud to your Dad for accidentally intruding on a sensitive memory, and then ask him(/his... soul? Maybe?) if he can give you any good ideas.

>>5086156
>You don't need to dive this deep, man. You're already in shaky shape, push it too far and you're gonna be a bloody mess on the floor with a nosebleed. We can figure out this weird soul shit when we are a little more physically hardy.

>>5086156
>Apologize sheepishly and out loud to your Dad for accidentally intruding on a sensitive memory, and then ask him(/his... soul? Maybe?) if he can give you any good ideas.

>>5086194
>>5086167
"Sorry about that. Didn't mean to intrude." You mumble to yourself, trying not to catch any sight of yourself in any reflective surface. You have a feeling if you did you would immediately begin feeling like you are an insane person, moreso than you already do, and would prefer not to do that at this current moment in time. "If you want to help, I'd appreciate it." You mumble to yourself, with just the same amount of lack of condifence.

You glance left. You glance right. Both of them are still asleep. You clench your ass up and try to draw into your own head again, feeling that white hot sensation crackling at the edge of your vision, and push past it, immediately snapping back to reality sitting on the floor.

You notice a couple of things immediately. One, you have a headache that makes you feel like you are literally going to explode into a geyser of blood, like that one movie about the psychics you watched yesterday with Rebecca. Scammers, or something like that? No, Scanners, that was it. You feel like your head is going to explode, Scanners-style. The other thing you notice is that the clock is forward five minutes, although everyone is still asleep. The third thing you notice is that the kitchen is set up for cooking, with butter fizzing in the widest pan you have access to, a spatula set out on the countertop, a couple of eggs cracked in a bowl, salt, pepper, the works.

Well. You probably shouldn't try that again, but it looks like your brain has made the decision about what to make for breakfast for y-when did you put on an apron? Where did you even find an apron???

>Look, there's an easy way to do this and a hard way and the easy way is "dump the eggs into the pan and fry them".
>You know what's even easier than that? Scramble them. No worrying about how over or underdone the yolk is then.
>Wait, you can still turn this into French toast!
>Eat a raw egg.
>Free Option

>>5087407
>You know what's even easier than that? Scramble them. No worrying about how over or underdone the yolk is then.

>>5087407
>Wait, you can still turn this into French toast!
>Free Option
Look around for notes? Maybe we wrote some down when we were zoned out.

>>5087407
This is almost definitely not the way you're supposed to use egregoric alchemy. Oh well!
>The eggs are in the bowl, that means you're SUPPOSED to mix them. The only question is how
>Throw some milk in the mix to pretend like you know what you're doing, then it's time to screw around.
>Put the egg on the wide pan and just keep flipping the cooked bits over and over until you have some kind of multi-layered omelette thing.

>>5087531
Cooking is like alchemy, but mundane!
A-actual alchemy, I mean. With Aqua Regia and shit.

Gotta skip tonight for exhaustion reasons, sorry fellas. Thank you all for reading so far!

>>5087407
>You know what's even easier than that? Scramble them. No worrying about how over or underdone the yolk is then.
Ok thanks, we’ll take it from here. Oh, we should add a splash of milk into the scrambled eggs to fluff them up. That’ll leave an impression.

>>5087427
>>5087531
>>5089706
You check around for notes, hoping that, uh, with whatever just happened, you had the presence of mind to take some. Unfortunately for you, it seems exactly the opposite had occurred. There are, in fact, no notes, and outside of a nagging feeling that this is probably not the intended usage of egregoric alchemy, you think you've absorbed enough Cooking Knowledge from pop culture to figure out where to go from here.

You spend a couple of minutes preparing everything, throwing some bread into the toaster so that there is toast and beating the eggs with a fork. You want to stop early, but a little nagging voice in your head tells you to keep going, so by the time your arm has basically given up the ghost, the eggs have been beaten more or less completely smooth. There's some milk and salt and pepper, because you know those are things that have to go into eggs, but otherwise you're just sort of going off vibes here.

The pan is hot and sizzling, and you just sort of... dump the eggs in there, and then go run the bowl under water until its free of lingering egg-goop stuck to the sides. By the time you come back, the eggs have already begun to form a yellowy skin of, uh, cooked eggs around the edges, so you do what feels like the natural thing to do here and just sort of start pushing the eggs around? Your spatula fits right into the curves of the pan, so you just push the cooked stuff towards the center, watching as the egg bunches up on itself like a ribbon. Then, the fresh liquid egg pools into the newly vacated space underneath, and you repeat the process but a couple inches around the circumference.

You keep doing this for a couple of minutes and by the time the toast pops out of the toaster with a polite, and, thankfully, quiet little ding!, the eggs are... probably done? You don't make eggs very often (ever) but they look cooked and have a slight brownish, cooked tint to them. You imagine that means they are done.

You slide it off onto a plate, blessing the invention of non-stick pans, and then divide it into three portions and put one each on two other plates. Then, you give them each their requisite toast so that everyone has two pieces. Silently, you tiptoe into your mother's rarely-used bedroom, watching your mother sleep with a sense of strange, seemingly unearned peace washing over your brain, and put the food upon her nightstand for her to wake up to. Then, you remember something and go grab some cling wrap from the drawers to gently drape over it. To... protect it from the elements? That makes sense.

Then, you get your plate and the plate for the still-sleeping (somehow) Rebecca and bring them both over to the couch. You set them down on the coffee table, and then sit down on the floor.

>>5089877
>You did it! Wake Rebecca up to eat in celebration of your accomplishments, and because you just made her breakfast and its warm. You can sleep more afterwards.
>Would *you* want to be woken up on the weekend after staying up late, even if you did get made breakfast in bed? Just go play on your phone until she's awake.
>Free Option.

>>5089877
That has been significantly more voting hivemind than the last couple threads.
>Would *you* want to be woken up on the weekend after staying up late, even if you did get made breakfast in bed?
>Try taking your own notes right now. How much of that just now was....YOU?

>>5089877
>Would *you* want to be woken up on the weekend after staying up late, even if you did get made breakfast in bed? Just go play on your phone until she's awake.

>>5089892
+1
Yeah, glad to see this Quest finally getting some love. It's a nice story, and taking the time to unwind here is pretty comfy. Worried about the bad vibes, though. We should go check on Saint soon. Don't want our friend to die.

>>5089880
>Would *you* want to be woken up on the weekend after staying up late, even if you did get made breakfast in bed? Just go play on your phone until she's awake.

>>5089892
>>5089900
>>5090180
>>5089909
You are reasonably certain that everything you just did was mostly you. You kept an eye on the clock the entire time and didn't notice any missing time, the way that you think happens to people when they encounter weird Alchemy slash Dragon related stuff they aren't prepared to deal with. The clock advanced normally.

That being said, minor moment of introspection over, you introspect slightly more and come to the reasonable conclusion that even if you did make breakfast in bed, you would not want to be woken up for it on a weekend. Instead, you get up, grab some more cling wrap, and proceed to apply it to both plates so that the food will remain, like, unspoiled, or whatever. You realize that the toast might get a little soggy from the heat condensation but also that you think not waking Rebecca up is worth it. It's the thought that counts, right?

So, breakfast made, you just sort of chill on the ground on your pillow bed playing around on your phone until she wakes up. Well, you do that for a bit, but then you actually just end up falling asleep again, only to be woken up with...

Woken up with...!

Rebecca saying "Aww!" quite loudly and gently jostling you awake with her hand. To be honest, some part of your brain was fully convinced you'd wake up to your rowhome on fire, or something like that. You keep feeling like something bad is going to happen and then are slightly surprised when everything is fine, actually. "Did you wake up early to make me breakfast? That's really sweet, dude."

"Actually, my mom made it." You reply, grinning blearily as you blink the interrupted sleep out of your eyes. Rebecca rolls her own and then gives you a playful little shove. The two of you... begin to eat. There's no fanfare. Apparently Rebecca likes to make a toast sandwich out of her eggs and toast, while you've always been more of an "eats them separately" sort of fella. World of contrasts.

"What's on the docket today, lover boy?" Rebecca asks with a mouth full of breakfast food, covering her lips to try and prevent any crumbs from spilling out. Somehow, you find it endearing.

>"To be quite honest, I think if I have to do any more actual work right now I'd neck myself so let's just stay inside and watch more movies?"
>"I was planning on checking in on one of my friends from the whole superhero thing. I have a slightly bad vibe and I'm sort of worried about him, if that's alright with you?"
>"...Honestly I was just planning on sleeping in. Care to join me?"
>Free Option.

>>5091108
>Free Option.
Potato Cannon. I don't need to say anymore.

>>5091108
>"I was planning on checking in on one of my friends from the whole superhero thing. I have a slightly bad vibe and I'm sort of worried about him, if that's alright with you?"

>>5091108
>>"I was planning on checking in on one of my friends from the whole superhero thing. I have a slightly bad vibe and I'm sort of worried about him, if that's alright with you?"

>>5091108
>>"I was planning on checking in on one of my friends from the whole superhero thing. I have a slightly bad vibe and I'm sort of worried about him, if that's alright with you?"

>>5091120
>>5091153
>>5091248
"If it's all the same to you, I was actually planning on checking in on one of my friends from the whole... superhero thing." You say, waving your hands a little around noncommittally. Her face goes stern and serious. "I have a slightly... bad vibe and I'm sort of worried about him?... Or her? I'm actually... not sure. But either way, I'm worried about them, if that's... alright with you?"

Rebecca leans forward and plants a big, impressive kiss on your lips and then a much quicker peck on your nose. "Just don't die, alright? I haven't fucked you yet and that would be a tragedy."

"Rebecca!" You hiss, trying not to break into a laughing fit. "What kind of a comic book heroine uses the word "fuck" so casually?"

She grins. "I don't recall ever calling myself that. I'm just the love interest, I can say "fuck" however much I want."

You do not point out to her that you think by most definitions of "fucked" you'd be-- actually, never mind, thinking about it is giving you a headache that you think might be your dad's soul in your brain revolting at the thought. Or maybe you're just immature, which is only slightly more likely. "Right you are, then."

She slaps you on the back, nice and firm, waking you right up. "Go get 'em, tiger. I'll go grab a Lyft home or something."

You kiss her back, aiming for the forehead, but she grabs you by the hair and forces you downwards so you end up mashing lips inelegantly anyway. Then she lets go.

>Your bad vibes intensify with every growing moment. Just head to the scrapyard on the double.
>No, wait. If this is the day when everything blows up and you're going to fight a Three-star Dragon that's not already severely wounded, you're going to need to make some people aware. Contact someone. [Free Option, contact as many people as you like].
>Free Option.

>>5092141
>Head over to FOODS. If they get a call about some high collateral fighting, you'll be in the safest place to be in and the quickest place to know.

>>5092141
>Your bad vibes intensify with every growing moment. Just head to the scrapyard on the double.
I'm coming frens!

>>5092141
>Your bad vibes intensify with every growing moment. Just head to the scrapyard on the double.
What would we say to our contacts anyway?

>Your bad vibes intensify with every growing moment. Just head to the scrapyard on the double.

The Jabberwock was just the warmup. Now's the real test; time to earn our stripes.
Put those Excellent Reserves to use, boy!

Gotta pass on tonight, got my Double Autism shot and my arm feels like it's been ran over by a truck. Thank you all for reading!

>>5093306
The second shot can really take you out, yeah.

I expected it to get better tonight but it unfortunately did not (it got worse!) so I kindly request one more day of break while my arm recovers. Apologies, readers!

Arm's better, I still feel like death but I've got a quest to write and my writing implement works now so let's go.
>>5092164
>>5092167
>>5092508
You've had a lovely, pleasant morning. You've discovered an... interesting apparent new fact about yourself, and you made dinner for your mom, and gotten a kiss from a girl you've liked, and all of it has felt like delaying the inevitable.

There's no more time to waste. You know you should be staying away, but call it a hero complex or whatever, maybe call it a Spider Sense (you've been doing your research! a little bit...), you know something is wrong. You call an Uber and burn the extra little bit of your allowance on getting that kind of Uber where they come to you first. You're in a rush. You need to go. You need to move.

The driver is a person you do not pay attention to, because the more you think, the more your body feels overcome with a cold rush of anxiety. You get in and grip the bottle of mace in your pocket, hoping it'll do you good. There is music on the radio but you can't perceive it through the thumping in your ears. You hope so desperately that you're just having an anxiety attack and you're catastrophizing hardcore and nothing is wrong.

"Alright, stay safe, kid. Uh... Remember to call 911 if something bad happens?" You hear the Uber driver say when they drop you off a block away from the scrapyard. The second the door opens, your danger signals all immediately alight, hair standing on end, air full of static electricity. You do not give the man a thank you, just a little reminder to yourself that you need to tip him lots when you're done if you're not dead.

You jab yourself with a modified Epipen full of Dragon venom. You found a spare lying around.

You break out into a sprint.

>>5095551
"Oh, Noah. It's a pleasure to see you here. You've saved me a great deal of trouble." Father Benedict says, the battered, bloody bodies of Saint and Dog both lying on the ground, the two of them in full Draconic form. Your heart plummets.

"Oh, were you going to come after me next? Chug my piss, old man." You bite back, feeling the venom rush through your veins. It's weird how you've never been able to pay attention to it too hard until now, the way it adds a slight sting and tingle to your insides, like that enzymatic sensation of chewing on pineapple but inside your arteries. Your scarred hand twitches unconsciously.

Father Benedict turns around to you and raises an eyebrow. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, young man. I have no intentions of harming you, even if you are to raise a hand against me. I simply wished to thank you for bringing these malefactors together in one... erm... location of convenience?" He says, smiling wide. A nice, genuine wide smile. "It certainly made my job easier."

"Saint!" You yell between grit teeth. "He didn't do anything to you. He was trying to fix himself. You're a monster."

Father Benedict adjusts his glasses until the light glimmering off them from the afternoon sun hides his eyes from your face. "Young one, there is much for you to learn about the ways of the world. They are the true monsters, for if they were not, they would not have taken this ugly shape. If the LORD our God wished them be as the good folk and the innocent lamb, he would not have given them fangs and claws." He speaks, with all the careful intonation of a preacher chastising his flock for unruly behavior. "This is just. This is how it should be. If it were not, then it would not have happened. Do you understand?"

He sets down a small, carrying-around sized bible on the ground. "I am an agent of His will. If He wished for them to live, then they would have struck me down. He did not, and so, they deserve their fates. God is in His heaven, all is right with the world."

>"You're *insane*." Deck him.
>Look around for Kabuki. Keep Benedict distracted somehow. Is there a sneak attack in the works?
>Start crying like a bitch. You are *overflowing* with emotion, you wouldn't blame yourself.
>Begin the counterattack. He said he wouldn't raise a hand against you. (Free Option - Alchemy)
>Free Option.

>>5095552
>"That was somehow the LEAST convincing thing I've ever heard from a priest, and a couple of them tried to tell me santa was real."
>BOUNCE towards him, but not at him. Let loose a non-alchemy dose of Mace and get to a pile of scrap you can throw ineffectually at him.
Let's not show all our cards yet.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO
I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FIGHT
BUT I KNOW WHAT MUST BE SAID
SNAPPY ONE-LINER TIME
>"Then may the Lord give me the strength to strike you down, too. No take-backs."

Okay. So. Here's my idea. Currently er can't get him in a straight fight; he's more experienced, more durable, and we don't know how much damage he took - if any - during his fight with them.
Grab Saint and the Junkyard Dragon (presumably), buy a few seconds, and then try to wake them up with bioalchemy.
Can we get a quick summary of our surroundings (what's the floor made of, how close are we to the nearest scrap pile, do we have our battle gear on us, etc)? I have something in the works.

>>5095640
>bioalchemy
yeah uh

That carries a significant risk of straight up turning Noah into a Dragon. Just so you know. It's forbidden for a reason.

>>5095646
Shit, you're right. Thankfully the effect I wanted was only to AWAKEN them, which First Aid Alchemy should be able to do. Smelling salts or something similar?

Without further details, here's the best I could come up with. Runs the risk of going OOM, but we definitely can't beat him in endurance, and he's a flyer in Dragon form.
>BOUNCE towards Saint and the other guy. Try First Aid Alchemy to AWAKEN Saint and the other guy, like a smelling-salts effect. Adrenaline is a thing, too, right? ENERGIZE them and get them moving.
>Perform a fighting retreat to the nearest pile of chains. There's gotta be some around here, it's a *scrapyard.* LENGTHEN and swing so the chains wrap around Benedict, REINFORCE so he can't just break out, then MAGNETIZE the chains into attracting every damn chunk of steel in the scrapyard. Pump as much Pneuma as you can into that last bit, your fuckhuge reserves are all you're good for.
>Hit the ground so you don't get brained by a flying car or something. At the very least, this should buy you some time to get back to Saint and flee, assuming Benedict doesn't just get pincushioned by rebar and die… but that would be too much to hope for, wouldn't it?

I'm hoping he underestimates us and assumes snaring him in chains are all we have in mind or something.
I originally planned to make spears and throw them at him ineffectually, then MAGNETIZE to surprise and fuck him up even more, but Rubberband Effect means we have to be in contact with our transmuted materials.
God, he's going to enter Dragon form and fuck us up, isn't he… Ah, well, hopefully the collateral damage distracts him, and if he does enter Dragon form at least FOODS will know something's up. Won't do shit to save us, but it's something.

>>5095637
Lmao this

>>5095689
Fuck it. Why not. This too.

Fuck, if we had more food in our stomach I would've loved to make an iron maiden out of all this metal and just PIERCE PIERCE PIERCE Benedict in his steel coffin.

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>>5095637
>>5095755
>>5095689
Your brain spins with a dozen yelling voices, each one with their own set of advice. Complicated alchemical instructions, several begging you to flee, a couple roaring to punch him in the face - before now, you thought all these myriad voices were just your conscience. The little angel and little devils on your shoulder, the same way everyone else had them. You assumed that to be a semi-literalism, that everyone's consciousness was split into components whispering advice to you, the primary mind. This was just how people were, and you never bothered to look into it more.

Now you think you know a little bit better than that. You are shaped by your experiences. You have been hewn from marble and stone by the touch of dozens resonating forward into the future. When the chips are down, you simply have more thinking room than he does. "That was somehow the least convincing thing I've ever heard from a priest, and a couple of them tried to tell me that Santa Claus was real."

He leans down quietly and sticks one leg out from under his robe, bending into a squat, stretching his limbs out. Then, the other leg. He stands up and cracks his back, then his knuckles, then his neck. "Noah. Let me tell you something about God."

You start digging your nail into your thumb, and then remember you have a switchblade. A little bit of pocket finagleing gets you to flip out enough of the edge that you can nick yourself on it, and you wipe your thumb on your own palm while he continues his sermon.

"There is an obvious contradiction within this world that is readily apparent to non-believers - that Good and Evil exist while God is alive. This must mean that God permits poverty, illness, strife, death, et cetera, which is a clear, erm... Contra... Contradiction, if God is both omnipotent and omnibenevolent. He cannot be both in a world that exists in the state that it does, so goes the common man." He rolls his shoulders backwards, gripping one with the opposite hand and squeezing until it pops, followed by the other. "However, if you understand your proper philosophical bases, the contradiction is no more. The world is just as it stands. When Evil occurs, it is to people that God has deemed worthy of punishment. When Good happens, it is a reward to the virtuous. If you are punished, it is because you are wicked. If you are rewarded, it is because you are beloved. The circle is squared. The contradiction dissolves."

"So if I fight you and win, that must mean that you're evil, and I'm good." You reply, cracking your own knuckles and rolling your neck until it pops, smearing blood against your other hand.

"And so too the other way around. You learn quickly, young man." He says, his muscles beginning to bulge, his figure swelling. He looks like he's about to rip out of his clothes... and then he stops, retracting back.

"Then may the Lord give me the strength to strike you down. No take-backs." You reply.

File: sharqmonke.png (58 KB, 551x551)

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>>5096620
You reach down to grab for your shoes, smearing them with blood, and shout "Bounce!"

"Glacio!" He invokes, whipping out a flask full of water, drinking it down, and immediately spitting it out into a foamy spray. As you take your first step, and then the other, you propel yourself into the air, a little to the side, ducking a direct offensive. For a moment, all of his water turns to sharp icicles, gaining speed from mass... and then they immediately dissolve into a fine mist in front of him, accomplishing nothing except propelling some water towards where you were a moment before.

He visibly swishes his cheeks, apparently mixing his water supply with blood, and takes another sip before spraying it out above him. Again, it crystallizes on exit, propelling itself far further than the water would go on its own before the rubberband effect kicks in and it dissolves again into a cloud of fine water particles. What is he... doing?

No. Ignore him until it becomes directly relevant. First order of business is engaging in your original plan. You skid to a halt in front of Junkyard Dog and Saint, feet away from Father Benedict, and grab your mace with your bloody hands, shaking it up like a soda can. You know what wakes you up like a motherfucker? Air horns. Getting pepper spray in your eye. They're big boys(?), they can take it. You smear blood on your throat and yell to the world "Wake up!", spraying a fine mist of pepper spray towards but not directly at Saint's face, with a thunderous noise like a loudspeaker crackling.

Father Benedict visibly winces, skidding a step back. He dips two bloodied fingers into the tip of his flask and mutters some sort of prayer, drawing up water into a thin whip, crystallizing on contact with the air. The particulate of pepper spray settles on Saint's face, and they cough and sputter, eyes weakly glaring upwards. You don't have time to examine their wounds - puncture wounds, mostly, riddled with dozens of tiny holes across their wingspan and larger, non-exiting holes across their chest, but it looks like they were hit with a shotgun. Did he do all of this with a flask of water? No. He had to have used his Dragon form. "I'm... fine..." Saint weakly sputters, wincing as they try to move their wings.

Your plan feels... nonfunctional. You are not sure you can get Saint moving right now, at least, not with traditional means, and you have your doubts that Father Benedict is going to let you sit down and bandage him up. "Don't... get... close... the spit..." Saint grunts out, throat crackling. Thankfully, from another glance, it looks like the worst of their wounds have crusted and scabbed over at this point.

"Come now, Noah. Don't keep me waiting. Show me that great and terrible fire!" Father Benedict yells, drawing out an icicle the size of a longsword with a flourish.

>>5096621
You glance around yourself, bouncing on your heels, and take a couple of skidding steps backwards so you can scoop up some junk. You grab a length of chain and a thick railroad spike, feeling more comfortable with cold metal in your warm hands.

You're in your element here. He needs to alter the environment to fit his fighting style, but you have all the supplies you need.

(Pick as many as you think you may have time to do.)
>Reshape the metal around you into something a little more suited for dealing with his small arms fire. Try to make yourself some armor that'll buy you some breathing room. (Forge Alchemy 1)
>Force = mass times acceleration. You've seen what happens when a bandsaw goes nuts and lets loose all its centripetal force in Shop class (in a safety video) - what if that was a ten pound iron chain? (Mobility Alchemy 1)
>There's plenty of metal and dirt here, and he's limited by the physical distance his water can travel. Can you pull up a full maze?... Probably not without running dry, but you can put up some walls to minimize his angles of attack. (Architectural Alchemy 1)
>Man, getting mace in your eyes really burns, right? What if you just made it literally set him on fire? Is that a thing you can do? (First Aid Alchemy...? 1)
>Noise is vibration through the air. You probably can't pop his glasses from this far away, but if you can find something to whip, you can probably intensify the volume or force enough that it can clear out the condensation clouds he's trying to create with a shockwave. (Resonance Alchemy 1)
>Try as you might - this is a Three-star Dragon that looks *barely* injured, if at all. You're going to need to get Saint and/or Dog on their feet *somehow*, even if it's an emergency blood transfusion. What's another soul in your head? (Biomedical & Egregoric Alchemy 1)
>Free Option.
>Free Option.

>>5096622
>shape the metal around you into something a little more suited for dealing with his small arms fire. Try to make yourself some armor that'll buy you some breathing room. (Forge Alchemy 1)
>>Force = mass times acceleration. You've seen what happens when a bandsaw goes nuts and lets loose all its centripetal force in Shop class (in a safety video) - what if that was a ten pound iron chain? (Mobility Alchemy 1)
Try to get the chain so he spits out the water without alchemizing it.

>>5096622
>Force = mass times acceleration. You've seen what happens when a bandsaw goes nuts and lets loose all its centripetal force in Shop class (in a safety video) - what if that was a ten pound iron chain? (Mobility Alchemy 1)
>Noise is vibration through the air. You probably can't pop his glasses from this far away, but if you can find something to whip, you can probably intensify the volume or force enough that it can clear out the condensation clouds he's trying to create with a shockwave. (Resonance Alchemy 1)
Aww, no trash compacting him. Shame, that. Still, whipping a long chain makes a sound like a gunshot (some videos of exactly that on YouTube), so these two should feed into each other quite nicely.
Can we ENSNARE and MAGNETIZE, though? That still sounds like fun.
Either way, we can't allow him to setup the field.

>>5096622
>>5096622
>Noise is vibration through the air. You probably can't pop his glasses from this far away, but if you can find something to whip, you can probably intensify the volume or force enough that it can clear out the condensation clouds he's trying to create with a shockwave. (Resonance Alchemy 1)
Resonance sounds like the most calorie-efficient thing we've got.

If they don't have a running radio, take out your phone and blast some tunes.

>>5096684
+1

>>5096622
Going for noise. If we can find a tube, that should would well enough. If we're close enough, or lound enough, would could rendering him deaf and disoriented for a while.

>>5096684
>>5096766
>>5096677
>>5096673
"You want a fire?" You ask, grabbing the chain and dropping the spike into the ground, where it sinks into the soft, wet dirt. You grit your teeth and swing, the first bit of weight taking a little bit too much effort in your wet hands, but then it starts swinging, just at the tip at first. You let your hands slide down and widen the circle, while Father Benedict's eyebrow raises at you. "Faster, heavier. You're a fan. Move the air!" You beseech the chain, and lift it above your head like you're preparing a lasso.

"Surely your teachers must've taught you that volume is... essen... Quite important to our art, yes, young Noah?" Father Benedict lectures, tying his flask to his hip while the remaining water freezes over his hand, forming a grip for his thick icicle blade. "There is no subtlety in Alchemy. Who are you hiding from?"

Force is mass times acceleration. Physics class last year taught you about rotational momentum, how bullwhips work, how velocity increases as radius decreases - it's why the tip of a bullwhip makes that loud fucking noise. And a chain isn't a bullwhip, but the buzzing sound it makes as it spins uncontrollably over your head, cutting through the air, sure makes it sound a little bit like one. You grit your teeth as your bloody hands squeeze the cold chain tightly, bringing it to your side so that you can swing it vertically. "You want volume, Father?"

"Yes, yes! Show me your voice, young Noah." He replies, leaning backwards into what takes you a second of recognition to notice is a fencing stance... Wait, you've never seen anyone fence before. How do you know that? "En garde!"

As Father Benedict lunges forward, driving his blade towards you, you step to the side, wrestling between the momentum of the chain and the motion of your body trying to get out of the way. He barely nicks you across the cheek, not enough to draw blood, you can tell, but now he's within kissing distance, moving far faster than he should have the ability to at such short notice. "Well? I'm waiting."

You whip your chain downwards towards the ground and it hits with a thunderous CRAK, kicking up a cloud of dirt and mud like it's a bullet, splattering Father Benedict's robe and your t-shirt. Of course, by the time you actually manage to swing it into position, Father Benedict is meters away. "As I thought. You're too inexperienced to aim a serpent so dangerously. I'll make this quick, so you don't suffer your own inaccuracy."

"Louder." You whisper, kicking the chain back with your wrist and swinging it again. You squeeze it hard and feel the blood sapping out of your thumb tip and into the blade.

"I told you, young Noah! An alchemist has no room for subtlety! If you cannot shout and cannot aim, this fight is already over." He lectures, pulling himself back into his fencing stance.

"Who needs aim? I need it LOUDER!" You shout, snapping the chain down.

>>5097473
CRAK!

It doesn't even land remotely close enough to hit him, but the impact creates a noise that's almost as loud as a gunshot, kicking up a huge cloud of dirt and mud. It flings several shards of metal into the air, and you whirr up again before flicking the chain forward, gripping it tight with both hands so that the force of its impact doesn't rip it through your palms. When it impacts, you jerk it back, like you're snapping a whip, and it kicks up a second cloud.

Father Benedict stumbles back, mud sprayed on his sunglasses, stepping left and right like he's disoriented. You don't know if he's deafened or not, your ears are certainly ringing like a motherfucker, but if he's not on the back foot he's putting in a good act of it.

>Who needs aim? Just charge and swing it into him. You have a heavy-ass iron chain that's alchemically enhanced to be faster and heavier. If you swung this into someone else you'd at the very least bruise them heavily, if not break a bone. Go for it!
>Don't get cocky and forget this guy's a Dragon and you just kicked up a huge cloud of wet dirt. This chain is useful for now but it's ultimately too unwieldy to use as an actual weapon - it's a liability. Spin it up and chuck it in his direction and it'll probably hit, but now it's time to go for an alternate plan. (Free Option)
>While he's disoriented, fence him in. If we get a wall behind him, that minimizes his ability to stumble backwards, and if we can pen him in on the sides, that means there's no escape but towards you. (Architectural Alchemy 1)
>Faster, louder! Hyper-accelerate that chain until it's a defensive measure. He won't be able to get close, not without shredding himself, and if the chain is going fast enough it'll blow away or destroy any projectiles. Then, we just need a good throw... (Mobility Alchemy 1)
>Mace flamethrower...? (First Aid Alchemy...? 1)
>Now, wait, there's an idea. Can we... turn this chain into a serpent? It would be a lot easier to aim if it had some ability to aim itself, right? (Biomedical & Forge Alchemy 1)
>Free Option.
>Free Option.

>>5097474
>Faster, louder! Hyper-accelerate that chain until it's a defensive measure. He won't be able to get close, not without shredding himself, and if the chain is going fast enough it'll blow away or destroy any projectiles. Then, we just need a good throw... (Mobility Alchemy 1)

>>5097474
Jesus Christ Noah, don't just stick your soul in random scrap like you're playing a trap card.
>Sound isn't the only thing that resonates. Can you get a flashlight to focus into a laser?

>>5097474
>Don't get cocky and forget this guy's a Dragon and you just kicked up a huge cloud of wet dirt. This chain is useful for now but it's ultimately too unwieldy to use as an actual weapon - it's a liability. Spin it up and chuck it in his direction and it'll probably hit, but now it's time to go for an alternate plan. (Free Option)
>While he's disoriented, fence him in. If we get a wall behind him, that minimizes his ability to stumble backwards, and if we can pen him in on the sides, that means there's no escape but towards you. (Architectural Alchemy 1)
>Mace flamethrower...? (First Aid Alchemy...? 1)
Lock him in and BURN.

>>5097474
Dont forget to call him a flaming faggot.
When we're done we should give our friends a silent alarm in case they need help.

Merry Shitscram, readers! Will be taking a break - I need to sleep early because I will be going on vacation this week. I will try to get updates when I have the time to. Thank you!

>>5097625
>>5097594
"Faster! Heavier! Louder!" You shout into the buzzsaw that the chain has become, swinging it until even touching the ground doesn't cause it to slow down, but instead starts digging a small gouge into the dirt, kicking it up in flecks towards Father Benedict.

"Enough with these games--" Father Benedict tries to spit through a mouthful of mud, while you spin around on the balls of your feet to give yourself a little momentum and then just... let go. Well, you give it a little throw, but for the most part, the weight of the chain carries itself, and as the rubberband effect kicks in, the chain keeps all of its momentum, rapidly accelerating into a flying buzzsaw of chainshot towards Father Benedict. "Stop!" He shouts, jabbing his ice blade forward into the air, but even whatever powerful halting forces he can apply are subject to the laws of momentum, and the chain shatters his icicle easily before whipping around his arm with a loud crack and then carrying through to jerk his shoulder backwards until it dislocates with an audible pop!.

Carried backwards by force and pain, Father Benedict lets out a loud, pained noise. You stick your other hand in your pocket to cut your other thumb on the switchblade, wipe your hands together until they're both bloody and messy, and cram them into the dirt. You think about mounds, building anthills, constructing tunnels, creating walls and enclosures, and feel the dirt solidifying, mixing itself into clay beneath you, pushing the moisture out. "All rise!" You shout, pulling out two walls, fencing him in on the left and right. You feel the blood sipping out of your hands. "Walled off!" You order the earth, and it creates a wall just low enough for him to stumble and trip over before a second one gives his head something to smash into.

You grab the can of mace. You think about it, the capsaicinoid compounds within, the chemical burns, the spicy scent in the air, and you put those feelings into words as you step into your hallway of dirt. "Burn!" You tell the world, and, like an AXE flamethrower, you click the mace and bright red, luminous flames emerge, billowing out into lingering clouds, catching Father Benedict's robe alight.

>You only have so much to work with before he inevitably goes Dragon, you need to injure him as much as possible beforehand so it dampens his advantages. Grab a railroad spike or a piece of rebar and lengthen and strengthen it for skewering.
>Discretion is the better part of valor. The fire will eat away at the moisture in the air and distract him long enough that even if he goes full Dragon, you have time to collect yourself and re-assess your combat plan. Maybe send an emergency text? Back off, either way - he might do something stupid.
>Free Option.
>Free Option.

>>5098937
>>Discretion is the better part of valor. The fire will eat away at the moisture in the air and distract him long enough that even if he goes full Dragon, you have time to collect yourself and re-assess your combat plan. Maybe send an emergency text? Back off, either way - he might do something stupid.
>Get some food, a torch flashlight, the works

>>5098937
>Free Option.
>Mix some rust with some aluminum cans and you got Thermite. Can't be too hard to make with all this junk lying around.

>>5098953
That.....huh. How calorie-intensive is that? It'll get the heat from the atmosphere, but are the chemical bonds themselves heavy on energy?

Honestly, he's still considered allied with the Dragonslayer faction--technically speaking he hasn't done anything wrong yet in attacking Saint and Junkyard Dragon. Even if we disagree with that, calling in FOODS will put everyone in an awkward situation.
We have to get evidence of him turning into a Dragon before we can call in the cavalry. Sending that evidence to Hyde or whoever is one of our ultimate win conditions, after which it becomes a matter of surviving until backup comes.

>>5098956
I'm not entirely sure how this system works yet, but I think you just need the right ratio of rust and aluminum powder, then it's only a matter of making the initial combustion to set it all off.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xQeF_EM7WU
This example looks fun.

>>5098957
Maybe if we take photos of him while transforming. If we knock him out in his dragon form, will he remain a dragon, or revert back?

>>5098973
Yeah we definitely can't do 100 pounds of anything, and that's ignoring how we will be right inside the area of effect.

Thermite is actually kind of hard to weaponize, since it's a liquid. We need a delivery system that will launch it BEFORE it starts reacting, or rely on the rebound effect for snap-freeze or snap-heat.

>>5098979
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=77TlYAjtA08
What ever you say man, it's only a suggestion. Never said it was a good or bad one.

>>5098981
I mean explosions might actually happen because this guy uses ice, I'm just not sure if using a leafblower or something is really viable.

>>5098983
Wish I had an answer. Maybe we could shove some thermite mix in a soda can, put it in a metal tube, spray axe spray in one end, then light it up potato canon style.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JEoqrjFX1yI
God bless this brit.

>>5098937
>You only have so much to work with before he inevitably goes Dragon, you need to injure him as much as possible beforehand so it dampens his advantages. Grab a railroad spike or a piece of rebar and lengthen and strengthen it for skewering.
>It worked once, why not try it a second time? Create a massive spiked fence inside of him with the piece of rebar, then let go and do it again. Hopefully that carries over to his Dragon form.
>Stay on your toes. Be ready to BOUNCE away and collect evidence of his transformation with your phone. Put Hyde on speed dial, but don't call anyone until you get that evidence.

No time for tonight but since there's been some back and forth - general consensus check on "Try to collect evidence and play keep-away" vs "try to create some thermite or something explosive so you can do some real damage"?

>>5100063
>"try to create some thermite or something explosive so you can do some real damage"
I don't think we can collect evidence during a fight. If we give up the initiative we're done fior.

>>5100063
I am voting for violence, yes. Can we do thermite violence, or is that too calorie intensive?

Apologies for the delay - vacation has been eating up most of my spare time that I intended to set aside for this and I've had to nap to recover.
>>5100114
>>5100073
You grit your teeth for a moment as you feel your brain buzzing with activity, digging up knowledge you have no earthly way of knowing. While you reach up to grab your head with one hand, your other one, sort of reflexively, sort of not, reaches down to grab the closest piece of rusted scrap you can while Father Benedict scrambles to put himself out.

Thankfully, your little stunt has bought yourself some time, and your feet staying in contact with the ground seems like it's keeping the walls up, although they're sagging more and more with each passing second. You have to work fast.

"Rust. Rust away!" You yell, turning the unidentifiable metal parts into a pile of rust in your hand, feeling them crumble and oxidize on an accelerated timeline. You have no idea what you're doing, but you grab a soda can available from the nearest junk pile, cram the rust in, and idly wonder to yourself how the rubberband effect works on things that have been completely dissolved like this - will it re-incorporate into iron filings and tiny bits of metal? You don't exactly have the time to check. If this is burning through your energy reserves, you have too much adrenalin to be able to tell coursing through your veins right now. You give the aluminum can a good shake, and then beg, plead, and beseech the world to put your will into violence.

"React. React! Catalyze and burn this motherfucker off the face of the Earth!" You shout, lobbing the aluminum can like a grenade as you feel it begin to heat up beneath your fingertips. You don't need to be holding onto it in order to cause the reaction to sustain itself, only to start it - that's how Alchemy works, right? All you're doing is sparking a natural process.

You barely have time to duck away from the light as it bursts out of the soda can, leaking through, far too bright to look at. The walls keep the bulk of it contained from the world as it bursts into a thermite flare. You don't know if you even created proper thermite mix, but inevitably it must've worked somehow, since you can hear its distinct sizzle as it lands on the only thing there to land on.

Father Benedict lets out an inhuman wail of pain as something important of his gets burnt through. You aren't sure what, because you aren't looking, but your knees are starting to buckle underneath you. You think whatever you did with the catalyzing reaction took most of your last reserves and now you're running ragged on empty.

That's fine, though. You're fine with empty. You turn the rest over to your Egregores. They can do the thinking, and you can handle the acting.

>Free Option.
>Free Option.

>>5102596
>Free Option.
Assess allies conditions. Are they stable enough to be moves?
Assess inventory. Do we have any snacks to restore our caloric reserves? We should make a mental note for Noah to purchase high calorie, individually packaged snacks like proteins bars, breakfast bars, or candy bars. preferably protein bars so he can get some gains while he puts in the work.
Whip out you're phone and begin recording Father Benedict, possibly make it a live stream to whomever we want to contact to incriminate this guy?

>>5102596
>Food and video recording
If Kabuki isn't already ready with his own thing, there's not much else we can risk without permanently unpersoning Noah

Skipping out on today for new years, apologies - but happy new years, everyone! Update tomorrow afternoon probably

>>5102605
>>5102904
Something between these. Food and recording this bitch transforming.

Okay, one last day of waiting before we can re-begin regular updates, BUT, this time it's because I need to get some art commissioned and the update doesn't feel complete without it. Should be done tomorrow. Stay tuned!

>>5107114
>commissioning art
My man. When I get home I'll draw some shit too, post Noah so I can get a ref please
I mostly draw women though so my apologies if he ends up looking a little feminine kek[/spoilers]

>>5107527
There is no canon Noah, draw what you think he looks like.

>>5102605
>>5102904
>>5104292
"Insolent child... Do you know the scale of the destruction you could wreak?" Father Benedict roars, the bright thermite flare burning a hole on their arm sleeve. He stands there unnaturally, body shaking but otherwise remaining still. "Demon child... Whelp! Truly, Satan is upon you... Foul creature...!"

You stumble backwards several steps as static fills the air enough to make your hairs stand on end. You pull out your phone and call Hyde as Father Benedict's body begins to swell.

You catch every bare, horrendous inch on camera, on video call, as Father Benedict's growing flesh eats the burning thermite flare, visibly scorching a hole in his upper right arm. His skin begins to glow right underneath, a bright, angry red scar that refuses to fade, while his robes lose cohesion, unable to be differentiated between his skin any longer. His glasses form into large, dense nictating membranes over his eyes, a soft purple bioluminescence emanating from them.

You take a couple of steps back, glancing towards Dog and Saint, both still, both breathing. Saint twitches slightly. The hair on your scalp begins to float quietly upwards in response to the Alchemic aura on display. You open your mouth to speak while occasional gouts of slag and molten flesh burst out of Father Benedict's arm like pus from a pimple. "It's over, Benedict. Say hi to FOODS for me."

"What the fuck..." Comes Hyde's voice, silent and disbelieving.

"You're recording this, right? I don't want it to go in vain in case I'm about to die." You reply, your heart beating out of control as Father Benedict grows taller and wider with each passing second, skin taking on a deep blue tint, icicles sprouting from his back like hedgehog quills.

"Noah, you crazy bastard, get the fuck out of there!" Hyde yells. "Of course I'm recording it! Now run!"

You step back until you bump into a trash pile, the walls no longer held up in any meaningful way, slowly dissolving back into earth. Father Benedict's dislocated joints pop back into place. Your eyes bounce from feature to feature, struggling to take it all in as he finishes growing at roughly four meters tall and about as wide at the shoulders, his body visibly twitching in agony.

Then, you spot him. Crouched, silently, watching and recording with a camera of his own - Kabuki, standing on the roof of the junkyard's office. He flashes you a thumbs up, and then silently points to the Dragon that was Father Benedict, makes a throat cutting gestures, and then points to himself. A silent message - Should I handle it?

File: BEHEMOTH.png (425 KB, 661x765)

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>>5108439
"Sataaaannnn! I expel you from this child's body! I exorcise you in the name of the Lord our God! Release him from your grasp so that he may be cured of his ailments! I command it!" Father Benedict roars, lurching forward, landing heavy on the ground beneath him. His fists leave deep imprints in the dirt, unable to support his weight for very long on just his back legs. He opens his mouth to inhale deeply, and frost begins forming on his teeth and skin, the air rapidly beginning to drop in temperature.

>"Go for it!" You don't have time to play charades with Kabuki, you need to get out of the way before Behemoth freezes you to death.
>You can dodge this. Two can play the Alchemy game, figure something out to keep yourself warm and guarded from his attack while signaling to Kabuki to go for it. The element of surprise is necessary here. (Free Option.)
>Just run. Don't stop recording, don't say anything, just run. Hyde has the evidence. You've done all you can, you can't beat a Three-star Dragon on your own in their prime!
>Take the offensive to Behemoth while he's reeling back for his attack. He may be big and intimidating, but you bet he's slow and lumbering too, just look at his back legs. There's gotta be some way you can disable him enough to cripple his attempts to fight back. (Free Option.)
>Free Option.
>Free Option.

>>5108442
>Just run. Don't stop recording, don't say anything, just run. Hyde has the evidence. You've done all you can, you can't beat a Three-star Dragon on your own in their prime!

>>5108442
hohoho, merry-wait he's not santa

So I don't think we can outrun a wave of cold death, but I also don't think we've got much left on the gas tank to work with here.
>Dive between his legs, FLASHING with the phone flashlight. That's gonna have to be enough for Kabuki, because you're not sticking around any longer than that.

>>5108442
>You can dodge this. Two can play the Alchemy game, figure something out to keep yourself warm and guarded from his attack while signaling to Kabuki to go for it. The element of surprise is necessary here. (Free Option.)
It's a junkyard so set stuff on fire, or possibly extract the hydrogen in water puddles and produce heat.

>>5108442
Damn, Ice T is a big nibba.
And big nibbas fall *hard.*
Doesn't look like he has wings, so maybe trapping him in the earth could work?
Either way, we can't really abandon Kabuki here--if Bulldog and Saint couldn't beat him combined (though whether or not they actually *worked* together is up for debate), I don't fancy his chances in a fight, either. Who knows, though. Dude's got way more experience than we do.
>Make the dirt beneath Benedict ERUPT, then follow up with a COLLAPSING SINKHOLE to swallow the big lug. That'll buy you some time, and should also interrupt whatever it is he's trying to do.
>You're not sure how much you've got left in your tank, but you can't just abandon them here, either. You'll follow Kabuki's lead, though make sure to pretend you don't recognize him so FOODS doesn't question your relationship too much.

Unbelievably tempted to add in a cheeky line about how we're not being possessed by Satan; after all, if we won, it was because the Lord was with us.

>>5108442
>Just run. Don't stop recording, don't say anything, just run. Hyde has the evidence. You've done all you can, you can't beat a Three-star Dragon on your own in their prime!

>>5109149
>>5108448
>>5108449
>>5108606
>>5108709
Your brain swirls with ideas, trying to synthesize something useful out of the aether, the morass of various thoughts forming into something vaguely coherent. Two impulses stand out above the rest - signal to Kabuki, and run like hell. You reach down and lap up some of the blood on your palm so it's in your saliva, and then breathe out, feeling the electric tingles inside your mouth as your pneuma continues to flow.

When you breathe into your hands during the wintertime, you're using your breath to stay warm. Keeping homeostasis. Your body retaining heat. You absolutely can't out-muscle Behemoth, either with actual muscle or with Alchemy, but you can absolutely defend yourself as you run towards Behemoth. "Stay warm!" You breathe out, feeling a rush of heat spread from your tongue down into your esophagus, and from there, out into your limbs. You feel your blood starting to uncomfortably accelerate inside your veins, and your skin starts to turn pink as Behemoth begins to exhale his wordless curse.

It's like no sort of cold you've ever experienced before in your life, even in the days where you have to wait outside for the bus at 10 degrees Fahrenheit. Your lungs immediately begin grasping for air that isn't there, dryness overtaking you. Your nose bursts into a warm, gushing nosebleed instantly from the combination of the intense temperature change and the sudden humidity change from a little crisp and swampy to dry as a desert. All the moisture in the air snap-freezes against the nearest surface, coating it in a thick layer of rapidly forming frost, with your skin only barely avoiding the same fate as the combination of alchemical effects bring you to "just a little bit chilly".

You swallow blood down the back of your throat. Helpful. You dive beneath Behemoth's stubby legs, breaking into a roll and narrowly avoiding losing grip on your cell phone. Hyde has been shouting something, but at this point you've tuned him out completely, only signalling to Kabuki with one hand outside the camera's view (and Behemoth's) that he's good to go. A pointed finger, ran across your own neck. Kabuki nods, and you scramble up to your feet and begin to run, run, run away.

Clearly, Behemoth expected some sort of sideways dodge, given the way he lurches forward towards you, his own weight carrying him into a junk pile. His frigid breath continues sucking out all the moisture in the air, and he swings around, his long limbs crashing into the nearest broken car and swatting it aside like a fly. "Vile little pest... Begone from this world!" He screeches, his mouth hanging open limply. "Perhaps Hell will be kinder! Begone, vile accuser!" He yells, inhaling again before breathing out a thick wave of fog.

>>5109738
When it hits the ground, icicles immediately begin collecting, growing, and continuing to grow. You have a feeling you don't want to get caught in it, and you keep moving. By the time you look back up towards Kabuki, he's vanished completely, and you have no idea where he's gone to.

>Oh, fuck, he's gonna breathe over Saint and Dog. Even if they're both in Dragon form, you don't know how well they could survive a throat full of icicles. You're going to need to figure out a way to whip away the fog or change his target. (Free Option)
>No, they'll be fine. Coach White survived literally being ripped in half, and needed to be impaled in an entire wrought iron fence from the inside out to die. Icicles are dangerous because they fall, but one forming on a static body is just a huge discomfort. You can't afford to stick around, you need to RUN.
>Nuts to that. You have a fresh supply of blood to the mouth, two can play at this Dragonbreath game. Maybe it's time to breathe some fire back? No time like the present to steal his own tricks, and standing your ground will keep the fog from damaging Saint and Dog.
>Free Option.
>Free Option.

>>5109739
>No, they'll be fine. Coach White survived literally being ripped in half, and needed to be impaled in an entire wrought iron fence from the inside out to die. Icicles are dangerous because they fall, but one forming on a static body is just a huge discomfort. You can't afford to stick around, you need to RUN.
I'm still open to the laser, but we really gotta get going

>>5109739
>Nuts to that. You have a fresh supply of blood to the mouth, two can play at this Dragonbreath game. Maybe it's time to breathe some fire back? No time like the present to steal his own tricks, and standing your ground will keep the fog from damaging Saint and Dog.
I got you homies

>>5109976
+1
For the bro

>>5109743
>wanting to laser
>not caring about or dragon bros
>cant empathize that getting iced will still hurt them even if they wont die.
Bro, anon. That's so cruel of you. How could you be so c o l d.
I regret nothing

Apologies, need to take a break for today - been struggling through some covid despite my triple autism injection and I'm too fatigued to update. Will try to get an update tomorrow afternoon if my ADHD does not curse my fingers too much.

>>5110489
I took my vaccine booster and all I got was this life stone

....wait, wrong quest

>>5109976
>>5110032
Oh, fuck that. You swallow blood down from your bleeding nose and let it mingle freely with your saliva, imbuing Alchemy into your hoarse voice and the words you speak directly. If all the moisture is being condensed into fog, that makes the air that's not in the clouds cold, yes, but also dry. When you... When you breathe steam in the cold weather, it looks like smoke? No. That's not going to work. You need something warm. You need something too warm to handle.

The thermite flare inside Behemoth's arm crackles to a halt. His mouth hangs open, drooling out cold fog onto the ground. You know too much about science for any faith based approach, like you're sure Behemoth is handling. Just a little too much.

Your brain makes complicated leaps. Your blood tastes sharp and metallic, you wipe sweat from your brow and ingest it. "Listen to me, world of mine! My sweat is of salt, my blood is iron. I need metal. I need mineral. Give me fire!"

"What are you babbling about?" Behemoth roars, not moving a muscle as his fog drifts towards you, carried by an ill wind.

The transmutation is simple. You turn the salty taste of your own sweat into sodium, like you did before when creating the sodium flare, using your blood as fuel, and you begin drawing out a thick chunk of sodium from your tongue like you're squeezing out a salivary stone. You gag and hiss and cough as you transmute your own saliva into salt, but you only need that as an intermediary. You swirl thick, pebble-like chunks of sodium around in your mouth and inhale frigid wind and moisture and let the reaction precipitate.

"Burn!" You shout, opening your mouth and feeling the pop rocks begin to crackle. Your mouth burns, it burns from the inside out as you turn moisture and sodium into raw fire, molten and painful, and expel it with your breath and a loud roar like the Dragon you're fighting. The junkyard is filled with intense yellow light as your breath-expelled sodium flare hits the fog and begins to crackle and snap like fireworks, scattering it about, creating plumes of hydrogen gas and a white, powdery substance that sits pretty on the dirt.

You give out all you can, burning your tongue and lips in the process, and spit out a chunk of sodium into the ground. It dissolves back into saliva before it even hits the dirt, and your stomach gurgles on empty.

Behemoth takes a couple of steps back and clenches a fist. "Enough of these parlor tricks, accuser. Lord o God will not mind a violent sacrifice! Say your final prayers and make your peace." He declares, pulling what little moisture remains that hasn't been scattered by your yellow fire into his fingertips, forming another spear of ice. This one, thick, blunt, dangerous, looks specifically made to avoid being broken or snapped away, the ice thickening and pressing together until it's become a dense, blue shard.

>>5111394
Kabuki, of course, is standing right behind Behemoth, with a syringe of some kind in his hand. He gives you a thumbs up. You think about giving him one back, but your entire body is rejecting the notion of moving.

You think you only have enough energy left for pithy final words. Hope Kabuki can come through with whatever crazy plan they have concocted...

>"Turn around."
>"Gotcha."
>"I think you should be the one saying your final words, Benedict."
>Just fall onto the ground and let fate take you.
>Free Option.
>Free Option...?

>>5111396
>"You were a cool guy, but I was just too hot to handle."
>Cheeky grin, then pass out.
Cringe as fuck, desu
Absolutely worth it to see Hyde's expression after this though

>>5111408
+1, we would say that wouldnt we

>>5111396
>"This would make a sweet background on my phone"

>>5111396
You're a raging, homosexual, choir boy molesting, no walls to the balls bouncing, dick smaller than my pinkie thinking, FAGGOT.

>>5111408
>>5111418
"You were a cool guy..." You say with your last breaths, body heaving just out of energy. You spit out another chunk of sodium like you're hocking a loogie, and it splits into saliva before it even finishes leaving your lips, spraying onto the ground. Actually, that one was a loogie. "But I was just too hot to handle."

Behemoth rears back and wordlessly screams, swinging his icepick in your direction. The last thing you see before you pass out is Kabuki cramming his syringe into Behemoth's side, and then everything goes black.

---

Ah, shit.

You figure fairly quickly that the fact that you're here, back in the orchestral chamber, indicates some level of still being alive. The problem is, you have no idea if that means you got stabbed with an icicle and are slowly bleeding out but time is dilated here, or if you safely hit the ground and are just sleeping, or what. Your chest does hurt, but does it dying hurt? You can't tell.

The interior of your internal orchestral chamber is different than what it usually is. Well, not that it has any amount of consistency to begin with, but it's especially different, considering that you're sitting in the front row of what appears to be an endless inverted sphere. There are seats and balconies in every direction, wrapped all the way around and over your head, but the stage is directly in front of you.

You can't recognize any of the figures in them, buzzing-deep scribbles in fancy suits, but you feel a sense of deep familiarity nonetheless. You can identify one of them, playing a tall bass, a frequent contributor to your mindscape, who passed the thought through your head that it would be worth it to see Hyde's expression after all this boils down. You see a handful that have remained mostly silent, except to mirror the remarks of others, amplifying their voices. You see a sea of players in the orchestra who have yet to even touch their instrument but have been observing nonetheless.

You do not see your father.

You do not see Dr. D'Angelo.

You do, however, see bits of Saint, here and there, and bits of that girl whose name you can't recall, and bits of your Alchemical history emerging from the ground around you. It's all quite strange.

>Speak to me.

>>5114125
Hey Noah. Trying NOT to overtake your teenage ass consciousness here, really don't wanna go the isekai novel route.

Considering we appear to be distinct identities within this overcrowded mindscape of yours, my new theory is that D'Angelo somehow hooked you up to the Collective Unconscious. Or the Internet. Grandpa was hip with the times, evidently. Given the SMT vibes, you might even be able to manifest different demons or dragons unlike most people's one. If, you know, you don't mind the near 100% chance of not being human anymore.

But come on dude, fucking LASERS! As long as you keep the wavelengths away from nuclear radiation, you can burn a hole through most things on a candy bar.

>>5114125
If Kabuki or Saint or Dog got caught in your camera, FOODS will have many questions for you. Better start thinking up the answers immediately.

>>5114125
Faggots!

>>5114125
So when are you gonna marry the girl, man? I'd also ask if you could tell your very cool mom we said hi, but I dunno if she'd appreciate her son informing her of the many voices in his head.
Anyways, good luck! You're already on your second 3* Dragon and basically soloed most of it, bet Kendra's gonna lose her shit.

>>5114125
Put pee pee into vagalias.

>>5114125
Alright son, good news. You're not dead. Bad news. You got fucked up. We'll try unfucking you're F- results some other time, maybe bring some emergency food bars in a fanny pack or shoulder backpack.

>>5114125
Oh hey dude, nice job with the three star! You're gonna need to learn some better pneuma control so you pass out less, but that's a work in progress, am I right? Oh, apologize to your mom and Ken for fucking your body up again. When that conversation with Ken comes up, get Hyde to try to vouch for you. Text Rebecca so she knows you're not dead when you wake up, assuming you wake up in a hospital or something. Hopefully you can spend some downtime with her, but don't rush things. You didn't ask for this, but we're all rooting for ya! Get up on the stage when you're ready to go, you're the star here.

As you sit comfortably in the front row of the orchestra, figures turn and address you directly, and you reply in kind. You are reasonably sure that you are developing schizophrenia.

>>5114162
You aren't sure what "SMT" is, but you tuck the laser and collective unconscious ideas away into your back pocket.

>>5114167
Right. Answers. Frankly, you'll need to come up with a good excuse for why you were there at all. One thing at a time, though, you do have to make sure you're not dead, and the pain in your torso only grows as your dream continues chronologically.

>>5114304
You shoot this particular watcher a look, expecting a follow up. When they don't, you sigh quietly and invite the next one.

>>5114447
No, you have a feeling that your mom, as supportive as she is, might not cotton on kindly to the "Voices in your head with separate personalities" thing. And you're also not sure if you actually solo'd a Three-star Dragon, at most you distracted it until someone who knows what they were doing could subdue it.

>>5115070
You don't understand how to reply to this.

>>5115440
Right. Food. That is one thing you are internalizing very quickly. Have food with you literally at all moments. It's times like this that makes you wish there were like... calorie pills. Note to self: consider looking into MREs? Or what are some other ways to get very fast but calorie dense things into you?... Lembas bread is fake, right, mind goblins?

>>5115501
Right, that's definitely something you feel bad about. You keep promising to keep yourself out of trouble and then continue putting yourself in trouble - this is, according to Rebecca, a trait of superheroes, which makes you really think you should start reading more superhero comics. Note to the many voices, where the hell do you actually start? Is there a Spider-Man #1? Or is that one really old.

On the invitation of the orchestra member, you slowly rise from your seat, feeling immediately uncomfortable with what feel like dozens if not hundreds or even thousands of eyes on you at once. Your brain feels like jello, like it's not prepared for you to actually be the important person in it, but you step onto the stage nonetheless, hauling yourself up with your pencil arms and turning around to face the audience.

What you see is a field of blinding stars, and then you wake up.

File: da_chief.jpg (158 KB, 850x850)

158 KB JPG

>>5115528
"--king up. Noah. Noah? Are you dead yet?" You hear, a voice directly in your ears followed by a swat to your nose.

"Chief, if you continue messing with my patient I can and will inject you with anthrax, and it will suck." That's a voice you immediately recognize. Hyde. Hyde! Are you... in a hospital?

Your eyes creak open. "I'm good. I'm good? Am I alive, still?" You ask, waiting for the searing pain of an icicle impaled through your chest to register. But you look down. You are, in fact, completely fine, outside of an IV plugged into your arm. You don't look like you're in a hospital, not to mention that your mom would definitely be here - it's more like a nurse's office. Nurse's office? You pull your head up and look around. Hyde, Chief Grey, Kendra, and a couple other FOODS agents you straight up do not recognize.

"I'll cut to the chase. One, you are an idiot." Kendra starts. Chief Grey immediately flicks his hand across her nose, and she flinches. "Chief!"

"Are you the boss here or am I?" Chief Grey responds.

"I am! He's my trainee and he's not a member of FOODS yet in any official capacity!" Kendra shouts, causing everyone not named Chief Grey to wince. Grey visibly thinks for a couple of moments and then nods, pulling up a vape pen to his mouth and sucking on it quietly for a split second before letting it exhale in a cotton-candy haze out of his nose. "True. Okay, go on."

"One, you are an idiot. Two, you being an idiot is going to cause an international incident." Ken says, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Hyde showed us all the video. You got it real good." You prepare to defend yourself with a half-cocked excuse about Saint, Dog, and Kabuki, but Ken just looks more concerned than anything else, like a kicked puppy. "It's not like that particular Behemoth-type had a record, but... Damn."

"Damn." Chief Grey mirrors.

"We're all adults, you can say fuck." Hyde reminds the group.

"I'm not!" You helpfully remind them.

"Fuck," Hyde replies, and you laugh a little bit.

"Somehow you've managed to avoid getting injured at all during your second solo fight with a Three-star Dragon, although we have no idea where he is now. The lack of blood and corpse leads me to believe that you subdued him enough to get him to run away or there's something here we don't understand, but, either way, we're operating under the assumption that the Behemoth-type is still active in the city and now has a grudge against you." Ken explains, leaning back against the cabinets in Hyde's clinical office. "And, oh yeah, he's a high ranking member of one of the largest and most important Dragon-hunting organizations in the world! For fuck's sake... Jesus, Christ."

"Isn't he the problem?" Hyde and you both joke with more or less the same wording and more or less at the same time. You share a glance.

File: 279.png (139 KB, 720x551)

139 KB PNG

>>5115530
Chief Grey chuckles and fishes out his wallet, pulling out a small handful of hundred dollar bills and setting them out on your lap. "Consider it a taxable gift. Even if this is going to become a gigantic pain in our ass, I'd rather we know than not know. You did good, kid."

>"Thanks, Dad." [Joking]
>"Thanks, Dad." [Freudian Slip]
>"Now what? Are we gonna hunt him down or something? Does my security detail get even bigger?"
>Look around silently and go back to sleep.
>"Are you sure it was just me there? I honestly have no clue how I could've survived that on my own or where he went or why he didn't kill me when I passed out." Fish for information.
>Free Option.

>>5115532
>"Now what? Are we gonna hunt him down or something? Does my security detail get even bigger?"

>>5115532
>"Now what? Are we gonna hunt him down or something? Does my security detail get even bigger?"

>>5115532
>"I don't think it was just me there. Before I started the video, he said he was looking for something. Maybe that something included someones. Was anyone there?"

>>5115532
>Hyde! Did you get any of my witty one-liners? Man, they're the only reason why I'm still alive.

>>5115567
This

>>5115532
What happened to Saint and Dog? Are they okay?

>>5115532
>"Now what? Are we gonna hunt him down or something? Does my security detail get even bigger?"

>>5115839
I think that line of inquiry is best saved for when we aren't staring down the chief.

>>5115551
>>5115547
>>5116299
"Now what? Are we gonna hunt him down or something? Does my security detail get even bigger?" You ask, trying not to sound worried.

"I'm gonna be honest, this whole business would be a lot easier if you weren't a kid." Chief Grey replies, running a free hand through his hair, exhausted. "Fuckin' child labor laws."

Everyone glances at him with varying degrees of nervousness, and with a coy smile, he waves his hand in front of his face. "Kidding. But, well... there's a reason most of us live on our own, Noah."

"You do?" You ask, realizing rather abruptly that you have no idea what any of these people live like. Now its their turn to share a nervous, uncomfortable glance. Even Ken looks a little taken aback, which is a strange expression to see on her face.

"Noah," She starts, pausing for a moment. Chief Grey sucks on his vape pen quietly once more, blowing it towards the door as he walks towards it, peeking outside.

He interrupts her, sort of. It seemed like she wasn't really going to finish her thought anyway. "Easier to protect the citizens when you don't have people of your own to protect. A counterintuitive truth of the business, so to speak."

"You don't have, like... A wife? Kids?" You ask, trying to probe the rather uncomfortable thickness that had formed in the air almost instantaneously. "Family members?"

"No, Noah, kid, I'm afraid you're pretty unique there too. We'll provide what resources we have to protecting your mother and your partner, or at least who I assume is your partner, I don't know how it works with teenagers these days." Chief Grey replies, finally working his way back to your earlier question. "I mean, High Command is absolutely going to want to hear about this, and I'm sure they're willing to throw as many people at it as they need to, but, well... There's other cities with Dragons."

You nod slowly, your throat feeling uncomfortably dry. "Yeah. I get it. You can't pull everything away for just one kid and his family." You finish his thought.

Chief Grey audibly gulps, his voice cracking for a second. Ken backs away from the door he's staring at, while Hyde looks at his own shoes. "Yeah. It's the cruel calculus."

>>5116971
He takes another hit from his vape pen, which undercuts his seriousness, and then he turns to face you just with his head, not his body. "Hey, if you ever write a memoir, that'd be a great chapter title. 'Cruel Calculus'. But I expect a 10% cut."

Your face twitches like it's attempting to smile. Then, your mouth just runs a little bit. "If you don't have anyone, there's nobody that you have to worry about leaving alone if you get got." You say, and Ken's body immediately tenses up like she's just been hit, fists clenching. Chief Grey turns back towards the door, and the couple of FOODS agents you don't recognize back a step away from you. "Having something to lose... probably makes you worse at the Dragon hunting business, doesn't it?"

Chief Grey stares out the little glass panel acting as a window to the door. "Yeah. Markedly so."

"It's the cruel calculus." Hyde mirrors, getting out two weak chuckles.

>"...So what can I do about it? They're... They're more important to me than anything else. Do I need to train and get stronger? Do we need to go into witness protection? I'll do whatever I have to."
>"...Well, I hope nobody's taking bets on my family situation." [Dark Humor]
>Remain silent.
>Ask when you can start working at FOODS full time. Even if it's not what you want to be doing forever, they're probably the best equipped of the three groups to keep your family and friends safe. You can handle the Shadowrunning from the inside and keep them guarded, two birds with one stone.
>Wait, you never got around to the "now what" for *FOODS*. Yeah, okay, security detail they'll keep as is - What happens to Father Benedict? What happens to l'Ordine? You need answers. You're owed some answers, you think.
>Free Option.

>>5116972
>"That explains why you guys didn't have much to say about keeping quiet. By the way, the other students involved with the homunculus thing didn't seem to remember much about dragons and nearly dying."
>"Right, I'm putting a lid on that, too much on my plate already. Back to giant ice behemoth priest."

>"I don't think it was just me there. Before I started the video, he said he was looking for something. Maybe that something included someones. Was anyone there?"
>He called it "conquering your demon", which sounds a lot like he doesn't need to eat people

>>5116972
>Wait, you never got around to the "now what" for *FOODS*. Yeah, okay, security detail they'll keep as is - What happens to Father Benedict? What happens to l'Ordine? You need answers. You're owed some answers, you think.
I'll kick his butt next time, swearsies!

>>5116972
>"...So what can I do about it? They're... They're more important to me than anything else. Do I need to train and get stronger? Do we need to go into witness protection? I'll do whatever I have to."

Taking a break for today - some of my medical equipment broke and because I'm steadily falling apart at the seams, going without it has made sleeping basically impossible so I'm quite exhausted. More to come tomorrow!

>>5118057
Jesus dude. This doesnt paint a pretty picture.

>>5118084
Oh, it's not that bad, I just have a thing that makes sleeping difficult. Not like, falling apart falling apart.

>>5118057
Apnea?

>>5118103
Among a couple of other things, yes. CPAP mask harness snapped like a shitty rubber band :(

>>5118108
Mouth tape does the job for less severe cases, if there's any available.

>>5116976
>>5116986
>>5116999
Your brain swirls with thoughts that all seem natural to you, but you can tell some of your Egregores have some of their own opinions seeping through. You try to synthesize them into a coherent opinion and pull it from your head, resulting in a pretty gnarly headache for a second and a half that quickly subsides back into the air. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, but only for a moment.

"That explains why you guys didn't have much advice on remaining low-key." You say, trying to joke about it. "But, let's, uh, let's put a lid on that. Too much on my plate already. Back to the giant ice Behemoth priest."

"Right, back to Mr. Benedict." Chief Grey blithely muses, the sound of his vape pen just barely audible above the hum of the air conditioning.

"We never got around to the "now what" for you guys - for FOODS. Yeah, okay, you'll try to keep my security detail, but what happens to Father Benedict? What happens to l'Ordine? He wasn't there al... He wasn't... He sounded like he was looking for something. Or someone, before I started recording." You ramble out, letting it boil off from your sore lips. "And he kept talking about "conquering his demon", like, it sounded like he didn't have to eat people. Do you know anything about that? And was there anyone else there?"

"Whoa, nelly, lot a' questions--" Hyde chuckles limply as he examines a clipboard. He looks at you square in the eye for a moment, but you don't know if that means he's seen Saint and Dog and Kabuki and is trying to tell you to shut up, or if there's... no meaning to his glance whatsoever. "We didn't find anyone else with you. By the time we showed up, you were passed out on the ground and there was signs of a struggle - a lot of, what was it?"

"Lye." Chief Grey answered. "Powdered lye on the ground. Someone was playing chemistry class, and I'll assume that's the person here who has the propensity for blowing themselves up meeting the person who specializes in ice and moisture based Alchemy. Sodium flare again?"

You gulp quietly. Somehow, it sounds like a threat, or a warning, for reasons you can't place. "Sodium breath, really. I was... I didn't really have a good source of material besides my own sweat and my nosebleed so I used it to turn my saliva into saltwater. From there, I pulled it into raw rock sodium, and, uh... I'm not sure what happened to the chlorine, actually, but I knew enough about the reaction to go straight from there into fire."

By the time you finish explaining, everyone in the room is staring at you. Like, more than they normally were. Even Chief Grey looks a little taken aback - he starts counting on his fingers. "That's one, two, three, four transmutations, with your mouth, with a nosebleed, at once. Saliva to saltwater, saltwater to sodium crystals, sodium to fire, no, wait, that's three. Still."

Ken is eerily silent, hands folded over her chest. Hyde looks... uncomfortable.

>>5119491
"I know you had questions and all that, but, Noah, inquiring minds wish to know. What are you effin' made of?" Chief Grey asks, squatting down just a little bit. "We'll get back to Mr. Benedict in a second, I still have your inquiries tucked away, the who, what, when, where, yadda yadda. But people just can't do that much Alchemy at once. I mean, it's not - it's not unheard of, I could do it right now if I needed to, but you're just a little baby!"

He sounds more impressed than anything. Impressed, with an undertone of that sort of tone of voice a Frankenstein gets when they watch their Adam getting up and punching a hole through stone. That sort of impressed.

>"Well, you see, I actually have the ghosts of several people, including the Alchemical Dr. Mengele, inside of my brain, and I think they feed me more Pneuma than I should have access to at my training level."
>"I couldn't tell you. I'm just as confused as you are."
>"I don't know. I just... do what comes naturally to survive. Sorry."
>"Maybe I was born with it. Maybe it's Maybelline."
>"I've got a real good tutor." Nod at Ken. "And I've been doing nothing but exercises in my free time. You think I have a functioning social life?"
>Free Option.

>>5119492
>"I don't know. I just... do what comes naturally to survive. Sorry."
Can we use alchemy to turn things into gold?

>>5119492
>"Well, ever since I started doing alchemy, I've been dreaming some really weird shit. Like, everything I've ever alchemied. Does that mean anything?"

>>5119530
It would turn back the moment you remove your hands

But yes.

>>5119571
Dang. Maybe we start carrying made thermite canisters, sodium bombs, batteries.

>>5119575
Thermite and sodium would get expensive and illegal real fast.

Batteries are alright, but turning that into a viable weapon was the first question to answer.

>>5119583
We made a thermite grenade not too long ago with aluminum and rust didnt we? We could save aluminum cans & wrappers, and grind rust off super corroded metal. Pure sodium would probably bee too expensive for us. What isnt expensive is diesel fuel, either bought from the gas station, or made in the form of biodiesel.

I thought batteries could be used as 1 use tasers, sans the tasers.

>>5119492
>"I don't know. I just... do what comes naturally to survive. Sorry."

>>5119587
Okay I looked it up and I guess Thermite is viable. It's more about how dangerous it is to use something like this with a power that needs contact to activate, so we might even spend more money on the canisters than the thermite.

Sodium is a big nope, while batteries are pretty ideal for energy storage and convenience to purchase.

That's the thing: we could just get a taser. Might not be possible for us, but easy and reasonable to ask FOODS to get for us. I'm thinking more of other weapons that can be configured to run mostly on batteries so we don't have to stock up and process junk.

>>5119601
Literally did it out of junk and a soda can. Guarantee our thermite grenades would cost less than $1 to make. I would argue a contact triggering thermite grenade is less dangerous than a manufactured thermite grenade. A manufactured one would have a rough delay time of 3-5 some seconds, while the one we trigger and use against the priest man we really effective, if you can recall. You did read the fight right? Light grenade, throw, mented through his arm? Worked like a charm.

Already said, but yep. Na too mucho dinero.

If we have a big enough backpack we can use one of those giant flashlights that can probably permanently blind someone if pointed in their face, or we can buy a laser pen.

Now you said you're thinking of weapons, but you haven't said any. That's a problem. Dont be a chump, go on and tell us some of the crazy stuff you know.

>>5119626
The dangerous part is that we don't HAVE a delay on the thermite grenades. It's a blessing that Noah can activate it by touching the outer casing, but in the time from activation to throw, the thermite is already melting its way through the casing while in his hand. It's a lot easier and faster to produce than conventional thermite, but the casing needs to be quite a bit thicker and have less space for thermite just so Noah has enough time to yeet it.

And uh, yeah, Get one of those heavy duty electric torches to turn into a laser of death. Or a vibrator if you wanted to make earthquakes with sex toys. A Hair Dryer could be used for a relatively safe flamethrower, if we don't want to pull out illegal napalm. And there are some really portable speakers out there we could hook up to our phone and unleash the bantz.

>>5119492
>"I couldn't tell you. I'm just as confused as you are."
>"I don't know. I just... do what comes naturally to survive. Sorry."
>"Maybe I was born with it. Maybe it's Maybelline."

You can't just drop a line like that and not expect us to use it. That would be criminal.

>>5119645
Noah's hand didnt melt when he did it however, so it's safe enough. You could argue that he shouldnt whip around a big as chain, but he ain't dead yet.
Dont be a pussy, bro. If he ain't dead, its working.

>>5119492
>"I don't know. I just... do what comes naturally to survive. Sorry."
>"Maybe I was born with it. Maybe it's Maybelline."

Definitely these two. Also for the record, I think making thermite grenades regularly is a surefire way for us to get flagged as some kinda psycho. It was handy in the fight, but I imagine using it everywhere will make us a liability to anyone who has to put up with our shenanigans for more than an afternoon. Also, it was probably pretty taxing on our pneuma reserves, but we were fueled by adrenaline at that point so we'd just have to practice with it when we're not in danger. Probably in the junkyard, if Dog isn't in a foul mood. Regardless, it's a very good trick to have in our back pocket.

I think the best weapon we have right now is flexibility. That isn't to say that we shouldn't specialize, but a huge contributing factor of why we survived is because we took advantage of Father Benedict's abilities and the available resources we had. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that versatility is what'll keep our head on our shoulders.

Taking another break for tonight - apologies, readers. It is all just so much all the time, lmao, lol.

>>5120378
>>5119650
>>5119598
>>5119530
"I don't know, Chief. Maybe I was born with it." You say, and Hyde's face immediately blanches completely white as he opens his mouth to interrupt you from saying something stupid in front of the local Dragon-hunting police chief. You are, unfortunately, faster than he is. "Maybe it's Maybelline."

The immediate following silence is interrupted only once by the noise of Hyde's hand meeting his forehead in an old-school facepalm. Chief Grey looks very much like he's corpsing in a movie, until he sucks in air through his nose, begins speaking, and immediately self-interrupts with a roar of laughter. "Oh, balls, that was good--" He coughs out between loud barks, genuinely slapping his knees and bending over like he's out of breath before standing up and stretching his back. "But... for real, Noah. Let's get real."

"Like I said, I don't know. For real, no jokes... I'm just doing what comes naturally to survive. Sorry." You say, once the mood comes back down to Earth. Hyde leans against one of his cabinets, while Ken looks at you with a strange mixture of disappointment, approval, and bewilderment that makes her face look a little silly. You feel like you're defusing a bomb. The other FOODS agents are still giving you a wide berth.

"I'll lay it to you straight, Noah." Chief Grey says, taking a minute to inhale from his vape and exhale another cloud of sweet smoke.

"Sir," Ken interrupts. "Would you be able to withhold the vaping until the serious conversation is over?"

Chief Grey immediately vapes a second time, and then coughs it out. "Sorry, sorry, you know my impulses. Of course. Sorry, Noah, not respectful to you." He says, stuffing the vape pen into his suit pocket. "Sorry, just trying to wean off the nicotine. Anyway. I don't believe you."

"Some weaning you're doing..." You hear Hyde mutter. You're not sure if Chief Grey hears the detailed words, but you definitely see the flicker of his eyes Hyde-ward.

"Before you can open your mouth to reply, let me say that I don't DISbelieve you, either. I don't think you know why you're able to do that, and I believe you when you say you don't know." Chief Grey continues, bending down a little bit so that you two are on an equal level, eye-to-eye. "I do fully intend on finding out, at some point, with your permission. I'm sure there's some tests we can run. But, what were we talking about again before that? I don't want to digression too far off course."

>"L'Ordine. Benedict. Remember? It was like two minutes ago, don't tell me your memory's going that fast, is it?" [Light-Hearted]
>"L'Ordine. Benedict. Remember? It was like two minutes ago, don't tell me your memory's going that fast, is it?" [Confrontational]
>"I think we were talking about the giant ice Dragon priest and what's gonna happen there?"
>"Am I being interrogated? This feels a little bit like an interrogation."
>Remain silent.
>Free Option.
>Free Option.

>>5121848
>"I think we were talking about the giant ice Dragon priest and what's gonna happen there?"

>>5121848
>"The part where we have no idea what Benedict wants, and who else was there, because I definitely didn't make him run away with my fearfully comatose body."

>>5121848
>"I think we were talking about the giant ice Dragon priest and what's gonna happen there?"
I'mma kick his ass nextime.

>while Ken looks at you with a strange mixture of disappointment, approval, and bewilderment that makes her face look a little silly.
We should hug Ken. Our friendly kickass teach. Also, thanks to Grandpa Mengele for our kickass Alchemy abilities! And an obligatory fuck you to Grandpa Mengele for being, well, Grandpa Mengele and probably making us into some godless soul-abomination. Kept us alive, though, so that's nice.

>>5122262
>>5121853
"I think we were talking about the giant ice Dragon priest, and what's gonna happen there?" You ask, not feeling the desire to get too confrontational with anyone right now given your apparent propensity for making dangerous enemies. "And, like... l'Ordine, and all that."

"Right. Well, I'm not an idiot, you don't get this far in the business by doing stupid things, so obviously I'm not taking this to l'Ordine immediately. It's his word vs ours, and he's been doing this about as long as I have, so they'd be more inclined to trust him and I imagine he has a great deal of institutional power backing him. No, we're not going to l'Ordine." Chief Grey immediately rattles off. "Oh, right, all these people are on the level, in case you were worried. I'll introduce you later, if you want." He says, gesturing to the other FOODS agents you don't recognize.

"I'm good for now." You reply wryly. "Continue."

"Right. Plus, if what you said about him not needing to eat people is true... well, the concern here is that l'Ordine is fully infested with Dragons that have collectively wrenched a high level of control over society's most popular religion. I don't think I need to elaborate on why that would be bad, if this was an institutional thing rather than a sole rogue agent. What if we need to kill the Pope, man? That would... not be good. I'm not sure what the consequences of un-personing someone that important to the collective consciousness would be and I really don't think any of us want to find out."

You think about a large portion of the world suddenly having Dragon-memory-loss-induced seizures simultaneously and nod in agreement. That would probably be bad.

"We'll be conducting our own investigations, basically, but I'll keep you in the loop since your footage is our lynchpin. As for you... I mean, it's not like I can really convince you to dump high school and become a FOODS agent at age however old you are. Even if it's probably the best for your safety it's probably not the best for your sanity..." He begins.

>Interrupt him. You'll do whatever it takes to keep your friends and family safe. If that means you need to take a temporary break from high school so you can vanish and learn how to be a functional Alchemist, then whatever. Sure. Let's go for it.
>Let him continue. On one hand, no school, but on the other you agree that your sanity probably wouldn't be able to handle being dragged out of your normal life even further for the purposes of basically military training so you don't die.
>Interrupt; ask if witness protection is an option. Any possibility you could use that government money to move you across state lines and get Mom a better job?
>Free Option.
>Free Option.

>>5123173
>Let him continue. On one hand, no school, but on the other you agree that your sanity probably wouldn't be able to handle being dragged out of your normal life even further for the purposes of basically military training so you don't die.

>>5123173
>Interrupt; ask if witness protection is an option. Any possibility you could use that government money to move you across state lines and get Mom a better job?

>>5123173
>To be fair, if I just called you guys every time I feel a tingle down my spine instead of trying to be a hero, I'd probably be in a lot less trouble.

>>5123173
>>5123307
True, not sure if they know that we basically have a spider sense for alchemy...alchemy sense? Damn, we really need to read some Spider-Man to contextualize this. Just describe how it feels and they'll probably get the picture, but it seems pretty uncommon, too.

Speaking of, try starting with Amazing Spider-Man #1: it's not the very first comic, but it recaps enough stuff and it's pretty modern. It also sets up for a lot of changes that Peter Parker goes through throughout the other comics. If you want the old-old stuff, Amazing Fantasy #15 is his first actual appearance.

>>5123187
>>5123284
>>5123307
>>5123714
Going to wait until tomorrow afternoon to see if this gets tiebroken with a +1 anywhere, but if not I will try to figure out some sort of synthesis. Too tired to write otherwise. Apologies!

>>5123173
>Let him continue. On one hand, no school, but on the other you agree that your sanity probably wouldn't be able to handle being dragged out of your normal life even further for the purposes of basically military training so you don't die.

>>5123187
>>5124504
You stay silent. He's right, of course. You're 16 years old, you shouldn't be worrying about stuff like this, you should be worrying about wearing the right type of shitty cheap mall cologne to impress Rebecca at Junior Prom. He mutters to himself.

"Well, it's not like I have any actual authority over you, so it's not like I can order you to do stuff anyway. Shields, you feel like making house calls?" Chief Grey asks, snapping his fingers towards a slightly dazed looking Ken.

"Huh? What do you mean by that, sir?" She replies.

"I'm not stupid. I don't believe in "chosen ones" but I recognize a kid with protagonist syndrome when I see one." He says, his hand instinctively reaching in towards his vape, before he stops himself. "Last thing you need before you're officially a capital H "Hero" is spiky anime hair and a tragic backstory, keheh. Let's try not to let it get to that latter one. Ken, you're going to be dropping by at least once a week to be this kid's personal trainer, unless you have someone else you think would be better at the job."

Ken rubs the back of her head nervously, in a way that implicates intimidation, an emotion you don't see very readily off her. "Me, sir?" She asks.

"Did I stutter?" He says, once again having to almost physically resist grabbing his vape pen. "You're the most junior person on the force. It's not like it'd be much of a disruption to your daily routine, either."

You lean forward a little. "Ken... How old are you again?"

Her face is burning with uncharacteristic color. "Why do you c-" She starts.

"She's 18." Hyde speaks over her.

"You're 18?" You parrot in mild-to-moderate disbelief. She folds her arms over her chest and harrumphs. "You're barely older than I am!"

"Right, so she's basically a same age peer. Ken, you're on Noah duty until otherwise needed." Chief Grey repeats. "Noah, do you think we need to do anything about your mom and lady friend?"

>"...I mean, if you could get us a shotgun,"
>"Wait, that's not fair to Ken. I can learn just fine by myself, just get me an alchemy textbook and some weights."
>"Hold on, just once a week? What else am *I* doing with my time? I can handle more than that."
>"You're only *18*?"
>"Can Hyde teach me instead?"
>"If there's any literature they're allowed to read about the subject that won't vanish from memory, that'd probably be good for *them* to have."
>Free Option.

>>5125766
>"I think my mom is ready to go out and buy a shotgun if she hears I got in the hospital AGAIN."
>"Well my "lady friend" has one dragoned family member and literally nobody else, been kinda wondering how the living expenses work for people like that."

>>5125774
+1 lets get mom a shotgun. In fact, she should get a concealed carry license and a 9millie along with a shotgun.

>>5125766
>"If there's any literature they're allowed to read about the subject that won't vanish from memory, that'd probably be good for *them* to have."
Acquire gun for mom.
If we're 16....when can we get a gun?

>>5125774
>>5126144
"Well, my mom is ready to go out and buy a shotgun if she hears I got in the hospital again. And my "ladyfriend" has at least one dragoned family member and literally nobody else, so I've been kind of wondering how the living expenses work for people like that." You say, leaning back into the pillows of your cot and folding your arms over your chest.

"Quick clarification. Do you mean her relative was turned into a Dragon or eaten by one?" Hyde asks, eyebrow raised.

"Eaten." You clarify on impulse before starting to think a little harder. You feel the blood drain out of your face and your torso grow uncomfortable. You try to shake the feeling away. "I'm pretty sure."

"Well, that's not helpful..." Ken mutters, still looking quite embarrassed by the earlier occurrences.

"I'll try and make sure she has a stipend, and if your mom goes for a concealed carry license I know people in the municipal government that can expedite her through the paperwork." Chief Grey informs you, silently dismissing the other FOODS agents, who, by some way of nonverbal communication, seem to have indicated to him that their time to go had arrived. He opens the door and politely half-bows to them as they leave. "Not sure I can get a concealed carry license for a shotgun."

"I mean, do you really think a pistol would work on a Dragon?" You ask, fluffing up your pillows behind you.

"If you shot it enough times, yes. But then your mother would need the presence of mind to shoot something that actively resists being perceived, and then continue doing that until it dies. Frankly, the best hope of getting her a gun is that she gets lucky and scares it off because it thinks she's not easy food." Chief Grey says, grabbing his vape pen and almost pulling it out, but stopping himself last minute. "This, of course, relies on the Dragon going after her for hunger related reasons and not because you pissed it off and it's trying to enact revenge on you."

"A thing that happens surprisingly frequently." Hyde chimes in.

"Like, in general...?" You ask.

"No, with you, specifically." Hyde replies. You can't help but laugh at that a little bit.

>Now might be a good time to maybe broach the topic of Saint...? Y'know, in case he pops up at your house, you don't want your security detail to ventilate a friendly.
>"Well, since he's already gone and made it personal, any opposition to me being put on team "hunt down and kill a fucking priest from the Vatican" when the time comes?" Change topics back to Benedict.
>"Yeah, those things would be good. Any help you could offer them, really." Accept the offered help. "It's not like I'm doing all this for *me*, anyway."
>Free Option.

>>5127382
>Now might be a good time to maybe broach the topic of Saint...? Y'know, in case he pops up at your house, you don't want your security detail to ventilate a friendly.
I dont remember how durable all dragons are in general, but she can probably carry a .45 for that extra stopping power if penetration power is an issue for dragon skin, else anything chambered in 9mm with a lot or bullets work. Hollow points should be on the table for weak dragons, maybe hand loaded +P bullets too if the pistol has been properly tempered to handle the extra pressure from extra packed bullets?

>>5127382
>Now might be a good time to maybe broach the topic of Saint...? Y'know, in case he pops up at your house, you don't want your security detail to ventilate a friendly.

Have to admit I'm not certain how they'll react to "I've been having correspondence with a dragon" right after we tell them "dragons have infiltrated one of the top dragonslaying organizations."

>>5127382
>Now might be a good time to maybe broach the topic of Saint...? Y'know, in case he pops up at your house, you don't want your security detail to ventilate a friendly.

>>5128638
Agreed, but with upped security FOODS will definitely find out eventually. This way will hopefully end in far less bloodshed or we could maybe even leverage this info to helping us track down Benedict. No matter what we do, we're going to have to be really, really delicate with this topic. We know how anti-dragon FOODS is, but I feel they're far less fanatical than the Vatican. Laying some of our cards on the table right now is our best bet to keep us alive, possibly keep Saint alive, and has a chance to maybe even build bridges if we don't alienate everyone in the process.

We should probably lead it with "Chief, you're probably gonna want to hit the vape a few times for what I have to say next." Also, we'll need to outline, in no uncertain terms, that we don't want Saint to end up as some weird science experiment, or whatever. We don't really have a lot of leverage to negotiate with here, but he actually has tried to protect us and has shunned eating people so I think it's only right that we try to go to bat for him somehow. Making an appeal early leaves a far better impression than him showing up at our house in the middle of the night and greeted to a hail of gunfire.

We probably shouldn't mention Dog, though. He seems less inclined to work with FOODS outright and is probably closer to the types of dragons that FOODS hunts regularly. That said, he's probably sheltering Saint for now so if we run into Saint again there's a chance that he might show up. I think and hope that he's perfectly satisfied having as little to do with us as possible for the time being.

Thoughts?

>>5127406
>>5127403
>>5128638
>>5128677
You think for a second, and then you think some more, and tune out the resultant conversation that takes about a minute to play out. It's only when Hyde says "Earth to Noah, still there?" do you snap out of your temporarie reverie, thinking about the best way to broach the issue of "you would not like your police friends to kill your Dragon friend".

"Yeah, sorry, was just thinking about something. I know we were literally just talking about how Dragons have infiltrated one of the top and most influential Dragon-slaying organization, but..." You start, pre-emptively bracing for impact.

"Oh, no, no "But"." Hyde mumbles, palming his head.

"No, no, please, just bear with me. I've been seeing this one Dragon a lot, and, I mean... I don't know if he's friendly, but he certainly hasn't been attacking me despite presumably being able to smell me and having lots of opportunity to do so. He even was fighting off another Dragon that was chasing me in a car, I think. Or at least, a Dragon that looks like him... I don't know, I've never really gotten a good look at him." You say, trying to whip up a good reason to not kill a Dragon that looks like Saint that would fly in a bunch of people who literally do that for their job.

Chief Grey pinches the bridge of his nose. "Noah, please don't tell me you're trying to make friends with a Dragon."

"I'm not! Just... if you see a navy blue one with just two wings and two legs, don't... immediately kill it?" You ask, wincing, covering your face slightly with your arms.

"Noah, I need you to recognize that you are literally asking a bunch of people whose jobs it is to kill Dragons to not kill a Dragon." Chief Grey points out, unhelpfully.

"I know! I know. I knowIknowIknow." You say, rapidly, feeling the air in the room grow ice cold in an instant, almost like Behemoth is back. But not really. Purely emotionally.

"If you are trying to pretend you haven't made friends with a Dragon and hiding under plausible deniability that you've "maybe seen him once or twice", you're doing a very bad job at it." Chief Grey says, and you feel your heart plummet down into your balls. Immediately, bile rises in your throat. "God damnit, what did I say about protagonist syndrome? Get this kid some hair dye."

"Noah..." Ken mumbles, tilting her face away from you. Hyde tries very hard not to facepalm.

"Look, they've protected me several times before with no reason to do so, they've avoided eating me when given an excellent opportunity, and they let themselves act as bait to draw out Father Benedict so I could capture that footage. That last part has to be worth at least a bit." You say, pretty much making up that last part. You don't know if that was Saint's intent, but you did find them, injured and passed out, at the junkyard, and Father Benedict was there, and it did lead to you capturing direct footage.

Chief Grey takes a hit from his vape pen. "Christ almighty."

>>5128690
The room is quiet for about five minutes. Ken leaves, followed by Hyde. Ken doesn't look at you. Hyde scratches his scalp nervously, and tosses you a weak thumbs up on the way out. Chief Grey closes the door behind them with one hand, and then takes another hit before putting away his vape pen.

"Noah, you're not the first idiot to make friends with a Dragon. Dragons lie. Dragons make plans. They're not stupid snarling monsters, at least, not once they've got a little fire in their belly. I have no way of knowing if this Dragon is just using you as bait like you apparently used him. Dragons fighting each other for food isn't unheard of." He says, his voice quiet, low, and even. "But... It's pretty damning footage."

Your heart raises back up, just a little bit.

"Don't get too excited. It's not like I can send out an all-points bulletin saying "Do not attempt to kill a navy blue Wyvern-type. He's actually a good guy,". That'd be stupid and probably get me court martialed." Chief Grey says, dampening your hopes. He opens the door. "I don't know. I want to believe you when you say he's doing good. I'll... see what I can do."

>"Thank you."
>"Their name is Saint."
>"They think that if they kill enough Dragons they can turn back into a human."
>Remain silent.
>Free Option.

>>5128692
>"Their name is Saint."
>"They think that if they kill enough Dragons they can turn back into a human."
It's very ironic I know.

>>5128692
>"They think that if they kill enough Dragons they can turn back into a human."

>>5128692
>"They think that if they kill enough Dragons they can turn back into a human."
>"Sounds like the protagonist of his own story, doesn't he?"

>>5128692
>"They think that if they kill enough Dragons they can turn back into a human."

>>5129026
>>5129016
>>5128834
>>5128721
"They told me that they think if they kill enough Dragons, that they can turn back into a human." You say to Chief Grey as he's one foot out the door. "They have someone in their life they want to see again. But they're stuck at two stars. She doesn't remember them anymore."

Chief Grey raises an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

You gulp quietly and nod. "Yeah."

"Well... that's new." Chief Grey muses to himself. "There's a box of power bars on the shelf. Help yourself. Nap it off." He says, more directly to you.

You blink at him once or twice, and he leaves, shutting the door gently behind him, vanishing down the hall. Your entire body sags.

Assuming that you haven't somehow destroyed your relationship with Ken, you might as well use the solitude to pre-plan a little bit...

>Just follow her curriculum. Don't burn daylight worrying about it. Eat and go to sleep.
>There's something specific we should learn more about... (Free Option)

---

And this ends the thread! Thank you all for reading, and I hope you are all still enjoying! Archival + a new thread will be coming likely sometime this weekend. Your readership is greatly appreciated!

>>5130168
>Finish the egregore cipher
>Get SOMETHING to level 2. Doesn't really matter what, you need a mainstay you can whip out in any situation

>>5130175
+1
Who's Ken? The 18 year old agent right?

>>5130168
>>5130175 seems reasonable