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THE RULES: https://pastebin.com/CEtNkNVg

Days Between: https://pastebin.com/wZVuHJf1

Days past: https://pastebin.com/1YKiXsbk

Misc Notes: https://pastebin.com/6yj3uZXj

Past thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/3066975/

They say all you need is love, but you've found that fuel cans don't go anywhere on their own.
Your name isn't Five. You aren't a legal therapist. You got a man to whistle his way out of suicide
and ended up working for the Yakuza. Which is actually really nice, since most people here are
messed up enough to be interesting.

So you ended up in the Trashcan, a huge hotel with a forbidden path- which leads to your office.
This part is eternally under construction. It harbors shady characters- like your boss, Daddy.

The clan that took you, Araita, is but one of the branches of the fearsome Dojin-kai. This means
you get to scratch the bottom of the barrel: loansharks, drugdealers, arms dealers, systems
analysts- and crazy maids, so it seems.

Arms folded and back bent like a chicken, Two has been silently staring at you for ten seconds
already. Standing. Turning around a page in your report, you've decided not to humor her. You take
a sip from your cold tea, somehow hoping it had warmed up over alien circumstances.

"Fiveeee....?" the voice hints.

You fail to stop yourself from glancing at the maid, who's markedly pouting. You decide
changing tactics is just natural and make eye contact.

"I'm not going," you say. "End of story."

Two gasps at your blasphemy.

"But it's Christmas!" she bursts, part excited, part offended. "There's cake and chocolate and all the
good stuff!"

"I can eat it just fine," you say, "here."

Two puffs a cheek. "But you would be all alone."

"Yes."

"And your present would be stolen," she adds.

You grin your shark teeth. "What else could I want? I have all I need here."

Two covers her mouth. "You mean me?"

"Mentally ill subjects. So yes."

Two squints her golden eyes. "I don't know how to feel about that."

"How about just feeling what you feel?" you suggest.

And Two shrugs. Naturally. The maid, a short woman like you, had been assigned by Daddy to
look after you- a task she seems to take too seriously. She's blonde, long haired, wears
glasses, a short, white duster, and does anything anyone ever asks of her. Except not bother you.
Two lacks awareness of her own intentions, so she pleases everyone hopping for love.

"Say, Two," you ask, resting both elbows over your desk, "What is Christmas all about?"

Suddenly smiling, Two joins both hands under her chin. "Joining everyone and partying!"

"I'm sure even you is aware it's the birth of Jesus Christ."

"Even you," she repeats, twisting her lips. "Of course I do."

"What else do you know about it?" you ask the maid.

Who rolls her eyes- and shrugs and smiles.

"It's happy times," she almost shouts, making you grimace. "And we are celebrating we are all
together. With you."

Two finally breaks off her victory pose and looks at you with glimmering eyes. Unwillingly, you sigh.

"Just because everyone says so?" you ask.

Two squints at the ceiling and then, smiling widely, rabidly nods at you.

>"God Dammit Fine."
>"I'd rather just smoke this tree."

>>3129745
>"God Dammit Fine."

>>3129745
God dammit fine.

>>3129790
>>3129849

"Fine. I'm going," you say, going back to your papers. "Now go away."

Two giggles and opens the door, only to find there's no way out. You perk up from your pages:
one of Daddy's bodyguards, Bueno, is at the entrance. The man barely fits there.

"Daddy wants talk," he spills.

You stand and walk past a frowning Two into the hallway.

---------------------:*0---------------------

The room is completely dark, except for the few rays of sunlight that make it past the sealed
windows.

"Simply put, unless Biggy was acting all this time, which would mean this is Holliwood," you state, "I
recommend permament medication for the foreseen future."

The burning dot in the dark waltz around as if dancing. You can't help but feel, a times, that it's
the tip of the cigar that is Daddy, and not the man itself. It is all you see of him, after all.

"I see," the ragged voice says. "Five, do you think men can be fixed?"

"Not this one," you say, shaking your head. "Biggy has lost all trail back to empaty. This might sound
like an exaggeration until you consider he had debtors drink a glass of water for every life lost
clearing Mega Man 2."

"Oh," you hear Daddy say.

You assume he scratched his head.

"What is a 'megaman', Five?" he wonders.

"'Megaman' is a videogame," you explain. "Let's just say Biggy had them drink for every time they
failed to raise a five feet card castle."

"Oh."

"Is there anything else?"

The darkness seems to ponder for a bit.

"I'm interested in these 'videos games' as you call them," the ragged voice says. "Would you mind
explaning them to me later?"

You shrug.

"That would be all," Daddy says. "Have a merry Christmas, Five."

You turn towards the two massive bodyguards. They lead you out of the room.

When he opens the door to your office, Marcus finds you staring at Two's new little tree,
wondering how to best fuck it up so she gets the point. Like the first time, the man simply drops
himself on the chair.

"You live," you say.

"For now."

"Huh." You grin. "Still afraid of me."

To your surprise, the womanizer shakes his head. Tall, black hair, almost no beard: Marcus is a good
looking loanshark who's just back from the coma you sent him to.

"It's Four," he rumbles. "I need you on him."

"Huh. So, Four," you say, your eyes drifting away. "Not the first time I hear about it, but I know
nothing but the name."

"Four is kobun," Marcus says, "and I'm under him. Look, just do your magic and don't kill him. Please."

You notice Marcus is sweating.

"So, why did Daddy sent you?" you inquire.

"No." Marcus said the word slowly.

You lift an eyebrow.

"I'm on my own. Fucks sake, Five. I mean, come on," Marcus says, "you almost killed me."

"So?"

"Will you?" Marcus asks.

>???

lol sry guys, racist friend to granny came
also im on a tablet
fuckinntactile screen mang

>>3130188
Sure.

>>3130188
Ask for more information before you make a decision.

>>3130230
"I don't see why wouldn't I," you say, shark-grinning.

>>3130234
"-if it makes sense."

Marcus stares bleakly.

"Why the fuck wouldn't it?" he rumbles.

You shrug flamboyiantly. "There's no way I'd know yet. Meaning, a few question are in order."

"Fucking hell," Marcus mutters.

>???

>>3130275
He said he's here on his own. Which means he must have seen some symptoms dire enough to cause him to come back to you. Spill.

>>3130296
"Sooo," you start, "what's wrong with Four?"

"What's not?"

"Well, I won't know," you consider, "unless you get a bit more specific."

"Hey, just wait and see, it's-"

You smile a little happy smile at Marcus.

"Give me some symptoms," you offer, "or get the fuck out of my office."

Staring at the floor, Marcus bites his lips.

"Hell," he says. "I don't even know where to start."

"So that bad," you say, eyebrows up.

He nods. "That bad. Also fuck you."

You scratch your chin.

Marcus finally looks at you in the eyes. "Look, Four is a smart motherfucker. He has quirks, but
the man keeps saving my ass- and the asses of the whole squad. But lately, he's unbearable. Un
fucking-bearable, I tell you, Five. We do as he says or he throws a shit-fit and screams. That's what
we always do, but lately he's been asking for some seriously weird shit."

"Shit like?"

"He got the russian guy to read a kids book to a guy while we shocked his balls. Oh, and last time.
The motherfucker sat on me while we were having dinner. It killed the conversation. I had to
guess where the fuck my dish was with the fork."

"Huh," you add, blinking fast. "Interesting."

"Then he was crying and had Biggy wear a bunny suit and bake cookies. I don't even know where he
got the suit, but he told us to shove all those cookies down someone's ass and we did, all while
singing opera."

"What the fuck," you consider.

>???

>>3130388
He said 'lately'. Ask him when it started getting worse, and if anything else of note happened around then.

On a another note for later, do we actually have any authority to take clients in this way, on the general recommendation of others? I'd assumed that they had to either walk in of their own volition or be sent to us specifically by someone who actually has authority over them (like Daddy). And that we aren't allowed to simply walk up to someone and tell them 'you have a problem, come to my office'.

>>3130404
off-topic, ill try to fix my pc for a while so go have fun somewhere else

so far, five has made daddy aware of everything she did. hes the contractor, after all, and touching the yakuzas brains without permission doesnt seem that wise
its implied that she cant fuck around, since daddy was the one sending her patients all along
but who knows
sometimes, rules are just starting points

>>3130404
"How come I wasn't aware of this man?" you wonder out loud, reeling back in awe.

Marcus sighs. Loudly.

"We have a therapist, alright?" he says. "That means Daddy wants us sane. Four isn't sane- but
he is smart. If word got out, Four would be fucked. And so would we."

"When did it got this bad? Did anything happen that could trigger this?"

"Yeah," Marcus blurts out, angry. "Shit did happen. You see, we get a lot of shit lately. It all goes
wrong when they send us somewhere. Last time they sent us to check on an abbandoned church
to use as checkpoint, but there were guys there already and we almost got shot. Four talked it out
and convinced the guys we did LARP. We all had to act it out there, but I almost pulled my gun
before he talked."

Marcus whips out a cigarette and meets your soft glare.

"Six a day," you say.

He nods and lits it. "Four was mad as fuck when we got back. He kicked everything, even the pizza
boy. From then on, it went downhill. And I'm scared out or my ass that his autism goes critical
like a power plant."

"Huh. Is that why you depend on him? Because he lies?"

"Ten times better than I fool the chicks," Marcus says.

>???

>>3130607
Be upfront with him about your lack of authority; it sets a bad precedent if you go over people's heads to order someone into your office, not to mention it could get you in direct trouble with Daddy.

As I see it, there are two options.

One: Marcus takes his observations to someone with authority over Four and gets them to order Four in for a consultation. If necessary, we personally go with him and back him up with how we agree that the man almost definitely has some kind of unresolved mental issue. Or else, he convinces Four himself to come in here of his own accord. Naturally, this puts Marcus in the line of fire; he himself could likely get in trouble if he's not sufficiently convincing.

Two: We continue interviewing Marcus, and attempt to get a diagnosis from that alone. From there, we advise Marcus on actions he can take to indirectly help his superior. This has the downside of being more susceptible to misdiagnosis, and that an indirect treatment will be less effective than a direct one.

Which would Marcus prefer?

>>3130638
I'm pretty sure 5 can just ask him to come in. No need to be so formal.

>>3130638
Closing your eyes is how you tell people to shut up and let you think. It does not always work;
sometimes they tap you and ask if you are sleepy. Yet Marcus is a veteran, and he takes the hint until
you look at him again.

"Marcus," you start, "I won't do anything without Daddy knowing. I'm new here. I don't have the
room yet."

"I know. Fuck." Marcus grabs his head.

"I'm not even a part of the family per se," you resume. "I'm off the hierarchy. Like a consultant."

"Shit. Yeah."

You offer him an open palm.

"This could go two ways," you say. "We either get a green light or we figure his madness out with
what we have."

Marcus chortles, then shakes his head.

"Fucking hell, Five, if I could piece it together I wouldnt be beating deadbeats up dressed like
Spongebob. He even makes me do that shit-ass laugh."

"That's the point," you butt in. "I can help you with that."

"I dunno, Five. Looks like a long shot."

"I can see why," you admit.

You both linger in silence. It's almost like a hangover from talking about Four.

"Tea?" you offer.

Marcus looks at you squinting. "Do I look like an english bitch, Five? Cause I don't want the french
to fuck me."

But you are already standing. "Fuck that, drink tea with me. Come on. You'll get extra sugar."

Marcus chuckles. "You cold bitch. Fine."

You turn towards the little tea desk and turn on the electric pot.

"Besides, Two is french," you add. "It can't be that bad."

"You say that cause you want to fuck her," he states.

"Just so you know, there's plenty other things you can do with other human being," you say, softly,
"like sending them to lunatics that stuff cookies up your ass. I hope at least those were shaped
like trees."

The little bell rings and the water is ready. You pour the water into the cups, which turns red as
steam rises. It clouds your glasses, which makes you grumble. After cleaning them with your
sleeve, you place the first cup in front of Marcus.

"Extra sugar, as promised," you say. "Don't get greedy."

"Fuckface, this isnt the sugar that should worry you," he grumbles, but drinks anyway.

You follow suit. This little ritual of yours is not without purpose. Relaxed people aren't as prone
to watch their tongues, so you get to learn a lot from people who think you don't really care. Even
though you really do.

"So Daddy has to know, then," Marcus says. "And if he does, it's game over."

"What makes you so sure of that?" you ask.

Marcus swallows all that sugar at once.

"Four is a fuckup, a big time asshat. There's no way Daddy will let him stay if he learns of his shit.
And we need him. Fucking hell, Five, I hate every bone of the fucker but I need him hard. I can't talk
like him. I'm an asshole, just like the rest. An asshole very afraid of the world's guiness autism
meltdown."

He grabs your tea and downs it too.

"Tell Daddy on us and I'll spent Christmas baking cookies," Marcus warns, calmly. "And a cake
shaped like Britain."

You chuckle.

>???

>>3130804
No need to worry.

>>3130804
So he doesn't think he has enough info to help us make a judgement without talking to Four, and he doesn't want to get Four in trouble by talking to Daddy.

Well, the last option is for him to convince Four himself to come in.

I suppose Five could also go talk to the man in an unofficial, non-professional capacity and try to give him some general tips on how to conduct himself, but I doubt that'd go well at all.

But hardly anyone reacts well to being told 'you have a problem' by a total stranger, so I doubt attempting to order Four in would work here, even if Five did have some modicum of authority.

guuys i got a keyboaaard
>>3130826
"No need to worry, Marcus," you say slowly. "I'm nothing without trust. That's my little secret. My
kriptonite."

Yet Marcus takes the tea from you again. "Well then you are fucked. Everyone is afraid of you
after Wolf."

"That was a genuine failure," you say, just barely smiling. "What I can't afford is for you lot to think
it was intentional."

"So being shit at your job is okay as long as you are doing your best for your friends, right?"

You simply keep up the tiny smile and glare at Marcus until he looks away.

>>3130901
You get back your tea cup.

"Kingsman or not, I can't help you there, anyway," you state, filling your tea again. "Well, there is a
way. Get Four to come here on his own. That way, I was just 'adapting to circumstances' so to
speak."

"Yeah," Marcus says. "No," he says, then frowns.

"So, why not?"

"Cause Four is too sensitive, the fuckhead," Marcus rumbles. "He'll get mad, and he'll kick shit,
and he'll scream that nobody understands him."

You shrug. "Sell me to him. Tell him it's not for therapy. That I read a book he does or something
like that."

Marcus ponders about this.

"Right," he says. "You can't be blamed that way. Great. I just have to get him here."

"Aditionally, I can approach him on my own," you say, "out of personal interest. We are bending the
rules until they break here, but that's as far as I'm willing to go."

Marcus slams the tea cup into the table (which startles you heavy) and smirks with all his teeth
as he shakes his head.

"Marcus," you warn, "don't ever do that again."

"Five. Four is a ticking bomb," he says, "a Tsar nuke of autismo waiting to happen. He's mad at
Daddy. He's mad at us all. He has a plan."

"A plan," you mumble. "Huh."

"I don't know what the fuck he's planning," he rumbles, "but we've been doing weird shit lately. I
can't piece it together. He sends one of us here, the other one there. It's a plan. There's something
going on."

"And you want me to stop it," you say.

"Yes. Fuck. Yes," Marcus yells, grabbing his head.

"I see. Marcus, do I look like a fucking hero?" you ask, politely.

"You look like a hobbit, and look how they go."

"I'll meet Four on my own," you state, firmly, "if you fail to get him here."

You point at Two's tiny tree. Marcus turns to look at it.

"After all, it's Christmas," you say, "and what better way to spend it than chatting with lunatics."

Marcus turns to you. "So what do I tell him? How do I get this fuck to come here?"

>???

>>3131345
Tell him his subordinates are worried or the lie. First one us better, imo.

>>3131462
nigga be a specific nigga

>>3131485
His subordinates are worried about him. Get them to convince him to come in.

>>3131493
"Just tell him you all are worried about him," you say. "Make him feel liked."

Marcus grimaces.

"That won't work at all," he states, with finality.

"Won't it," you ask, "or are you worried about your cold macho image?"

"Both. Holy hell Five, you don't get this guy at all," he says, teeth quenched.

"Enlighten me, Marcus."

Marcus waves his hands around, as if stuck between shrugging and gesturing.

"I can't", he spills. "I don't get him either."

You pout your lips at him.

"Then what, Marcus?" you say. "Why wouldn't that work?"

"Fuck. Let me think."

This time, you keep the newly filled tea cup between your arms. He wouldn't dare.

"This one time," Marcus perks up, "Four had Sergei dress a guy like Marty from that movie so
we beat him up. And it was because he said Four was weird. I had to wear a fucking white wig and
tell the guy I was sending him 'back to the future.'"

Marcus points at you repeatedly for some reason.

"Four is weird," he points out, "but he doesn't like it when someone tells him."

"Huh."

"I wish it was that easy," Marcus admits.

>???

>>3131518
Even if you get everyone to tell him? Might be time to take it to the boss.

merry christmas guys
cant post now cuz family
go have a drink
and dont worry for a while

>>3131518
seems like 4 is a control freak of sorts. And Marcus has the right of it when he says 4 is autistic as fuck. we’ll have to make 4 convinced to go to see 5, that if he wants to go about his business without getting unsettled about his precious plan, he needs to make sure that his headcase is certified by five as “ not crazy”. by that logic, Four will think that him going to see 5 of his own volition and not on daddy’s orders will make him “not crazy”. in essence, comvince 4 through his own ego that he ain’t secure unless he has all the rogue elements down pat and say that 5 is a “Rogue element”. tgat will set off his autistic control freak tendencies

>>3131518
if he is that autistic and that big of a control freak, then go with his twisted control freak logic. you know his habits and tendencies when he’s off the rails, you can guide that crazy train straight to my office

>>3131523

"It never is," you tell the fucker. "Going straight to Daddy would be easiest thing."

Marcus doesn't even glare at you.

"You are asking for my skin, Marcus," you tell him. "By taking care of Four on my own, I'm risking my
job."

He goes for the cup between your arms- but you catch his wrist on the way out. Marcus studies
your nimble, slender fingers with his lips curled.

>>3132062
"Unless, of course, Four wanted in on his own," you muse.

Marcus lets go of the cup, and you of his arm. "We already said that."

"Yup. I know." You lean back on your chair, arms behind your head, leaving the tea cup fully
exposed. "We also just said Four doesn't like it when someone calls him crazy."

"I said that," Marcus adds.

"Four seems like a control freak of sorts. Isn't he?"

Marcus curls his lips and looks at the ceiling- which is, surprisingly, free of smoke. "No."

"No?"

"No," Marcus answers. "That's one messy man."

"Huh. At any rate, Four has a plan. We can fuck with that," you say, now staring at the ceiling. "Tell
him a little white lie, that I'm marking everyone for Daddy. 'Crazy' and 'Not crazy'. Four hates being
called nut-nuts, so he'll think of this as a chance to get a seal of approval."

"Think he'll take the chance of being a certified crazy?" Marcus asks.

"If it can't be helped."

Marcus looks away, his mouth gaping. "What if he blows up before any of that?" he asks.

"Just tell him Daddy wants him here," you consider. "If he asks Daddy, I can wash my hands
and blame you."

"Cool," Marcus says.

"Freak or not, he won't want any rogue elements if he's working that hard on 'that," you resume,
gently biting on a finger, "whatever 'that' is. He won't want a label; we'll play with that."

Marcus stands, ignores your tea, and leaves the room.

----------------------------:o-------------------------------

It's Christmas Eve. In four hours, you'll get to watch fireworks rising from the beach. Two said
as much, at least.

You, of course, are still in your office, staring out of the window, the only part not buried under two
layers of acoustic panels. And through its dark outside, plenty of lights come from the beach.
There's activity.

Yet you promised Two you'd come down to await the fireworks with the rest of them. That is why
you don't understand why you can see her reflection on the window.

"It's three hours until then," you grumble. "Three hours, Two."

"Awww, but it's never too early to make friends," Two says, her reflection shaking her hips
sideways. "Let's go!"

"Three hours," you demand.

"Awwwww." Two closes the door behind her. You continue to gaze at the beach, and the flickering
lights of cellphones. Then a voice speaks. "One hour!" it says.

You roll your eyes as you curse in silence. You never had a mother. You aren't ready for this.

------------

And one hour went like wind until you found yourself following Two across the dark hallways.
The tiny flickering lights on both walls barely help your sight. You can only tell the maid apart from
the dark, vaguely, because she's helping herself with a flashlight. It's like walking through a
dungeon- a sky dungeon. You bump into her.

"What?" you ask.

Two giggles. "Nothing!"

You consider biting her neck, but odds are she'd like that. Besides, that wouldn't be professional.
So you just follow her in silence. Then you bump into her again.

"Two," you say, softly, sweetly, "why are you stopping?"

"Sorry! Sorry!" she winces, muffling her giggles.

This time, you gain some distance from her. Two slows down and you do too, then she speeds up
and you catch up. When she turns a corner, you wait. When she stops, you stop at once.

"Two," you warn.

"Here!"

Two releases light into the dark as she opens the door. You can finally see her clearly; her cheeks
red, the maid is looking away.

"Next time," you suggest, "try crouching so I trip over you."

Two laughs, loudly. "So you want me to do that."

You just walk into the room.

'Yakuza Christmas Party' feels like a very fitting name for an Adam Sandler movie. And yet, you
are dissapointed. It's a wide room, and there's much more people than you expected- all men, all
wearing suits.

"Huh," you let out, as Two walks past you.

"Interesting?" she says.

"Big," you admit.

And you have a point; there's a second floor. You are cut from your musings by a pat in the
shoulder.

"But look who came," he says, and it's Biggy.

You glance at your shoulder. "You are going to bury me like a screw with that hand," you say.

Biggy laughs, then pats you two more times. As he walks away, you notice there must be at least
thirty people in this room, which seems to act like an inner bar of sorts. Glancing up, you notice the
sky. The ceiling is made out of glass. Glancing at the side, Two.

"Are you hungry? Do you want somethingtodrink?" she asks, the words piling up.

"Yes," you ask, politely shark-smiling. "Bring me liquids."

Two blinks twice at you, then laughs, then goes her way. On your own, you just stand at the side
and study the rest of the room. There's Marcus, the drunkard, chatting up with Sergei, the russian
prude. There's Rini, the diaper wearer, doing heavy gestures at Jimmy, biggest of men. There's
Abraham, the small man, standing on his own, looking at the floor. And then you find Sugar's
massive afro- and the black man points at you.

"Fuck," you mutter.

Sugar dances his way up to you.

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn!" he bellows, pointing at you with both fingers. You sigh silently.

"Hello there, Alfred," you attempt.

"Ayayay dis nigga outta de cave! It feedin! It lookin fo bad little kids to steal!"

"Yes," you say, grinning.

"Who you gonna eat?" Sugar asks, genuinely interested.

You tilt your head sideways, over and over. "I could finally know why they call you Sugar."

Sugar laughs, his whole mouth open. You realize his teeth are perfectly white and orderly.

"How's that debt going?" you wonder. "Is Tupac going to make it?"

"Daaam bitch, 2Pac already made it," Sugar bellows, confused. "He eternal. I need ta talk to
you y'know."

"Sure-"

From the corner of your eye, you notice Marcus coming.

"-in a while," you finish.

Marcus whispers in your ear. "He's at the balcony."

You squint at him, but Macus leaves. You turn to Sugar.

"Go dance or something," you say. "Life calls."

"Life calls," Sugar repeats, then smiles. "Dam nigga, dat deep."

You shake your head- yet reconsider.

>Go to the balcony.
>Stay with Sugar.

>>3132965
>to the balcony
And our target is here
>grab a platter of food and punch. before heading up.

>>3132965
>Go to the balcony.
Ever the workaholic.

>>3132976
>>3133007

"Yeah, life calls," you repeat, absent-mindedly.

You walk past Sugar, just noticing how much light his hair blocked. Marcus had hyped Four so much
that you can't help but feel naked. Well, you never feel ready anyway. That's the thing. Messing with
the Yakuza is how you build your confidence, so if you take this as practice you can go easy. You
grab one of the plastic dishes from the table, bury it under various types of cheese, a glass of wine,
then walk past the suits into the balcony.

Because anyway, nothing could have prepared you for this.

The single lone figure standing in front of the railing glimmers with the moon light. He's tall; like
a bald Sugar. Your mouth gaping as if angry, you try to swallow the fact that Four wears a round,
medieval helmet with a visor along steel gauntlets over black gloves- with the full tuxedo. Your single
moment of hesitation makes you grumble against yourself, so you push yourself towards him. It
turns to you before you get there.

"My, my," the living armor says. "Another lonely soul."

Winking softly, you lift the glass at him then lean against the railing. You rest the plastic dish over it,
hoping your don't forget later and send it overboard. For a while, none of you talk.

"So, what kind of war are you fighting?" you ask, almost giddy.

Roughly, Four stretches his iron hand towards the moon, grabbing it.

"The war inside," he says, not looking at you.

"Then why the armor?" you ask.

Four closes the hand towards his chest, as if ripping the moon from the sky. "To fight only one."

...You realize there's a real chance he doesn't know you are Five.

>???

>>3133049
>what is your holy order, Crusader?
play along with his LARP fantasy. if his current theme is a crusading teitonic knight, then Roleplay yourself as a nun/cleric/priestess.
>The festivities are in full swing and yet you keep needless vigilance, may i as why o holy warrior?
>How long have you been on this crusade of yours holy warrior?
>What is your name and title?

>>3133187
>>The festivities are in full swing and yet you keep needless vigilance, may i as why o holy warrior?

>>3133049
Why come to this party if you intend to remain here alone?

>>3133187

You cover your mouth as you smirk like a lion smelling hyenas- then use that very mouth to
gesture into his (small) field of vision.

>>3133187

5: "The festivities are full swing and yet, oh, you keep needless vigilance."

(Four turns at you with the eternal expression of his helmet. He finds you posing like a priest.)

5: "May I ask as to why, oh holy knight?"

(Hand of steel on his chest, Four gestures with the other arm.)

4: "OH... such noble voice! OH, fair maiden with voice of milk, where had you been?"

(You cringe. Four, however clearly, doesn't.)

4: "Vigilance is forever for the man with demons inside. The struggle never ends, but
nobody sees the fight. That..."

(He bows towards you, extending an open palm.)

4: "...is why I am alone."

(You look at his open hand as if it had insulted spit in Freud's grave, yet take it just before it's too
late.)

>>3133222
5: "Then why come here, oh brave soul that fights? Where the lights dazzle, the food haunts,
and the voices never end?"

(Very gently, Four drags you by the hand all across the balcony- which is longer than you thought.
From there, you gaze into the beach: the fireworks should blow any minute now.)

4: "Such is the duty of a gentlemen, m'lady. My presence is required for the festivities, but my
heart isn't here so all I can offer is my flesh."

5: "Have you no squire? No fair maiden of your own?"

(Four spins towards you, a very well executed flourish.)

4: "Now I do."

>???

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>>3133187
also

>>3133295
man wheres the transparent

>>3133295
darn you. I guess I’ll have to think about my questions more carefully

>>3133291
Deflect the praise - if we seem fair, it is perhaps because this party allows us to forget ourself and our worries for a while (a barefaced lie) - and ask of himself in turn - he instead carries his cross even here; will he not share his thoughts with a willing listener?

>>3133291
well shoot, we’re trying to role play as a nun/confessor of the church and 4 is redirecting us into the squire role.
Deflect the praise as best you can as a maiden would. Put up the act of being embarrassed/flustered as part of the the act. We’re trying to work towards getting a confession from the knight.
> “I am not worthy of such a role, to fly under your banner as a squire for a simple nun such as I Sir...?”

>>3133350
I think he was referring to the 'fair maiden' part, given his courtly demeanor towards us, though I suppose it could be either, or both.

(Taken aback by Four's fixed "stare", Five gives herself to fall place- while Four holds her hand.)

>>3133319

5: "If I may seem fair, then it's the party that it's to blame."

4: "Hmp! Would you say?"

(You both turn towards the yakuzas inside. Marcus is laughing too loudly and Biggy is
spinning Abraham in the air. You glance at Four: the helmet's fixed in that direction.)

4: "I find it so... simple."

5: "Vulgar?"

4: "I'm glad we share the symphony."

("The symphony", you mumble. You perk up.)

5: "Perhaps some mercy is in order, my liege?"

4: "Ooh?"

(You point at them.)

5: "It is almost duty, in party, to forget oneself and enjoy the feast. Such warm moments
in life don't come easy. And spoiling such a rainbow would be no less than crime, would you
say?"

4: "Oh... such wise words! But- such a moment is not theirs- but mine with you."

>>3133350
(You force yourself to blush as you look away. You aren't sure it's working.)

5: "M-my... I am not worthy..."

(You end up blushing at your own bad acting.)

5: "Alas, in this most warm of days, you carry your cross. Is that not defiance to joy itself?"

(Four makes a whole show out of hugging himself.)

4: "Yet joy will not come to me...! Oh! It is far! It's so dark... nobody can see...!"

5: "What is it? That lies deep in the dark?"

(Brutally, Four turns away from you.)

4: "Me."

>???

>>3133411
Pray, share your plight with me. I am no confessor, but I wish to hear it nonetheless. Often simply speaking your burdens to another will lighten them, if only a little.

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>>3133443
>>3133420
>no in-voice
>votes are actions with a drive

>>3133457
'Ask him to tell you about himself', then? That's what the action boils down to, but then becomes rather more vague and directionless when I put it like that.

>>3133480
it would end up like "get him to tell you about himself by acting like a nun"
but yeah
pain in the ass
yknow, as long as you guys keep it short i can take it lol
those write ins are cool

(You let out a very exhasperated gasp that also makes you cringe from the core, which ends up in
a genuinely horrified gasp that actually fits well.)

4: "The light... the light...! Oh... OHH..!!!"

(Four falls to his knees, hand stretched towards the moon. You cry from trying so hard not to
laugh, feeling so many emotions that you feel infested.)

4: "It does not reach. It is far. Oh, if it only would peer into my heart... if only it'd tell me what
lies inside..."

>>3133420
(You shake your head, not at him, but at yourself. Then, tears rolling from the cringe, you rush to his
side and take a knee.)

5: "Pray, share your plight with me. For I am no confessor, but wish to hear it nonetheless.
Speak your mind, for it will lighten your burden- only if a tiniest little."

4: "No.... NOOOOO!!"

>>3133443
(Five seriously considers breaking free, but she's so deep in shit coming back empty-handed would
turn this memory into a mental land-mine. If you can't go up, you can only get deeper.)

(So you grab his hands.)

5: "Pray, be brave, oh holiest of knights! Let your tongue be a blade! Let the monsters see the
light!"

(Four pushes himself away from you, yet gently enough.)

4: "But, how would I- if I don't know what is inside. For no, they are mine alone... I am their
grave."

(You notice he may be glancing, so you cover your face with a palm and raise your chin.)

5: "But you are not alone, oh you pure soul. For your heart is shared by many. Behind you,
rows of bows, ready to shred this tirany apart. They need only a target- and for you to believe
their aim."

(Four shakes his head dramatically, his arm shaking as he grabs the ceiling, as if gravity was
holding him down.)

4: "Oh, poor me! OH, POOR SOUL!"

(In a flash, he rips his tuxedo open towards the sky, sending buttons flying everywhere. Your
cheeks hurt so much that tears roll down your eyes, so you claw your tight with all you got so the
pain keeps you on balance.)

(Then, he closes a fist towards the world.)

4: "OH... but fair maiden, will you fare? All that kindness, where does it rest? Is it ready to
take the dark? Will it crumble? Will it fall? Will I hate me for breaking your back?"

(You went this far already. You need a drink. You cried /less/ while you were being tortured- and
you were four years old then. So you grab his hands, turn him towards you...)

5: "Share! Share with me your demons!"

(...and notice the faint, cracked, sweet laughter coming from the side. As if synced, both you and
Four turn to look. It's Two; lying on the floor. Her face is red, her cheeks are wet, she's laughing so
hard she's drooling. You can't tell how Four feels, but you feel nothing but horror. As for Two, she
finally stops to take a deep breath-)

2: "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!"

(-and laughs away. Smiling faintly, and if for a second only, you manage to convince yourself
this is just a nightmare.)

(You stare at the laughing maid in the bleakest fashion imaginable. After all, you've got nothing
left inside. If fact, you even let yourself laugh too- after all, it's Christmas. Next to you, Four is
laughing- or at least it sounds like that, the man might be crying. Two manages to stand.)

2: "IT'S... I... I GOT YOU A..."

(Then she grabs her face away.)

5: "It's ok. Take your time."

(Two just walks up to you and, hands you the glass of 'liquid', then turns around and darts away,
leaving but ruins. Still smiling faintly at nothing, you take a sip.)

5: "Want some?"

(But he's sobbing.)

4: "Ohhh... OOOHH.... the humilliation!"

5: "Come on, it's not that bad. I got cigars too."

(But he just whimpers.)

>???

>>3133568
Press him still. If his struggle has continued for so long, he has to force a change in order to make any progress. Or is he truly alright with maintaining his current situation forever?

>>3133568
The persona he wears as a mask is broken. now that he’s fully out of character, we can now ask the crucial questions: as to why Four wears the many masks and personas.

(You just let him be for a while. Marcus did tell you he was sensitive- yet all Two did was laugh at
him. And he even forgot to mention the armor. You shudder to think why he'd consider such a
detail without importance.)

>>3133606
(At any rate, you are already beyond cringe. It is kinda freeing.)

5: "Oh, brave knight- your demons await."

4: "No! Go away!"

(You tilt your head, wondering if he's playing.)

4: "You are laughing at me too!"

("Huh", you mutter. There's no way he'd have noticed. Otherwise, this would have been over
before it started.)

5: "But what makes you think that?"

(The response you get is a loud cry- Four is literally on his four, crying towards the floor. The
mere sight of this makes you grimace so hard your eyes hurt.)

>>3133606
(Yet you sit next to him.)

5: "Come on. Let's have a drink. It's Christmas."

("TWO MINUTES!" someone yells from inside the complex.)

5: "God dammit."

(And those words are all it takes to send Four running away. You sigh as you watch him go,
completely drained. Well, that's that- whatever you do now is off-topic.)

>???

>>3133662
Well, that was a bust. Head back in, may as well try to get some use out of tonight. If Five got anything out of that conversation, she could try to confer with Marcus. Otherwise, go chat with someone else she knows. Maybe other people have know Four, by reputation if nothing else.

>>3133662
make a mental note of What just happened with Four. We may or may not be seeing him soon in our office and if we’re going to handle him in therapy,we might as well be going fully prepared to Larp out a session with him as therapy.

>>3133704
You really wouldn't mind staying here alone with the beach and sky, but that one over there coming
like a train is Two. You let her drag you as if it was an emergency, as if the countdown was meant for
the Tsar bomb. Soon enough, you are surrounded by sweaty yakuza, some laughing, some crying,
some proper, some wearing their ties for hats; most drunk out of their minds.

"Five, make a wish," Two yells amidst the crowd.

"I wish you get better," you blurt out with a half-grin.

Two goes 'AWWWWW' and jumps on you, hugging you like in those movies. For a second there, you
forgot irony is completely lost on her and paid the price. You let it happen; it's only fair.

"NINE! EIGHT! SEVEN!" and the countdown begins, all of the yakuzas hugging each other,
some with their tatoos in the air, "SIX! FIVE! FOUR!" You wonder how many more have
numbers for names as Sugar rests his arm on your head. "THREE! TWO! ONE!"

And they scream. And the fireworks go out. You grit your teeth hard, though you had covered your
ears with both hands, suddenly thinking about dogs. You end up swallowed by the drunk yakuza
group hug, then crawl your way out of the mess. Some of them are crying while hugging each
other; some are your patients. You steal a tiny cheese sandwich and some lemonade, sipping
away as the fireworks lits the sky over the beach. Someone hugs you from behind, and it can only
be Two.

"Merry Christmas, Five!" she yells. "I love you!"

You had considered telling her you /hate/ being touched, but she managed to drown your words
away. So, yawning, you let Two fawn over you, as everyone goes on a rampage and people cry
everywhere. Just like usual.

>>3133704
After a while, things get a little less hectic. The mood doesn't completely die down, but it does
feel like something's over. You go Marcus-hunting, and soon enough you find the man drunk out of
his mind, sleeping over another yakuza in the sofa. He barely just glances at you.

"Fuck you," Marcus manages. "It's Christmas."

You shrug. Maybe he does it for the town. Maybe this is a sacrifice for him. Your next choice is
Sergei, the only russian yakuza, who you learned works under Four. There are no vodka or bears
around, but he manages to hold his ground by squatting by a corner. He stares as you get near.

"Five, eh?" he manages. "You know, I haven't been seeing those clows so much lately."

"Good for you," you say. "What can you tell me about Four?"

He spits on the floor.

"Nuthin," he says. "Hell, I'm fond of you. That's why I'm not tellin you."

"Keeping me out of shit?"

He nods, once and wisely.

"Merry Christmas, Five," Sergei says, taking another sip straight from a bottle.

You walk past him. It makes sense; after all, it's not a case Daddy assigned to you.

>>3133708
You make a mental note to practice LARPing, though you doubt Four will be willing to do so
again anytime soon. God dammit, Two. Your next Christmas will be spent over a tree.

Then you remember New Year and sigh.

------------

aight boys, thats it for today.
comin up tomorrow, five vs four: the final battle
bling bliing
see my true power
yamerooo
merry christmas

aight niggars, im here
but busy
ask me shit while i take it
post in a while

You wake up in the black sofa that Two pushed into your office. While the feat makes you wonder
how strong the maid is, you are more amused than baffled because Freud used to force his
clients to sit in one of these. As you consider the many ways you could joke about this, the door
opens- of course, blocked by the sofa. Fully dressed, you rub your eyes, search your glasses,
and look through the small rift between your bed and the entrance.

"What the fuck, I can't go in." And it's Marcus.

"I have a sofa," you state, somewhat faintly smiling with pride. You consider what else to say,
but nothing comes out.

Pushing it aside leaves you gasping, but you manage to let the Marcus flow in. How the sofa
ended up against the door if Two had to leave will always be a mistery you'll think about from time to
time. He sits right in it, spinning his butt against it. The sofa barely fits between your desk and the
door, and only because it's facing towards the window at the side.

"Well anyway," Marcus starts, his eyes unfocused, "I got some shit to tell you."

Grinning, you lean towards him. "That New Year doesn't count either? That's very polite of you."

Marcus scoffs. His hair disheveled and suit wet, the man is, altough softly, vibrating from head to
toes.

"Go see Four or I'll keep on drinking," the loan-shark declares. You gesture at him to go on, but it
doesn't happen.

Then you slap your legs. "That's it?" That's your threat?"

"Yeah."

"You think I care about what people think. Interesting."

Marcus takes a cig from his pocket. "Yeah." He lightens it up without rush. "Everyone will know you suck," Marcus adds as he bites the butt, "cause I'll be fucked up on Xanax."

"Well be my guest, then," you blurt out, smiling like a shark smelling blood. "You get your high and I
get my bad example. Win-win. Go have some Schneiders on me."

"You sure?" he says.

You shrug, maybe too widely. "I'm my very worst judge, Marcus. And the one with an actual history
on psychology. Get all the random idiots in the world to boo at me, and I won't mind without
facts." You point at me. "That's democracy for you. Numbers over facts. Now tell me if it works."

Marcus is tapping his finger against his leg, then has a revelation. "Trust is your kriptonite," he
reminds you.

"Yup," you spit.

He curls his lips, taps his tight, then shrugs too. "It was worth a shot."

"It didn't work, then," you say, staring at the ceiling.

He yawns, but you squint. "Details."

"Told Four that oyabun wanted him here," he says, and you recall that's how some call Daddy, "and
the whole labels thing too. He bought it," Marcus says, catching your stare," then said 'later'."

You mutter a faint, hollow "huh". "So, even though he believed it," you ponder out loud. "Interesting."

"Yuuup, so... plan's a go before that," he says. "That's for damn sure."

"Couldn't you rush it? Tell him there was no time?"

"What the fuck was I going to say? Four's not dumb, Five. I am."

You close your eyes and focus. Yet Marcus doesn't catch the hint.

"He's been making us build all sorts of weird stuff," you hear him say from the darkness, "like,
really weird shit. Like a penguin with boxing gloves."

Marcus leans closer to the desk. His breath stinks.

"Shit is going down, Five," he states, calmly. "I don't know how. But knowing Four, he could fuck
this all down- the whole organization." Marcus takes a deep breath. "And you are a part of it."

Squinting your eyes, you tilt your head sideways a few times over.

"I go, Daddy fucks me. I tell Daddy, cake up my ass. I idle, Four burns us all," you say, with rythm.

"Yeah," Marcus says.

You lift an eyebrow towards him. It came naturally.

>"Not my job, not my problem."
>"God Dammit Fine."

>>3134879
>"God Dammit Fine. At least tell me what costume he's wearing for today."

>>3134879
>God dammit fine.

>>3134879
>"God Dammit Fine."
He's really throwing us under the bus with this one, huh? Well, alright, as long as he doesn't mind us throwing him under it too to get the job done.


We could always go the hardass professional route, but this might need a gentler touch and we already did make ourselves an in of sorts.

Perhaps we could leverage the first impression we had during the Christmas party, and visit him out of apparent personal concern rather than professional obligation. Doctors are supposed to help people recover, after all, not condemn them for the slightest issue. Despite whatever tasks Marcus may have told him we were saddled with, we could still paint ourself as discontent with having to carry them out.

>>3134898
>>3134985

"The shit I put up with," you grumble.

"Hell. That's life for you."

"Oh, no," you say loudly as you stand. "Not yet."

Marcus laughs hard, then coughs.

"Where the fuck are you even going?" he asks, as you open the door.

You step outside. "Maid hunting."

You close the door. "Cellphone's too 90's?" sounds Marcus voice behind you.

You sigh, teeth clenched. "I lost the damn thing."

------------ (: [ ) -----------

Finding Two proves hard, however. The place is big, the maid is small, and the her social circle
includes the universe. Yet, you manage. Like many fated life events, completely out of luck.

"Two," you ask as you walk towards her massive golden hair, "I need you."

"Uh?" The french maid turns towards you. Right in front of her, Abraham, the tiny abused jewish
dealer, is sobbing.

"You are so nice, Two," he says, his nose leaking green. "Everyone else can DIE."

"What did he ask for?" you wonder. "A blowjob?"

Two puffs a cheek.

"Not everyone is MEAN, Five," she declares.

You grab her by the arm and drag her with you, quite surprised that you did. It's a kind of revenge,
as you see it.

"Take me to Four," you command as you walk. "That guy we stole from the Middle Age."

Meanwhile, Two's showing a dreamy face. You let go of her.

"Aw," she complains, glaring at you. "But, Four must be thirty... at least???"

You chuckle. Hard.

"What?" she sounds angry.

"I'll explain," you say. "Lead."

She rolls her eyes and walks past you. You follow.

"And don't stop," you warn her.

All you get is a "hmp", faint and dry.

"That's why you want me there?" Two asks, as you walk past the limit between the human world and
the yakuza's. "I don't get it."

"I don't get that Four isn't back there," you ask, frowning your nose. "He out of anybody."

The maid walks you through the actual, normal hotel, with normal, actual people going about their
lives.

"Oh, well, Four doesn't like being teased," Two wanders, leading you into a hallway. "I wonder
why he wears the knight thing then."

"You are already familiar with him," you dare.

You watch her hair bounce around. "I've been here before you, you know??? And that makes me your
senpai!"

You cringe like a cat stepping on jello. "Whatever. Anyway, there's Five, Two, and Four."

Two steps into an elevator, then turns towards you.

"And One," she delivers, rising a finger. Yet she isn't smiling or anything.

"Huh," you mutter. "One," you say.

You stand next to her, and watch the doors close in front of you. As it moves against time, you
notice Two is abnormally quiet. One thing that unsettles you is that the elevator isn't going up.
You focus on the peaceful lullaby of the elevator, wondering how deep this hole goes.

"Um, hey," Two ventures.

"This is so crammed," you grumble, "I could bring my desk and clients."

The elevator sings, and you wonder how it works.

"C-can I kiss you?" you barely hear Two says.

It keeps going down.

>"God Dammit Fine."
>"What the fuck, Two."
>???

>>3135033
>>3135044
is that you
deep waters anon

>>3133304
tsunami anon is already here lol

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>>3135115
>???
[muffled noises of incredulity]

>>3135120
maybe. is my posting style that distinctive

>>3135115
What the fuck two?

>>3135125
At first you chuckle- until you realize Two is staring straight into your eyes, getting you like a
deer under headlights. It's an oddly fiting metaphor, given how strong her eyes glow.

"You mean like a peek in the cheek?" you wander.

Two shakes her head.

"What, on the lips?" you blurt. "With tongue?"

The maid covers her whole face.

"Whyyyyyyyyyyyy," Two protests. "Why did you have to put it like that?"

"Well, why do you want to kiss me?"

Two rips her hands from her face. "Because I like you!! Too much!! Why else would I want to do
that????"

Out of impulse, you take out a cigar- if only to spin it around. "We've been over this," you say, looking
away.

Two tilts her head. "No, we haven't kissed yet."

You roll your eyes.

"You like the serious therapist that makes people happy," you deliver, calmly, "even if she has to go
straight to hell to get their brains cell to do squats. Why do you think that is?"

"Yes," Two yells, as if angry. "I like it."

You find yourself still unable to face the maid.

"Because you think she's kind," you point out. "Because you think she wants to save people."

Two blinks. "What are you talking about??? Of course you want to. Why else would we be
here???"

"Not for the sake of it, Two," you tell her. "I do it in the name of Science. For research. Come on now.
How much do you think I cried for Wolf?"

You finally turn to face her. The maid's eyes are wide open.

Then she squints. "Is that all I am to you? Another test subject?"

"Yes," you say, shark-smiling. "That's why we are friends. For science."

Two stares limply at the floor, then firmly, in one fluid motion, turns away from you.

"I don't believe it," Two states with finality.

The elevator hums and hums as you study Two's long hair.

"Don't fuck the therapist," you warn the maid's back. "Don't mess with trust. Trust is a bridge- and
your only way out."

Two doesn't answer.

The humble elevator hovers slowly into position. A screeching ring sounds, and its doors open to
the sides. You follow the maid out of it, hoping she still cares for her part in the play.

It's a single, long hallway with pointless rails at the sides, dimly lit by white neon lights. You glance at
the rusty ceiling; it is quite close, despite your height. You consider just how down you are right
now; the thought almost sends shivers down your spine.

The hallway ends in what is, undoubtedly, a second garage- unfinished to be kind. Tall fans
are scattered around, all spinning, none resembling each other. Two walks past them as if
nothing. You scoff in disbelief. It's finally happening; your life is going anime.

Ears perk as you hear the echoes of laments. You stop- both of your will and due to Two's arm
across your chest. You make eye contact.

"I didn't mean it like that," she whispers, then keeps on going.

You follow her. It isn't long before you spot the penguin with boxing gloves, though Marcus forgot
to mention the big human dick. Both you and Two stop to stare at it, sharing a brief, genuine /look of
worry/ despite your differences. It only gets worse the further you go; a happy Pikachu with a dick, a
standing missle with a dick labeled "NASA", an actual tree with a dick, and a copy of the
'Sunflowers' of Van Gogh you keep in your room, in a different frame... with a dick spawning from
it.

"God dammit, why!" you blurt out, angry.

Two stops to look at you.

"Ignore that," you shrug her off.

Of course, all roads lead to Rome- as all marble dicks lead to Four. You forgot to ask Marcus what
the holy man would be wearing- but it turns out you already knew. The knight sobs loudly on the
floor, surrounded by his silent henchman- all of which you are familiar, all of which were your
patients- as a massive squirrel (with a dick) keeps repeating 'black people, black people' over and over.

"Nnnnooooooooooo, you don't get it at all," Four cries, banging the floor with his fist.

Cursing in silence, you manage a step forward.

>???

>>3135730
forgot to quote
>>3135044
taking into account

>>3136488
>"CRUSADER, TO MY OFFICE. JUDGEMENT AWAITS."

>>3136488
Greet him. We had hoped to meet again, but under circumstances better than these. Duty makes demands of us both, even though we scarcely enjoy acting the judge.

>recurring penis motif
Either Marcus is an idiot for not mentioning something like this or, even worse, it's a /new/ development.

Four still tantruming, you look at the yakuzas, some of which acknowledge you with a polite
nod. There's Sergei the russian purist, Biggy the big man, Jimmy the bigger man, 'Vainillia
Johnson', who thinks his shadow wants to kill him, and 'the Rock'; a man afraid of becoming
smarter. They all were in your office- men too deep in shit.

>>3136618
Firmly, you step towards Four, decided to end this at once. Yet-

>>3135044
-you decide a gentler touch is in order. After all, the man is crying at a squirrel with a huge penis.
With a finger, you draw the attention of the suits towards you- then wave away. They all turn to
leave; Sergei even winks at you. As silently as you can, you swallow air all the air your lungs can take
as Two watches quizzically. Just thinking about last time makes you cringe so hard it hurts- but
this is your damn job and you'll do it damn well.

"Oh prideful knight," you start, softly, "who deserves your tears?"

Four freezes as if a thunder fell on him. Crawling, he turns to look at you. Looking for your eyes, all
you find is darkness.

"What?" he bellows, bouncing to a stand. "Why... why are you here?"

He looks at Two. He points at Two.

"Wench!" Four exclamates.

Two points at him."Bad word! Bad Four!"

"Now, now," you tell Two, gently pushing her wrist down. Then you turn at Four and smile. "I had
hoped we meet again- at a context most merry. Duty makes demands of us both, even though we
scarcely enjoy acting the judge."

Four grabs his helmet with both hands, as if he were to rip it off.

"Oh... OH...! Why must the brave be seen only under dark lights," he complains, acting his own
drama. "And yet, you make the room glow. You show me the hope all around me."

Two's cheeks are going nuclear. As expected.

"Is it you that will judge me? Who will see me?" Four asks, almost dancing ballet. Then he notices
Two. "You! Begone! Out with the dry likes of you!"

"Stau near," you whisper in her ear. Not breaking eye contact, you walk towards Four. "Harsh words
ill suit you. In your gentle spirit they don't belong; this the dark that tempts us."

Four stands on the the tip of his shoes, gesturing flamboyantly. You aren't sure- you have no fucking
clue what that means, but you keep your eyes on him, you keep track of your own face.

"Pray. fair lady," Four asks, "bless me with your name, so I may carve it in the cross that holds me.
And so, when my eyes meet it, I'll know my pain holds virtue."

Yet you seem to fail- at least for a second. Did Marcus... You leave your body behind, if for a
second. Marcus didn't tell you about the helmet. Marcus didn't tell you about the dicks. Marcus
may have, or may have not, told Four who you are.

"Huh," you mutter. He may not still know you are Five.

Four takes both your hands. "Oh, my light- what holds you?"

>Tell him.
>Don't tell him.

>>3136844
>Tell him.
The truth must out. We are Five - his damnation, or his salvation.

>>3136844
"Looking for HIS eyes, all you find is..." maan, why is writan hard

>>3136844
>Tell him.
But say it in Latin. "Quintus" (means 'Fifth' in Latin aka Five), If he does know his latin he'll freak out regardless. But if we want to lure him into our office we need to string him along.

>>3136876
Confidence /is/ top of the mountain when it comes to therapy. You are telling people how to
deal with their lives, with their deepest problems- the only ones that actually matter.

>>3137037
You /hate/ being touch, but not nearly as much as falling under your own standards. Leaving your
hands under Four's, you peer into the darkness of the visor and say "Quintus".

And Four stands too still for far too long.

"Quintus," the knight repeats. You notice his hands trembling right before he leaps away- and falls on
his butt.

So he points at you from the ground. "T-that therapist! It's you!" You hear him breathing fast in
and out. "Five!"

"Yup," you state, shark-grinning.

...And Four cover his head. "No," he says, as if asking a question. "No," he says, with feeling. "No,
no, no, NOOOOOOOOO!"

Your jaw drops. "W-wait," you manage to mutter. But you see them coming.

"God of Fuck, it's a meltdown," you catch a voice amidsts the screams, and it's Marcus. A cigar in
his lips, the man stares at you almost at ease. "What did you tell him?"

You notice the rest run and kneel next to Four, big men who crush arms, trying to calm him down
with lullabies. Aw fuck, aw fuck-

>???

>>3137037
>But if we want to lure him into our office we need to string him along.
I feel like we might be able to force him along be convincing him that a reckoning is at hand, and his only way out is cooperating with us. Maybe.

But I'm not sure I see the point of especially deriving a false name from our actual one. It's a deception either way.

>>3137096
It seems blunt honesty was not the wise option.
White lies and what not, the crusader has been terrified shitless, I think his rampant fears and paranoia along with his cosplay autism has turn this situation into a nightmare scenario where Four will absolutely not cooperate with us whatsoever.

>>But I'm not sure I see the point of especially deriving a false name from our actual one. It's a deception either way.

clarify

>>3137089
Tell him that if we had known at the time of the party, we'd have tried harder for his sake. We do not relish the role of judge, jury and executioner. We wish to help him change his fate and lighten his burden, if he'll allow us to. But he has to be willing to work with us if he wishes to effect a change.

>>3137115
Just that 'Quintus' isn't really any more honest than any other fake name - it still isn't the name we choose to go by, and the intent to deceive is still there.

>>3137178
k!
>>3137113
what about you dude

>>3137190
no input.

Being stubborn about your point of view during an argument is, to the mind, the same as throwing a
tantrum so you don't hear what they have to say. As much as you've loathed the former, you find
the later also damages your ears- and eyes. Four is a full grown man, maybe even a bit bulky. And
there he is- shouting like a tard on fire.

>>3137178
You walk up to the big men, barely realizing that Two is right next to you.

"Four? Four? Hear me out." Like a barrier, his yelling blocks reason. "Fucks sake, Four, listen to
me."

Except Sergei, all the other yakuzas glare at you. You close your mouth, their message loud and
clear. You grimace at Two, who glances at Four, then at you, then at Four, then at you- then bites
her lip in disgust.

After a while, the big boys manage to calm him down. Marcus waves at you, so you go.

"Four," you ask, But words don't come out. You consider patting his shoulder, only to realize that
could backfire badly. That's when Two pats yours.

Then kneels next to him. "Four???" she asks. "Do you want something to drink???"

The man sobs away, grabbing his helmet. "Go away!" he howls. "You'll laugh at me!"

And Two laughs, but faintly. She grabs Four's arm steadily.

"Awwwww, but I wasn't laughing at you," Two says, laughing. Four turns to her. "Do you want to know
why I laughed??? I'm not smart. But I think I can tell you."

"Go away!" Four bellows.

Two 'hmms'. "But then you'll feel all alone," Two says, "and I know how that is. Please?"

Four looks at you, then at Two. Then nods.

Two smiles like a mother. "I was happy to see you two could have fun in a place as dark and grim as
this. See? It's not about you. Do you know why we laugh, Four? Because we feel relief that thinks
aren't so bad."

You remember Two lost her family and scared her girlfriend off out of fear losing her too. Then
fucked nobodies to feel loved. It's an interesting feeling.

Two laughs. "Five here is so scary, isn't she??? I know, I know. She looks like a shark." She pats
Four in the helmet, nodding to herself. It's like a drum. "But, she doesn't bite," Two winks as you roll
your eyes, "and she wasn't mean with you, either."

"She was making fun of me," Four lashes out. "T-that scoundrel!"

"Bad Four, bad Four," Two says, caressing his arm. Marcus gestures at you, but all you can do is
shrug. Eyes fixed on the visor, Two 'hmms' quietly, giving herself time to think.

"I don't think that's how it was, Four," Two says, surprised. "What makes think Five was being
mean?"

Four sobs, and it's so fake it kicks your stomach. "S-she was lying! That therapist! She wants to tell
me I'm crazy!"

"But, Four," Two says, "we are all mad here."

Your face freezes. It's so real, even Jimmy the bigger man reels in pain. Glancing at the man, you
scoff in disbelief as not even Four has a comeback- not even a whimper to offer. As you
wonder if Two can get away with this brutality, the maid takes the knight's hands between hers.

"What if Five wasn't mean?" Two offers. "What if she played along with you because she wants to
help you? Just" Two drowns Four's voice with her own, "just pretend with me. It's an 'hypothekesis'."

Four goes still for a second. "That would be fair," he says.

Two leans her face closer, clutching his hands against her chest. "Can you be brave, Four?" she
asks. "Can you believe it to be true?"

Then the knight's helmet turns towards you. You stay as still as you can. Just in case. Then- he
laughs. Four laughs.

"She does look like a shark," the knight says.

"She does," Marcus says.

"Yeah," Jimmy adds.

Biggie's laughter sounds like a dying vulture. "She's a walking shark!"

Both The Rock and Vainillia grunt and nod, so you turn to the russian.

"They are wonderful animals, Five," Sergei helps. "Like bears on submarines."

They are all staring at you now. You know you aren't cute- but having it fall like this, while Four is
cradled like a baby, is infuriating. And yet, this may well be your last chance to not seem scary. And
you know it.

"Yeah," you yell. "I also smell blood."

They all laugh. Relief, alright. You let them laugh, smiling like you usually do. Bitterly.

>???

>>3137402
What can you do to make yourself seem less scary?

Crack a joke? Eh, that'd probably go over poorly. Humor is hard.

Offer to hold the session in a more comfortable environment, outside of your office? Maybe, but let's keep that in your back pocket for now.

It'd probably be simplest to take advantage of Two's setup and just confirm that we want to help him, expressing that the outcome where he lets himself be helped is far more agreeable to the both of us than the outcome where he doesn't. We don't want to tell people they're crazy, not really; we want to tell them how to to be.

Try to persuade him to talk with us, and feel out what would make him more comfortable doing so.

>>3137402
> Tell him he needs help.
> Get other yakuzas to persuade him.

>>3137402
Ask him if he would like us to stay and act as the priest from christmas night.

You feel dumb as they laugh. Teasing is giving a chance- to prove they feel safe around you. And
you, like everyone else, should appreciate that joking is risky, and that someone is taking that
risk for you.

Easier said than done, as always.

>>3137504
>>3137639

"Yeah, well, so if you dont' talk with me I 'll eat you," you try, and Two's face says you failed.

The maid laughs nervously. "See??? That's why people laugh. We aren't laughing at Fives, we are
happy we can have fun with her without her getting mad."

"Haha, yeah," you mumble, teeth bared. "Four," you start, staring at the big mob men while pointing at
the knight with your eyes, "come to my office."

Four hugs his legs. "I don't feel like it."

God dammit.

"Four," you start, firmly, "you aren't crazy."

He perks up.

"You are fucked up. And I won't hide that," you state bluntly. Two grimaces so hard her face
looks funny.

"I'm not!" Four shouts, shaking. "Get off!"

"If you were all rays and sunshine, you wouldn't be sitting on the damn floor and crying. Now-" you
bend your back towards him, as Four reels back, "I can help you. I really can. I'm very damn at what I
do." You glare at the big men. "Guys, am I good at my job?"

They all go 'yeah, yeah', nodding, talking.

"See?" you rumble. "Fucks sake Four, look at the shit I put up with for your sake."

You spread your arms towards the whole place, towards the dicks and ferrets- with dicks.

"It's art!" Four screams. "It's too deep for you! You don't get it!"

"Five," Two whispers.

"I don't need help!" Four yells.

You raise a palm towards Marcus, who was just about to talk. The rest of them stare at you,
stressed, some clenching their fist.

"I can't start therapy on bullshit," you admit, grimly. "I can't do anything if you think you are doing fine.
But I swear you; I don't want to say you are crazy. I never want to do that. I want to tell you the truth."

Four stands at once, with sudden impetus. "I don't need it," he states with finality, lifting his chin.

So you shake your head. "Sure. You can live without it," you say peacefully. "You can live
without being happy. Trust me. I know."

Gently, you clap your tighs.

"Is that what you want?" you ask.

Four stops in place- then muses around around the place, walking erratically. With your eyes, you
follow him around. The man wanders past his creations, clearly stuck in a cloud. Then he stops
at once, in front of, perhaps, his holiest creation: a big, massive dick- with a dick of its own.

"Another opinion never hurts, Four," Two adds.

Four finally turns towards you.

"I'll go," he says. "Tomorrow."

"Two hours," you say dryly. "And it's the only chance I'm going to give you."

Four grabs his head. "Noooooooooooooooo....!"

But you ignore him.

>>3137761
You sigh.

"We can do this the normal way," you offer, less than thrilled, "or the priest way from Christmas
night." You glance at Two. "I can do at least that much."

Four grabs his head, stops on the ground (which makes you flinch), walks around in silence,
gestures towards the air as if arguing with a ghost- then sighs loud and longly.

"Then I'll take the priest," he allows.

You let yourself deflate, then bow courtly towards him. "Then let my light show the way."

Drained, you turn around and get away, not even turning to look back. This is your limit. And it's so
real, you can't even tell when Two caught up to you on the way back. She shows you to the
elevator, presses the buttons- and it rings again faster than what took you to lean against the
back. After the door opens towards the lobby, you intently glare at Two; she just shrugs.

---------------------

You melt into your chair as if your bones were muscles too. Time alone, to you, is a resource as
valuable as water. And you won't have much more of it- if only you've told Four 'three hours' instead
of 'two'. Too bad. You take out the small rubber ball you bring everywhere, and fling it around,
letting your mind wander at whim. The ball makes the only sound around as if hits your hand,; the
rythm makes you drowzy.

Then the door opens, and the ball bounces on your head. You clear your throat stoically, as if
that didn't happen, as the iron clad knight makes his way to the chair at the other side of the desk.

5: "So, here we are. Finally."

(His hand shaking, Four points at you.)

4: "...You promised."

(It takes your heart and soul to not roll your eyes. You smile at Four.)

5: "Well met, my warrior of the heart."

>???

>>3137867
Play along for now.

>>3137867
>"So my fair crusader, shall we resume what we once left off on the eve of yesterday night? Fret not, for you are not alone in your crusade against the inner demons of man. You have me by your side."

>>3138026
(You'll keep your cards close to the chest. For now. A strong word could send this man flying.)

>>3138026
5: "So, my fair crusader, shall we resume what we once left off on the eve of the night? Fret
not, for you are not fighting alone against the inner demons of man. You have me by your side."

Four claps, slowly. The steel gauntlets on the back of his hands clank like wind chimes.

4: "Such warm words... I am not worthy."

(You agree.)

4: "Alas, we are at odds. For it is not the sword that rips the flesh, but the crude hand that
guides it."

(You nod wisely, despertely hoping he clarifies. Four grabs Yorick's invisible head.)

4: "This world... is rash and cold, blind to the beuty of men. They cannot see me. Oh, they
cannot see me."

(You wait for him to keep going- but he tilts his helmet towards you. Your stomach churns. Time
to gesture.)

5: "Do my eyes deceive me? Do I not see a son of men, a prey of dark melancholies? A man
whose sword points inwards?"

4: "Oh, you think you see, but you are looking with your eyes, you are hearing with your ears, you
are smelling with your nose. You are looking; you are not seeing."

5: "I hear the sound of rain, I feel the wind caressing my cheek, I see a knight of modern
ways- what is it that I miss?"

4: "Oh! You miss so much... so much! This reunion, this chance meeting, is but a warm
futility, an excuse to share the light."

(You stop yourself from frowning only a second too late.)

5: "Yet, what are we without trust- but brutes with clubs, sleeping with one eye open? Won't you
share your eyes, my knight? Won't you entrust upon this, you loyal servant, the landscape only
seen by the heart?"

4: "Oh! How I wish. But without eyes, you cannot see- without ears, you cannot listen.
Without skin... Oh, but I am without it- in flesh bare, in plain sight- yet no eye that looks is seeing
me."

(Four crushe's Yorick's skull.)

4: "For I cannot be judged in the eyes of man."

>>3138099
aaaaand
>???

>>3138099
Are you above men?

>>3137504
>Humor is hard.

this is the fivevishest thing ive read you guys say so far

>>3138099
Humor him. Put a blindfold on. "If you wish not to be judged by the eyes of man, then let me humor you, I am now a blind woman who sees no man, who hears only a voice. "
>>3138169
Autism is even harder.

>>3138101
Man cannot see him, and yet he was born a son of Man. What makes him think this way?

What acts has he wrought, has he had wrought unto him, that have led him apart from his fellow man?

I'm struggling to think of a way to bring up the penis art while remaining in character.

(You let silence linger on purpouse for a while. Four taps on his thigh with haste- and you can
hear it.)

>>3138151
(Right as he tries to break the ice, you talk over him.)

5: "My, how I crave sights beyond the reach of men. That we are all born the same, had me
yield to my eyes. And then, where you are? Where can I meet your real eyes? Left? Right? Or are you
above our fellow man?"

(You flich as Four grabs your arm from across the table, going limp like a rodent caught by a snake
that hopes it thinks it dead.)

4: "Oh. Not here. You won't find me among vulgar men. Look beyond, try, reach out; seek me
with your heart, and you will find me among the stars."

(You attempt a smile. It's like your face is ice that cracks as you try.)

>>3138281
(Yet you forget about it as an idea strikes you like a drunken parent.)

5: "If you wish not to be judged by the eyes of men, then let me humor you."

(You open up a drawer. Two conveniently left a pair of black socks- along the rest of your clean
underwar. If you fold the black part of it, they may just work like a blindfold. You'll find out.)

4: "Oh!"

(Four gasps. It's all black now. All Sugar.)

5: "I am now a blind woman that sees no man, who hears only a fair voice. I surrender my
eyes. I surrender my heart."

(You don't hear Four, so you resume. This makes you nervous. You are beginning to regret this.)

5: "I want that which, shining, lies above. My prejudice has been cast aside, my judgement has
been purified."

4: "Oh! Alas! You still have your ears. And how to put in words that which is divine? It doesn't
fit in language, it doesn't fit in talk. You can only feel it; that which I am."

(...You are beginning to sweat.)

>???

>>3138432
falus

>>3138281
>Autism is even harder
you bet
i lost an update looking for the word 'drawer'
cuz i closed the tab

>>3138439
Give him a riddle to solve.

>>3138439
Phallus*

>>3138488
consort with my phallus
oh thine vulgar wench
thou lips shall tease me
and free me from this warmth

>>3138434
Alas, words are all we have as yet; we are yet two souls, apart. If words are not enough to show us who he is, will he perchance speak to tell us who he once was?

I mean, uh, ask him to tell us about his past. If he doesn't think he can sufficiently explain that state he's currently at, maybe telling us how he got here might be informative?

>>3138439
I wasn't referring to the actual verbiage; I was thinking more how to reconcile the fair maiden act with basically asking him 'TELL ME ABOUT THOSE DIIIIIIIIICKS'.

Well, I'm sure the chance will come up eventually.

>>3138461

5: "My kind voice from the dark, what is it that which runs with no legs, whispers with no
mouth, hugs with no arms, flies with no shape?"

(You hear the table cracking softly. Maybe Four's resting his elbows on the desk, like you do.)

4: "The breath of the wild. The wind."

(It seems Four is smart.)

>>3138498
5: "Won't the messenger of words be the one to deliver the message? Alas, what else we
have, but the sound we make with our tongues- for we are yet two souls."

4: "This task's not the wind's, my heart. It is not noise; it does not distract. Feelings vanish in
the air. We can only accept them."

(Your forehead tickles, but scratching your head would kill the mood. If you can take the cringe,
you can take the pain.)

5: "Then may your words deliver me far, ages past, so I may find the way myself. Warmth
can only be felt. Carry me to the light of the past."

(Four doesn't answer instantly.)

4: "There's nothing there but dark- and amidst that dark, nothing but harm. Oh, my
wounds... they do not heal. Shall I open my heart, for you? Shall I beat the pain? For you?"

5: "Burn me with the glow of the past."

4: "Oh... but where shall I take you?"

>???

>>3138640
How he came to be here in the Trashcan should be a decent starting point. From there we can work out whether we need to go backwards or forwards in time with our questions.

>>3138640
Childhood.

>>3138640
>"Take me to the moment you donned your helm and began your crusade."

>>3138654
5: "Pray tell me, what light were you following that you ended in a place dark as this?"

(You hear a loud, clear sigh- a carefully crafted sigh.)

4: "Oh, my poor heart... It cannot take the burden of the common man. For I am destined to
bigger things, yet the small pebbles hurt my feet. I found solace with the dark souls, that ask of me
but my wisdom. I share with them my dimming light, which is wasted in the eyes of a blind man."

>>3138662
5: "Take me to the root now- to the place where the world was so much bigger."

(Four takes a bit to answer.)

4: "Oh! My childhood! It's light... incandescent! Oh, but it is tainted... there's black
and white. For I am a fragile man, I was once a sad child... mauled... crushed... crippled by my
own father."

(Four stops talking, and you wonder if he's over.)

4: "He made me a broken man."

>>3138672
5: "It sparks my mind- your attire. Such a guarded man. When did this crusade start?"

4: "This steel of mine it shields me- it guards tender feelings. Oh, but I am naked- laid bare to
mankind. For I the only one."

(The itch is getting really annoying, but you can take it. There's no worst itch than when a job bad
done comes to mind.)

4: "The metal on me, it is tainted... by memories. Oh, I bear them like a flag... the times I
felt accepted. So tempting it was, to believe man can understand... alas, I was meant to fall."

(Not only does your forehead itch, but your stomach hurts. With utmost caution, you let a
silent, professional fart; almost something to be proud of.)

>???

>>3138749
"The metal on me, it is tainted... by memories. Oh, I bear them like a flag... the times I
felt accepted. So tempting it was, to believe man can understand... alas, I was meant to fall."
Tell me more.

>>3138749
>I was once a sad child... mauled... crushed... crippled by my own father. He made me a broken man.
>The metal on me, it is tainted... by memories. Oh, I bear them like a flag... the times I felt accepted. So tempting it was, to believe man can understand
So he was abused as a child by his father, and presumably his face was left disfigured, which causes him to hide it for fear of being rejected by others?

That or his dick was. Which would be somewhat more complex problem to solve.

>>3138749
Ask him to bridge the gap of his childhood and his arrival here. He was left broken as a child; what path did the world take him on to furnish him with the skills that brought him into his current company? How did he not simply rot away alone and die?

>>3138787

Hmm, what we know so far from Four: He's very insecure and sensitive to the point of behaving like a child. He also has daddy issues. He dons the armor because it was once his source of solace. But it seems that something happened that has caused his sole source of happiness tainted by his now current sensitive condition of self-percieved disgrace.

His self-disciplined act of LARPing like a Medieval knight may also be a way to cope with the reality of the situation. He hates his true self or rather, the image others wanted him to project, and so he dons the knight's armor. His rosy view with the Chivalry and the o' english speech tells us the view he really wants to see where honor and justice reigns supreme, but during christmas night he has confessed that he still isn't happy because deep down he knows that the knightly persona he has crafted and the armor he dons in the end is still just a persona and a suit of armor.

Abuse doesn't have to be physical, it can sometimes be emotional and mental abuse as well.

>>3138749

>"You speak of the armor you wear like a noble coat of arms that you took pride in. Tell me of those nobler times when chivalry and justice still rang true. Regale me of your tales, heroic deeds, the brothers in arms you have fought alongside with, o' Galliant knight."

tl;dr ask him about the memories associated with his knight armor. Hopefully we can find the specific source of happiness associated with his knightly persona, as well as what caused him to feel very ashamed of himself.

I was at one point was considering to ask to feel his face by touch, but that would not be very professional from a Therapist's standpoint, also it's super personal as hell and I don't know if he actually has facial scars if he's actually hesitant about. I'll keep this option in the back pocket. It's a very dangerous move depending on the condition that ails Four.

>>3138762
5: "Show me- that stain in your cracked armor. Teach me why men can't see, so I may
change my path."

(Four sighs like an actress, again. That, too, is pretty annoying.)

4: "Oh, the voices of the past... they screech. They do not understand. For I was once a young
lad, unaware of the limits of the common man. I'd spent my education on my own, fascinated by the
intrincancies of the sword, as to not waste my roses with the pigs. I'd read of knights, willing to
spend their lives for the task. Ill was there a thirst for gold or glory- these men had a pure motive,
and mine was yet to be found."

(Four stops for a while, maybe to catch his breath, maybe to think his prose.)

4: "Though as luck would have, there I was, in the land normal men. Oh, their trifles and fights;
they consume my poor mind. For they burn their sweat and shed their blood for but the pettiest of
motives. They'd spent their life taking calls, they change their time for cold cash- and then trade it
all for car. Oh, was I alone... until I found Jack."

(The drop of sweat falling through your cheeks feels much more real now that you can't see. You
notice Four has been silent for too long.)

5: "Do tell me about Jack, oh brave knight. Let us charge through the darkness of the past.

(You hear Four sob. God dammit. You make a point to never again be blind, alone, and with a
lunatic at the same time.)

4: "I was never short on flesh to taste. Maidens came and go like the fickle will of the
wind. But Jack... oh, I was so alone. And I didn't even know it back then. There was once one who
dared to peer into the dark... and that was him."

5: "Where is he now? This brave wanderer that walks into the hearts of men?"

4: "He left me... alone in the dark."

(You wonder if he's crying. His voice seems to imply as much. That, or he's one great actor.
Which would be bad, because bullshit of this quality is hard to deal with.)

4: "This armor I wear... that stands between me and the crude fellowship of apes... is stained
with my tears. It protected me from myself. It saved me from another man that could not
understand."

>>3138787
(You let Four mop in silence, but that doesn't make you any more patient by the least. There's
nothing to distract you from the itch in your nose, but you keeping up the show is top priority. Simple
gestures like that can break the charm, and you want him so comfortable that he spills something
he didn't want to say.)

5: "It must have been such a long journey, for such a frail soul. For the road of this world is
one and made of stones, and we all are doomed to walk it."

4: "Oh, my fair maiden, how fair your words are, for I too had a father. A gray man, a simple
man- who spoke not with words, but with hands. His son I was, and yet he did not understand. For I
couldn't stand the simplicity of mankind- and I needed time, to find my motive, like the knights.
Oh, did we struggle...he did not understand. Then the anger took him, and he casted me aside; I was
exiled by my own dad."

(You don't think 'dad' really fits in context. But whatever.)

5: "My, my, knight... you are among fellow hearts. From hell, you won't be exiled. Once at the
depths, you cannot go down."

4: "Hell... oh! Such a fitting name... And yet, oyabun was a father, the first one I had. He saw
my heart was worth it, and lent me his squires. For a knight must yield his life, and so I did to
save a cat. He saw the beuty of my motive, the clarity of my task. And I ended up here; a
tarnished guiding light."

>>3138854
5: "You speak of the armor you wear like a noble coat of arms that shared your wars. Tell me
of those nobler times; sing to me of the golden age of justice and chivarly. Regale me of your
tales, of your heroic deeds, of your brothers in arms, oh Galliant Knight."

(You wonder where your face should be facing at. This whole experience has been surprisingly
educative; you weren't aware of just how much work you left for your eyes. Gestures, facial
expressions, disheveled hair, or a stray tear- images tell a tale of theiro own. You wonder what
tale Four wants to say with that armor.)

4: "Oh, time: how I wish you went in circles. There's no place like the past, such a safe haven...
for how can men deceive when they aren't there anymore. Young I was, and about to meet Jack-
such a casual name. Yet it was the community that dragged me, such passionate fellows, thirsty
to learn of the sword and heart. They'd play wars with sticks, wars without blood and tears. They,
like me, would seek to drown themselves in the tales, to feel the inner drive that pushed the
knights, if only in fantasy. Not a maiden was in sight; for only the men went to fight, back in the
Middle Times. I would let myself fall prey to their story; I'd be a knight of ages yore."

5: "Time; if only you weren't in a hurry."

4: "Oh, time: if only you weren't. How I learned magic is like timber: it burns so fast and
brightly. I was left alone for the first time, for my fire was the one that burned the brighter. No one
could calm it; and I watched the forest burn."

>???

Well then. Four spilled lots of juicy stuff. Like a sinner at a confession booth.
Okay, so here's what I've figured out.
So, a boy in his childhood, abused physically, mentally, and emotionally, finds solace in learning swordplay, reading up medieval history, adopts the code of chivalry, and spends money buying/crafting a suit of armor. Yet this displeases his father who expected Four to grow up and become a successful salaryman.

He's at least handsome enough that he can lay with any woman so there's no physical abuse as he states that he was "never short on flesh to taste", but finds himself dissatisfied with women, which implies that he tried to vent his stress by dating, or going to love hotels for a casual fuck-fling, or paying a prostitute for a night of comfort.

He also had a career as a salaryman as he describes the routine of a salaryman in a typical business/accounting company. A career which he soon ditches completely after dating women left him unfulfilled, and when he discovers a local LARPing group (his friend Jack among the group's number). This did not go over well with his father whom we can safely assume is of very high standing in the world of business. father-son conflicts led to the father disowning the son, and Four doubling down on his solace of Knightly roleplay, growing closer with Jack.

Until one day, He soon discovers that he is a closet gay for Jack. Jack may have also learned of Four's sexual orientation as Jack was the one who initiated the breaking of the close fellowship between him and Four. Four justifies the end of the fellowship as a means to "protect Four from himself."

From this point on, we "could" say that Four doubled down on his LARPing big time, but the abuse of his father, the ditching of his career, the disowning by his father, the discovery of his orientation and the heartbreak that soon followed after, took a toll on his psyche. He's become super sensitive to his past, to his hobby of LARPing as a medieval knight, to his extreme awareness to his closet orientation compared to the modern heterosexual man, that any implied insult/mockery will send the poor soul into a spiraling breakdown at a hair's trigger.
His LARPing hobby as a Noble Knight once his solace has also become a source of shame.

He then wandered his way into the Trashcan, where deep in his Roleplay, he caught the attention of Daddy through his noble actions of saving a cat. Daddy became a very kind father figure to Four to the point of becoming a replacement for his previous father, a ray of warmth in Four's life, where he can LARP his Knightly persona to his heart's content and be the modern day Knight-in-medieval-armor he always wanted to be. But lately he's been sad and unhappy and he doesn't know why.
(cont)

>>3139243
From what I can tell by the many many dolls and cartoon characters with erect dicks attached to them that Four made in his madness, he has a fixation on his sexual orientation. He's a closet gay. He knows he's gay but it's a source of shame to him.

He once had two sources of "comfort" in his life; his LARPing and Romance.

The first of which is LARPing.
His meltdowns and freakouts among his associates in the Yakuza as Marcus would note (freaks out when things aren't going to "his plan") point to his growing discontent that his constant LARPing and his Chivalry antics isn't as satisfying to him anymore, which is exemplified when his associates bitch and moan about it. He can do the job that Marcus asks of him to do really well, but he's grown more and more disillusioned with it and his sole comfort of LARPing isn't just providing that "magic" anymore. It's turned to a point of shame and an easy landmine to trigger when someone "breaks the illusion of the magic" by either mocking his hobby (Two going ROFL on Christmas night) or "breaking character" (When Five or any of Marcus's crew doesn't play along with Four).

This leaves Romance as his other option, but given the circumstances of his orientation and how he had been burned before (Jack breaking his friendship with him over the discovery that Four was gay), Four is left unable to do remotely anything about it. And Four had very specific preferences about his men. (Pure of motive, Lawful Good, Knightly, and Passionate), it seems that none of the men in the Yakuza clan fit his expectations and his orientations seem to clash with his hobby as well as his hyper-awareness of his orientation.

Now bereft of both, he's gone into a sort of mental/emotional deathspiral, doing antics that border on madness unless he finds something that "brings the magic back" in his LARPing hobby, or he finds another lover he can have confidence in romancing.

>>3139319
The LARPing part might be easy to address, which is simply to LARP in moderation. He's suffering from Hobby burnout. It gets especially bad since he tries to force the LARPing aspect onto his associates which makes him feel that his hobby isn't of worth. He can LARP all he wants as a knight, but he has to be aware that there is a time and place for LARPing and that people need their personal time and space to be "themselves". And there's nothing wrong with other people being themselves. Five isn't the type to roleplay, but she roleplays for the sake of trying to reach Four through the many shells and layers of Armor that keep Four from realizing the wound that festers in his soul.
What Four also needs to realize is that the "magic" in LARPing isn't the courtly tales and passionate RPing 24/7. The real magic is having the opportunity to escape from the everyday and enter the fantasy even if it is for one hour.

The Romance part? That's going to be difficult. Four's is a closet gay. And closet gays are sensitive to how other people perceive their sexual orientation, this is especially bad when it comes to men. Finding a lover is going to be difficult for Four. Even harder is being openly gay and being okay with the fact that everyone will eventually learn of your true orientation and have their own opinion about it. I have a few solutions that could help, but I'm a bit tired at the time of writing this 3-part wall of text so I'll try and get back to it later.

There is also another problem that Four might also need to address: Family issues. I have a few solutions that could help, but I'm a bit tired at the time of writing this 3-part wall of text so I'll try and get back to it later.

hey guys quest in two hours
>>3139243
>>3139319
>>3139333
wow

>>3139243
>>3139319
Very possible. The homosexuality part was particularly evident to me, but you've thought
it through past the point that I have.

Our next step would then be to ask questions that confirm or deny your theory. Perhaps ask about his time spent with Jack, or what the last he's heard of his father is?

>>3139333
What if we redirected his LARPing tendencies towards a direction more fitting to his current situation? The knightly chivalry doesn't quite fit with being a yakuza, but if he were to take the role of an actual criminal who nonetheless holds a code of honor, might that be more acceptable? There are numerous examples to draw upon; we could tell him of Robin Hood's legends, or get him to play through the Yakuza series.

We would ideally have at least one other pillar of mental support for him. As you've noted, he's easily set off when his current sole solace of LARPing is disturbed. Dealing with his romantic issues would be ideal, but then again trying to cause too great a change in him at once may also be dangerous.

It may be viable to redirect his interests towards some other hobby as an interim measure; it could be anything - writing, cooking, painting - though methods of self-expression might be most engaging to him. Though, given his seemingly obsessive nature, it may end up turning out to be a permanent measure - not that that'd necessarily be a bad thing.

>>3139969
Ask more about the gay stuff.

>>3141724
>>3139333
guuuys vooootes

>>3141971
>>3141724
>Our next step would then be to ask questions that confirm or deny your theory. Perhaps ask about his time spent with Jack, or what the last he's heard of his father is?

5: "And yet timber is always there, ready for the man willing to reclaim it. Bring an axe and the
will, bring the sweat and the steel- and the forest won't deny."

(You draw meaning from the silence that follows. A sigh follows.)

4: "Oh, but my arms... they cannot bear the axe. For my hands are meant to write- and my
heart, to shine."

>>3141778
>>3141975

>Ask about Jack.
>Ask about his father's current wereabouts.

5: "Pray tell, gentle warrior, of the one who wandered your dark. Your heart. For he was a
gentle man; and to be brave, one must be kind."

4: "Oh, Jack; where did your feet take you? Come back, come back; follow my light. For you
could not undertand; but you tried, tried too hard. Your love failed to reach me, for you could not see
me. For my fire you couldn't take, for my wrath you couldn't face. And you were not a patient man; so
for your efforts, there was no reward."

5: "Knight, knight of the swamps; knight of the sorrows of the heart. Had Jack know of your
warmth? Had flesh met flesh in delight?"

4: "This not flesh that bonds, but feels that talk. Our hands never met. For Jack was my dear
friend; and now is a hole in my chest."

5: "Odd that with Jack you didn't talk the language of warmth; for he was the one. Were
rules the barrier to chest? Were manners what kept you from his skin?"

4: "Oh! But it isn't skin what reaches the hard. Oh, it is vain and bland; image, a pitiful lie.
For it is not seen by the eyes what matters to the heart. It was not touch I made our bridge; but the
complexities of the mind."

5: "Would man or woman matter? Would the shape or role they play?"

4: "Heart sees no shape or labels; it feels for us all. For man and woman are but characters in a
play; and the actors, all that matters. For how dare one speak of love highly, fool who cuts his
chances by half."

5: "And the one who's seen you grow, where does he lay now? Is he watching from the skies?
Or is he waiting for you to arrive."

4: "It is neither of what you ask, for he waits, but for a different man. And I shall not come back;
for I am not what he desires."

>???

>>3142277
Keep asking about this guy he would like to be with.

lol its so
peaceful here
srsly though, enjoy the parties with your families
unless they are assholes
in that case, try a moccachino. that shit rocks

happy new year guys

>>3142277
He seems to be accepting of his sexual orientation or lack thereof, or at least so he says. Perhaps ask more of the times he spent with Jack? What drove Jack away?

(At a loss for words, you gently pinch your cheek betweehn your thumb and forefinger. After all, prose is
hard.)

5: "Is it heavy the sword? Has it thorns on its grip? For what does he requests you bear, this man with iron
fists?"

4: "Oh! My priest! Any blade is harsh, for the man with a gentle heart. For its weight will hurt my hand and I
wasn't born to fight."

5: "And yet, man can learn- for to move is to change. From one second to the next, a new being
emerges- at times, less a shadow of itself."

(It's faint, but you hear Four sigh loudly. And you are certain it wasn't intended.)

>>3145329
>>3142563

5: "Modern knight with a gentle heart, I crave to know more about this Jack."

4: "What is it that you ask, oh, holy maid, with kindness in her veins?"

(You cringe, but try to convence yourself that Four is doing all of this intentionally to fuck with you. It works.)


5: "These memories- they seem fond. For this man, you weep and talk. What was it that was so merry? What
was it that spawned sparks?"

4: "OH! Jack. Your words were deep. You'd play vassal to man who weeped. That was me. You'd bring me
bread and drinks, you'd bend and kneel on my behalf. Oh, Jack; my wondrous squire. Were you here, I wouldn't
have my wine."

5: "What is your last memory, of the one who saw inside? How were the days spent? How did you get that
scar?"

('Scar', Four mutters. Then goes 'oh!')

4: "Oh! This scar of mine... this hole in my chest! It was all a mess, for who can control itself? I'd cry and rip,
I'd blame and cast. Yet this man kept coming back. I'd ask him why he stood, since my beauty, he could not see.
So why was he here with me? This question, I could not kill. For one day, he left for the sea."

(Your forehead is itching.)

>???

>>3146888
Ask if he thinks he is still a living being.

>>3147062
5: "Gente knight, do you breathe? Under that helmet, do you feel? Do you think yourself a living being?"

(Four seems to ponder about this one hard. His hand bouncing with his thigh sounds like a fan turning on.)

4: "Oh! I am but weak, a wounded shadow at its knees. Yet I think. I live. I ask thee, what is the point of
this?"

>???

>>3147109
The point is this: he loved Jack. So much so that being apart from him tears him up inside. They were so closely bonded, sharing their deepest thoughts; and yet, he drove Jack away with his doubts of their relationship, so much so that one day Jack simply left.

What stayed him from following? Did he not know, or did he merely not act?

It's interesting that Five, Four, and Two have apparently all had romantic issues in the past.

>>3148048
I'm willing to call out a pattern: Even digits are gay, Odds are straight. We'll need another odd number to confirm that theory though.

>>3147440

5: "Knight, hath thou... hath thou... when... the moon... follow."

(You squint under the socks you use as a bandage, ending up nibling on your forefinger.)

4: "Hath thou- followed the moon? With your heart?"

(Four sounds concerned.)

5: "Hath thou let your leave, towards the marsh, on a whim? Or weren't thou's aware of his wish, of the
reasons behind his... lefting? His... going? His exile?"

4: "Of the reasons behind his leave. Or weren't thou's aware of his wish, of the reasons behind his
leave."

5: "...Yeah."

(Silence settles. Only then you hear the piercing giggles. Taking the socks off, you power through all the blinding
light and slam the door open. Of course, It's Two. The maid is cowering, bright red.)

2: "Are you... are you..."

5: "Hungry. Are you hungry. No, I never am, but when did that ever stop you?"

(And it doesn't. Covering her face, Two walks past you, carrying a black bag behind her legs you didn't notice
because her stockings are black too. She goes about taking stuff out of it and putting it on the table, as Four's
visor is fixed on her.)

4: "Oh! My humble servant! To what do I owe your nourishment?"

(Two produces a juicebox that presents to Four in needlessly elaborated posing. Hesitating, the knight
grabs it. Then Two takes the straw from behind the tiny box, stabs the top with it, then slides it through Four's
visor into were his mouth would be. Soon, as both you and Two stare at it, the sound of slurping fills the room.)

5: "Awfully convenient. Makes me wonder how eating works for him."

2: "He takes off the helmet. What did you expect???"

(You look at Four, who seems focused on the taste.)

5: "...Huh, so I am dissapointed."

2: "Why????"

(By the unpleasant sound, the juicebox is empty.)

4: "Maid as kind, I thank you for your warmth."

(Two smiles too widely as she looks away. Then, she takes a deep breath.)

2: "I am at your service, oh brave holy warrior of the skies! Oh! OH! Command this, your humble servant! Let
me clean your tears and- and let me take care of... oh god.. hahahHAHAICANT!"

(Four grabs his helmet with both hands.)

4: "NnnnooooooOOOOO!!"

5: "Two, mind getting me tea?"

(You smile 'gently' at the maid, who manages to nod as she struggles to catch her breath. She walks away,
leaving the bag there.)

5: "Take your time."

(The door closes. You sigh the sigh of overworked therapists- then glance to notice Four still grabbing his
helmet.)

5: "So... Why didn't you follow him? Jack."

4: "...Y-you promised."

5: "I'll catch my breath. Promise. So-"

(Vigorously, Four shakes the helmet.)

4: "You promised."

5: "And I delivered. Come on, we've been at this for a whole damn hour at least. I'm not that creative per se, it
takes a lot of effort-"

4: "You promised!"

(The desk shakes as Four slams both fists against it.)

(You gaze into the darkness of the visor, hoping to find something in it. Yet there's nothing; nothing you could
judge Four for in it, besides he punching your desk. It takes you a while, but you manage a smile.)

5: "Brave knight."

(Four looks up.)

5: "Why did you not follow Jack? Did you not know his demands? Or did you merely not act?"

4: "I did not act. For he could not see inside. Like you and everyone around."

5: "I see."

(You are still getting used to the light again, so your eyes wander towards the desk.)

5: "Had you not tried to keep him by? To tread his path? To stray around?"

4: "I did not try, for it is not I who had to abide. My nature, it is deep and stark; it is my heart others have to
guard. For I will not have an insensitive man- one who tires of trying, one who leaves me behind."

5: "So Jack left you behind because he couldn't put up with your shit. Interesting."

(Four appears to have frozen.)

>???

>>3148226
Tell him the role playing is intense and annoying for some people.

>>3148226
What if another Jack comes along? The front he puts up hurts himself far more than it hurts others.

>>3148226
He says he and Jack spoke with their feelings, that Jack was the only one who dared peer into his darkness; and yet, he claims Jack could not see inside, and was insensitive for giving up on their relationship.

And yet, he himself never tried to keep Jack around. Isn't that hypocritical of him? Why would Jack keep trying for someone who himself never had?

Even now, he expects everyone around him to abide by him, lest to break down in tears or fly off the handle. Is it chivalrous or knightly to place his wants before others', to be so self-centered?

>>3148300
>Tell Four RP is not for everyone.

(You rest up both elbows on the desk, then draw a cigarette from your front pocket.)

5: "Don't take offense, Four. Creativity and improvization are not natural to everyone. Me included."

(You blink fast as your eyes adapt to light, and lit the cigarette in the meantime.)

5: "I hope you can appreciate how long I kept up with it."

4: "You promised."

5: "And I delivered."

>>3148301
>Tell Four to consider alternatives.

5: "Another Jack could come along and you'll miss him because of your behavior. By withdrawing and
sulking like a kid, you are killing your chances. You can't buy something you don't see."

(Four looks away. Not even like this you can see his eyes. The darkness inside is too thick.)

4: "It doesn't matter. I don't want him."

5: "Why? You loved him. He was your squire."

4: "He didn't see. He can't see. That's why he left."

5: "You think Jack would stay if he saw the real you?"

4: "I don't need him if he can't see."

5: "Huh."

>>3148553
>Ask Four why he didn't try to keep Jack with him.)
(Four's visor is still not facing towards your general
direction.)

5: "So you've let him go. He couldn't see and that was it."

4: "...You promised."

5: "Did you try to teach him? Did you show yourself to him? Gave the guys any clues? Fucking hell, Four, do
you/ even know what /you/ are?"

4: "You can't teach people to see!"

5: "Have you tried?"

(Four stands at once. It startles you, but just barely.)

>???

>>3148737
What didn't he "see."

>>3149101
5: "What? What is it that he didn't see?"

(Four remains motionless, still standing in front of the desk.)

>???

>>3149912
Get him to open up.

>>3149912
Unfortunately, we can't telepathically know how others think and feel. No matter how we see ourselves, others can't understand anything more than we show them. That's why humans invented language - to communicate better with each other.

But language only works if we actually use it to say how we feel. He loved Jack with all his heart once; and yet he met Jack with 'wrath' and 'fire', and questioned why he was here with him.

Suppose their roles were reversed, and Jack had been the one who directed only anger and doubts of their relationship at him. What conclusion would he draw from these words and actions?

And right now? Right now, he's utterly silent. Does he expect us to know what he's thinking? We can't even read his expression, for god's sake. But he definitely knows what we're thinking - we're saying it straight out to his face, after all.

Persuade him that communication is important, that no relationship can survive without both sides trying to communicate.

>>3150250
>Get Four to open up.

5: "Four, I can only stop the bleeding if you show me where it hurts. I need to know what is it that you
wanted Jack to see. What you wanted me to see."

(Four simply stands there. It is creepy.)

5: "I can't see, sure. Let's go with that. But you can; so tell me."

4: "I can't tell you."

5: "Why?"

(That word came out with unexpected anger. Yet Four doesn't even budge.)

>>3150299
>Tell Four about communication.

5: "No one can read your mind, Four. Jack couldn't. I can't. Hell, I think you can't read your own mind either."

4: "You don't understand."

5: "There is always something lost in translation. That is why art is so difficult. Turning feelings into words
is as hard as carving stone into a statue."

4: "No, you don't understand."

5: "What?! What is it that I don't understand?"

(Now it's you that's standing too, meeting eyes with darkness. Yet Four remains there- falling back. You find
yourself staring too harshly, then stop.)

5: "We can only be judged by what we do, and talking is doing. That's how it works. You keep saying we
can't see you, but what is there to see? What did you do that we can judge other than stamping a dick to the
fucking 'Sunflowers', Four?"

4: "NOOOO! You don't understand! It's too deep for you!"

5: "But you DO understand me, Four. You DO know what I'm saying. English, motherfucker. You can speak it.
You can tell me what I can't see. I need to know!"

4: "I can't."

(You are shocked by his sudden change in voice, as if a different person was talking. Not another word out, Four
turns around and heads for the door.)

4: "I can't."

(And closes it behind him. Still standing, you take out the forgotten cigarette and put it in your mouth. You walk
towards the window. Your reflection burns the tip with the lighter.)

----------------------------
After a while, Two comes in. You don't know how long; you always forget about time when your mind is busy.
You don't even know what she's bringing until the tray is right in front of your face.

"So??? How did that went?" Two asks as she takes things from the tray.

You almost glare at her. After all, it's not her fault.

"Well enough," you say. "Got a few clues to work with. Apparently, there's a deadline, though."

You find yourself in front of a dinner of chicken and salad- along a cup of wine.

"Four- Two, I don't drink," you correct yourself. "I told you already."

"Aww, but that's for me!" Two says as she sits down. You sigh- she glares. "Come on, I'm tired too."

"So what do I drink?"

"We can share," Two whispers.

"Get me water," you command. "I won't even finish all this."

You watch her leave as you glance at your report. The bottom is almost a blank page until only two words:

AIM - SHOOT

Under AIM is a list of Four's symptoms that could lead to his problem, under SHOOT, ways you could convince him
to fix it- almost empty.

When Two comes back, she find you sipping from the cup of wine. She grins to your stare.

"I wanted to feel the taste," you state. "Is there a problem?"

"Nope. Not at all." Two sits.

You ignore the maid and focus back on the two big words. Figuring out the problem, how to fix it, and how to
convince the other to do it- you comprised the three parts into two. After all, at least in therapy, a solution is
useless if you can't get it into the other's head.

"So??? What was the problem?" Two asks, again. She takes the glass from your hand and gives it a sip.
"Indirect kiss, muhu."

>???

>>3151306
Hard headed man who believes he is always right.

>>3151556
Also a perfectionist, trying to control everyone.

>>3151306
He refuses to communicate with others, expecting them to automatically understand his thoughts and emotions - a mentality likely resulting from some event or series thereof during or prior to his relationship with-

No, wait. Two shouldn't be asking this. Or rather, we shouldn't be replying. Patient confidentiality and all that. We lose the confidence of our patients if it becomes known that we're liable to discuss their secrets with others.

He refuses to communicate with others, expecting them to automatically understand his thoughts and emotions - a mentality likely resulting from some event or series thereof during or prior to his relationship with Jack. Indeed, he explicitly view the armor he wears and likely the rest of his roleplaying tendencies as a way to hide himself from others.

It would be fine if he would be content to be alone and not understood, but he isn't. And yet, he's adamant that he cannot or will not attempt communication. Hopefully, our discussion with him had made him see some extent of the root of his grievances, but he's still clearly afraid to try. Perhaps fear of failure or rejection is holding him back. He's likely afraid to go through Jack a second time.

>>3151556
You squint at the maid. "Stubborn as hell..."

>>3152787
"A perfectionist..."

>>3152811
"And, well, an idiot," you finish, playing with the fork.

"Four??? A perfectionist?" Two wonders.

"Yup," you mumble. "Marcus said they get yelled a lot, since they can't get the art right. That would take... mind
reading powers, at the very least. Please tell me it isn't going to rain again."

But it wouldn't matter if she does. After all, the window is already tarnished. It's the only one, but big enough to
make up for it. You lose yourself staring at it, wondering what's the difference between being evil and stupid as
you walk towards it.

"I still don't know why I'm telling you this," you think aloud. "The Hippocratic Oath is anything but a joke. I'm
burning my own bridge."

Two walks to your side. "Becaaaausee, I won't tell anyone about this," she says. "Ever!"

You meet eyes with Two. "I cherish our secrets, Five," she says before winking.

You don't even sigh. Weather here is way worst than in Japan- and even the people are cold there.

"Four refuses to communicate his feelings," you start, annoyed, "but expects everyone else to guess them. He
gives no clues, yet thinks we can solve his riddle."

You draw a cigarette from your front pocket.

"Then gets mad when we can't," you state disdainfully, turning on the wooden lighter. "That is the power of
fantasy."

"Fantasy?" Two wonders.

"Fantasy," you repeat, as the tiny drums begin, "is a scapegoat for people who want to believe without
evidence. And I only wish they went for the obvious parts like flying carpets, because if they jumped from a
building with one it wouldn't be my job, nor my problem. But, no. They go for social interaction."

It's a quiet rain out there; 2Pac is taking a shower.

"I don't really get it," Two says, then laughs, "but Four looks so wounded, don't you think? Last time, he ran
away crying because I threw salt at him."

"Why did you do that?"

"One of the big brothers has a thing with gnomes or something," she says, shrugging. "He told me to do it. To
protect Four from bad luck."

You know the man. You've had him dig out a corpse to make a good luck charm.

"Another good example," you say aloud, nodding. "Folklore and old stories are also bricks you can build
madness with. All they need is an excuse to escape reality- and boom, another nutjob."

Two doesn't answer. She simply stares at the rain with you.

"It's going to get cold," Two complains, her reflection frowning.

"Cold chicken is fine," you answer. "And I'm sure fried salad doesn't make sense."

"It does, actually," Two says. "You can make balls of spinach or lettuce and then fry then. Add salt and there
you go, really tasty. I even add eggs sometimes."

"That completely defeats the purpose of green food," you observe, "but whatever. I'm not eating that."

Silently, Two puffs a cheek. A thunder booms. You are just glad roofs area thing.

"Fantasy isn't that bad, though," Two adds.

"And I'm surprised it's you that's saying that," Two points out, almost gasping. "You read a lot of books."

"Psychology, mostly, and most of those I haven't even touched," you answer.

Two squints her lips. "What if someone asks?"

"I'll admit it," you say, grinning. "Then I'd have won their trust."

"Or lost it."

Quietly, you glance at the maid. "You don't need to read Moby Dick to be a good therapist," you tell her. "That's the
point. And if they think otherwise, then at least I already know I'm dealing with an idiot."

Two puffs a cheek. "Books make you smarter."

You chuckle. "Yes. Four agrees. Someday, he'll save you from a dragon."

"Are you a dragon, Five?"

"Sharks can't be dragons," you reply fast. "And dragons have hoards, while all I have is a french maid I can't get
rid of."

"Sharks go out hunting," Two points out, using her finger repeatedly. "All you do is sit and be mean."

You turn to her, smiling with your sharp teeth. "Did you know sharks bite things out of curiosity? I do that all the
time."

Puffing her chest, the maid faces you with conviction. "Are you going to bite me, Five?" she asks.

"Metaphorically. Yes."

Two tilts her head. "Meta...???"

Just like a shark, you giggle in silence. "See?"

Two blinks and blinks. You look away. "Fantasy is how you support unjustified beliefs," you say, calmly, "so that
you don't have to worry about reality, so that you don't have to grow. If I'm the great shark-knight Quintus, then
why worry about rent or other factions? That, until I get robbed," you say, thoughtfully, "and realize I can't shoot
water beams out of my ass."

Like a lost spring, Two stretches arms to her sides."Then how come???" she asks.

"What?"

"How come you can talk like that so much???" Two asks, almost pleadingly.

Your eyes slide, from, her, towards the sky. "Oh," you mumble. "Let's just say I used to read too."

"Is that so? So wha-"

"They drove me nuts," you interrupt her. "And I didn't like it. I like it better here, in reality."

Two tilts her head to the side, like a lost puppy. You scoff at her.

"I'm already in deep shit with you," you admit, less than warmly, "so I can't go any deeper."

She just stares.

"I'm very," you confess "good with a sword."

----------------------------

aight guys, im ending the thread here but ill move on to the next right after thisone sinks
im getting a job soon, so I'll finally set a stable schedule to run properly instead of this "one update a day" bullshit
and because a little organization can't hurt, i'll set up a twatter
any ideas for it

>>3153475
Ideas for the Twitter or quest?

>>3153482
both lol

>>3153758
I don't use Twitter, so can't help you there. Congrats on the job, just run when you got the time.

>>3153767
tnks mon!
isnt 1 update a day
like
too slow lol?

>>3153793
This board is fairly slow, the quest could last. Other option is to write on the weekend or whenever you have a long stretch of time.

>>3153793
Update as frequently or infrequently as fits you, real life always comes first.

I honestly don't mind a slow pace for this quest that much, since thinking over clients' problems calls for quite a bit more consideration between posts than other quests, where votes more often come down to which plot hook to follow or waifu to talk to and can be chosen in a matter of moments.

>>3153853
i was thinking
like
slow posting on weekdays
and full throttle on weekends
with a fixed schedule so you guys know when to expect updates
i wanna write lol

>>3153884
then
during weekdays
ill post stuff you guys have to think over
and save the small talk for weekends
like
weedays: single heavy updates
weends: machinegun