>>2789222
> Be prepared to catch Jean.
Knowing the Sengoku Spook, she might not be able to stand after dealing with the sword's mental shenanigans.

>>2789222

>Just continue out back


>>2789044
>That's an interesting idea, although I'd have to really think about what sort of perspective someone like that would have. If the girls we've seen are warped, imagine what years of that lifestyle does to a person... I think someone like that would be very hard to write. Super good idea, though.


Think Ellie, just as a magical girl instead of a demon.

>>2789222
>WRITE IN
"Well, did anyone save room for dessert? With the staff gone, I'm sure they have booze stocked up in the back somewhere."

>>2789279
Don't underestimate moms.

>>2789222
>>Interrupt this
sword wat r u doin.

>>2789282
So similar, just with less crazy and more depression?

>>2789349
probably.....Actually a toned down version of Harriet might work too.

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>>2789279
>>2789282
>>2789337
>>2789349
Well, these appear to be spread across several moderately incompatible options.

Guess I'll just execute them by turns and/or throw them in a blender.

>>2789337
I thought we weren't going to get drunk again for a change.

>>2789222
>Glab the sword too

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>>2789222
"Did ya save room for desert?" you ask, turning back to look at the tables, and get an encouraging response, although you can't see Harriet, "Kelly," you ask the assassin, "did they have any booze?"

"This place doesn't have a liquor license," Kelly tells you, "and besides, I only bought the pizzas."

That has a certain logic to it, you think, and ask "no desserts, then?"

"Dessert pizzas," Kelly tells you, grinning, and you're pretty sure you don't want any of those.

That's a terrible gimmick.

You turn back towards Sue and Jean Macleod, walking up to the girl and the woman both wrapping their hands around the hilt of your sword.

They seem dead to the world, with closed eyes and gritted teeth, sweat, and, well, that's probably sweat too, beading off their faces.

Is Sue actually using the Thousand-fucking-Year Blade to touch her mother's soul?

Or to allow her mother to touch her soul?

You put your hand over the pommel, and you feel grabbed by something, and there's nothing to hang onto, before you're in the VIP seats of some sort of arena.

Where Sue and Jean are going at each other, bare knuckles, no holds barred. The rest of the arena is empty.

"SO YOU SHOWED UP FOR THE MATCH, LORD," you hear from the seat next to you, occupied by a rather nondescript-looking samurai, "GOD, I WANTED COMPANY."

"What the hell is going on?" you ask it, pointing at the ring, "those two are beating the shit out of each other!"

And you realize you can't hear a thing.

"THAT'S WHY I WANTED COMPANY," the samurai says, "THIS IS RATHER STRANGE. I DO NOT THINK I HAVE EVER HOSTED A FIGHT INSIDE MYSELF BEFORE. THEIR SOULS ARE COLLIDING WITHIN ME."

"Is that why it's silent?" you ask, watching Sue wriggle out of a submission hold and slam her knee into her mother's face.

"I DO NOT THINK EITHER OF THEM WISH YOU TO HEAR THIS," he finishes, his face covered by a basket hat, "I AM ATTEMPTING TO LEARN DISCRETION."

>Let me hear it anyway
>I'll respect their privacy, take my hand off you, and talk to Freebles
>I'll just watch
>I'll respect their privacy, take my hand off you, and check on the idiots outside
>Who the hell are you?
>WRITE IN

>>2789488
>>I'll respect their privacy, But since you are my vassal and i'm concerned about their mental health let me hear it anyway

>>2789488
>I'll respect their privacy, but give me very short version.

>>2789488
Supporting >>2789510

>>2789488
>>I'll just watch

>"I AM ATTEMPTING TO LEARN DISCRETION."
So he can be taught!

>>2789488
>>2789510
>give me the broad strokes.

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>>2789488
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GowMI4wvmU4&feature=youtu.be
"I'll respect their privacy," you say, watching Sue get her mother into a chokehold, and Jean thrash her elbow into her daughter's face until Sue finally lets go, "but, please give me the short version. I'm concerned about their mental health."

"FIRM AS MY - THEIR NATIVE ROCK, THEY HAVE WITHSTOOD THE SHOCK," the samurai says, as the scene before you devolves into a very free-for-all wrestling match, "VICTORIOUS IN BATTLEFIELD, SCOTLAND THE BRAVE!"

"Is it really victory?" you ask, looking down on what's happening below you, "they should be on the same side - FUCK! did she just dislocate her shoulder to get out of an arm bar?"

"DEEPEYED IN GORE IS THE GREEN TARTAN'S WAVE," the samurai sitting next to you says, and his eyes fix you under the basket hat, "FREEDOM EXPIRES AMONG AMONG SOFTNESS AND SIGHS! I WON'T LET YOU HEAR THEIR GASPS, THEIR COMPLAINTS AGAINST EACH OTHER, EVEN IF I AM YOUR VASSAL. THEIRS IS A FAMILY MATTER!"

Jesus Christ. Let Italy boast, indeed. That's not a friendly match. You can see them yelling, but hear nothing, as is you're on the other side of a recording studio's window.

At least it's just fists. And feet. And elbows. And everything else a human body can muster.

"LAND OF THE BRAVE AND PROUD," the samurai says, "WELL, ONE LAND OF THE BRAVE OF PROUD. I'D BACK A REAL SAMURAI AGAINST ANY OF THE CLANS."

This is painful to watch. And more painful to not even hear why they're doing it.

"You know what I meant," you say, watching Sue fight on with one flailing arm.

"I STAND FIRM, LORD," the samurai says, "THIS IS THEIR FIGHT. THIS IS HOW THEIR SOULS TOUCH EACH OTHER."

You're just hoping it's not how their bodies have been touching each other.

>I COMMAND you to let me hear
>This is all in their heads and your... uh, blade, right? No recoil?
>Take your hand off the pommel. Your real hand.
>Who are you?
>WRITE IN

>>2789579
> This is all in their heads and your... uh, blade, right? No recoil?
I mean, aside from mental and emotional fatigue. That's completely understandable in this kind of situation.
> Did you have a name before you became the sword?
IF I TAKE OFF YOUR MASK, WILL YOU DIE?

>>2789579
>>2789591
backing this.

>>2789579
> This is all in their heads and your... uh, blade, right? No recoil?
I mean, aside from mental and emotional fatigue. That's completely understandable in this kind of situation.
> Did you have a name before you became the sword?
IF I TAKE OFF YOUR MASK, WILL YOU DIE?

>>2789579
> This is all in their heads and your... uh, blade, right? No recoil?
I mean, aside from mental and emotional fatigue. That's completely understandable in this kind of situation.
> Did you have a name before you became the sword?

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>>2789579
"This is all in their heads," you say, looking at what seems to be the personification of the sword's spirit, "and your... uh, blade, right? No recoil?"

"THIS IS THE MOST HONEST THEY HAVE BEEN WITH EACH OTHER IN YEARS, I FEEL," the samurai says, "OF COURSE THERE WILL BE RECOIL. NOT PHYSICALLY. BUT IT'S STILL GOING TO HURT."

"How did things get like this?" you ask, breathing something of a sigh of relief.

It's still probably not as awful as some of the other introductions to magic.

"SUE PERSUADED JEAN TO TOUCH ME WITH HER," the samurai says, "AND ENTER INTO ME. I THINK SHE WANTED TO HAVE THE SAME SORT OF UNDERSTANDING WITH HER MOTHER THAT SHE SHARES WITH ME."

You can respect that. But why did it take this form? Although it's a pretty even fight, this shit's only good for pay-per-view!

"Did you," you say, trying to distract yourself from the brutal fight happening in the ring, "have a name before you became...?"

"PROBABLY," the samurai says, looking at you under that odd straw hat, "BUT I'VE FORGOTTEN. AND IT DOES NOT MATTER. I BETRAYED MY LORD, I BECAME A RONIN, I GOT SEALED IN A SWORD. WHY REMEMBER ME? I DOUBT HISTORY REMEMBERS MY NAME, WHY SHOULD I?"

"If I take off that hat," you ask, looking for anything to distract you from that fight, "will you die?"

"IT WOULD BE GETTING YOU OUT OF THIS ILLUSION," the samurai says, looking deep into your eyes.

So you pull his hat off.

And you're suddenly on the floor of a pizza place, with Sue, a police officer (Jean, Sue's mom), the sword, and Freebles in a pile around or on top of you.

>I need to check on those guys out back
>This is better than most of my nights on the town, and I'm sober
>Are you two ok?
>Liska, this really isn't what is looks like
>WRITE IN

>>2789657
>>Are you two ok?
>This is better than most of my nights on the town, and I'm sober
>Freebles what are you doing in the pile?

>>2789657
> This is better than most of my nights on the town, and I'm sober.
> I need to check on those guys out back.

>>2789657
>>This is better than most of my nights on the town, and I'm sober
>Freebles what are you doing in the pile?

>>2789657
>Are you two ok?
>This is better than most of my nights on the town, and I'm sober
>Freebles what are you doing in the pile?

>>2789657
Liska, this really isn't what is looks like
Bang bang the mum and her girl

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>>2789657
"This is better wakeup than most of my nights on my town," you says, feeling the magical girl and her mother draped across you, "and I'm even sober."

"Bro," Freebles says form by your ear, "what the hell happened in there?"

"I was about to ask you why you were in this pile," you say, trying to pull yourself off the floor and let Sue and Jean down gently.

"I explained some stuff," the ferret says, jumping onto a table, "and then they both grabbed the sword. Went into him or something. I told Sue it was a stupid idea, bro," he says, looking down at them.

"Maybe it was," you say, as you notice Liska and a few of the magical girls clustered around the collapse, and you all start helping Sue and Jean into booths, Freebles perching on your shoulder, "maybe not. Hopefully nobody tries writing a paper on this style of psychiatry."

"I think," Liska says to you, "that's the only time I've seen the Thousand Year Blade take three people at once."

"Yeah," you tell her, "that was really weird. I was just a spectator for those two."

"You hit the deck a couple seconds after you touched it," Liska says, "did you drag them out with you?"

"Something like that," you tell her, "I pulled the sword's hat off. I guess time's different when you're inside him?"

"I wouldn't know about that," your wife tells you, "I don't usually go inside people. People usually... nevermind. So what happened?" she whispers in your ear.

And you tell her.

"Hell," Liska says, glancing down at the mother and daughter lying on the booths, "I don't think those two will be getting up for a while."

And realize that you have two idiots fighting out back.

>By the way, one-and-a-half demons fighting in the back. I'm staying here. Someone check on them.
>Can someone watch these two for me? I've got a couple of guys fighting in the back.
>Who wants to see the weird red hand throw down of the century?
>WRITE IN

>>2789757
>>Can someone watch these two for me? I've got a couple of guys fighting in the back.

>>2789757
>Can someone watch these two for me? I've got a couple of guys fighting in the back.
Well this is a far cry from the peaceful dinner I expected. Then again this is normal to them...

>>2789757
>>Can someone watch these two for me? I've got a couple of guys fighting in the back.

>>2789757
> Who wants to see the weird red hand throw down of the century?
> No betting unless you're 18 or older.
> Nonchalantly bring Liska in for a snog.
> Check on where favorite daughteru has gotten to.

>>2789757
>Can someone watch these two for me? I've got a couple of guys fighting in the back.
>Who wants to see the weird red hand throw down of the century?

>>2789757
Who wants to see the weird red hand throw down of the century?
Such a dirty wife she is, she was going to say normaly people go into her

>>2789785
She is ~700 years old, she can make that claim. What i'm more interested is in the "usually "part.

>>2789757
>"I think," Liska says to you, "that's the only time I've seen the Thousand Year Blade take three people at once."

Did we just gangbang the sword?

Waaaaaait. Does that mean we could bang people in the sword and have it not count?

>>Can someone watch these two for me? I've got a couple of guys fighting in the back.

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>>2789757
"Can someone please watch these two?" you ask the room at large, "I've got a couple guys fighting in the back."

Kelly walks over to you, then whispers in your ear "I think almost everyone else wants to see this. I'll stay with them. Tell me what tricks the police chief has up his sleeves, though."

"I'll stay in, too," Myrna says, near-collapsing into a chair, "I don't think it's the kinda fight I want to watch."

Considering the kinda fight you saw her participate in...

"I'll get the low-down later," Rachel tells you with a glare that dares you to contradict her, "I'm staying with them for this. Any idea when they'll wake up?" she asks, stroking Sue's cheek.

"And I want some research on out of body experiences," Shirley says, walking back toward the booths, "few minutes to a month," she says.

Yeah, if that's why she's making an excuse to be around her sister, you're a fuckin' dragon.

Then you head out through the back door, almost slamming into Harriet.

"I was hitting the 'nobody sees it' field," she whispers, and you look at one-point-five demons slinging fists at each other, "thought we'd need it."

Yeah, you're all gonna need it. Rick is a very large, very red demon.

At least Rob's not using his sword.

That might put him at a disadvantage, considering that Rick's got a goddamn sledgehammer for a fist!

You got here in the middle of a fistfight, didn't you?

"And why do you care?" Rob asks, ducking around a punch, "what, is she your daughter?"

That opens an odd realm of possibilities. They're more disturbing than before!

Seems like you came out in the middle of an odd conversation.

"Hell no," Rick says, jumping at Rob, "and fuck you for implying it!" he yells, bring that huge fist down, "brother!"

"I've never had a brother before!" Rob tells him, dancing away, "god, let's GO!" you hear at least two voices yell from his throat.

"Be my fuckin' guest!" Rick yells, and before you can react, they hit each other, fist-on-fist.

Huh. Well, it didn't end the world.

It didn't even end the alley.

Both the idiots are standing there, fists locked, after the shockwave and dust dissipates.

>Was that just the warm-up? Grab your weapons for the second round, brothers.
>How do we do the annual Weird Hand Award if this happens? I think that was a draw.
>Ok, actually go for it this time. Fucking fight!
>Brothers, I think that's a draw.
>WRITE IN

>>2789885
>>Brothers, I think that's a draw.
There's nothing productive going on here, and we have no business mixing it up with them.

>>2789885
>How do we do the annual Weird Hand Award if this happens? I think that was a draw.

>>2789885
>Brothers, I think that's a draw.

>>2789885
> Ask them if they figured out whose is bigger, or if they are gonna have to drop trou to settle the issue.

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>>2789885
"Brothers," you say, in a voice the cuts through the stillness after that collision, "I think that's a draw."

Rick and Rob look at you, through a variety of eyes.

"I'll take that as a slip of the tongue," Rick says, shrinking back into the familiar figure of the police chief, and looking at you, "you are my lord, not my brother. Otherwise, I could smoke inside. Still accepting the draw, though."

That's... Is that really the important distinction between sworn brothers and sworn, uh, subordinates?

"Yours is bigger," Rob says to him, "but I've got some skill in using mine."

"If you didn't have skill," Rick tells Rob, slapping him on the back, "I would have shattered it!"

"You were actually trying to rip my arm off?" Rob asks, smirking, "I thought it was a fist bump."

"Call it 'accelerated training'," the demon tells him with an awkward smile, "anyway, you were the one who dragged me out here."

"I figured we weren't too useful for what was happening inside," Rob mutters at Rick.

"Kid," you hear the demon starts, and you hear nothing else, although you can see him whispering in Rob's ear.

You're still not sure what the fuck anything that just happened means.

And if seems like your magical girls thought it was kind of a let down. Well, with a few exceptions that are giggling themselves sick.

>Don't be disappointed, girls. Things aren't supposed to end in horrifying bloodshed all the time!
>Ask a giggling magical girl what's got her laughing
>Go check back on Sue and Jean
>Put an arm over Rob and Rick and ask what the hell that was about
>WRITE IN

>>2789935
>Don't be disappointed, girls. Things aren't supposed to end in horrifying bloodshed all the time!
>Ask a giggling magical girl what's got her laughing

>>2789935
>Don't be disappointed, girls. Things aren't supposed to end in horrifying bloodshed all the time!
>Ask a giggling magical girl what's got her laughing

>>2789935
>>Don't be disappointed, girls. Things aren't supposed to end in horrifying bloodshed all the time!

>>2789935
>Don't be disappointed, girls. Things aren't supposed to end in horrifying bloodshed all the time!
>Ask a giggling magical girl what's got her laughing

>>2789935
Don't be disappointed, girls. Things aren't supposed to end in horrifying bloodshed all the time!

>>2789938
Supportin

>>2789935
>Don't be disappointed, girls. Things aren't supposed to end in horrifying bloodshed all the time!

Giggling girls are best left alone. Not all knowledge is good.

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>>2789935
"Don't be disappointed," you say, "things aren't supposed to end in horrifying bloodshed all the time."

It does seem rather anticlimactic, watching those two walk back inside the restaurant.

Harriet's giggling as you walk past her, following them.

"What's so funny?" you mutter at her.

"Can't you see it?" she whispers, "It's such a dumb situation."

"No, I really can't," you whisper back, "they're just fighting because they're demons, right? Or half demons?"

"Did that look like one-and-a-half demons slugging it out?" Harriet whispers back to you, smirking as the two of you walk toward the restaurant's back door, "hell, that was more polite than most magical girl fights!"

Well, most of the demons you know are slightly more polite than magical girls, you think, as you push open the back door of the pizza place, and see Sue and Jean sitting up, slightly dazed, as Freebles plies them with water.

"You ok, officer Macleod?" Rick asks his subordinate, kneeling by the booth, and you shoot a glance at Harriet.

"About a quarter of the timelines," she whispers at you, grinning, "it happens. Although most of them really aren't pretty. And I hate the guy myself."

He was a bit fast on revealing his true form, wasn't he? As if he wanted to be rejected. And put an end to anything that could happen.

Oh hell. Scotland is too damn brave.

"Sent me to a mental institution," Harriet whispers, "a couple of times. I wasted him a couple of others."

"I'm sort of ok," Jean says, hugging Sue, "we had a... moment."

That wasn't a moment, that was a knock-down drag-out fight!

"I still love you," you barely hear Sue say, "mom. And those elbows were great."

Yeah, this is the deep end.

>Harriet, he's going to apologize on bended knee
>Am I a one-man matchmaking bureau?
>Everyone here is a fucking head case, and I'm going home.
>"really aren't pretty"?
>WRITE IN

>>2789983
>Am I a one-man matchmaking bureau?

>>2789983
> Just one-arm hug Harriet.

Then shout out

> Am I a one-man matchmaking bureau? Let's shut this party down, everyone you don't have to come home but you can't stay here.

>>2789983
>>Everyone here is a fucking head case, and I'm going home.
It's stupid to judge someone based on something they did in another timeline. The person you're talking to never did those things, may have never even considered those things.

>>2789044
I stopped reading Prisma pretty quickly. Trying to find chapters properly tended to be a bitch.
Bazatt basically joined the grail war for a chance to fight Cuchulain (plus fix that whole tragedy thing) since he's a great hero she looked up to since she was a kid and all of that. Her being Irish presumably factors into that. Her family got entrusted with some ancient sword (Fragrach)and they're all proficient at using it due to some weirdo genetic memory inheritance thing.(They never even have to bother studying magecraft since they automatically learned the lessons unlike normal mages) She can basically wreck most servants in the grail war, usually either defeats or draws with Cuchulain whenever they actually fight (with the draws being due to Nasu's inability to not have everything be a shocking twist to break da rules)
She's basically a monster in that she's stronger than that assassin guy buffed up by Medea all on her own while also being "3x" stronger as a mage than Rin the local Mary Sue. The only reason she gets taken out of the war so fast is Kotomine backstabbing her while she was mid summon since he was supposed to be an impartial observer.
Supposedly Kotomine during Fate/Zero was stronger, but that bastard had dozens of command seals he was burning through like white people with cocaine.
I question whatever thought process the mage association went through that determined Irish Juggernaut had absolutely nothing of value for them to be bothered with.


>>2789983
>Sue, please tell me that Rick isn't your stepdad or something.
>I had better not have secret matchmaking powers

>>2789983
>One arm hug Harriet
>Do i have matchmaking powers?

>>2789935
>Don't be disappointed, girls. Things aren't supposed to end in horrifying bloodshed all the time!

Maybe one day we can be violence free

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>>2790024
> Maybe one day we can be violence free
Oh, oh, you poor thing. Words cannot express.

>>2789983
Am I a one-man matchmaking bureau?

>>2789983
> Am I a one-man matchmaking bureau?
> Everyone here is a fucking head case, and I am fond of (maybe even care about) most of you, but I'm going home.

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>>2789983
You put an arm around Harriet, and whisper "please tell me I'm not a one-man matchmaking bureau."

"I think that might actually be your magical power," she mutters back at you, "getting everyone laid."

Oh HELL. So that's why your buddies thought you were the perfect wingman?

"And you fought on with your shoulder dislocated!" Jean Macleod say, running her hands over her daughter to make sure none of the horrifying injuries were real, "that's my girl!" And the police officer goes red, realizing how many people heard that.

Ok, Sue comes by it honestly.

"It was all in our heads," Sue says, "mom. Uh, that's something the Thousand Year Blade does."

"Something it's done once in seven hundred years," Liska tells them, bringing more water, "that is the dumbest thing I've ever seen that sword do. But," she continues, setting the water on the booth table and hugging them both, "probably the best."

"I think," you mutter at Harriet, "it's more about 'forging bonds between people'. Or creating circumstances where that happens."

"Can't tell if you're joking," she whispers back, "if you're lucky, if you're good, or if you can actually rewrite fate."

"If I could rewrite fate, snip and tie the red string, and all that," you whisper, "W would already be writing a paper about it."

Harriet starts laughing, and pulls out of your one-armed hug.

"Alright, folks," you say, "closing time - you know the song: you don't have to go home, but we can't stay here."

"Most of us are going back to your place anyway," Kelly deadpans.

"I've got kids to deal with," Rick says, standing up, "and I didn't pay the babysitter for two nights," he says, giving a glance you can't interpret, and vanishes.

Fucking demons.

"I'm technically still on shift," Jean says, utterly unable to move under Sue and Liska, "uh, actually," she says, looking at her watch, "I think that ended a couple minutes ago."

>Well, everyone, come on over to my place.
>You guys have to stop freeloading at my place - I'm not in a coma anymore
>Sue, why don't you ride along with your mother? We teleported in, but she's still got a squad car out there.
>WRITE IN

>>2790050
>>You guys have to stop freeloading at my place - I'm not in a coma anymore
At some point, you people need to actually go back to your own houses.
Sue and her mom are working (or have worked) out their issues, they don't need us interfering with that.

>>2790050
>At this rate we may as well start adding another level onto the house with the amount of people that sleep over there.

>>2790050
Actually changing >>2790063 to >>2790054

Let's get to the Zeus file on Monday in the office.

>>2790060
I would be afraid of them taking us up on it, and attempting amateur engineering and construction before we could get a word in edgewise.

>>2790050
>>At this rate we may as well start adding another level onto the house with the amount of people that sleep over there.
>Sue, why don't you ride along with your mother? We teleported in, but she's still got a squad car out there.

The logistics of this are rather funny:

Kelly's family car is at the MC's house.

Madison's group has a camper outside of town.

Officer Macleod has a squad car she needs to drive wherever she spends the night.

W and Freebles are the only people/entities capable of mass teleport.

Sorting everyone out is at least three teleports for W, and the given drive for Jean.

>>2790070
Just handwave that part.

I mean. Not like we've been tracking bathroom breaks.

>>2790066
Are you telling me you don't want our "minions" to build our 5 mile by 5 mile dungeon underneath the suburbs so we can also be a Dungeon Keeper?
I mean sure we can put their efforts elsewhere.

>>2790050
>You guys have to stop freeloading at my place - I'm not in a coma anymore
>At this rate we may as well start adding another level onto the house with the amount of people that sleep over there.
I would love to find out >>2790080 happened afterwards as well.

>>2790050
>Sue, why don't you ride along with your mother? We teleported in, but she's still got a squad car out there.
>Officer Macleod. I'm sure you still have some business with me as a parent. I'm going to finally get back to my job tomorrow and hope I actually have a normal day for once. Let me know a time to try and let everyone fill you in on the details. Oh, If one of those rats shows up, pretend you have no idea this group or magic exists if you value any of our lives including your own.

>>2790070
I'm pretty sure that MC is going to have to actually ask Bernie how much that hypothetical raise he spoke about is and add extra floors to his house.

>>2790091
>>2790050
James, aren't you a millionaire now? Surely you can afford to get a house nearby?

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>>2790050
"I'm not in a coma anymore," you say, "you guys have got to freeloading at my place."

"Technically," Kelly says, getting his coat back on, "we've just been sleeping there. We've been splitting groceries, my son's been cooking, and Liska," he says, glaring at your wife, "even made us split utilities for that month."

Well, you think, as Liska disentangles herself from the Macleods, you can't quite call them freeloaders.

"If you're all going to keep staying there," you say, "we're going to have to add another story to the house. Maybe three stories and a basement. Unless you really like sleeping bags and couches. And I think my guest bedroom got scratched last night."

Several people nod at that last bit.

"Can I please sleep in my own bed?" several voices say, almost in unison, and W and Kelly are besieged by their families.

"I'd actually like to check on the camper," Madison tells you, walking up as you watch the two wizards trying to figure things out, "make sure the farmer hasn't sold it for scrap or something."

"That's a real possibility," James agrees, "but we teleported here. It's a logistics problem."

Well, you're good at those.

...when you aren't arguing them with wizards and their families.

Eventually, things get settled. Jean's going to take Sue back home in the squad car. Mary's going to drag Harriet on a flight to her apartment, then fly to her own place.

A sneaking suspicion crosses your mind that they both live in that office you went to once. There were a lot of blankets on that couch.

W's going to teleport his family, Kelly's family, Madison's group, and your family back to your house, where Kelly will grab his car and his family and drive back to his place.

Then W will teleport his folks and Madison's group out to the camper, and from there, teleport his family home.

There was some argument about whether W needed to make all three jumps, but Freebles pointed out that the energy would be coming from his stocks, which he pays his boss from, and it's pretty hard to argue with a magical ferret who's getting his ears scratched by a cute police officer.

"Alright," Kelly says, slapping a stack of Benjamins into the restaurant's till, and slamming it shut, "we're done here."

"Officer Macleod," you whisper, catching her as she walks out, "you probably have some business with me as a parent."

"Maybe," Jean says, "it's been a lot to take in."

"I'm hoping to have a normal day at the office tomorrow," you tell her, "for once. Let me know a time that works to get someone to fill you in on the details."

"I think Sue can get me the gist of it," she says, ruffling her daughter's hair, "but I'll let you know."

"And if a rat shows up," you tell her, "please pretend you don't know anything."

"I get it," she says, then whispers, "Sue and Freebles told me what's going on."

"And I saw you watching us," Sue whispers suddenly in your other ear, before walking out the front door with her mother.

[1/2]

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>>2790106
For once, a plan you're involved in goes off without a hitch.

W takes most of everyone to your place, Kelly drive off with his family, W ports out with his family and Madison's crew for the campsite, and you hope that goes well, breathing a sigh of relief.

"It's really quiet," Melon says, once everyone's left.

"That's a nice, normal, Sunday night," you tell her.

"It does feel weird to not have everyone swarming around," Liska says, and looks at you, "but that means we have more of the house to ourselves, doesn't it?"

You know that look.

"I'm going to enjoy not having to kick my friends out of my bed at three in the morning," Melon says, "and not having a line for the showers. A shower sounds awesome right now," she says, and heads off to the bathroom.

She might have winked at her mother. You're not sure.

"I've been to Hell today," you tell Liska, "a shower sounds good to me too."

"And I'm joining you," she growls.

At some point later, you're laying on your bed, freshly-washed foxtails as a second blanket. And very tired.

It's been a long day.

>So Sue's mom gave me this phone number last night - want to call it?
>Well, what'd you think of officer Macleod, dear?
>I can't tell if everything's getting better or worse, Liska
>So, we left Haru in Hell
>WRITE IN

>>2790121
>>I can't tell if everything's getting better or worse, Liska

>>2790121
>I can't tell if everything's getting better or worse, Liska

>>2790121
>>So, we left Haru in Hell

>>2790121
>So, we left Haru in Hell
>I can't tell if everything's getting better or worse, Liska

>>2790121
>I can't tell if everything's getting better or worse, Liska

>>2790121
>So, we left Haru in Hell
>I can't tell if everything's getting better or worse, Liska

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I think I'm punching out. What, nobody wants to open Schrodinger's number? You want to keep hiding it from the MC's wife?

Next runtime (hopefully tomorrow) on the twitter: https://twitter.com/HaikuDeluge
Archive here (for anyone that wants it): http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Shotgun
This Character List/Info Doc is outdated, but it's better than nothing: https://pastebin.com/54JEEFtf

>>2790010
>implying I don't know who Bazett is
I just saw the Prisma pic, and said I didn't know her incarnation in that show.
>Nasu's inability to not have everything be a shocking twist to break da rules
As you can see from the number of things in this quest that are on the "bleeding edge, goddamit, I'm writing a paper on this!" of magic, I do love that.
Fragarach is still some real bullshit, though.
>>2790077
>Just handwave that part.
I feel like the 'dad logistics' of "who rides with who?" is thematically appropriate to pay attention to for this quest. I have handwaved it before, but I liked it here.
>>2790092
>James, aren't you a millionaire now?
This is a great question. A really superbly good question. A question that I'm sure James is getting asked by everyone else in the beat-up Winnebago camper tonight.

Multiple times.

>>2790143
My best guess is that the money was used to either pay off a debt or it was quickly lost because James is not too good with spending money wisely.

>>2790121
>>WRITE IN

Sleep the dreams of the dad.

I kinda want to call Schrodinger's number and have it be Sue's mom. Mostly because that's the most guilt-free threesome Liska could talk us into, considering she's both single (I believe) and not underage.

The only awkwardness would come from banging the mom of a girl who wants to bang us.

>>2790143
i feel like it's not the right time for that, but maybe that's just me

>>2790153
I mean, RIGHT NOW's not quite the right time. But soon enough, maybe. I'm like 90% sure it'll happen eventually though. Because Liska.

>>2790146
Seems a bit excessive and a bit dumb when he's now working for a damn accountant.

>>2790150
I'm just waiting for a drunk and horny Liska to suggest bringing both Jean AND Sue in for some fun times, with the Sengoku Spook backing her up.

Que torrential sweating and nose bleeds.

>>2790155
>>2790159
No.

>>2790143
Ehh guess I'll add checking the number with Liska to my earlier vote since most people are voting two things anyways.

>>2790167
Okay but why though?

>>2790197
I like that we've kept to the whole monogamy thing.

Also, if we bang Sue's mom then we gotta bang Sue and really shit's getting out of hand at that point.

Also, I am PRETTY sure it would be a bad idea to call her for a hookup after all the shit that happened tonight.

That's just asking to look like we're taking advantage of highschool girls.

>>2790121
>I can't tell if everything's getting better or worse, Liska

>So Sue's mom gave me this phone number last night - want to call it?
fine

>>2790202

>>I like that we've kept to the whole monogamy thing.

Monogomy's fine, but it's not cheating if Liska wants a threesome and we're willing to go along with it.

>>Also, if we bang Sue's mom then we gotta bang Sue and really shit's getting out of hand at that point.

No, we really don't. Jean being single/of age is the whole reason this even being considered.

>>Also, I am PRETTY sure it would be a bad idea to call her for a hookup after all the shit that happened tonight.

Agreed, which is why, assuming the number is even hers, it wouldn't be happening tonight.

>>2790121
>>So Sue's mom gave me this phone number last night - want to call it?

>>2790210
Just because Liska wants a harem, doesn't mean the MC has to.

>>2790295
but what if she wants it for her birthday?

>>2790308
I like to think she respects him too much to force it on him like that.

>>2790121
>>I can't tell if everything's getting better or worse, Liska
>>So, we left Haru in Hell

>You want to keep hiding it from the MC's wife?
..She knows it exists. she mentioned that she was impressed we got a girl's number while wearing our ring when we first got back from that drive.

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Well, this is what I should have expected to wake up to.

Time to tallywhacker some votes, I guess.

The real question is whether I should stick to the original plan for whose number it is.

>>2790146
>used to either pay off a debt
That seems like something James might need to do.
>or it was quickly lost because James is not too good with spending money wisely
I don't think he's had the time yet. It's been a busy 24 hours.
Although the idea of James fielding "are we rich now?" questions from a bunch of magical girls in a cheap camper amuses me.
>>2790150
>banging the mom of a girl who wants to bang us
This is a ticket to a DEAD END where Sue cuts contract, murders several people very messily, and probably walks into Hell.
Well, Ellie might get something/someone she wants.
>>2790159
>drunk and horny Liska to suggest
She is rather suggestive.
>bringing both Jean AND Sue in for some fun times
>>2790202
>shit's getting out of hand at that point.
Even with the power of DAD LOGISTICS, I doubt the MC could satisfy... wait, Liska would be all over them too.
That might work, although it would probably generate several other mad and violent people, and lead to no end of awkwardness.
>call her for a hookup after all the shit that happened tonight.
That's not what I meant with that option.
>>2790360
>She knows it exists. she mentioned that she was impressed we got a girl's number while wearing our ring when we first got back from that drive
Oh, shit, you're right. Keeping track of continuity becomes harder over time. Thanks for reminding me.

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>>2790121
"I can't tell if everything's better or worse, Liska," you say, and she turns to look at you.

"Definitely better," she says, "that's the first time we've done it like that in the shower. And you threw me on the bed afterward? It's good to have you back," she says, pecking your cheek.

"It's good to be back," you say, rolling over to face her, "but you know what I meant. All this, well, stuff. Killing dukes of Hell like it's a day's work. Playing obscure subtext powergames with Bernie - I don't remember him doing that before I got dragged into this. The shit I've dragged the girls and their families into. Just... everything."

She rolls onto you, face oddly serious, and you see her tails behind her.

"Did you see," she says, her sharp teeth brushing your earlobe, "Harriet playing dressup? Putting stupid coats on her shoulders, instead of that burden she's been bearing? I'd say things are a lot better."

"We actually left your brother in Hell," you tell her.

"And if Ellie's anything like you," Liska says, laughing, "Haru's damn happy there. I'm more worried about her."

"I'm more worried about him," you say, and feel your wife's teeth barely prick the skin where your shoulder meets your neck.

Then she licks the blood off.

"I'd dare her to get wilder than he can be," she says, rolling off, her tails spread over both of you, "I think you put two regenerating switches with a thing for blood in bed together."

"Wasn't exactly what I meant to d-" you say, before Liska interrupts you with her tongue on JUST that place on your neck.

You can't even think straight.

"And I don't think Hell's the worst place he's be-" Liska says, and gives a rather satisfying 'eep' as you roll onto her and press her to the bed.

"Are you all like this?" you ask, "Christ, is that shrine maiden even still alive?"

"You are," Liska says, grinning up from under you, "we only play rough with someone who can take it."

Everything after that's a bit of a blur.

And the alarm clock reads 3am as you pull yourself out of bed, disentangling yourself from a number of tails. Unfortunately, you've got to make a trip to the head.

The mirror in the bathroom makes you look like you've been mauled by a bear. Very gently mauled.

"Mmm," Liska says, half-asleep as you cuddle into her again, returning from your trip.

"You know," she whispers, "I like it better like this. Where everyone can show who they really are."

"I might like it too," you tell her, and - is this round four? Five?

The alarm drags you away from sleep at 6:30. Liska's still comatose, as you begin your morning routine.

[1/2]

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>>2790435
Shave. Shower. Get on a suit. Kiss your sleeping wife, who's still sprawled out on the bed, her tails the best blanket anyone could have.

Liska never was a morning person, you think, heading for the kitchen to make breakfast.

Someone's already frying eggs, by that smell.

Peeking into the kitchen, you see Melon stirring a frying pan, and the coffeemaker already going.

You hug Melon from behind, and she makes a noise far too much like some you've heard from her mother.

"Hey dad," she says, and then looks at you, "what happened to your neck?"

>Uh, your mother gets a bit wild sometimes
>Glad you didn't inherit the 'not a morning person thing'
>What do you think?
>So, I haven't gotten a chance to talk to you about what happened yesterday
>WRITE IN

>>2790435
>QM's writing smut
That explains why it took so long.

Good to catch this live again, QM.

>>2790439
>What do you think?
>Glad you didn't inherit the 'not a morning person thing'

>>2790439
>>Glad you didn't inherit the 'not a morning person thing'

>>2790439
>....Shaving problem. Yes, shaving problem.
>>Glad you didn't inherit the 'not a morning person thing'
Melon can imply whatever she wants from that. We don't have to get more explicit than that.

>>2790439
>Oh, nothing.
>Glad you didn't inherit the 'not a morning person thing'
should we rush back up and try to camouflage it?

>>2790441
10:52 - 11:10ish voting period.

>QM's writing smut
I'm just writing an affectionate married couple having a conversation in bed. Far more fun than a Tab A into Slot B piece.
I do like how Liska's opening up, after having hidden an entire side of who/what she is from the MC for years.
It's not lewd! There wasn't even any hand-holding!

>>2790449
we can always make liska cure us. Kitsune's saliva can close wounds, right?

>>2790439
>Nothing that you should think about
>Any of your friends actually play softball? I should actually put more effort into that cover story like actually having equipment.

>>2790451
>affectionate married couple
Foreplay is still (questionably) smut.

>It's not lewd! There wasn't even any hand-holding!
Ahh! Stricken through the heart!
You got me there, QM.

>how Liska's opening up, after having hidden an entire side of who/what she is from the MC for years.
>puerilegiggle.jpg.png.datcord
But seriously, this is quite nice. A refreshing change from the drama! drama! that tends to attempt to get stuck into every scene by some other writers I've had the displeasure of reading.

>>2790439
Ask her who showed her how to cook like this

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>>2790439
"Shaving problem," you tell your daughter, with the straightest face you can muster, as you step back across the kitchen, "definitely a shaving problem."

Her face goes a bit pinkish, or maybe that's just the heat from the stove, "a 'shaving problem' that kept waking me up last night?"

"Nothing you should worry about, at least," you tell her, wondering exactly how loud things had gotten, "I'm glad you didn't inherit the 'not a morning person' thing."

"I think I did," Melon says, turning away from you to tend to the eggs, "but getting up to cook has sort of become a habit this past month."

...oh. You'd bet she wasn't cooking by herself.

"Is it that bad?" you ask, rubbing your neck, and get an indignant stare.

"Dad," Melon says, with a warning tone, "it's not your deal."

"I was just talking about my neck," you tell her.

"Unless you're wearing a scarf," Melon says, looking at you, "you're going to get stares."

Considering that half the office watched Liska french you while dropping you off, you're not too worried.

"And I think these are done," Melon finishes, dishing up a couple plates of eggs and toast.

Well, it's apparently breakfast time.

>Just... don't take Ellie's advice about that too seriously
>If you want advice, you can ask me. I was a teenage boy once
>I'm afraid I have to ask about the drugs
>So how was the raid on Hell for you?
>WRITE IN

>>2790490
>>So how was the raid on Hell for you?

>>2790490
>>Just... don't take Ellie's advice about that too seriously
>>If you want advice, you can ask me. I was a teenage boy once
>>I'm afraid I have to ask about the drugs

>>2790490
>>If you want advice, you can ask me. I was a teenage boy once

>>2790490
>BUT WHICH OPTION IS THE BAIT OPTION?

All of them. It's all of them, every time.

>>2790490
>>>2790490 #
>>>Just... don't take Ellie's advice about that too seriously
>>>If you want advice, you can ask me. I was a teenage boy once
>>>I'm afraid I have to ask about the drugs

>>2790490
Changing my vote cuz telling her she can talk to us then coming down on her is bad strat.
>Just... don't take Ellie's advice about that too seriously
>If you want advice, you can ask me. I was a teenage boy once

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>>2790490
"Thanks," you say, as the two of you sit down at the table.

"They're really good," you tell her, after taking a bite, "so who got you cooking like this?"

"You know mom taught me," Melon says, studying you through carefully-guarded eyes.

Good grief. Into the valley of death ride the six hundred.

"If you want advice," you say, spearing another bite, "you can ask. I was a teenage boy, too, once. And I wouldn't put too much stock by whatever Ellie said."

"You were listening to that?" she asks, her face going redder.

"I heard you ask," you say, "and I... well, I know my sister. Your aunt didn't have a, uh, great track record, even before she went to Hell."

It feels like speaking ill of the dead, somehow.

"When I want advice," Melon says, a bit on edge, "I'll ask for it."

Yeah, this month has been a bit rougher on some people than others. It's definitely sharpened your daughter a bit.

"And it would feel kind of weird to get advice about that from my dad, right?" she asks, "aren't you supposed to be sitting on the porch cleaning a shotgun and muttering about what happens if I'm not back home by midnight?"

"I think everyone involved has a pretty good idea about that already," you tell her with a wink, "look, just don't live your life like you're going to die tomorrow, alright?" you finish, and reach across the table to pat her head.

You don't touch the ears this time. They're fuzzy, but you've got a decent idea of what 'sensitive' means.

"I'll... try," Melon says, "it's weird for the house to be this quiet, isn't it?"

Yeah, normal's beginning to feel weird.

"I do sort of like the peace and quiet," you tell her, "want me to drop you at school, or you want to wait for your mother?"

"I think I'll ride with you today, dad," she says, and the two of you finish breakfast together.

It does feel a bit odd to be driving without a bunch of fools in the backseat, no sword screaming into your head, no wizards talking about scary things, just Melon riding shotgun with the winds flicking at her hair. The ears are gone already.

There's something enjoyable about being able to have a quiet moment with your daughter, you think, pulling up in front of her school.

She leans over and pecks you on the cheek, "have a good day, dad," she tells you, before walking toward the entrance.

Oh, hell, you did mean to ask about the drugs. But it would have ruined the moment.

And it's not as if you're clean on that score yourself, you think, pulling out to continue your drive to work.

And you command attention when you walk in. It might be because they heard you had cancer.

It might be the suit.

It might be because a kitsune very emphatically marked your neck as hers last night.

>Confront co-worker's stares at your neck with stony silence
>Confront co-worker's stares at your neck with a knowing wink
>Confront co-worker's stares at your neck with a dismissive frown
>It was thyroid cancer, guys.
>WRITE IN

>>2790626
>>Confront co-worker's stares at your neck with a knowing wink

>>2790626
>>It was thyroid cancer, guys.

>>2790626
>Confront co-worker's stares at your neck with stony silence

>>2790626
>>Confront co-worker's stares at your neck with stony silence
Let them wonder.

>>2790626
>Say hi to one of our co-worker buddies and ask if there's any news you need to catch up on. (We do have actual friends at work don't we?)

>>2790626
Come in nice and cheerful because it's going to be a beautiful 100% normal day day. Possibly while whistling with a pep in our step. Co-worker's stares don't matter.

>>2790644
>We do, and its Fred.

>>2790626
>>Confront co-worker's stares at your neck with a dismissive frown

>>2790626
>>Confront co-worker's stares at your neck with a knowing wink

>>2790626
>Confront co-worker's stares at your neck with a knowing wink
and showing them our ring, before any misunderstanding happens, i guess?

>>2790626
supporting >>2790649

Next post is delayed because I went out for food and am eating.

Bargain bin salami tastes better than salami you paid full price for!

I haven't hit the floor.

>>2790679
And can also make you twice as sick! So much value for so little price!
I kid, mostly, I buy clearance myself when I get the chance!

holyshit, wish i learned you where back sooner.

>>2790626
>Confront co-worker's stares at your neck with a knowing wink

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>>2790626
"Morning," the receptionist says, as you walk over to her desk, "glad to see your recovery is going... well," she says, her eyes tracing over your neck.

Great, your most visible wounds since you started messing with the supernatural, and Liska gave them to you.

Was she feeling possessive after Sue's little display last night?

Or are you just starting to see her true face?

You're pretty sure nobody would want your liver, with all the damage you've done to it over the years.

"They tell me it was touch-and-go for a bit," you say, "anything come in for me while I was out?"

"We had them sent to your office," the receptionist tells you, "and it's good to have you back."

"Thanks, it's good to be back," you say, and walk to the elevators, ignoring any stray looks you catch.

Wait, multiple things came in for you?

Given your accounts...

And who's been handling them, anyway? Just Bernie?

Finally the elevator comes, and you step in, but hold the door for Frank. He's not exactly a friend, but you do chat sometimes.

"Thanks," he says, panting and leaning against the wall of the elevator, "you're a lifesave- Jesus!" he yells, looking at your neck as the doors close, "was the cancer a cover story for wrestling bears in Alaska or something?"

It didn't look THAT bad to you in the mirror this morning. But your scale might be a little off recently.

After all, you're beginning to get used to seeing shotgun amputations.

>I've got interesting hobbies
>Unfortunately not
>Don't call my wife that
>How've you been holding up?
>WRITE IN

>>2790777
>>Don't call my wife that
>>How've you been holding up?

>>2790777
>I went from being nearly dead to being fully cured in a month, my wife was -really- happy to have me back and healthy

>>2790777
>>How've you been holding up?

>>2790777
>>I've got interesting hobbies
Being vague about any hobbies we might or might no have will be a useful long-term cover for any other odd injuries we acquire dealing with supernaturals.

>>2790777
>Don't call my wife that again
>She's a bit.. enthusiastic about me being back in the land of the living.
>>2790790
Like how Bernie being vague has totally not gotten everyone in the office to try and figure out what his deal is? You're doing everything in your power to make em more interested by being vague and mysterious.

>>2790777
>>Unfortunately not

>>2790777
>Don't call my wife that, She missed me being alive
>How've you been holding up?

>>2790796
Support

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>>2790777
"Don't call my wife that, man," you tell him, stroking your throat, "they tell me I died on the operating table, and Liska was very... enthusiastic about my return to the land of the living."

"Damn," Frank says, smiling, "I envy you. Mine'd be enthusiastic about my life insurance."

"Come on, man," you say, grabbing his shoulder, "don't tell me that's happening anytime soon. How have you been holding up?"

"Fine," he tells you, shrugging free and leaning back against the wall of the elevator, "I managed to not get serial killed or die in a gas explosion. I hope they fire whoever planned those gas lines."

Oh hell. Those are the cover stories, aren't they.

"Don't most serial killers target women?" you ask.

Frank laughs, "well, there's got to be one out there for fat guys in their fifties," he says, "takes all sorts to make a world, right?"

It does, but you're not sure he has any idea how many sorts there are.

"If that's what your wife does," he says, winking at you as he looks at your neck, "you'll have no trouble figuring out if she's having an affair."

"I'm still betting on Bear wrestling," Frank continues, as the elevator opens and Bernie walks in with his secretary.

"Nah," the dragon says, "Packers are taking it this year."

"I take it you managed to get some sleep, Bernie," you say.

"And I take it you got none," he says, looking at your neck.

Oh hell. It's your chance to win the office pool on the boss' sexuality.

You'd be sacrificing your own reputation to do it, but it's a setup.

>How could I? My arm kept going to sleep under your head!
>What happened with those accounts while I was gone?
>I got some. Really good sleep, too.
>Who do I need to check in with to get back up to speed?
>WRITE IN

>>2790867
>>I got some. Really good sleep, too.
>>Who do I need to check in with to get back up to speed?

>>2790867
>>I got some. Really good sleep, too.
>>Who do I need to check in with to get back up to speed?
Amusing, but unless we've got a lot of money in the pot, it's not worth it.

>>2790867
>>I got some. Really good sleep, too.

>>2790867
>I got some. Really good sleep, too.

>>2790867
>>I got some. Really good sleep, too.
>>Who do I need to check in with to get back up to speed?

>>2790867
yeah, first tell us how much money is in the pool.

>>2790867
>Now now, we don't want Liska to get jealous.
>Who do I need to check in with to get back up to speed?

>>2790867
>>I got some. Really good sleep, too.
>Who do I need to check in with to get back up to speed?

>>2790916
>>2790886
We'd probably get disqualified the moment everyone realizes we went on a double date with em last month anyway.

>>2790867
Eh, I slept for a month. I think i'm good for today.

>>2790929
not really. we made the bet before the double date, and we were the only one ballsy enough to find out the truth

>>2790867
How could I? My arm kept going to sleep under your head!

guys, we could ask him " how is Heinrich?". IT could be some sort of payback considering the mess he did yesterday.

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>>2790867
"I got some," you tell him, "really good sleep, too."

"There was kind of a party for him beating cancer," Bernie tells Frank, and his secretary, spreading his hands like a lecturer, "I think I got dragged home afterward."

'Beating it'? So that's how he's playing things.

"I'm still a bit tired from the operation and the chemo," you say, "any sleep I can get is good. Particularly in my own bed."

"And we didn't get invited?" Frank asks, crossing his arms, "I'm still going with a bear wrestling trip."

"Who do I need to check in with to get up to speed?" you ask Bernie.

"Frank," he says, as the elevator doors open, and the dragon and his secretary leave.

"I probably should have mentioned it," Frank says, as the two of you walk out together, "but, well, I kind of put one of my subordinates on it. So I sort of forgot about them."

"Who?" you ask him.

"Reynold Oliver," Frank tells you, "bright kid. He's probably in your office now."

"Thanks for the help," you say, ditching Frank as politely as you can.

Some 'bright kid' in your office? That's a recipe for disaster!

You open your office door on a rather unassuming-looking guy, shuffling papers on your desk.

And wonder if you're going to have to introduce one more person to the supernatural in these 24 hours.

"Oh," he says, looking up, "I guess you're the guy I was filling in for? I've got a couple questions on valuing some of these assets. How was the cancer?"

"Rather crablike," you tell him.

>Just get me up to speed
>We've got a table for evaluating abnormal assets. You might not have clearance for it.
>Welcome to the brave new world of gods and monsters
>You should probably forget everything you saw
>WRITE IN

>>2790972
>Just get me up to speed

>>2790972
>Just get me up to speed

>>2790972
>>We've got a table for evaluating abnormal assets. You might not have clearance for it.
>You should probably forget everything you saw
We know how much of a pain the supernatural can be, we don't need to drag another normal person into it.

>>2790972
>>Just get me up to speed

>>2790972
>>We've got a table for evaluating abnormal assets. You might not have clearance for it.

>>2790972
>Just get me up to speed

>>2790972
>Just get me up to speed
>We've got a table for evaluating abnormal assets. You might not have clearance for it.

>>2790972
>We've got a table for evaluating abnormal assets. You might not have clearance for it. Probably best for you to pretend you never saw those before a bunch of people get in trouble. I want a nice, drama free day at work right now.
>Get me up to speed. I'm sure you'll understand one day how great it feels to provide for your family.

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>>2790972
He laughs.

"Just get me up to speed," you tell him.

"Posted speed, or the one people really use?" Reynold asks, standing up.

"The one that lets me do my job," you tell him, sitting in your chair. Looks like he's been working on a laptop, and not your computer, at least.

"Well," he says, "I think we've got that greek guy almost done. Not quite sure how to value 'all who believe in me go to limbo, Hades, or the Elysian fields' in monetary terms."

Great. This has to Bernie's idea of a joke.

"We've got a table for abnormal assets," you tell the kid, "you might not have clearance for it."

"I've got," he says, with an awkward smile, "some friends in IT. There's nothing in our tables for afterlife options. Which is why the Samedi accounting is still a bit stalled."

"Tell me those are all codenames," he says, "and 'souls' are actually drugs. Or something. And we are not actually doing accounting for gods."

>Yeah, we're doing accounting for drug-runners and assassins. It's all codenames.
>Welcome to the brave new world of gods and monsters
>Kid, you're sharp. Transfer yourself to me from Frank. And then I'll tell you.
>Walk out, and pretend you never saw anything.
>WRITE IN

>>2791033
>>Kid, you're sharp. Transfer yourself to me from Frank. And then I'll tell you.

>>2791033
>>Kid, you're sharp. Transfer yourself to me from Frank. And then I'll tell you.

>>2791033
>Kid, you're sharp. Transfer yourself to me from Frank. And then I'll tell you.

>>2791033
Mixture of these:
>Kid, you're sharp. Transfer yourself to me from Frank. And then I'll tell you.
>Walk out, and pretend you never saw anything.

>Kid, you're sharp. If you are really sharp you will walk out, and pretend you never saw anything. If you are not going to do that, transfer yourself to me from Frank and then i'll tell you.

>>2791033
Eh, fuckit
>Kid, you're sharp. Transfer yourself to me from Frank. And then I'll tell you.

>>2791033
>WRITE IN
>>Yeah, we're doing accounting for folks that are serious about privacy. It's all codenames.
We won't be doing him any favors by telling him.

>>2791033
>Hand on forehead. Goddammit kid. If you can cover up your tracks you might want to do that and pretend you never saw anything. Otherwise consider possibilities like one of your bosses could consider turning you into schwarma less bothersome than figuring out if you're fired or get new job responsibilities. If you wanna stick around, get a transfer to under me so that I can lower the risk of that happening.

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>>2791033
"Kid," you say, leaning over your desk and staring him down, "I think you're sharp. But if you're really sharp, you'll walk out now. And pretend you never saw anything. Our clients value privacy. It's all codenames."

"I've seen drug deals," the idiot says, "but this stuff doesn't match. If the rabbit hole goes deeper..."

"Transfer yourself to me from Frank," you tell him, "and maybe I'll tell you."

Well, you did not expect him to have a transfer form, just waiting for your signature. And Bernie's. Frank's already signed.

"I've been working these accounts for a month," Reynold says, looking at you, "I've seen some things. So give me the red pill."

And you sign, hoping that doesn't pull him into the yarnball.

"If you're smart," you say, "you'll rip that in half, and pretend you saw nothing. Any of these guys could turn you into shawarma. Find another place, or a better department."

"Or I could stay here," he says, grinning, "and see everything. I'll be right back," he finishes, heading out the door of your office, doubtless to see your boss.

Oh Hell. This is probably Bernie's revenge on you.

But set up a month ago, as soon as you left?

Alternatively, you're just getting one of Frank's problems.

>Put your feet on the desk
>Go through the stuff the receptionist said had been delivered to your office
>Tackle the idiot in the halls, and rip the transfer paper
>Log in to your computer
>WRITE IN

>>2791092
>>Go through the stuff the receptionist said had been delivered to your office

Its not like we warned him.

>>2791092
>Go through the stuff the receptionist said had been delivered to your office

Huh, he really is like Rock.

>>2791092
>Go through the stuff the receptionist said had been delivered to your office

>>2791092
>>Go through the stuff the receptionist said had been delivered to your office
Horse, water, etc. Though I do feel sorry for him.

>>2791092
>Go through the stuff the receptionist said had been delivered to your office

>>2791092
>Go through the stuff the receptionist said had been delivered to your office

>>2791092
>Go through the deliveries
>Make your Ipad, phone, or the computer play something relaxing.

>>2791092
>>Go through the stuff the receptionist said had been delivered to your office

>>2791092
>Go through the stuff the receptionist said had been delivered to your office

>>2791092
>>Go through the stuff the receptionist said had been delivered to your office

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>>2791092
You can lead a horse to water, you think, but you can't make him drink.

Well, at least he found you, and not a wizard.

You go over to your mail pile and start sifting through it.

There's a letter there, addressed in greek letters you can barely read. You rip it open, and yeah, you can't read that either.

Another is emblazoned in Chinese characters you can't do anything but guess at. But someone bothered to have an interpreter write a translation below it: "TO THE SCRIBE WHO IS EVALUATING (SO CALLED) BARON SAMEDI'S HOLDINGS"

So you open it, and the rest is in the same style - gaudily-daubed Chinese characters with English scratched in pen below them.

"DO NOT DEAL ME FALSE," it reads, "YOU WILL DIE ONE DAY. AND I HAVE NUMEROUS TORMENTS DEVISED FOR FALSE DEALERS. DEAL WITH JUSTICE."

Chinese gods are weird.

You pull open an envelope with a Jamaican post-stamp.

"Yo," it reads, "Baron Samedi here and shit, I hear you're doing my accounts for the case against Enma. Just, like, it's chill. I'm down for whatever judgement. I mean, anything that lets me keep going with the wine, women, and song. AND THE FUCKIN' GANGA! So, thanks for taking the account. Also, don't fuck me ove~"

And that's a fountain pen scrawl, if you've ever seen one.

You're dying to see who his lawyer is.

But you hope you never have to face that court.

And you rip open the next letter. It's in greek, but with English, Latin, and hieroglyphics below it.

"DEAR RECIPIENT," it reads, "I AM MINOS, JUDGE OF THE DEAD, AND I HEAR YOU HAVE DONE ONE OF MY SONS A FAVOR."

That was rather short.

Is he talking about the time you didn't kill Angus? That seemed more like human decency than doing anyone a favor!

There's another couple of letters in greek, and you toss them aside.

You can't read them anyway.

Then Reynold comes back into your office, saying "alright, Bernie signed it! I'm with you now."

>Can you read greek?
>Welcome to this brave new world of gods and monsters
>Is your girlfriend good with guns? I could use that.
>Well, you took the red pill. Have fun - most of us had it forced down our throats.
>WRITE IN

>>2791175
>Welcome to this brave new world of gods and monsters
>Can you read greek?

>>2791175
>Welcome to this brave new world of gods and monsters
>Well, you took the red pill. Have fun - most of us had it forced down our throats.
>Can you read greek?

>>2791175
>>Well, you took the red pill. Have fun - most of us had it forced down our throats.
>Welcome to this brave new world of gods and monsters
The quickest and easiest way to prove this stuff is real if he wants proof would be to summon Freebles over; He should have plenty of experience bringing newbies into the fold, and the whole "teleporting talking ferret" thing is pretty overt.
>Can you read greek?

Girlfriend? What?

>>2791175
>Welcome to this brave new world of gods and monsters
>Can you read greek?
>Also, if you see something from either Zeus or Hera, just stick it in the very bottom of the pile, okay? They're always the longest to deal with...

>>2791175
>Well, you took the red pill. Have fun - most of us had it forced down our throats.
>Welcome to this brave new world of gods and monsters
>Can you read greek?

>>2791175
Can you read greek?

>>2791175
>Can you read greek?

>>2791175
Bernie's a Dragon, Yes those are actual gods, I wasn't fucking with you about the spreadsheet tab, I've only been in this a month, keep any ferret looking things away from your teenage relatives, and figure out if we have translators for whatever the hell these letters are saying.

>>2791175
>>Can you read greek?
>>Well, you took the red pill. Have fun - most of us had it forced down our throats.

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>>2791175
"Welcome to this brave new world," you say, putting your feet up on your desk, "and please shut the door."

He does so, saying "of gods and monsters? I do know Shakespeare. Liberal Arts minor."

"Well," you ask, "can you read greek? Hit the mailbox. Most of us had the red pill shoved down our throats, and you want it? There it is."

"I can read a bit," he says, grabbing a few greek letters, "this isn't even coinae," he tells you, shuffling through them, "they all just say 'is your daughter hot?', I think. Greek is weird."

Yeah, that's what you should have expected. He starts going through the other letters.

"Three death gods, too," you hear him mutter, and then he turns toward you, "we're really doing accounting for them?"

"Like I said," you tell Reynold, "welcome to the brave new world of gods and monsters. Oh, and we're not replying to any of those."

"I see why we're not," he tells you, "but this could all just be an elaborate prank."

Then Freebles worms his way out of your pocket and jumps onto your desk.

"Hey," he says, "I hear you work for my bro now. It would be a real shame if something happened to your..." he trails off, glancing up and down the guy, "everything. I bet your kidneys are tasty," he finishes, flexing his back at your new assistant.

"Please don't do it," you tell your ferret, "he could be useful."

"Holy shit," Reynold says, "it's actually real."

"Unfortunately, yes," you tell him, "now do you see why I told you it would be smart to get out?"

"Yeah," Reynold tells you, and then grins, "but I'm glad I'm in. What account are we starting with?"

"God," you say, "let's get Zeus off our backs."

The rest of the workday is fairly normal. Reynold is a good, hard, fast worker, and you're wondering whether Bernie sicc'd him on you as a punishment or a reward.

"I think," he finally says, "we've sewn this Greek up."

"We've certainly charted an empire for his kids to take," you tell your new assistant.

"I'd like to be a fly on the wall for those cases!" he says.

>I like you, kid, let's grab a drink
>I've got a family to get home to
>Welcome to the masquerade. You do decent work.
>I've got to talk to by boss
>WRITE IN

>>2791272
>Welcome to the masquerade. You do decent work.
>I've got to talk to my boss

>>2791272
>Welcome to the masquerade. You do decent work.
>I've got to talk to by boss

>>2791272
>>Welcome to the masquerade. You do decent work.
>Every couple of days, me and some of the more magically inclined dads of the local "Girl's Softball Team" get together for BBQ. Might as well invite you and your significant other over for it so you know what your going to deal with in this department. Friday work for you?
>I've got to talk to by boss

>>2791272
>Welcome to the masquerade. You do decent work.
>I've got to talk to by boss

>>2791272
Welcome to the masquerade. You do decent work.

>>2791272
>Welcome to the masquerade. You do decent work.
> I've got a family to get home to.

>>2791272
>I'm pretty sure he was a fly in at least one of them.
>Word of Warning, Bernie is a dragon.
>Anything else you need to know before I get home to my family?

>>2791272
>>Welcome to the masquerade. You do decent work.
>I like you, kid, let's grab a drink

It'd be nice to have another bone stock mortal to talk to.

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>>2791272
"Flies on the wall get swatted," you tell him, then stand up to shake his hand, "you do decent work. Welcome to the masquerade."

"This is really not what I expected," Reynold says, shaking your hand, "from the mythical hardass accountant who fought off cancer in a month. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"They're calling my 'the mythical hardass'?" you ask him.

"With the rest of the context," he tells you, "you have no idea how much chaff I've gotten for taking your accounts. They thought it might kill me."

"You're not dead yet," you say, "and, every so often, I hold a BBQ for my daughter's softball team. You might want to show. And see what's really going on."

"You've got my number," Reynold says, bumping his phone against the one in your pocket, "can I bring a plus one?"

"Plus whatever," you tell him, and he laughs, "I've got to talk to my boss."

"Good luck," he says, turning away from you, "I've heard he's a real dragon," and he walks out of your office.

Yeah, 'real dragon' alright.

You steel yourself, and march to Bernie's office.

"Good evening, Mr. Bond," the dragon says, after you open the door, "to what do I owe this entirely expected pleasure?"

>I'm here about that offer you made last night
>You appear to have given me an assistant
>Zeus is sending me harassing letters
>You need a white cat to really pull that one off
>WRITE IN

>>2791337
>I'm here about that offer you made last night
>You need a white cat to really pull that one off or is that Heinrich's job?

>>2791337
>You need a white cat to really pull that one off, you got the timing down perfectly though.

>>2791337
>>You need a white cat to really pull that one off
>You appear to have given me an assistant
We already gave him our answer: we're not mercs.

>>2791358
>"can I bring a plus one?"
You're welcome to, but do you really want to bring more people into this?

>>2791337
>You need a white cat to really pull that one off. Maybe Heinrich with a pair of fuzzy ears?
>I seem to have a new Assistant
>I'm also a little annoyed at the weird threats some of these letters seem to have but I guess it's the usual magic thing so I'm getting used to ignoring that. Zeus has also been sending me weird let- I have the use the phone for a moment. Melon,Zeus seems to be sending tons of creepy letters asking if you're hot. I swear i'm not doing overprotective dad things here, just let your mother/friends know, beware incase he tries to look like Shelby, and I'll ask Kelly and W if they can Zeus trap the house.
>So uh...it wouldn't inconvenience you if a client did something stupid and died in the near future would it?
>Since you say your proposal is so interesting to everyone else let me know what it is. They can make their own choices after I let them know as you pointed out yesterday.

>>2791337
>You appear to have given me an assistant
>Zeus is sending me harassing letters

>>2791337

>You appear to have given me an assistant
>Zeus is sending me harassing letters

>>2791337
>You appear to have given me an assistant
>You need a white cat to really pull that one off

>>2791337
>>2791360
please this.

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>>2791337
"You've got the timing down," you say, stepping in his office and closing the door behind you, "but you really need a white cat to pull that one off."

"I never liked cats," Bernie tell you, "honestly, they seem like competition."

"Get Heinrich to put on a set of fuzzy ears," you tell him, "that could work."

"It would also get me laughed out of everywhere I tried it," the dragon says, "but, really, why did you come to my office?"

You hesitate.

"Mr. Bond," Bernie says, a grin on his face, "we can do the laser-and-table thing, if that's what you're into."

Yeah, he's fucking with you.

He's GOT to be fucking with you.

"That was Goldfinger," you tell him, "and you know it."

"True, but really," Bernie says, leaning back in his chair, "why did you come here? Taking me up on that offer?"

"You appear to have given me an assistant," you tell the dragon, "and I feel like I've been shoved into initiating him into your supernatural world. Railroaded, even."

"I trust you gave him a decent welcome," Bernie says, grinning, "and I assigned him to your accounts because I thought he might be able to take it. And he can read Greek."

"Enough to tell me Zeus is sending harassing letters," you tell the dragon.

"Just be glad you're not dealing with Ishtar or Venus," Bernie says, with a twitch of his eye.

Yeah, given what you've read, they're both earth-destroyingly nuts.

"Would you," you say, "very hypothetically, have a problem with a client doing something stupid and getting wrecked in the process?"

"Fucking KILL THEM, I don't care!" Bernie says, then gives a grin that displays a number of very draconic teeth, "don't do it on the clock, though," he says, eyeing you with one red slit-eye, "I've got a professional reputation to maintain."

Yeah, you're really seeing the princess/prince-eating monster behind his eyes.

>Give me that proposal you had. I might talk it over with my crew. They get to make their own choices.
>That's, uh, real professional
>Liska and I can take both Ishtar and Venus.
>"Cool." And you nod.
>WRITE IN

>>2791482
>I might see about Zeus, once I can figure out how to keep him from doing that golden rain bullshit. Pretty sure he sent me a couple of letters asking me about Marion's relationship status.
>Give me that proposal you had. I might talk it over with my crew. They get to make their own choices.

>>2791482
>>Give me that proposal you had. I might talk it over with my crew. They get to make their own choices.

>>2791482
backing this >>2791488

>>2791482
>>That's, uh, real professional
>"Cool." And you nod.
Still not mercs. And last time we fought something, we wound up in a coma for a month.

>>2791482
>>"Cool." And you nod.

>>2791482
>>That's, uh, real professional
We are not considering that job. Our group exists solely to find a way to fix magical girls. We are not for hire.

>>2791482
>>That's, uh, real professional
>>"Cool." And you nod.

>>2791488
If Melon was stronger due to altering the contract he would get fucked in the way he didn't want to be.
>>2791494
This might be his weird way of "helping." He's the closest thing to "the forces of good" around here as disturbing as that seems. This might legitimately have to do with something that helps break the rats.
>>2791482
>Give me that proposal you had. I might talk it over with my crew. They get to make their own choices.

>>2791508
>This might legitimately have to do with something that helps break the rats.
Pretty strongly doubt that. He's well aware of what we're after; he would have just told us whatever it was and we'd be all over it.

And it's not like we have or need money for the group.

>>2791512
Like how he and everyone else bothers actually stating their intentions clearly in this quest?

>>2791516
Bernie plays games when he wants something from us. If he was giving something to us, we've shown we don't like beating around the bush, and he'd be better off just being straight with us.

I suspect this job is something he doesn't want connected to himself for whatever reason.

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>>2791482
"Cool," you say, rising from your chair, and you nod at him, "that's, uh, real professional."

"Of course," Bernie tells you, winking, "it's very professional. I just do accounting, not life insurance," he says with an awful grin, "sometimes terrible things happen to people. I do trust you enjoy your new assistant?"

He DID plan that!

"He does decent work," you tell the dragon, "and I don't want him dragged into this."

"I won't drag him in," Bernie tells you, "but I don't know what he might do outside work hours."

"Pet your white cat," you bite at the dragon, before leaving his office, and slamming the door behind you.

In the elevator, it all seems... well, maybe you fucked it up. Maybe Bernie fucked it up. Maybe things ended up ok.

You really don't know.

"You're still here?" Reynold asks, as you step out into the elevator, "my car won't start. I've been waiting for a jump."

Yeah, this was all planned. You can almost see the dragon's clawprints on it all.

How do you get out of the plan?

>Call a towing service, Bernie's fucking with me. Don't get caught up in it.
>I can jump you, but Bernie's a thorough lizard
>Fuck it, let's walk to a bar.
>Fuck it, let's walk to a bar and grab my crew.
>WRITE IN

>>2791482
>"Cool." And you nod.

>>2791534
>>Call a towing service, Bernie's fucking with me. Don't get caught up in it.
If Bernie continues to cause issues indirectly, just have Freebles give him a lift back to his house or something.

Bernie isn't a dragon at this point, he's just a troll.

>>2791534
>Fuck it, let's walk to a bar and grab my crew.

>>2791534
>>Call a towing service, Bernie's fucking with me. Don't get caught up in it.
There's just no reason to drag the poor guy into this. He's got no stake like we do, and nothing to gain.

>>2791541
20:39 - 20:55ish Voting period

God, I hate writing dragons.

>>2791524
Eh, At least some of our group are grown adults capable of not doing something suicidal.
>>2791534
>Probably Bernie machinations again. Anything weird happened around you recently? Do you have a teenage sister or were you bitten by a wolf? I'm sure whatever he's thinking will annoy the shit out of me.
>Make that phone call to Melon, Liska and Kelly about Zeus sending creepy letters for the last month.
>It retroactively occurs to me that we just left our office that probably had an actual paper trail of where the rats are stealing souls from.

>>2791550
>God, I hate writing dragons.
He's turning out to be a very annoying character. I'm beginning to see why the St. George protocol is a thing.

>>2791534

>Call a towing service, Bernie's fucking with me. Don't get caught up in it.

Playing devil's advocate for a while here. Put yourselves in Bernie's position; This is the most interesting thing that might have happened to him in decades if not centuries.
You know what? Maybe we should introduce him to EVE online. that might get his attention off us.

>>2791555
>He's turning out to be a very annoying character.
When he was the kinda scary neutral guy, it was nice to have him around. But as we've grown in power, he's gotten more and more annoying. It's almost like needling us is his way at getting back at us for increasing our powerbase.

>>2791559
>dragon accountant playing eve
We would never see him again.

>>2791567
Isn't that great? We would make a NEET out of a mighty dragon. A great acomplishment if you ask me

>>2791579
It's all fun and games until some dude robs Bernie's bank.

>>2791582
I have had the worst idea.
What would Bernie's version of the Navy Seals copypasta look like? Not even a competent one, just the same sort of autistic spaghetti scaled to dragon levels.