>>6051065
"Well that could be worse," she sighs, "A sergeant's something, but none of the cultural commission? I'm sorry I didn't make it back sooner. Maybe with two of us-"

"It still would have been two-to-one," you shake your head. "I just hope the helmet meant they didn't get a good view of my- Ah!" Your head shoots up as you realize something, "There was someone else! I saw someone else on my way out; he saved my life from the Federation-! He was from the army!"

"The army?" Aneta blinks, "Like... Our army? Awsbet?"

"You know anyone else who wears a red coat and peaked cap?" you ask excitedly. "Okay, burgundy or whatever, but you know what I mean!"

"No way..." Aneta gapes, "But I thought the soldiers were all locked up! So he must have been..."

"Another resistance fighter," you grin, smacking your fist into your palm, "I knew we couldn't be the only ones!"

"Kings and Queens," she swears by the deified rulers of Old Eorten. "That's fantastic! It changes everything! Did you get his name or- I guess not." She catches your look and smirks, looking away, "Things were a bit frantic, huh? That explains where the broken window came from. Still, you think he's independent, or working with a group? Should we track them down, try to join?"

"Could be," you nod, "But we have no way of knowing. And besides, if he's hiding from the Federation, he'll be hiding from us too."

"True... So what now?"
>Now? Fucking rest, you're hungry and exhausted and the day's barely more than half over
>The museum is going to have the entire city in uproar. Perfect chance to stoke the flames. Go hunting for more. Aneta needs blooding anyway
>Small talk. You barely know Aneta and now's as good a time as any to get to know her
>Other (write in)

>>6051068
Character Sheet
>https://pastebin.com/EhuYjhnx
Manual
>https://pastebin.com/KAFyWkUd
Glossary of Terms
>https://pastebin.com/yq407m9b

Previous threads
>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2017/1122937/
>https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2017/1997552/

>>6051068
>Other (write in)
Fuck Aneta

>>6051096
>+1

>>6051096
>>6051101
In the words of many a DM in the past... Are you SURE you want to try that?

Because I can tell you right now, there's not a good chance she'll consent.

>>6051068
>Other (write in)
Figure out how to work your new rifle with Aneta, preferably with neither of us anywhere near the front of it.

Also, no fucking. Christ, you guys have that Purge quest for that.

>>6051103
>Because I can tell you right now, there's not a good chance she'll consent.
is the mc ugly ?

>>6051143
Funnily enough, there's more to sex than just looking good, especially in a world with 1920-1940s cultural mores.

And no, Iwo is about average. His features I left blank intentionally for you to self-insert.

>>6051150
At least she is not a whore

>>6051173
What on earth made you think she was? She's not a saint, but certainly not a whore. Apart from anything else, wouldn't a whore have just hopped into bed with the first Fed officer she could find?

Hopefully we can garner some more votes before we move on. I'm told things move slower now than they did back in the day.

>>6051181
I think it's best you reboot this quest because frankly no one remembers something you wrote 7 (!) years ago. All you'll do invite trolls and people who didn't care about the story.

>>6051068

Rest

>>6051186
I want to hear it

>>6051186
I agree. /qst/ has changed much. A fresh restart is cleaner and would allow you to get the good players you deserve.

>>6051186
>>6051194
I appreciate the concern, I mean that genuinely. But I've made an unfortunate habit in my life of failing to finish things that I've started. I already rebooted Resistance Quest once back in the day. I won't do so again. I intend to see this through, regardless of a couple of trolls.

>>6051189
I appreciate the chance to impress you. Given how slow things are, I think I'll try to post a new update twice a day or so.

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Obrez anon. I’m still willing to give you a chance.

Especially now that I’ve found picrel for our revolver, heh heh heh…

>>6051068
>Sleepy time.

>>6051198
Your writing is already impressive

>>6051068
"Now? Now I get some rest," you sigh, sagging in place as the fatigue catches up with you, crashing over the barrier of your adrenaline like a flood overwhelming a dam. "I'm starving hungry and exhausted ."

"Seriously? That's no fun," Aneta frowns. "Shouldn't we keep the initiative or something?"

"Fuck you, I didn't sleep a wink last night and I spent the morning getting shot at," you snort, shaking your head. "I feel like hammered crap."

"Alright, old man, I suppose we can't expect everyone to have the life and energy of us students," she chuckles, but her words are rather undercut by the cavernous yawn she's unable to suppress, covering her mouth and provoking the usual response from you in turn. "Alright, maybe you have a point... Should we meet up again tomorrow?"

"Killing their soldiers will have kicked a hornet's nest," you nod. "Curfew's gonna be even riskier than normal. Come on by tomorrow. If there's wanted posters with my face on them, I won't want to risk being seen. Tomorrow we can come up with some kind of plan for our next step."

"Alright. I'll stop by at eleven o'clock," she nods, standing up and rubbing her cheeks. She flashes you a nervous smile as you walk her to the door. "We actually made a start," she says in a quiet voice, apparently unable to actually believe it. "It feels good to not just sit and wait for the worst." She turns and shakes your hand with an increasingly elated expression. You'll be amazed if she doesn't skip on the way back to her dorm room. "Kings keep you, Iwo. See you tomorrow."

Aneta heads down the stairs and you hear her apologize as she squeezes past someone in the narrow corridor. There's a pause, then a chuckle of laughter that you recognize as belonging to Artur, your neighbor. Given how you've pumped him for the mood on the street before, you've no doubt that rumors will soon start about you and Aneta, but hopefully that'll just obfuscate your meeting for more violent reasons.

You shut and lock the door and after a moment's thought, fetch a kitchen chair, propping it under the handle. If the worst comes to the worst, it'll buy you time to maybe climb out your window and make it down the three stories to the street. Next is food - nothing exciting, just canned beef, bread and some of the leftover soup. It vanishes alarmingly quickly and you realize just how hungry you were. Shortly thereafter, sleep calls to you like a siren and you fall into your bed, barely remembering to undress before your head hits the pillow and unconsciousness instantly claims you.

>>6051485
Your dreams are as disturbed as ever. The events of the day replay in your mind, as you remember driving your knife into those soldiers. Each one locks eyes with you as they die and you feel their polluted, final breath seeping into you, filling your lungs with their blood, soaking you until you barely resemble a human, hauling yourself through the cavernous halls of the Federal Museum of Censored Police Art. You pull your teeth out and jam them into the wicked rifle in your hands, bloody stumps chattering as you pull the trigger and send your priestly brother and his seven twins flying across the room in bloody chunks. The national anthem seeps from your throat like a thin thread, unravelling your voice into a stolen flag, which drifts to the ground like a carpet for you to wipe your gore-drenched boots on.

"Iwwoo... Iwwoo~!" A sing-song chorus comes from the spattered pieces of your brother's heads, giggling as they look at you with crazed eyes. "Kikikikikillerkiller. Killer like meee~!" The grouse he used to hunt come spilling through the windows, shattering glass and swarming you, peck-peck-pecking away as you scream without sound and swing your hands, fingers splitting open into gun barrels that bang-bang-bang-bang-!

You wake with a start and a strangled cry of shock. For a split second, the bitter taste of adrenaline fills your mouth, before you realize the copper tang is blood. You've bitten your tongue in panic. Cursing, you swing yourself to your feet, casting about for a weapon, before reality re-asserts itself and the gunfire of your dreams becomes knocking on the door. You blink the sleep out of your eyes and call out, asking who it is.

"Iwo? It's me," Aneta's voice sounds. "It's already eleven. Are you alright in there?"

Kings and Queens, you slept almost a full 24 hours?! "Ye-yeah, just give me a moment!" you call back, looking for your pants. Someone must have canned that beef badly to give you nightmares like that. Once you're halfway to decent, you kick the chair aside and open the door for her. Aneta's eyebrows shoot up at the sight of you before you invite her inside. "Sorry... Slept badly," you grumble.

"I can tell," she sighs and you notice the shadows under her eyes, undisguised by any makeup. "I didn't do much better."

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>>6051486
You invite her in and she shucks her coat, hanging it on a peg by the door, before nodding to the chair you blocked the door with. "Smart. The Feds are pissed, but the good news is I didn't see anything with your face on it. Seems the army got most of the attention. There's posters all over asking for information leading to the arrest of seven Awsbet soldiers and reminding everyone the Premier ordered them to stand down and surrender and how they're traitors to the nation for continuing to fight." She rolls her eyes and grins, looking elated. "I don't think there's a single person who's not cheering them on, privately of course."

You of course offer her some of your limited ration of coffee, apologizing that it's instant and she, just as naturally, assures you that instant is perfectly fine and graciously accepts. It's odd how little social rituals like that persist even through a war and provide an odd sense of normalcy to life. After you're more properly dressed and have got both yourself and Aneta something to drink, you take a seat opposite her at the kitchen table.

"So, what now?" she asks, taking a sip of the bitter brew.

"We've got options," you nod. "Could see if we can find the army, could find members of my old station. There's limits to what the two of us can do alone."

"I've been thinking about that," she nods. "My father was part of the labor unions. They weren't fond of police, but..."

"Hard times make strange bedfellows," you nod. It's been a while since a major strike, none since you joined the force, but police and labor unionists might as well be foxes and farm dogs for how much they are natural enemies. "Besides that, we need more weapons and a place to stash them, not to mention the relics we took-"

You're both cut off by a soft tapping on the door. Aneta freezes and reaches into her pocket, probably grasping the leatherworker's awl she keeps there. You tentatively approach the door and call out. "Who's there?"

There's a pause, then a younger voice speaks up. "We had a deal, mister. You promised a hot meal."

It's the kids from the bombed districts. The day before yesterday, you went looking for battlefield salvage in the war-torn sections of the city and a pair of brothers found you picking through the remains of their home. To avoid a fight, you told them to come to your house and get a hot meal. In all the excitement, you'd forgotten about them.

>>6051489
Aneta looks at you expectantly. What do you do?
>Let the kids in. You had a deal after all.
>Ignore them. You don't have any obligation to honor your deal and even with Karlo's ration card, you're hardly eating like a king.
>Tell them to come back later when Aneta's not here. Rumors are one thing, but no sense throwing fuel on the fire.
>Motion to Aneta to hide. If they see her here and overheard what you were saying, they could ID her to the military police.
>Threaten the kids to scram. You don't need the extra attention them being here will bring.
>Explain to Aneta and defer to her judgement
>Other (write in)

>>6051491
>Let the kids in. You had a deal after all.
We need more than two people in this little resistance cell, and considering their home currently is basically rubble, they might have a few issues with the occupiers.

>Motion to Aneta to hide. If they see her here and overheard what you were saying, they could ID her to the military police.

>>6051491
You sigh and curse under your breath. You'd forgotten they'd be showing up some time today. You unlock the door and open up to reveal the two children, still wrapped up in heavy coats and hats. The elder, basically a man already, judging by his height, looks surprised. "Didn't think you'd actually open the door," he mumbles into his heavy scarf.

"Hey, I gave my word, didn't I?" you say. You step to one side to invite them in and the pair stand awkwardly in your kitchen. The younger boy goes to remove his ushanka, but his brother swats his hand and he drops it. Aneta looks questioningly at the duo, then to you and you sigh, explaining the situation. You'd considered waving her to hide, but realistically, where would she go? There's a three-story drop out your window and asking her to skulk under the bed or something until the boys left would be ridiculous.

"Hello? Are these relatives of yours or something?" she asks you. The unspoken question in her eyes is *why the hell are they here and can you trust them?*

"Uh, couple days ago, I was picking through the bombed district," you explain. "Turns out I was picking through their house and they objected. We came to an agreement though - a hot meal for what I took."

"Still surprised you were telling the truth," the older boy admits, shuffling in place. "Not many people'd actually keep their word like that."

"Oh come on, if you really believed Iwo didn't mean to feed you, you wouldn't have shown up, would you?" Aneta points out, standing and smiling to the brothers, inviting them to sit at the table. The younger brother steps forward first as you fetch a pot. You might as well make soup for a few days while you feed the boys. It'll keep, so long as you keep it covered and continuously add new ingredients. It takes a while to bring it to a steady simmer and all the while, Aneta gently interrogates the boys as to their story.

They claimed their father was a doctor before the war, the pair of them having been adopted before Mariaz, the younger brother, could even remember clearly. When the war came, he was apparently drafted as a combat medic and didn't return before the siege closed around the city. As the fighting moved into their home district, the boys fled, returning only to find that a shell had turned their home into rubble. It's a common enough story to far too many war orphans in the city and Aneta especially is empathetic to their plight, having lost her own father to the Federation as well.

>>6052722

Turning back with a pair of steaming bowls, you realize with surprise that the pair of them still haven't removed their coats and are staying bundled up like they're in the arctic. "You two are going to get heat stroke under all that," you point out, "Especially with this inside you."

"It's fine. We'll be gone soon."

Aneta's rolls her eyes and shrugs, catching your eye with a *some people, amIright?* expression. An uncomfortable silence stretches, broken only by the quiet clink of spoons on crockery. Finally, Mariaz cracks and speaks up. "Why were you digging through our house anyway?"

"Mariaz!" his brother snaps, tensing like a spring.

"I just wanted to know-" the younger boy protests, before quieting down.

Aneta rests a hand on his head and shakes hers. "Better not to ask questions you don't want answers t-" she starts, before suddenly frowning and ripping the ushanka from Mariaz's head. Kris jumps up with a yell, but Aneta's lips press into a thin line and she drops the hat on the table, frowning. "Iwo, look. Should have known when they didn't take their coats off. Drakes."

Two small, ridged, black horns poke through Mariaz' fair hair and suddenly it all clicks together: The boys are dragonbreed. That casts doubt on if the house you were poking through was even theirs - dragonbreed are seldom seen outside their ghetto, ignored, if not outright shunned by most of society. Even Restorationists like you tend to regard them with suspicion, for all that Queen Illyanne pardoned them in her reign. It doesn't help, of course, that plenty of their ilk keep up the criminal traditions that they lived by for centuries during the interregnum.

"Adopted by a doctor," Aneta sniffs, reaching into her pocket. "I'm sure. Get the hell out, you lying lizard brats."

What do you do?
>Agree with Aneta. You're a cop, you've heard more than enough about drakes to not trust them.
>Tell the boys they can finish their food, but then they have to leave. You don't have a heart of stone, after all.
>Interrogate the dragonbreed, find out if they can be trusted before making any decisions.
>Tell Aneta not to get her panties in a bunch. You're all Awsbites and they have as much reason to hate the Feds as you.
>Other (write in)

>Tell the boys they can finish their food, but then they have to leave. You don't have a heart of stone, after all.
it probably would not be smart to antagonize them but Aneta so far is the trusted option so a small concession may be ok

>>6052723
>Tell the boys they can finish their food, but then they have to leave. You don't have a heart of stone, after all.
>Interrogate the dragonbreed, find out if they can be trusted before making any decisions.
Ask them some questions while they eat. See if you can ask them to scavenge around their home in exchange for hot meals, stuff like bullets, knives, military equipment. Anything they don’t want to keep for themselves, we’ll trade for.

>>6052723

>Tell Aneta not to get her panties in a bunch. You're all Awsbites and they have as much reason to hate the Feds as you.

>>6052723
>Tell the boys they can finish their food, but then they have to leave. You don't have a heart of stone, after all.
>Interrogate the dragonbreed, find out if they can be trusted before making any decisions.
>"I'm willing to give them a shot, even if that wasn't their home. Because if there's one thing neither of us did to each other, it's invade us in the first place, unlike... (points outside)"

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"Aneta, calm down," you tell her quietly but firmly. You fix Kris and Mariaz with a stern look and shake your head. "You two, finish the food. I'm not going to toss you out just because you were born with scales, not just yet anyway."

"Weren't born with 'em," Kris contests, tugging at his scarf and revealing patchy black scales like glass chips around his collarbones. "They grow in as we get older. You think human puberty sucks, try growing horns out of your skull."

Aneta looks disgusted, recoiling with a shiver as she presses her lips into a thin line. It's not as though racism toward dragonbreed is uncommon and even you have to admit, the sight of the rough, jagged scales breaking through Kris's skin is obscene in ways you can't properly express with words, like seeing someone's exposed and instinctively revolting against it. But you're a good and honest reformist. If Queen Illyanne saw fit to pardon these creatures, then they at least deserve a fair chance.

"Was it even your house I was picking through?" you ask severely, channeling your experience as a cop into authority.

"We weren't lying!" Kris snaps defensively. "We *were* adopted. I was eight, Mariaz was five. Neither of us had the signs yet. Doc Kurek took us in and kept us even after we started showing."

"So how come you weren't buried in the rubble?" Aneta asks, her tone clipped and short, sounding like she might prefer it if they were.

There's an awkward pause, then Mariaz speaks up. "I was looking for mom. Kris came to get me from the ghetto, then there were explosions and we hid in a cellar with other dragonbreed. When we came out, there were soldiers everywhere, fighting and shooting, so we hid again. They wouldn't let us on the trains out of the city, so we were stuck here."

>>6054034
Kris winces, looking embarrassed. "Mariaz is only young," he mutters. "Our bodies grow up quicker than humans. He doesn't get that mom's-"

"She's still alive!" Mariaz interrupts loudly and his brother glares at him with all the superiority of an older sibling that you now realize is probably only in his mid-teens himself.

"Even if she *is* alive, she left us!" he snaps back, his voice making his younger brother cringe. "Shut up and eat. We're going as soon as you're done." He gives Aneta a dirty look, which she returns. He seems less hostile towards you, but still suspicious. "Thanks for feeding us. Keep the knife or whatever, you won't see us again."

"Not so fast," you shake your head, folding your arms. "You kids, how can we trust you not to run to the military police spilling what's happened?" Your eyes narrow as you realize they could have been listening through your door when you were discussing further plans with Aneta. "There'd be more than a hot meal in it for you after all."

Kris scowls and grinds his teeth. "You think we're going anywhere *near* those bastards?" he snarls. "I'd rather starve. Hell, I'd rather rip their fucking throats out than take their handouts!"

"Besides," Mariaz adds timidly, "They're Orthodox... They *hate* Dragonbreed. Kris said they'd shoot us on sight!"

Probably a bit of an exaggeration, but not much. The Federation's Royal Orthodox religion doesn't recognize Queen Illyanne's pardon, so to them, Dragonbreed are unholy creatures, legally forbidden from holding property and subject to numerous restrictions that saw them pushed to the outskirts of society at best.

Aneta catches your eye and looks away, conflicted. She still clearly doesn't trust the kids, but knows there's no real way to guarantee their silence beyond simply silencing them permanently... And filthy drakes or not, they're still *kids.* Her prejudice doesn't extend that far, it seems.

What do you do?
>Let the kids go. You have the best assurances they can give and you're not killing children for Crown's sake!
>Try to recruit them. Kris has a fiery streak and no-one suspects children of being enemy agents. (Roll 1d10+1 Social)
>You can't risk them selling you out. You know what to do...
>Try and intimidate them into silence. You know where they live, after all. (Roll 1d10+1 Social)
>Other (Write in)

>>6054035
>”You mentioned your father was a doctor, right? Do either of you know any of his colleagues that are still around who don’t like the Feds? Could you introduce them to us, in exchange for another meal?”
>Let the kids go. You have the best assurances they can give and you're not killing children for Crown's sake!
Discreet medical assistance would be extremely useful.

>>6054035
Ordinarily I'd go full 1920s man and kick these scales out...but since the queen extended her pardon we should emulate her example.

>>6054067
Supporting. Though if they question our motives just imply we're stealing from the feds and might need discrete treatment if things go south.

Technically true and also aligns them to not snitching since a scalie sympathizing (if slightly incompetent) robin hood is probably the closest thing to a folk hero they can get.

Dead again already?

>>6059771
Not dead yet, I was just struggling with my mental health. Plus, keyboard needed repair. For some reason my W key is being a dick, sometimes sticking, other times not working. Still haven't fixed it.

And lastly I was waiting for at least two replies... That's on me, I really should have just forged ahead.

>>6054067
>>6058831
Rolling for Kris's insight.

>>6060804
Okay, I KNOW I typed the command right, what's going on? Oh and please ignore the ID flip... I swear it's still me.

>Fuck dice

You sigh and shake your head. "Makes sense. Eat up you two. A deal's a deal."

"Count your spoons before they go," Aneta mutters darkly as she leans against the wall, folding her arms with a frown.

"You think I've even seen silver cutlery?" you snort, rolling your eyes. An idea occurs to you as the boys finish up and you raise your hand. "Hold on one moment... Your father was a doctor, you said? Do you know if any of his old friends are around? Ones who aren't too thrilled about the Feds?"

"The doctor wasn't our dad," Mariaz corrects you quietly. "He was nice, but... He was never our dad."

"Kept us away from his friends too," Kris nods, looking at you with consideration. "We tried to play with the other kids, but not many wanted anything to do with a couple of 'drakes.'" He spits the slur and casts a dirty look at Aneta, who draws herself up primly and returns it with a frigid sneer. "...You two have something against the Feds?"

The room immediately tenses. Even Mariaz feels it and freezes, his spoon in his mouth as Aneta tenses like a spring. The kid's too damn sharp. You feel your lips suddenly grow very dry as you ask slowly, "And what if we do?"

He looks between you and Aneta, seemingly weighing his options. The young man doesn't trust you, but he clearly considers you in a better light than your comrade. At length, he takes a slow breath and speaks slowly and carefully, as if expecting Aebrith's sword to descend at any moment. "If I said... I was serious about wanting to rip their throats out... If I said I want to kill them for what they did to Doctor Kurek, what then?"

"You can't be serious," Aneta frowns. "...Fuck, you <i>are</i> serious. Kings and Queens... Iwo, I know we need others but they're-"

"What, drakes can't fight the fucks who came in and killed the one bastard who ever gave a shit about us?!" Kris snaps, standing with a snarl and looking like he's ready to start a war right there and then.

"You're <i>kids!"</i> Aneta growls back. "I know you're drakes, but you're children for the crown's sake!"

"I'm plenty old enough to hold a gun," Kris frowns, his anger baffled for the moment. "And we're <i>all</i> old enough to get shot by the Feds just for being dragonbreed, or shelled for living in the wrong place, or put in a fucking camp and made into slaves for Kings-know-what reason."

"Will you both keep your damn voices down?!" you hiss, the back of your neck prickling. The walls in your building aren't thick enough for a conversation at this volume.

What do you do?
>Keeping a deal is one thing, but fighting alongside drakes? Not a chance.
>You'll not put kids in danger, but maybe they could run messages or something, if they really want to help.
>Mariaz is way too young for combat, but Kris clearly wants to fight the good fight. Accept the older brother.
>You'll keep Mariaz out of harm's way, but he can be useful too. Enlist them both.
>Every hand that can hold a gun is needed to fight for freedom.

>>6060838
>"...and what's your opinion on the matter, Mariaz?"
>You'll keep Mariaz out of harm's way, but he can be useful too. Enlist them both.
>"Get some things to defend yourselves with. Do your best to keep your head low. And for the crown's sake, Kris, don't make your brother a complete orphan. I don't want to discover your doctor friend standing over me at night slowly lowering a syringe towards my eye if either of you don't survive this."

>>6061516
+1

>>6061516

Im sorry everyone. I wont try again.

>>6086274
You can always start a new quest

>>6086325
No point. End the same way. Sorry.

>Me of the past can go to hell. Giving up isn't going to make me feel better. Even if it's pointless, at least I'll go down swinging.

You draw a deep breath and shake your head. "Mariaz? You get a say in this too."

The younger dragonkin looks surprised to even thought to ask. He casts a nervous look at his brother, who closes his eyes and folds his arms. "Go ahead, Mari. I promise, whatever you're thinking, you can say it and I won't get mad."

Mariaz hesitates, then takes a deep breath. "I think if you try and fight the Feds, you're going to be killed," he says in a quiet voice. "There's thousands of soldiers and they've got mortars and battletacks and airplanes. You don't even have guns. I... I'm scared." His voice catches and he looks around desperately. "If you fight, you're going to die. But if the Feds win, then Kris and I are going to die anyway. I- I don't know what to do."

Even Aneta looks conflicted, avoiding anyone's eyes as Mariaz chokes on his words and shakes, trying not to sob in fear. Kings and Queens, you were barely any better than him when Karlo convinced you to fight and you had the experience of being a policeman at least. You can't blame the kid for shaking in his boots, but at the same time, you need all the help you can get.

"We're all Awsbites," you nod, squeezing his shoulder. "Doesn't matter if you're Dragonkin or a human. We're all in this fight and it's one we can't afford to lose, no matter the odds, or we'll live in fear that we'll be next, every day of our lives. Still, you don't have to pick up a gun and start shooting to be a part of the fight, Mariaz. There's plenty to do that's safer but just as essential, stuff that's perfect for someone like you." You nod to them both. "Welcome to the fight. First order, get some things to defend yourselves with. Do your best to keep your head low and for the crown's sake, Kris, don't make your brother a complete orphan. I don't want to discover your doctor friend standing over me at night slowly lowering a syringe towards my eye if either of you don't survive this."

"Got it." The older boy stands and Dragonfire take you if he's less hunched than before. "Thanks for the meal, uh, sir..."

"Iwo Malinowski," you nod, realizing you've not given your name until now. "This here's Aneta." Glancing over at her, you're left cold by the thin-lipped expression on her face.

"This is a mistake, Iwo," she sniffs. "Drakes, I could maybe put up with, maybe tell myself they won't sell us out if it's us or them. But kids? Aebrith's frigid tits, you can't be serious!" She marches past you and grabs her coat, glaring back at you before she leaves. "I need to clear my head. Meet me at the university, just... Not today." She doesn't quite slam the door on the way out, but it's close.

>>6088801
Kris winces, scratching at his scales before burying any guilt behind indignant resentment. He nods to you and passes Mariaz the wooly hat Aneta dropped. "We'll see you tomorrow," he mumbles. "Uh... Thanks, for giving us a chance. Better than sitting and waiting for a firing squad, right?" He gives you a reasonable impression of a salute before leaving with his brother and leaving you alone.

That... Could have gone better, but arguments or not, the world isn't going to wait for everything to be perfect.

>Try and find the soldiers that you ran into at the museum
>Look for a better place to act as your base
>Go after Aneta and try to reason with her
>Check in with your neighbors and see what they've heard
>Other (write in)

Apologies for the earlier pity-party

>>6088803
>>Look for a better place to act as your base

You hadn't expected to have more people in your... What do you even call your group? A gang? An army? A cell? 'Squad' is probably the most appropriate term for now, but regardless, you hadn't expected to have more than you and Aneta just yet. You could cover up her coming and going as an illicit affair, but even if the brothers keep themselves covered, their presence in your apartment might arouse suspicions. You need a more discrete place to stash your tools and weapons, gather for meetings, plan your assaults and if needs be, lay low from the occupiers.

The issue of course, is that you have no idea where you could reasonably start! There's a handful of places in the city you could try for and all come with their own problems or perks. A general idea of where to start is easy, but actually looking for a place that's secure and discrete enough is going to take a while. Where do you start?

>Ask Artur if he knows a likely place. He's a working-class man, so might have information on old union hideouts they've no more use for.
>Check by the riverfront. Boathouses offer unique opportunities, or if all else fails, there's always skulking in the sewers like a rat.
>The police force you once proudly served have been disbanded pending the Federation's 'reorganization' but the precinct houses are still small fortresses.
>The bombed quarter of the city is more or less abandoned these days. Empty houses and dark, shattered streets make for an ideal hiding place.
>Shady taprooms and clubs worked perfectly for the criminal element in the city before the invasion, so they'll work just just as well for you now, if you can make a good impression on the legitimate business front.
>Maybe there's some place you've overlooked? (Write in)