>>496353
>[x] Yup, that’s me!
>[x] Stay quiet, see if she says anything first

>>496353
>[x] That's what they call me.

>[x] “What’s a girl like you working at a carnival?”

Also, wanna link this in the last thread?

>>496353
[x] Yup, that’s me!
[x] Stay quiet, see if she says anything first

File: D4C.jpg (245 KB, 850x1852)

245 KB JPG

Alma gives you a knowing look as she pages through her menu. You have to wonder how exactly she got your alias. You never put it on any official documents, which rules out the possibility of her finding out by digging through your papers. You return her gaze as you idly flip through your own menu. The only time you use that name was when you’re on deployment. Usually during deep cover operations. An absurd thought crosses your mind. Maybe some German or Vichy Frenchman told her about it? There’s no way that she found out about your name that way. Totally absurd.

“Yup, that’s me! You can just call me Vicky.” She continues reading through her menu, and you pretend to be occupied with looking through your own. You hope that she’ll divulge some more information about herself before she forces you to do the same. She’s way more suspicious than a carny should be. She finally closes her menu, and motions for the waiter to serve her. You don’t understand much of the culinary terms that she uses, but you do recognize filet mignon. Can she really afford that? The waiter nods, and turns to you.

“I’ll, uh, have what she’s having.” The waiter nods curtly before leaving the room, leaving you and Alme alone in the room. She smiles at you again as she sips from her glass of water.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay for you.”

“Thanks...” She steeples her fingers on the table as she continues to stare at you. You feel the urge to shrink away from her. This must be what lab rats feel like.

“Why do you work for those Bureau idiots, Vicky?” The question takes you by surprise, it almost makes you jump out of your skin. You suppose if she knows this much about you, then it shouldn’t be a surprise that she knows that you’re a Bureau agent.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

[x] “I don’t know myself, are you saying I shouldn’t be?”
[x] “Hey, watch your mouth, those ‘idiots’ keep you safe!”
[x] “Because it’s the right thing to do.”
[x] Write in

>>496518
>[x] “I don’t know myself, are you saying I shouldn’t be?”

>>496518
>[x] "To fight Nazis and tyranny."

>>496353
Where can I find the rest of the chapters, there is only 5 to 8 in suptg.

>>496592
Here, see if this works, I could link the individual archive threads if that doesn't work

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Dieselpunk%20Magical%20Girl%20Quest

File: The City.jpg (281 KB, 1440x900)

281 KB JPG

“I don’t know myself, are you saying I shouldn’t be?” Alma giggles before she responds.

“It must be so boring there, y’know? Having to live like a soldier and stuff? Is it really worth it? Things aren’t like that where I work.” What kind of job lets a carny eat filet mignon at a place like this. You doubt it’s legal. You do your best to conceal your emotions, and sip from your drink to make it easier. Where does a girl like her get off asking such rude questions? You hate civilians sometimes.

“To fight Nazis and tyranny? Sure it is.” For the first time during the date, she’s speechless. You set the glass down and sigh contentedly, it’s nice to have the upper hand on her for once. The waiter’s entrance interrupts things before she can respond to that. You can feel your mouth water as he approaches, the scent of an actual meal fills your nostrils, and the only thing you can think of is digging into it. You tear into the steak with wild abandon, completely forgetting your manners as you do. Alma doesn’t seem to mind, as she daintily cuts her food into bite sized chunks, before popping them into her mouth with a fork. She chews thoughtfully, washing it down with another drink of water.

“There are other jobs that are more worth it though, I think.” You look up from your food as she speaks. She’s carefully regarding a piece of meat speared on her fork.

“But, I don’t think you’d be interested in them. I wanted to tell you all about them too. Oh well.” She sighs as she eats. You sense an opportunity, to get her to reveal her own secrets. You shouldn’t just let this pass.

[x] “But I am, money’s kinda tight, so I’m not opposed to side work.”
[x] “Oh? I’m all ears, Alma.”
[x] Write in

>>496750
>[x] “Oh? I’m all ears, Alma.”
TELL ME YOUR SECRETS

>>496750
>[x] “Oh? I’m all ears, Alma.”

File: Hotel.jpg (684 KB, 1850x1000)

684 KB JPG

“Oh? I’m all ears, Alma?” You don’t expect much, you doubt that she’s going to spill the beans on the first date. But it can’t hurt to see what you can find out from her now. It should be an interesting story, at least. You give Alma your most convincing smile you can muster, and she returns it. It seems that she’s satisfied with whatever mind game she was playing with you. You don’t think you’ve lost either.

“Have you ever heard of the Thompsons, Vicky? I think they’re a reputable group. They have girls like me and you on their side.” It sounds more like a family name than anything. You shake your head. You haven’t been on the up and up about the going ons of New York, for obvious reason. Other girls like you? Magical girls?

“Can’t say I have.”

“Well, we’re just a group of like minded people who like money.” A devilish smile cross Alma’s face. “And it don’t matter where the money comes from. If Hitler himself was to pay me to kill someone, I’d do it.” That sets off more than few alarm bells in your mind. This Alma character’s getting more suspicious by the minute. She goes back to eating, leaving that statement to stew in your mind.

“Of course, something like that would never happen. Don’t take things so literally Vicky” She giggles.

“S-so what exactly is it that you do?”

“A bit of this, a bit of that. Sometimes we skirt the edges of the law, but what would life be like without some danger, right?”

“I see. And the carnival was...?” Alma wipes her mouth as she finishes her meal. You’ve barely touched yours.

“Another business venture. I could take you to meet some of my associates, if you want? But first, would you like dessert?” You aren’t feeling too hungry right now.

[x] “Sure, let’s go.”
[x] “I have to go take care of my sister, she’s not feeling so well.”
[x] Write in

>>496870
>[x] “Sure, let’s go.”
Down the rabbit hole we go

Gonna call it here for tonight, sorry for the late start and early end. I'll try to start earlier tomorrow

File: thumbs up aqua.jpg (86 KB, 600x600)

86 KB JPG

>>496935
Have to say QM, all this intrigue and mystery is actually pretty interesting compared to the Babylon arc. Keep it up.

File: Yamashiro.png (449 KB, 800x800)

449 KB PNG

You rise from your seat after Alma does. She leaves a generous stack of dollar bills with the check. You have to wonder if it’s customary to leave such a large tip at classy restaurants like this. The jacketed guards leave with you two, quietly escorting you from the restaurant. The other patrons don’t seem to mind the sight of the four of you, apparently too absorbed in their own meals and conversations to care. It’s rather chilly outside, a welcome change to the sweltering heat of the Middle East. Alma grabs your hand, her guards link their hands with her’s too. You wisely decide to shut your eyes as Alma warps you and your little group, somewhere. Your eyes snap open once Alma nudges you. You definitely haven’t been on this part of town before. The apartment you’re in is sparsely decorated. And there really isn’t anything that might give you a clue as to where you are. The apartment’s complex is surrounded by rows and rows of identical buildings. A few mattresses lie on the floor, maybe some

“Home sweet home.” The guards take their jackets off, throwing them on a rack, and leaving their weapons propped up on a wall. They’re MP40s. Wait, how exactly did these guys get their hands on German weapons? You open your mouth to ask, but Alma beats you to the punch.

“It’s not much, but eventually, all of us will live like kings, just you wait.” Something tells you that she doesn’t live here. A few men sleep on the mattresses, others are screwing around with their weapons, and they don’t pay much attention to you as they do. Among them is another teenager, who’s apparently fallen asleep while maintaining her revolver. Alma slaps her on the back, the sound of it even startles a few of the other men. The sleeping girl bolts awake.

“Get up, you lazy nip, we’ve got guests.” She groans as she rubs the sleep from her eyes, and checks the time on the clock. She looks down on the pile of parts that are

“It’s too late for guests, go bother someone else. I’m busy.”

“What’s stopping you from talking and working, huh?” The Japanese girl groans again, this time in annoyance.

“So, here she is, Rei Yamashiro. One of my best pals. Go on, ask her whatever you want.”

Something tells you that she won’t be keen on answering.

[x] “Uh, how did you get your hands on Kraut made equipment?”
[x] “What’s a Jap doing here?”
[x] “So, what kind of work do you do here?”
[x] Write in

Pick any combination of options you want

>>499453
>[x] “Uh, how did you get your hands on Kraut made equipment?”
>[x] “What’s a Jap doing here?”

>>499478
Seconding this I suppose. Not sure why we are humoring this asshole though. Not like we are going to join their little gang (we're personally invested in the war at this point) and we probably won't report then AND she cheated in her carnival game, trash.

>>499535
Information I guess. They clearly have some kind of relation to the Axis, so knowing who they are and what they're doing would be useful in taking them down.

Also, Lucius knows who we are and where we live. If she wanted to, she could probably teleport in a bomb, and keep harrying us if we escape.

>>499558
Shit, now I want her on the team. Maybe we can tempt her with some of those ancient treasures that we keep picking up on missions and no-one keeps track of

>>499564
We do still need to ask her about Josie, maybe she's the key to getting Lucius to at least back off.

And I'm fairly sure all those treasures are under lock and key at the Bureau.

File: dieselpunk.png (2.16 MB, 1277x717)

2.16 MB PNG

The Japanese girl stares at the innards of her revolver with distaste. You have to wonder why she took it apart if she’s so loathe to put it back together. From what your limited knowledge on firearms tells you, and what’s printed on the bits of metal, it’s a Colt Single Army Action. An American gun. Some would even say that it’s the best handgun in the world. It’s odd for a Jap to be using it. Don’t they prefer their swords and domestically made weapons? You haven’t spent any time in the Pacific Theater. Yet, at least. She shoves the parts together, and the gun slowly regains it’s original form. You sit opposite her, and she gives you a glare as you do.

“What’s a Jap doing here? Don’t most of you live on the West Coast.” The clicking of metal against metal is the only sound that fills the living room of the tenement for a long while. You hope she hasn’t clammed up because you offended her in some way. She fits the gun’s chambers onto the rest of the weapon, and stares down the sights. She nods at the gun, and spins it on a finger before she shoves it in her pocket. Just like Major Adamska did.

“Money. It’s more profitable for me to be working here than in California. Less trouble with the authorities too.” You figured that might be the case. It seems that most of these people are motivated by making a quick buck. Even if it does mean consorting with the Nazis, it seems. Where else did they get the MPs? Maybe they’ll have some explanation for you.

“Those are some pretty neat guns you guys have. But I usually see Krauts using them. How’d they find their way here?” Rei glances at the submachine guns, and then back to you. Alma answers for her, and she releases a sigh of relief.

“They were a gift, yeah, a gift. From a bunch of creeps, who called themselves something strange. Hexenkrieg?”

“Hexenkraft?” You offer helpfully?

Alma shrugs “Maybe, Hexenwhatever gave them to use, and a very generous sum of money to help them out.” You stare her down in anger. These goons are helping Hexenkraft? You can feel your blood boiling. The nerve. To use these lowlifes to hit you at home. You almost want to transform and kill them all right now. You grind your teeth against each other as you attempt to keep your composure.

“Interesting, and what ‘help’ do they want?” Rei answers for her.

“Haven’t said yet. Figure it has something to do with that magical girl who ran away from them. They’re offering quite a bit of money for her, alive or dead.”

[x] “Mind if I tag along for a while?”
[x] “You’re all scum, and working with them is only going to come back to bite you. I’m leaving.”
[x] Write in

>>499635
>[x] “Working with them is only going to come back to bite you. I’m leaving.”
Insulting them puts a target on our head. We should refuse and leave, once we are home we will warn our comrades and see about getting as much support as we can.

>>499635
>[x] Who are you people exactly? Got a name for yourselves?
>[x] What did they say the magical girl looked like?

>>499635
> So you took their money, what happens if you find the deserter, you going to turn her over to be tortured and made an example of?
Poor Erika, she has mercenaries looking for her too!

>>499678
Disregard the first question, just reread and found out they're the Thompsons

It takes all of your willpower to keep from something that you’ll probably regret later. You should probably get out of here as soon as possible. But first, you should get some more intel from them. You doubt that they’d know much about the Hexenkraft’s doings here. These people are just proxies for them. Are there other groups that the Hexenkraft’s roped into doing their dirty work for them? Your mind teems with questions.

“If they put a bounty out for this magical girl, then they must have a picture of her to go along with her. They don’t expect you to do your work completely blind, right?” Rei nods. You’re pretty sure that you know who this magical girl they’re hunting for is. Hell would freeze over before you let anyone get their grubby hands on Erika. She seems to be the most knowledgeable on this stuff. Maybe she’s the designated bounty hunter of the group.

“Yup, silver hair, blue eyes. Five foot four, very skinny, etcetera. Engage at close range. Know anyone like that?” Well, that confirms your suspicions. You have to get home. Now. Both Diane and Josie are with her, and at least one of them’s willing to defend her. You need to make sure that she’s safe yourself.

“So you took their money, what happens if you find the deserter, you going to turn her over to be tortured and made an example of?” Rei shakes her head slowly.

“I try not to think of what comes next. I shoot to kill, most of the time.” You can spot the revolver glinting from her pocket. That doesn’t inspire confidence in you. You rise from your seat next to the murderous mercenary of a Jap, and you clap your hands together.

“It’s been fun, really. But it’s getting late, and I have to go home, or my older sister will have my head.” Alma raises an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s too bad that you aren’t willing to join. See you soon.” You hope that doesn’t happen.

“Oh, and before I go, I’ve got a bit of business advice. Working with them is only going to come back to bite you. Trust me, I know.” You spin around on the ball of your feet, and leave without another word. The streets are eerily empty. It’s clear that you aren’t in a good part of town. You call a cab, which can’t get here soon enough.

“Where too, lady?”

[x] Stop off at the Bureau offices first, they need to know that there’s a Hexenkraft presence in the city. Might be magical girls too.
[x] Head straight home. Maybe something happened to Erika while you were gone.
[x] Write in

>>499757
>[x] Head straight home. Maybe something happened to Erika while you were gone.
And then we go to the Bureau

>>499757
>[x] Head straight home. Maybe something happened to Erika while you were gone.
We can call the Bureau from there right?

>>499757
>[x] Head straight home. Maybe something happened to Erika while you were gone.

File: bullied erika.jpg (907 KB, 1256x1336)

907 KB JPG

You give the cabbie your address, and urge him to step on it. The streets here are mostly clear, probably because most of the people living here can’t afford one. The cab speeds through the streets, until it finally reaches the more prosperous parts of the city. He slows down as a result. You can feel your heart thumping against your ribs. What if they’ve killed Erika already? Or worse, what if they’ve kidnapped her and she’s already half way across the Atlantic on the way to a messy death? You stomp against the floor of the cab in frustration.

“Can’t this hunka junk go any faster?” You snap angrily at the cabbie, you can see his shocked expression from the rearview mirror.

“No, I don’t feel like getting nabbed by a cop tonight, missy.” Damn it all. You sit helplessly, and wait for your complex to come into view. You leave him with the last wad of bills in your pocket and dart home. There doesn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary thus far. You curse as you fumble with the lock on the door, and you fling it open loudly. The sound of your entrance rouses Josie from her sleep.

“Boss? What’re you doing out so late? And why didn’t you bring me with?”

“I’ll tell you later, Josie. I met someone who seemed to know you. Alma Lucius?” Josie fluffs the pillow under her.

“Alma, huh. She’s a crook, through and through. She’ll sell her own mother if it gets her ahead.” You figured that since she brought you to that flophouse of an apartment.

“And?” Josie shrugs

“S’all I know, beat up a bunch of her grunts before I got assigned to you. Can I sleep now?”

“Is Erika alright? What about Babs and Joan?” She nods groggily.

“We never left the house.” Okay. Good. You feel your breathing stabilize a little. You wander to the spare bedroom, and find Erika sleeping soundly, chest slowly rising and falling as she does. You leave for your room, Joan’s asleep too, an empty bottle of beer lies on the ground next to her. Her arm hangs from the mattress, and it looks like she could slip off at any second. You carefully readjust her, she mumbles something in her sleep, but it doesn’t look like you disturbed her too much.

You sit at the telephone, and dial the number to the BRSA’s headquarters. You spin the rotary wheel around and around and around until you’re greeted by the voice of an actual Bureau agent, instead of the receptionist.

“Can I help you, Victory?” You twirl the cord of the phone around your finger nervously.

“Uhm, yeah. Just calling in to say that there are Hexenkraft aligned actors in New York City. Manhattan, to be precise. Should probably do something about them.” You can hear the agent attempt to stifle his laughter.

“I’m not kidding. Check in on a group calling themselves the Thompsons, and people named Alma Lucius, and Rei Anno”

>>499901
“Alright, alright. Understood. We’ll have people working on rooting them out then. Would you like to help?”

Jeez, it’s not wonder that the Bureau’s called the Bureau of Mumbo-Jumbo. By bureaucrats, for crying out loud.

[x] “Yeah, love to.”
[x] “I think I’ll handle this myself, thank you very much.”
[x] Write in

>>499905
>[x] “Yeah, love to.”

>>499905
>[x] “Yeah, love to.”

>>499905
[x] “Yeah, love to.”
As much as we are supposed to be on vacation Lucius already saw Erika at the carnival AND she knows were we live. It would be best to work with the authorities because we don't actually have any jurisdiction here (right?).

“Yeah, love to.”

“Excellent! Vigilantism never got anyone anywhere. You’ll hear from us tomorrow morning. Have a good night, Victory.” The agent hangs up abruptly. Well, he was awfully unprofessional. Probably a new recruit or something. You let the events of the night stew in your mind as you shower. You’re in a very, very bad spot right now. A magical girl gangster, and her bounty hunting crony know where you live. Where your closest family lives. You sigh as the hot water runs over your head. This was supposed to be your vacation, dammit. If you wanted to deal with these people you could have stayed in Europe. The soft mattress of your bed helps soothe you to sleep.

You’re rudely awoken by the sound of the phone ringing. It seems that Joan’s already left to cook breakfast. The scent of bacon and eggs hits your nose, and you stomach growls in response. Screw it, you doubt that the Bureau would care if you spoke to them with your mouth full. You dart into the kitchen, and snag a plate of food before any can react, and head back to your room. The phone rings incessantly as you eat, and you finally pick it up after a few mouthfuls of egg.

“Hello, Victoria Jones speaking.” The voice on the other end belongs to someone with an almost stereotypical Brooklyn accent. It sounds like he smokes quite a bit too. You hope that’s a disguise, and not his real voice.

“Yeah, hey. I’ve got stuff you want.”

“I think you have the wrong number, sir.” You’re about to hang up, before he practically yells for you not to. You put the receiver back to your ear, and another fork full of food into your mouth

“I’m listening.”

“Yeah, so, it looks like these Thompson fellas have been on the NYPD’s shit list for a while now. And that Lucius girl? Three counts of grand larceny, and two counts of first degree murder. How's that for a resume, eh? Look, I don’t think we should be talkin’ over the phone, come to the cafe on 59th and 10th, I’ll give you their dossiers.”

[x] He sounds clean enough. “On my way.” Bring along your girls with you, just in case
[x] You trust this guy about as far as you can throw him. Refuse.
[x] Write in

>>499962
>[x] He sounds clean enough. “On my way.” Bring along your girls with you, just in case

>>499962
>[x] He sounds clean enough. “On my way.” Bring along your girls with you, just in case

You doubt that he’d be telling you this if he was part of Lucius’ gang. Would one of them really be willing to sell out their boss to you? They might all be criminals, but they usually don’t do something like this. Usually. You don’t know the practices and traditions of the criminal underworld that well.

“Sounds good, I’ll be there in bit.” You hang up, and shove the remains of your breakfast into your mouth. You head into the kitchen, and tap your team on their shoulders.

“Looks like our vacation got cut short.” Josie frowns as she eats. It’s very obvious that she’s unhappy about this turn of events.

“We’re going back to war already? That sucks!”

“Well, we’re still gonna be in New York, so that’s a plus. But, it looks like the Hexenkraft’s got their hands in the city. And we’re gonna get them outta here.” Diane stares at you, apparently in disbelief.

“New York’s a fortress though, how could they have gotten in?” You shrug, while that is true, New York’s been designed to resist an invasion. Hell, the NYPD’s larger and better equipped than the armies of some small countries. But, you aren’t too sure how well New York would stand up to infiltration.

“We’re gonna go find out. C’mon, let’s go” Joan waves a goodbye at you, mouth too busy drinking more beer. You’ve got to have a talk with her about that. You’ve gotten so used to Babs clinging to you that you hardly even feel her grip anymore. You lead your group of magical girls to the meeting point. Or a trap.

The streets of Manhattan buzz with activity, businessmen shove their way past you and each other as they race to get to work. Rush hour really is awful. You finally make your way to the address you were given. True to his word, there’s a man sitting by a pay phone, a briefcase sitting next to him. From the bustle of the cafe, you can spot the practically glowing blonde hair of Alma Lucius. She’s standing in line, with a dozen other people

This might have been a bad idea.

[x] You aren't made yet, just carry on with the plan
[x] Talk to Alma, introduce your friends maybe, anything to get her out of the cafe
[x] Write in

>>500027
>[x] You aren't made yet, just carry on with the plan
It's fishier than a coral reef, but what's life without headbutting a few bad decisions?

>>500027
> carry on with the plan
Go talk to him alone and have everyone else keep watch from across the street

>>500027
>[x] You aren't made yet, just carry on with the plan

File: Ladd Russo.png (659 KB, 600x900)

659 KB PNG

She’s just ordering coffee. Just getting ready for the workday ahead of her. You doubt that she has a legitimate job, but that’s beside the point. That’s all there is to it. This definitely wasn’t a trap, and you definitely didn’t walk right into it. Everything’s okay, she hasn’t even noticed you. Still, it’s an incredible coincidence for the two of you to meet at coffee shop. The man with the briefcase reaches into his pocket, and produces a cigar and a lighter. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought that he was an actor for some movie.

“Erika, can I count on you to keep watch for me? Just stand over on that street, and keep an eye out for anything that doesn’t look right.” She nods, and you smile at her. You’d rather be the one keeping an eye on her. She’s the one the Thompsons are looking for, not you.

“As for Diane and Josie, just try your best to blend in.” You don’t bother trying to tell Babs to do anything. You’ve already thought of a fantastic and touching cover story for her. She’s your mute little cousin who’s dad died fighting in Europe, while her mom died of TB. You’ve been taking care of her ever since. Very tragic. You waltz over, and take the seat next to the smoking man.

“Heard you had some information for me-” He’s about to respond, before Josie catches sight of him.

“Ironjaw Russo?! I thought you were supposed to be locked up after you bit that cop’s finger off? What gives?!” This attracts the attention of every single person in the cafe. The man spits out the coffee he’s drinking all over the tablecloth. Even Alma’s staring at her in surprise. Ironjaw Russo doesn’t sound like a nickname a cop would have. You cross your arms, and glare at him.

“Yeah, what gives, ‘Ironjaw Russo’?”

“Look, I was in jail, ‘till they decided to let me out. I’m a new man now, turned over a new leaf, and all that crap. I still got your documents right here, don’tchu worry about it.” He pats the briefcase on the side.

[x] You’re not entirely convinced by his story, grab the briefcase and go
[x] Everything’s fine. Just keep talking to him like a normal person
[x] Write in

Also, some background music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8jw4-IM754

>>500072
>[x] You’re not entirely convinced by his story, grab the briefcase and go
Time to get out before it all turns into a bloodbath

File: rohan spooked.gif (1.91 MB, 540x275)

1.91 MB GIF

Gonna call it here for tonight, getting too tired, hope you all had fun

File: Purgatory.png (526 KB, 477x547)

526 KB PNG

Yeah, likely story. It just so happens that this ‘reformed’ mobster just so happened to be your contact while you were dealing with the mob? And he just so happens to have information about the gangsters you’re investigating? You haven’t been gotten this lucky in your entire life. Maybe you should consider buying a lottery ticket. Or maybe this is a trap. You lean against the table, giving the man the smuggest look you can possibly muster.

“Do you think I’m some kinda idiot?” The man’s been on edge ever since Josie called him out. Reformed or no, having a mobster in your midst is not something that people in the better parts of the city appreciate. Especially one who bit off a cop’s finger, if Josie is to be believed.

“What? No! Look, I swear to Christ that I’m tellin’ the truth. I’m as clean as a whistle?” He chuckles nervously as he tugs against the collar of his shirt. If that isn’t a tell, then you don’t know what is. Alma steps out of line, and next to your table. You turn your face away from her as quickly as you can, but you don’t think that helps. She slams her hands against the table, seemingly heedless to the steaming hot coffee.

“And how did that happen, hmm?” Alma keeps a hand in her pocket. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what she’s hiding in there. You should probably get out of here before things escalate. Being in the middle of a potential gunfight is not high on your list of priorities. You give the briefcase a sideways look as the two mobsters are occupied with each other. Alma makes a sour face at the man, before pulling a Mauser out of her pocket.

“I’d rather have Rei handle this. I don’t like getting my hands dirty.” Yup, time to go. You dive for the briefcase before either of them can react.

“We’re gettin’ the hell outta here, let’s go!” You yell at the top of your lungs, hoping that your voice will carry over the sounds of New York. You expect a gunshot, but there’s none. Your team falls in behind you, Babs is having a tough time keeping up with you. You hold onto the briefcase like your life depends on its contents. You look around, ensuring that there aren’t any shady looking characters around. After cracking it open, to your surprise. You find...

[1/2]

>>502213
What you expect to find. Dossiers with grainy photos of both Alma and Rei. They’re rather dated, though. Alma’s was taken in ‘44, while Rei’s was taken in ‘41. Are these things really up to date? You flip through the pages, until you find something that catches your attention. ‘Acquired weaponry in ??? amount, and ??? make on April 2nd, 1946. Suspected deal was made in a place known as ‘Purgatory Alley’. (i.e second alley on Baker’s in Queens.)

Interesting. It’s not much to go on, but a lead’s a lead.

[x] Looks like you’re headed to Purgatory Alley
[x] Dump this over the Brooklyn, it’s probably worthless. Go talk with Bureau in person, about your potentially faulty lead. And for real information.
[x] Write in

>>502215
>[x] Looks like you’re headed to Purgatory Alley

>>502215
> off to purgatory
> we're Humphrey Bogart now
Kinda feel bad for Mr finger biter note, he was just trying to be a good little snitch and we left him to be bumped off. I wonder how he knew to get in contact with us. Maybe the local bureau is being paid off but one person over there with their morals intact but their hands tired wanted to to us off.

File: Epéiste.jpg (109 KB, 653x1455)

109 KB JPG

Diane peeks over your shoulder as she tries to read the dossiers. Most of the writing on this page’s done by hand instead of a typewriter. The writing’s sloppy, and you have a hard time reading it. Something about conflicts between different gangs. The politics between them are almost as complicated as real world politics. At least, the writer of the dossier seemed to think so. Diane’s still hovering over your shoulder.

“Purgatory Alley? They name alleyways in your country?” Josie answers for her.

“Nah, it’s a name the locals gave to it after a while. The place was too out of the way for any serious detectives in the NYPD to care about. But, it was close enough to home that you could catch the evening news after dumping your bodies.”

“Josie, you didn’t answer my question. How do you know so much about this stu-”

“Hahaha, you’re right! I didn’t. They called it Purgatory Alley because that’s where the gangs left the dead, and where the dead wait to go to heaven.” Her eyes narrow as you call a cab. Queens is a ways away from downtown Manhattan.
“Some say that it’s haunted. That the restless souls that the Mafia made will drag you off to the next world if you you let them. The cab arrives, screeching to a halt at the curb that you five are standing on. It seems that Diane was waiting for a private place to slap Josie across the cheek.

“Owuch, it’s just a ghost story! No need to hit me.”

“Les spectres are too much! Stop it!” You arc an eyebrow at her.

“So, let me get this straight. You aren’t afraid of Hexenkraft, or their soldiers. Who have real guns that fire real bullets that can really hurt you. But you are afraid of a fictional spooky story Josie just told you.”

“Right. Because Hexengrenadiers can’t posses you.” Josie giggles at the exchange.

“Is the big strong Frenchie scared of a ghost? Do you want to hold my hand while we’re in Purgatory Alley?” Another slap resounds throughout the cab. The cab stops in front of the alleyway. The late morning sun bakes down on you. You wish you brought a parasol with you. Maybe Dracula will let you borrow her’s. Wait. What? What a weird thought to have. The alley way’s easily mistaken for any other alley in the city. Dumpsters and trashbags line the walls of the buildings.

“See, it’s just like any other street. Nothing to worry about.” Josie runs into the alleyway, heedless of any possible traps.

[1/2]

>>502373
“You’re all a bunch of ‘fraidy cats!” She blows a raspberry at Diane. You step through into the alleyway too. Nothing out of the ordinary so far. Except for the fact that Babs refuses to come with you. That’s a first. You motion for her to keep following you, but she stands on the precipe of the street. You spot the wispy form of a blonde haired man. He’s carrying a wooden crate full of something down the alleyway. You shake your head, and clear your mind. He isn’t there anymore.

[x] It was nothing, search for physical clues
[x] “AHHHH! A GHOST DIANE HELP ME!”
[x] Follow him.
[x] Write in

>>502377
>[x] “AHHHH! A GHOST DIANE HELP ME!”
Jokingly of course, then:
>[x] Search for physical clues

>>502377
>[x] It was nothing, search for physical clues

You’re seeing things. It must be the combination of stresses of yesterday, and the close call today might be wearing on your mind. Speaking of which, you hope that Russo guy made it out of there alright. You close your eyes and rub your temples, after you open them again, the blonde man has vanished from sight. Was he a ghost? You’re fairly certain that he was a ghost. So they do exist. You decide to take the most logical course of action, and scream at the top of your lungs.

“AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH! A GHOST! DIANE HELP ME QUICK!” Diane screams with you, and she transforms into her magical girl uniform, rapier at the ready.

“Where is it Athena, I’ll gut them like a fi-fish. I-I promise!” She finally finds you, curled up in a ball and laughing like an asylum inmate.

“Y-you should have seen the look on your face! I haven’t seen someone this easily scared since middle school.” Diane pouts at you, and gives you a slight kick to the ribs.

“That was mean, taking advantage of me like that. What if you get attacked by a real ghost?” You slowly rise to your feet, using Diane’s shoulder to support you.

“It won’t happen, because ghosts aren’t real.” You thought the same about zombies, and boy were the Nazis eager to prove you wrong. Now, that you’ve had your fun, it’s time to do some actual work. There isn’t a whole lot in this place to work with. If the mob dumped their victims here, then where are the rotting corpses. In the dumpsters maybe? You flip the lid of one of them, revealing nothing but stinking garbage inside. It’d be a good place to mask the smell of a decomposing body, at least. You proceed down the alleyway, and come to a turn in the alleyway. There that man is again, he makes the turn, and meets with a short, silver haired girl. A revolver is in it’s holster on her hip. He speaks to her, setting down the crate. She laughs, her revolver’s in her hand before you can blink. Half a second later, and a bullet through his head. Scoring from bullets cover the ground and walls. It looks like there was a fight here. Erika calls you over, holding something in between her fingers. It’s a bullet casing.

“For an MP40. Doesn’t look anti magical.” Doesn’t look anti magical, huh. Could it have belonged to some normal Nazi?

“Hang on to it.” Your ears perk up as the sounds of commotion fill the alleyway. It comes from that man, sitting on the crate, swinging his legs which bang against the wood.

[x] Talk to him, ghosts may be real, but they don’t always have to be scary
[x] You only know of one group who would use an MP40 on American soil. See if the carnival’s still in town.
[x] Write in

>>502448
>[x] Talk to him, ghosts may be real, but they don’t always have to be scary

>>502448
>[x] Talk to him, ghosts may be real, but they don’t always have to be scary
Diane is going to love this

>>502448
>Talk to him, ghost may be real, but they don't always have to be scary

File: Rudolph.jpg (220 KB, 301x531)

220 KB JPG

The man’s still kicking against the wooden crate, which looks as incorporeal as he does. He doesn’t seem to notice you approach. You creep closer and closer to him, and he still pays no mind to you. He’s dressed like any other citizen of New York, no one would bat an eye at him if he was still alive. The shirt he’s wearing is slick with blood as is his hair, and as you come closer, you can see a strip of cloth wrapped around his head, covering the entry and exit wounds the bullet made. Diane stares at you, and then the ghost. You spin around, and hush her. Who knows what will happen if you startle him.

“Bu-
“Shhh!” Uh oh. It looks like your attempt to keep Diane from startling him startled him. He rises from his perch.

“Who’s there?” He asks, in very clear english. His voice is rather young, but it still carries menace with it.

“N-no one!” You squeak out. You wince as you hear the cracking of bone, and he turns his head all the way around to face you. Like an owl would. You can only stare at him like an idiot, until he opens his mouth to speak.

“Boo.” You scream like a banshee, and throw yourself into Diane’s arms, who’s screaming louder than you are. The screaming lasts for almost two minutes, until he finally grows tired of it.

“Alright, that’s enough!” He turns the rest of his body around to orientate with his head. He walks closer, and Diane drops you to the ground as she shrinks away in fear.

“You don’t look like mobsters. What’s a bunch of girls like you doing here?” You stammer to find an excuse.

“U-u-uh research, for a school project, yeah!” He rubs his chin in thought.

“Uh-huh. And this project involves hanging out in shady alleys, and sneaking up on ghosts?”

“N-no sir, it was her idea to sneak up on you!” Wow. You thought you were friends with Diane.

“Hm. You didn’t think to walk up to me and talk to me like a normal person?” You shake your head quickly

“N-no, I didn’t, I didn’t know if you would attack me or something like that.”

“I suppose that’s fair. What did you want to talk to a ghost for?”

[x] Who are you, er, were you?
[x] Why’d that girl shoot you?
[x] I thought ghosts were supposed to do spooky things to people. Why haven’t you done anything to us?
[x] Any reason why you’re here, and not y’know on the other side?
[x] Write in

Pick any combination of options you want

File: I don't know what's happening.gif (2.75 MB, 640x360)

2.75 MB GIF

>>502491
>[x] Who are you, er, were you?
>[x] Why’d that girl shoot you?
>[x] Any reason why you’re here, and not y’know on the other side?
>[x] Have you seen a smug blonde girl and a Jap making a deal for German guns?

Also, QM, is Rei's name Yamashiro or Anno, considering she was introduced as Yamashiro but we phoned the Bureau with the name Anno?

Also,
>April 2, 1946
WHAT YEAR ARE WE IN

>>502501
Anno.


>WHAT YEAR ARE WE IN
Middle of 1947

>>502491
I'll go with this: >>502501

File: dusk_tactics_axis_troups_(...).jpg (1.01 MB, 1400x1000)

1.01 MB JPG

>>502506
>1947
Guess that explains the Dust Tactics images used

File: rudolf.png (113 KB, 200x400)

113 KB PNG

As the unbridled terror the comes with interacting with a ghost fades from your system, and reason comes back to your mind, you think of a few questions to ask him. The ghost hovers a few inches above the ground. A pari of glasses also sits on the bridge of the ghost’s nose. Does he really need them now that he doesn’t have a body with bad eyes? You hadn’t noticed that before

“So, who are, er, were you?”

“Hauptmann Rudolf Ziegler. Executive officer of 2nd platoon during Operation: Chamäleon.” You stumble back. That’s a German rank.

“You’re a Kraut!” Josie exclaims.

“And you’re an American.” He responds, as if he was talking to a schoolgirl. Well, this is probably the most civil conversation that you’ll ever have with a genuine member of the Wehrmacht. It helps that he’s already dead, and you probably can’t kill him again. He continues with his explanation.

“As I’m sure you can deduce. Said operation involved inserting assets and equipment into the American underworld, to destabilize the country for a pending German invasion. And what better place to do that then the Big Apple itself?” Pending invasion of America, huh. In their dreams, maybe.

“But, what I know you don’t know is that Chamäleon was a resounding failure. Different agencies and branches of the Nazi government and military backed different gangs. And lo and behold, they were more interested in killing each other than following our orders.” What did they expect. The mob wasn’t exactly the most organized, or discipline group in the world.

“And I’m sure that failure has something to do with why you’re dead.” He nods sagely.

“I was supposed to deliver a smuggled shipment of submachine guns and STGs to a gang calling themselves, ‘The Thompsons’. On behalf of the Wehrmacht. But, apparently, they had already received a shipment of weapons, and anti magic bullets from the Hexenkraft But, they’re not just going to turn down guns.” You put the pieces together rather quickly

“So that girl shot you, and took your gift.” He nods again, drifting through the air around you lazily.

“Exactly. You’re smart. For an American. I died before I hit the ground.” He pulls the fabric wrapped around his head down, and you can see a bit of the entry wound, fragments of bone are lodged inside his skull. You turn away as nausea overtakes you.

“Alright, alright. I get the picture. I don't suppose you would know where the Hexenkraft are operating out of.” He shakes his head.

[1/2]

>>502546
“Things were always tense between the Hexenkraft and the rest of the military. I doubt relations have improved. They don’t share much information with us. But I do know that they like to stick by the water. And I last saw one of them around the piers in Manhattan. I bet that they’re so confident in their magic that they haven’t moved from their base.” This Kraut’s been awfully helpful.

“Uhm. Any reason why you’re helping us?” He shrugs.

“Why not? I don’t have any love for the Hexenkraft, and I’m stuck here for God knows how long. Chamäleon’s a bust, and everyone but the Hexenkraft knows it.”

“Speaking of which, why are you stuck here instead of. Y’know. Moving on.”

“Because he’s probably sinned horribly in life!” Shut it, Josie. He floats above you, lying on his back as he does so.

“Maybe she’s right. Maybe there’s something about this place that keeps people from moving on to heaven. Maybe there is no heaven, and we get stuck wherever we died.” You say your goodbyes to the German ghost. You feel like a great weight’s been lifted off your shoulders as you leave Purgatory Alley.

[x] Head to the Manhattan Piers. See if the Hexenkraft are still there. You’d be able to get back to vacationing sooner after ripping the heart of the problem out
[x] As if you’re going to trust this Kraut. Go tell the Bureau about this place’s ghost problem
[x] Write in

>>502549
>[x] Head to the Manhattan Piers. See if the Hexenkraft are still there. You’d be able to get back to vacationing sooner after ripping the heart of the problem out

File: tauchschiff_projekt super sub.jpg (5.15 MB, 6538x3803)

5.15 MB JPG

>>502549
>[x] Head to the Manhattan Piers. See if the Hexenkraft are still there. You’d be able to get back to vacationing sooner after ripping the heart of the problem out
inb4 giant U-boat

>>502549
>Head to the Manhattan Piers. See if the Hexenkraft are still there. You'd be able to get back to vacationing sooner after ripping the heart of the problem out

File: D4C 2.jpg (397 KB, 707x1000)

397 KB JPG

Babs wraps her arms around your waist as you leave Purgatory Alley. You wonder why she didn’t come with you? Was she deathly afraid of ghosts or something? Maybe she could sense something with whatever magical powers she has? Or maybe it has something to do with her tenuous connection with life. Captain Ziegler did say that there might be something that prevented souls from moving on in that alley. Maybe that had something to do with it. You guess you’ll never know until you find someone to translate for her. Erika’s been surprisingly quiet through all this. She has ties to the Hexenkraft. Maybe she knows something about this Chameleon operation.

“Say, you know anything about what the Hexenkraft were doing in New York, Erika?” She stares out the window of the car in thought. Diane glares at the German girl, she mutters something quietly.

“No. Dracula was more obsessed with Babylon than anything. Maybe some other executive arranged for this. Maybe he planned to prove himself to Dracula by playing a major part in America’s downfall.”

“Do you think that they’ll bring magical girls?” The silver haired German shrugs again.
“Dracula prefers to keep us to herself. Just in case. One or two, maybe.” Hum, having to deal with even two magical girls would complicate things greatly. Especially since Alma’s abilities are so formidable on their own.

It’s a good thing you have Diane around, otherwise you might not be able to afford these trips across the city. You’d ask Joan to drive you around, but you don’t want to trouble her too much. She’s got her plate full as is. The smell of the ocean washes over you as the cab stops at the piers. Ferries and other ships are floating lazily on the waves. Nothing out of the ordinary so far. Until you spot Alma, again. You hide behind a concrete pillar. And take stock of the situation. The leader of the Thompsons is accompanied by her attack dog, Rei. You outnumber them, sure. But Alma could easily take that advantage away from you with a touch. You glance up at the overpass overlooking the pier the pair are standing on. The characteristic silhouettes of weapons poke from above the railing of it. They look like STG-44s. Ziegler did mention that gangs used their weapons to fix their own problems, after all. Neither Alma, nor Rei seems to have noticed the men on the overpass.

[x] Screw it, handle the two before they get a chance to react. And then deal the the Hexenkraft.
[x] Wait, see what transpires here, those gangsters might just do your job for you
[x] Get a closer look at those gangsters. Try talking with one of them afterwards
[x] Write in

>>502599
>[x] Wait, see what transpires here, those gangsters might just do your job for you

>>502599
>[x] Wait, see what transpires here, those gangsters might just do your job for you

>D4C
Now that's pretty worrying

You pin yourself as tightly to the concrete pillar keeping you concealed from the vision of the magical girl. You’re not sure about those people on the overpass, but they don’t seem to have noticed you yet. You hope. They seem preoccupied with Alma and Rei to care about your presence. One of them, wearing a newsboy cap to go along with his fancy looking jacket stands up, and calls out to her. They’re all wearing those caps, as if it was part of a uniform.

“You shoulda known that your debts would come back to bite you, Lucius. It’s time for us to collect.” Alma looks up, seemingly undaunted by sight of a dozen mobsters armed with automatic weapons.

“Oh come on. It was only a thousand dollars. The junk that Rei and I stole for you should cover it easily. It doesn’t have to end in bloodshed.” Rei remains stoically silent at her friend’s side. Her revolver’s shimmering with a strange light. Almost as if it was going through a magical girl transformation. The standing mobster laughs, and many in the gang laugh with him.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be negotiating with us, Lucius. Maybe you shoulda thought of that before you took money from us. Open fire!” Alma’s eyes widen in shock and fear. Has she finally bitten off more than she can chew? You almost feel bad for her. All she wanted was to get rich quick. Sure, she should be punished, but killed? Maybe not. The sound of bullets flying over your heads makes you duck for cover. There’s no way she’s getting out of this. But, you’ve forgotten one crucial thing about Alma. That she’s a magical girl. The white light of transformation consumes your vision, and disappears just as quickly. The mafia goons look at it, stunned. Her transformation hasn’t stopped the bullets from flying her way, though. She clasps her hands together, and then separate them. What happens next makes your heart jump ito your throat. Alma separates her hands, and...something is between them. It’s almost as if she cut the air open. You see stars in the gash. Not in the figurative sense either, real, celestial bodies. The kinds of stars that you need a telescope to see. Just what the hell is her power? Even Dracula’s time stopping powers pale in comparison to this. Alma widens her arms, covering Rei’s body as well as her own. The thugs stand in open mouthed shock as the bullets enter the gash instead of Alma. They don’t bother looking behind them, as Alma closes her hands again. A gash just like the one she made opens behind the thugs, and out come their bullets. Right into the heads.
[1/2]

>>502641

“Now that that’s over with. Let’s go home” She heads into a warehouse, and emerges with a manila envelope. With the Hexenkraft sealed emblazoned on it. Even Josie’s astonished by the display of power on Lucius’s part. She breathes heavily as she walks, eventually relying on Rei to support her. Can’t she just teleport them back to their tenement?

[x] Tail them, there can’t be good things in that folder
[x] Get out of here, you’re no match for her, and all four of you will be in deep trouble if she does something like that again.
[x] Compliment her on how she handled things. That must be a cool trick to show off at parties.
[x] Write in

Gonna call it here for tonight, hope you call enjoyed. Will be back on Thursday night

>>502616
i have character art of dracula that I named Made in Heaven

>>496973
I'm not all that used to writing this kind of stuff, I hope I'm doing a good enough job

>>502642
>[x] Ambush them, grab that folder.

New thread here:
>>511020