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The same smog cloud that had circled around last week had returned. It hung close to the windows of the battered and dilapidated shops, yet never descended further to choke the people below. Had it been sentient, it would have been issuing a threat, an ultimatum to those at ground level. They were but a few feet away from a painful, drawn out end via a cancerous lung should it reach them. Not that anyone, including yourself, would have taken the threat to heart; it already too common in the Hole.

A dead body in an alleyway, shattered glass on the street, muffled screams just close enough to hear, such things were all commonplace. No one batted an eye to the starved look of the straggler under a bridge, or the mutilated hands of a beggar off the path to work or leisure. Dwelling on it would incite misery. To attempt to change it would have been delusional. If anything, that cloud of smog was merely a perfect match for the rest of the urban sprawl.

At least, you thought so as you made your way to the tram station along with the dozen or so people around you. It was a monotonous routine, something you'd seen and done hundreds of times, and would do hundreds more. The crowd cramming you must have thought the same thing, as you recognized a few of them. The hooded jacket of a miscreant from the east end, the beanie covered head of a junkie from Migimaru and the slimy, cephalopoid scalp of a victim of the sorcerers you'd seen near Chip's.

It was a bad habit, to remember the patterns of so many people you'd never meet, much less speak to. You would have ignored it, had the same discolored shops and ramshackle streets not inclined you to find a distraction. With the smog close overhead though, it almost made you reconsider all the way to the tram station. These people had nothing to offer you besides another pay-day, if they could even afford that much.

As the corroded metal and faded glass of the tram station's covering appeared, you made sure to tighten your gloves and belt hard. The wait wouldn't be too long, as the trams were always on time somehow, but there were always more pickpockets at the station. It made more sense to steal from people standing still than moving around. Your precautions wouldn't stop them, but it would make the attempt take just that much longer. In a way, you were almost hoping they would try.

You could already hear a yelp from the back of the crowd. They had begun earlier than expected, as the people were still huddling around the tram station. They were unusually sloppy today, normally their targets wouldn't even notice much less yell out. From where you stood, those thieves probably wouldn't reach you by the time the tram arrived. Not that you even had much to steal that wasn't heavily belted down.

You gave an annoyed sigh as you turned back to road. The tram would soon be here to take you to the new job site, where Saya would wait with that naive smile of hers. Those yelps then turned to screams.

<Continued>
>>
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<Continued>

"LET ME GO! SISTER! PLEASE, SOMEONE!"

You'd turned around faster than the others in the crowd, finding the scream had come from a now struggling young man. He looked about five years younger than Saya, basically a child given his scrawny stature. The person holding him was a woman, yet she had an imposing, grizzled visage and looked a head taller than the kid. She was pulling him away from the crowd, her left arm holding him by the neck while she held out a bloodied machete at the crowd with the other.

"SHUT UP! AND ALL OF YOU GET BACK!"

The crowd had quickly parted away as she showed her bloodied instrument. Some of them merely standing in shock, while the smarter ones almost stampeding towards the tram station. The sudden and violent movement of the crowd almost made you lose footing. As they cleared from the front, you stood firm to see a grim revelation in their wake. Another woman lay in a growing pool of blood, a single gouging wound stuck right where her heart and lung would have been.

"Hey, let him go!"

Another yell rang out from the crowd, an older man's voice that moved fast to the front. He looked about your age, though not a single bit of facial hair lined his face, and was brandishing what looked like a knife. From where you stood, it may as well have been a butter spreader with how small it looked. Nevertheless, this one person stood out from the crowd and made a dash straight for the kidnapper. How much more of an idiot could he have been?

He'd given away the element of surprise with that stupid declaration as the woman was no facing straight at him. He could have sliced the kidnapper's throat by he'd spoken up, saved that kid and walked away a hero like he probably imagined himself in his delusional mind. You only hoped his father and mother weren't here to see their son die in such a wasteful way.

"YOU WANNA DIE THAT BAD?!"

The woman's body twisted around, building up centrifugal force, before delivering a kick to her would be attacker. Steel plated boots connected to the man's head, instantly stopping his charge and smashing meat and bone. The would-be-hero's head was pulverized like an egg against counter-top, his body twitching slightly as he laid near the onlooking crowd. The woman gave another glare to the crowd as she wiped the gristle of the man's brains against the concrete.

Those in the crowd that were standing in fear now ran at the wordless threat. More violent movement attempted to make you lose footing again. She gave a satisfied smile to the crowd, before moving back again with the struggling kid. Then, she let out a scream as you saw that kid bite right into her arm.

"ARRGH! YOU LITTLE BASTARD!"

She raised the handle of the machete against his head and began to savagely beat him with it. But even still, he wasn't letting go of her. This had become such a miserable spectacle, as your mind began to dwell on the situation.
>>
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>>4376283

>Ignore, this isn't your business, just turn back and wait for the tram
>Intimidate, talk her down and see if you focus her on you
>Intervene, try to engage her directly but in a smarter manner
>Write In
>>
>>4376287
>Intervene, try to engage her directly but in a smarter manner
>>
>>4376287
>>Ignore, this isn't your business, just turn back and wait for the tram
>>
>>4376287
>Ignore, this isn't your business, just turn back and wait for the tram
>>
>>4376287
>Intervene, try to engage her directly but in a smarter manner
>>
>>4376287
>Intervene, try to engage her directly but in a smarter manner
>>
>>4376287
>Intervene, try to engage her directly but in a smarter manner
>>
>>4376287
>Ignore, this isn't your business, just turn back and wait for the tram
>>
>>4376287
>Ignore, this isn't your business, just turn back and wait for the tram
>>
>>4376287
>Intervene, try to engage her directly but in a smarter manner
>>
>>4376287
>Write In
Forgot to include this.
Sneak up to grab the knife, then stab her in the neck while she's distracted. The knife should be close.
>>
>>4376364
>>4376447
>>4376455
>>4376487
>>4376584
OOC: Just got back home, writing.

>Intervene, try to engage her directly but in a smarter manner

5 for this, we'll go with it.

>>4376591
Sure, we'll got with that.
>>
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>>4376630

'I can't bear to look anymore.'

Your temples shook with a feeling of dread as the thought crossed your mind. It had been momentary, so quick that you'd blinked while the nostalgic anxiety took a hold of your head. It wasn't something you wanted to dwell on: that idea that you had to do something. Was it really a sense of heroism or just a want to be superior to the corpse nearby?

It wasn't something to contemplate, as reality returned to your head while the panicked crowd continued to move around you. You had just stood there, immobile and unflinching as they had briskly moved past you like a statue. It didn't stop your eyes, or head, as you stared intently at the would-be-hero's hand. That small knife was still in his hand, rigor mortis no doubt holding it for him.

With the woman's attention centered on that kid, as she continued to beat into him, and the crowd continuing to empty out away from her, this couldn't have been a better chance to do something. It wasn't your fight, it had nothing to do with you, and all options pointed to following that crowd. Yet, that feeling of dread moved you forward towards the weapon.

'Chip is going to chew me out for being late, that shit never happens...'

You supposed there was a first time for everything.

>Roll 1d20 to Sneak Attack
>>
Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>4376642
>>
Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>4376642
is it bo3?
>>
Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>4376642
>>
>>4376657
>>4376659
>>4376660

> 6+3+12 = 21

Writing

OOC: Rolls will be cumulative for the first 3 this time around. Sorry, should have said it sooner.
>>
>>4376642
Can we loot the machete, the boots, the tiny knife, and whatever is in the killer's pockets?

>he
>kid
I thought the kid she grabbed was a little girl.
>>
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>>4376663
<Bare Success - DC: 19>

The crowd continued to move erratically around you, while you pushed past towards the man's corpse. You could maybe take that woman head on with your crowbar if it was just that machete to worry about. With the added danger of those boots, and probable martial arts training, you were going to need every advantage to take her down. And you needed to act fast, as the last dregs of the crowd were beginning to whittle down.

The panicked shouting from the crowd, as well as their single minded desire to get away from the scuffle, had made the perfect mask for your movements however. The continued shouts of struggling and wood slamming against skull continued to be heard as the last of the crowd had left the incident area. She hadn't noticed you through your travel to the front, nor had she heard you pry the knife from the dead man's hand.

It was a folding knife with a well varnished handle, yet it was so small that your hand almost overreached the handle. You'd honestly not held a knife outside of preparing a meal, as it felt almost foreign in your hand. Death and murder were commonplace here, almost a natural consequence of living within the Hole. Yet, you had yet to commit one that wasn't in self-defense.

Holding the blade's handle tight, you quickly moved to the woman's side not a few feet away. With her attention still drawn to the kid, you could easily take advantage of her blind-spots near the corners of her vision. Running and sneaking were skills you'd developed since before arriving here, and you were at her side in seconds.

"You little shit! YOU'D BETTER ONLY BE UNCONSCIOUS DAMNIT!

Yet, while you had been fast enough to avoid her vision, you weren't fast enough to arrive faster than the kid losing consciousness. Several trickles of blood ran along his forehead and temples, his hair no doubt hiding a sizable cut or bruising on his scalp. It was at a glance however, as you were more focused on getting the blade to the kidnapper's neck. With a single whip of your arm and a running lunge, you slashed straight for her.

"Who the-GGGIAAAAGHHHH!!"

The scream from her had certainly registered as a hit and you were somewhat pleased you'd succeeded where that idiot had so pathetically failed. Turning back to your handiwork, you'd expected to see the woman clutching her open throat in a vain attempt to stem her draining blood. You instead saw her clutching her now split, bleeding left cheek as she turned her machete towards you. The adrenaline from her agony and rage were bubbling up like a volcano as her trembling hand was ready to rip you appart.

'At least she dropped that kid.'

Not that he could feasibly get away, being unconscious and all. You'd no more time to think on your attempt at a moral deed, as the woman gritted her teeth like a vicious dog before charging straight for you. There were two guesses on where the attack would come from, and only one would see you alive.
>>
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>>4376703

>The machete, retrieve your crowbar and block it.
>The boots, try to catch or defend against them
>Fuck it, try to dodge out of the way even if you receive a glancing blow
>Write In

>>4376702
OOC: I stated he was a young man earlier. The main character just thinks of him a kid since he's so scrawny.
>>
>>4376712
>The machete, retrieve your crowbar and block it.
>>
>>4376712
>>The machete, retrieve your crowbar and block it.
>>
>>4376714
>>4376775

>The machete, retrieve your crowbar and block it.

2 for this, writing.
>>
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>>4376785

The heavy blade in her hand was already brandished with a swift motion for your arms. If she was as experienced in a fight as you thought, then she wouldn't lose the momentum of the swing to kick you. At least, you hoped that wasn't the case as the speed of advance wouldn't give you a chance to react if you were mistaken. You had to take a gamble.

You dropped the knife, as you'd need the open palm to grip the latch on the side of your sash. The Velcro gave way with a rip as you undid your crowbar's holder and reached for it with your left arm. The reactive speed of your action was fast enough to motion for a block against against her blade. Given the frontal motion of her torso, the lunge against you was no doubt going to come from the machete.

You'd answered the attack correctly. Now, the questions remained if you would have enough strength to hold against her blow and the speed to react to her assault.

>Roll 1d20 to Block
>>
Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>4376801
>>
Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>4376801
>>
Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>4376801
>>
>>4376810
shit
>>
>>4376803
>>4376804
>>4376810

>16+8+1 = 25

Writing
>>
>>4376703
>Yet, you had yet to commit one that wasn't in self-defense.
So we've already killed a person before. Nice.

>>4376814
I don't think we need to worry about critical fails on a 1. I think it's only a matter of how much you succeed or fail against the DC.
>>
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>>4376817
<Failure - DC: 31> <DISABLED: LEGS>

Both hands were on your crowbar as you steeled yourself for the incoming attack. The woman's face was nearly feral with how much blood and growls flowed from her mouth.The machete's heavy blade swung straight for your left side, heading straight for your arm as you'd predicted. The angle was narrow, but at her distance you knew the distance would be short enough to stop. So, you twisted your body to meet it faster.

The crowbar's reinforced steel met her machete's blade with a short spark. The sheer strength behind the strike almost made your arms buckle. You'd vastly underestimated this woman's sheer strength, though now that you had a better look at her it seemed too obvious. The long sleeves on the hoodie she wore had just barely hidden the musculature of her upper body.

It wasn't a freakish amount of muscle, but it was enough that it was managing to overpower your own strength. All the while, the warm spray of blood from the blade and the woman's face hit you dead on. You hoped that your own blood wouldn't be soon to follow as a spatter, as you managed a hard kick to her midsection to get her to pull away from the clash.

The sound of a rib snapping from your kick could be heard beyond the howling, growls from her mouth. Much to your relief, she let out a yelp of pain as she seemed to pull away from the clash of weapons. In fact, she dropped the machete to the ground with a metallic clatter. You almost sighed in relief, before you felt a tug at your leg still stretched to her midsection.

You thought she had doubled over in pain, yet she had in fact just reached for your leg with both arms. One of her arms held it well outstretched, while the other curled in to bring the elbow straight to your femur.The action had caught you by such surprise that you'd barely had enough time to raise your crowbar over her head before you heard another bone snap.

A searing pain erupted from your left leg, as you witnessed it bend at a nearly 90 degree angle from the woman's attack. You let out a howl of pain as you dropped to the ground from the agony and lack of balance. There was an attempt to pathetically clutch your leg, to attempt to stem the flow of blood from the broken skin and jutting bone. It would be the least of your worries in a moment, as you saw the woman reach for the machete laying nearby.

"Don't start a fight you can't finish."

It was the last words you heard from her, before she raised the machete over her head to deliver a killing blow. You had no way of reaching for the crowbar, much less blocking in your situation. This was it, you were about to die because of a stupid decision you made on whim. You were sure you'd be kicking yourself all the way to hell.

"Erika! Leave him, we're late as is!"

A man's voice rang out beyond your sight, as you heard the woman growl in response while putting the machete away. The shuffling of her feet on the concrete indicated she was moving away.
>>
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>>4376882

>Get away, to the tram station
>Call out for help, as soon as they're gone of course
>Sit up, try to see where they went
>Write In
>>
>>4376887
>Sit up, try to see where they went
>>
>>4376887
>Get away, to the tram station
man nothing kills a quest faster than a first thread abject failure
>>
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>Get away, to the tram station
Hell yeah, Dorohedoro quest
>>
>>4376887
>Sit up, try to see where they went
>>
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>>4376913
>>4376944
>>4376971
>>4376976

OOC: I'll tally up the total when I get back from work tomorrow around 6 PM EST.

Thanks for playing guys.
>>
>>4376887
>>Sit up, try to see where they went
>>
>>4377039
>Sit up, try to see where they went
>>
>>4376887
>Get away, to the tram station
>>
>>4376913
>>4376976
>>4377392
>>4377396

4 for sitting up.

Writing.
>>
>>4378276

The sound of heavy soles, and the occasional drip of blood, began to move further away from you. The blinding pain in your left leg was making it difficult to notice, but it was dampened by the adrenaline still rushing to your head. Silently thanking whatever lucky devil had managed to save your life, you gave a grunt of effort to attempt to sit up. Maybe that devil hadn't left you yet, as you tried to press your luck.

Effort into ignoring the pain was bad enough, but trying to move even slightly was akin to lining acid into your veins. You were biting into your lip hard enough to draw blood as you raised yourself up to a sitting position. With the support of your arms, you reclined to what could pass as heavy discomfort before staring straight at the moving figures.

The woman looked so much bigger from your current position, those heavy boots certainly helped to make her look like it. Her clothes had been so stained with blood and grime at the front you could only tell the colors apart from behind. And that machete now clung to a sheathe on her back, slung over her shoulder like you'd done with your crowbar, though not as dirtied or frayed. She looked like a common thug from some of the rougher areas of the city, yet that companion of hers certainly wasn't.

He was standing far from the edge of the sidewalk, almost to the boarded up shops, and was looking straight at the woman. The extravagant leather jacket, with shoulders studded with metal rivets and jewels, and blackened designer jeans put him at odds with the environment and people of the Hole. On his back, he carried what looked like a black box or carrying case large enough that it rose over his masked head. Yes, that was the dead giveaway to his foreign identity.

'A sorcerer...'

It appeared made of cloth, with moulded plastic jutting from its cheeks akin to a fish's scales. It extended to cover his neck, and the only visible part of his face were his two green eyes contrasting the dark cloth. His eyes then turned his attention to the kid, quickly running to him and picking him up in a bridal style. The woman was at his side in a second and quickly took the kid from his arms.

"You're gonna have to get Koto to look at that. I'll make an excuse for you."

The man spoke as he pressed a finger to her still bleed cheek. The woman didn't seem to respond, only sigh in what you thought could be shame. As he pulled his fingers away from her face, his eyes landed squarely on you. You stared directly into them, while he looked at you like a dissecting specimen. For a moment, you could swear you saw a small smirk pressing through the cloth of his mask.

He quickly turned his gaze away from you and pointed a finger to the shops. From its direction, an heavy, black smoke erupted and coalesced into a rectangular shape taller than the man. From it, a large, wrought iron door, with patterns of sea-life, emerged.

'They're going to get away...'
>>
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>>4378321

>Shout, pop a question or cuss them out <Write In>
>Help, call out to anyone for help
>Crawl, get away from this yourself
>Write in
>>
>>4378322
>Shout, pop a question or cuss them out <Write In>
Who are you? Why even all this today?
YOUR FRIEND HAS NICE FUCKING TITS!
>>
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OOC: Poor showing tonight, will try again tomorrow if there's more votes.

Keep in mind, I can only update in the evening during week days because of work. Otherwise, expect updates to be around 1 hr to 30 min depending on context size per post.

Will tally these up tomorrow after 6 PM EST.

>>4378382
Thank you anon for voting tonight.
>>
>>4378322
>Help, call out to anyone for help
>>
>>4378322
>>4378382
Support.
>>
>>4378322
Let me taste the sweat of your armpits.
If there gonna leave we might as well unsettle them.
>>
>>4378382
>>4378625
>>4378883

3 for this

>Shout, pop a question or cuss them out

Including write ins for it, writing.
>>
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>>4379557

"HEY! Who are you?"

The words had left your mouth before you had much time to think. It was more impulse than anything that compelled you to ask. As well as some vain hope that your words would slow down their advance to the door. There had been enough stupidity from you today, so perhaps whatever karma still existed would pity you enough for a hand out. It didn't, as there was no acknowledgement for your question as the woman pulled the door's latch open.

"Why even all this today?!"

You spoke again without thinking. The question's significance could have easily been for yourself, given the state of regret in your head. It was almost comical in how you said it. You hadn't meant to sound as desperate as you did, yet you heard a bit of your voice crack at that. It was honestly pitiable, but incoherence was becoming more the norm in your head at this moment. Still though, the pair didn't spare you a glance as the woman had now passed through the open door.

Beyond the door's frame and wrought iron exterior, you peered at what looked like a cobblestone pathway leading through a forest station. It was their world, the vibrant green contrasted to the pale gray of the Hole. It was almost mocking to look at, yet it was more mocking to see that woman pass the threshold with that kid in hand. You'd already failed in whatever deluded objective you'd set out to accomplish. So your mind turned to the juvenile, at an attempt to give your tormentors a metaphorical shiner for the road.

"YOUR FRIEND HAS NICE FUCKING TITS!"

Again, spoken without much thought. It was probably more of a compliment than an insult, as the woman's breasts were outstanding in shape and size. Had it been to throw off that man with something that outrageous or to genuinely incite a feeling of anger in him? You certainly hadn't considered it. To your surprise though, the man with the scaled mask stopped before he stepped through the door.

"You couldn't have lost that much blood to deprive oxygen to your brain, right?"

"LET ME TASTE THE SWEAT OF YOUR ARMPITS!"

Had you said that? It had been a thought in your head a moment ago, yet you'd shouted it true like calling an out during baseball. Maybe the man was wrong and your brain was probably losing a bit too much blood to communicate clearly to your vocal chords. Whatever the case was, the man's eyes narrowed in an un-amused stare and simply turned his head back to the door.

"Definitely brain damaged. This city deserves people like you."

The man's crossed the door's threshold after speaking and the door closed itself right behind him. Vanishing into a few wisps of smoke, the door disappeared from existence along with any trace of those two. All that was left of their insidious act were the two corpses in the street and your damaged body. No one was saved, you had one less leg but at least the tram-

A rattling, metal sound rang behind you, as you turned to see the tram depart from the station.

'Shit.'
>>
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>>4379612

>Crawl, try to catch up but this will hurt
>Call, yell and shout for someone to help you
>Fuck it, just lay down and rest for a bit
>Write in
>>
>>4379621
>Crawl, try to catch up but this will hurt
>>
>>4379621
Loot the bodies. Might as well. We're gonna need to pay for the broken leg some how. Whatever of values they might have, wallets, purse, weapons.

>>4379629
>catch up to the tram with a broken leg
lol what now?
>>
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OOC: Better turnout tonight, hopefully we'll be able to get another vote before the night's over for tomorrow's update.

I'll tally up the votes at the same time tomorrow, 6 PM EST.

Thanks again for voting anon.
>>4379629
>>4379633
>>
>Call, yell and shout for someone to help you
>>
>>4379789
That's a trippy as hell manga
>>
>>4379621
>Write In
>Loot the bodies
>>
>>4380132
>>4379633

2 for looting the bodies. Writing
>>
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>>4380735

Had both of your legs been undamaged, you could have managed to catch up to the tram. Its speed was almost glacial whenever it pulled out of the station, letting some commuters a free ride if they could hang on for the trip. It only made that gnawing knot in your stomach curl harder. If there was a word for kicking a man while he was down, you probably would have preferred it to not making it to your job site. You stretched out to grab your crowbar, and stored it back to its holster.

"Goddamnit..."

The words were exhaled in pure frustration, making you wince as it added to your broken leg's pain. Chip was more than certainly going to give you a black eye for this one. Not to mention, how Saya was going to react to when she heard about the fight. None of that was going to matter though, if you bled like an animal. You took a quick scan of your surroundings, watching out if anymore people were coming. Thankfully, the only moving figures seemed to be on the other side of the street.

'All the shouting must have freaked them out...gives me all the more time then...'

Though you had no shame in looting a body, you were more watching out for anyone else interested in the spoils. Fixing your gaze back to the closest body, you moved to grab the man who'd held the knife. It was a short crawl, but it was nonetheless agonizing when your reached him a few feet away. The man's long sleeve polo and jacket were stained with blood and grime, but you'd only need a few strips for a tourniquet.

You thankfully picked up his knife again, and now started to cut and tear strips of cloth from his body. You didn't need to be too precise, only quick to stem further loss of blood. After cutting away for what seemed like ten of those strips, you quickly wound them together to a larger, thicker strap right below your knee. Taking in a deep breath to calm your nerves, you pulled hard against the two ends and tied them with a screwdriver from your belt. It was excruciating, blinding even, but you managed to at least stop the flow.

You didn't give yourself time to rest however, as you turned the dead man over for valuables. Still keeping an eye out for any other looters, you looked over his pockets first. They were mostly empty, except for his wallet, which was also empty save for two coupons for a massage parlor in the west end of the Hole. Jacket pockets revealed the same, except for his house keys and an identity card that was for whatever factory the poor bastard worked at.

'Carry light, avoid getting mugged. Street smart, but no common sense to avoid a fight.'

After your silent judgement, and disappointment, you turned your head to the dead woman. Her body was a few meters away, almost to the end of the pavement to where the shop's entrances began. Was the kid referring to her as his sister? You didn't really care too much, as you began to made your way to her body. At least, you had started to before you heard the sound of metallic tapping approaching.
>>
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>>4380778

>Go for it, loot the last body
>Hide, behind the station if you can make it
>Diplomacy, try to appeal to whoever is coming
>Write In
>>
>>4380782
>Write In
If we have to, would the crowbar make for a decent splint for the broken leg?
See who is approaching?
>>
>Go for it, loot the last body
>>
>>4380858
support
>>
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Still only 2 tonight, oh well. We'll continue on tomorrow at 6 PM EST like today.

Will tally up votes when I get back from work.


>>4380788
>>4380858

Thanks again for voting anon.
>>
>>4380934

OOC: Oh, nvm then. We'll hopefully no one will shake up the results tomorrow;
>>
>>4380858
Supporting. In for a penny, in for a pound.
>>
>>4380858
+1
Worth the risk at least, ね?
>>
>>4381385
>>4380858
>>4380934
>>4381167

4 for looting

Writing
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>>4381840

The taps were a ring of hollow steel against the rotting wood of the remaining benches near the sidewalk. The rhythm it carried seemed almost jovial, accented by the plastic steps of sneaker soles. As the sound approached, the voices of youth and malice followed them right along. You didn't need to listen or look to recognize what had made such ominous sounds.

'Speaking of getting mugged...'

You pushed yourself forward even faster. The pain in your leg was increasing substantially with every inch you crawled towards your target. You knew that you needed to get to the body before they arrived. There were any number of stories to make up and places to hide you loot if they got to you. But there'd be nothing stopping them if they got to her first.

The body was mere inches away as you heard those footsteps and tapping metal begin to round the last bench before your end of the sidewalk. You'd have seconds to look through, and even then you'd have to guess for it. Hopefully, those idiots would leave you alone if you succeeded.

>Roll 1d20 to Quickly Loot
>>
Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>4381860
>>
Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>
Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>4381860
>>
>>4381882
>>4381886
>>4381900

13 + 20 + 8 = 41

Writing
>>
>>4381860
>Hopefully, those idiots would leave you alone if you succeeded.
That's stupid thinking. I kinda hope the character gets crippled some more. Nothing says fun like paying crippling debt and getting our shit kicked in.
>>
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>>4381902

<Great Success - DC: 28> < GAINED: 200 Nick = 300 Nick>

There was little time to look at the woman's appearance in detail, as you went for the first pocket you spotted on her jeans. Your hand, adept at fixing the minute wires for electrical panels and machinery, were more than a match for her cramped pocket. Thankfully, your initial guess had netted you the woman's wallet, which was stacked with a few hundred Nick notes at the edges.

You wasted no time in opening up your work jumpsuit, only up to the chest though, before quickly stuffing the wallet into an inner pocket. Muggers and thieves always looked for the superficial, only thoroughly searching you if they knew you were already dead. You hoped, with the remaining optimism in your mind, that the ones approaching were the grab-and-dash variety and not the kill-and-take variety.

'Hope the tapping is from bling and not baseball bats...'

The thoughts didn't slow down your finger work as you looked through the woman's back pockets. At first, you'd found nothing except dryer lint, but then your finger pressed against a thin, hardened object on the right side. It felt like another identity card, yet it was cold like steel. Quickly working your fingers against the rim of the pocket, you loosened the item from the deep crevice and into your hand.

Quickly scanning it, the item was indeed a card yet it was composed of an shiny, silver metal that had some kind of engraving on it. You had almost thought it looked like an odd letter or character, but it was actually the head of some kind of animal with large horns jutting from its head. You could only speculate on what it was, before pocketing it as well in your suit's hidden section. Your hand was reaching back to the body's final pocket, when those steps began evening out near the sidewalk.

You didn't even look at what your grabbed from that pocket, only reaching in and violently stuffing the contents into your inner pocket. You laid on your stomach as you quietly zipped your suit's front while the surprised words and impressed whistles resounded behind you. It was still painful to move, but you will your body to your back to see the source of the noise. True enough, a small gang of five or so youths, the eldest of them probably not older than seventeen, were staring at the scene of the assault.

None of them looked armed though, save for the eldest one who carried a dented baseball bat with a spiked head. Their matching bandannas and heavy trench hoodies were a dead give away to you as to who they were though. These kids were more opportunists than violent criminals, poor but not psychopathic. They were those pickpockets that hounded the station, but were surprisingly late today. You were about to sign praises to that lucky devil, before their leader spoke up.

"Hey, old man! You need some help there?"

All of their gazes landed squarely on you at the same time. Some of them looking wary, others grinning with curiosity at your body.
>>
>>4381930

>Bribe, buy off their good graces into helping you out
>Intimidate, threaten them into leaving you alone
>Appeal, try and see if you can actually get them to help you
>Write In
>>
>>4381932
>Appeal, try and see if you can actually get them to help you
These kids don't seem to me like the type who would appreciate the generosity of someone they're about to rob.

Also, QM, what are the options in this world for someone who's lost a leg? And how effective at treating amputation is the medicine we'd have access to?
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>>4381946
OOC: Medicine and medical service is modern in the Hole, but very ramshackle as it is an industrial slum. Depending on where you go in the city, you could get a good enough surgeon to fix up your leg and be able to walk again.

Or end up in some back alley clinic where you could have your organs harvested. Everything else in between really, but there's also magic that can heal people but you'd have to find and convince rare sorcerers for that.
>>
>>4381932
>Appeal, try and see if you can actually get them to help you
>>
>>4381946
>>4381983

OOC: Fuck it, I'll do one more.

2 for Appeal.

Writing.
>>
>>4381952
Alright. Considering our situation, the right move here might be to amputate the leg. It seems likely the leg could get infected or worse before we find a surgeon who's not running a human chop shop, and a suitable prosthetic would probably be easier to get our hands on. (Plus I think it'd be cool to play a character with a prosthetic)
>>
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>>4382001

You hated dealing with kids, especially the underage kind. In any other situation, this lot wouldn't have even bothered trying to mess with you. You knew their type, more likely to run the moment someone pulled out a real weapon. But this wasn't a common situation, as you were more compromised than you'd ever been since you had arrived to this city. A dying beast, trying to prevent the maggots from eating its flesh.

If you tried to bribe them off, there was no telling how honest they were willing to be when placated. If you tried to intimidate them, you might convince a few but not the one with the bat. It was a disgusting sensation to be held hostage by people who should have no sway over you. But you would need to be as diplomatic as you could, given the circumstances.

These kids were poor, living off of whatever they could scrap by and most were probably already without parents. If one of them knew about Chips or even your work in the residential areas, maybe it could serve as good leverage. Whatever kind of angle you wished to speak to them through, it would have to be fast as they seemed to be approaching you. No, they were surrounding you.

"Well, old man? That leg sure looks like it hurts."

>Appeal to them! (Write In - Most convincing will lessen DC to beat)
>Roll1d20 for Diplomacy
>>
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OOC: Last update for the evening, good turn out this time. Hopefully we can keep up this momentum for next evening.

Thank anon for contributing, and we'll be back again tomorrow at 6 PM EST. Will tally up votes afterwards as always.
>>
>>4382020
rolling for death
>>
Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>4382020
please kill the character or at least cripple him some more
>>
Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>
Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>
>>4382020
>Appeal to them! (Write In - Most convincing will lessen DC to beat)
I didnt know we were supposed to write something.
So they're poor and opportunistic. Probably dont have anyone but themselves and probably no parents. At least no parents by blood. They might have "parental figures" but that's generous.
Man are they lucky they missed the sorcery bitch that did this. She was absolutely rabbit.
I dont know what job we have, or we would had if we were on time for the interview, but we probably blew it. If any one of them is smart enough they could probably "steal" what would had been our job position from us. Pick pocketing is one thing, but a reliable income is another. They'll probably be getting peanuts, but until our leg fully heals we can probably teach them shit about being an electrician. Like how to steal electricity from your neighbors so you dont gotta pay squat.
>>
>>4382166
>>4382227
>>4382293

5 + 9 + 14 = 28

Writing. Since no Write Ins were presented, the DC will remain unchanged.

>>4382418
OOC: Sorry, this doesn't count as a write in since you didn't write out the character's dialogue. So the DC will remain unchanged.
>>
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>>4382966
<Bare Failure - DC: 29>

"You think so?"

A bit of sarcasm hung on your words as you gave a glance to your leg and back to the pickpockets' leader. It had been somewhat unintentional, probably to make light of the situation given the tone of his initial question. He responded with a raised eyebrow and a joking grin, no doubt sizing you up. Given how quick his reaction was, he wasn't expecting you to put up a fight if things got violent.

"We can call up a friend of our if you want her to take a look. Runs a small hospital on the far side of the east tenements."

Some of his friends aped his response, nodding their heads or making joking remarks about the cleanliness of the hospital. Though, you could still see a part of a sly grin to his face as he stated this.

"But?"

You had raised an eyebrow yourself, with not an inch of your trust on his drag offer. To your expectation, his grin grew fully visible.

"Well, you gotta spread a wealth a bit if you have a job you know? Look out for the people of the Hole, the less fortunate, you know?"

A twitch in your brows signaled your restraint. Anger welled in your stomach, but you knew there wasn't much else you could do in your situation if you were going to negotiate with these kids.

'Conniving little shit, saying that while he's still got two legs.'

As the anger subsided, you gave out a sigh of defeat and shook your head. There was still a part of you that wanted to refuse, but you knew it was probably futile. Pride wasn't something that was going to feed you tomorrow or pay off Chip's little living tax he posted on your head. You were about ask the gang leader to name his price, before the voice of one his underlings shouted off in a panic.

"Yo, Grant! I think this was...Kitten's sister!"

The leader, Grant, turned over to where his underling had shouted. You saw the kid point at the woman's face, which was frozen in a state of abject terror and pain. It was an aspect of the corpse you'd avoided earlier, more out of fear and superstition. You'd always been taught to never look at the dead's eyes, as it always brought on misfortune.

Grant made his way away from you, as the other pickpockets gave him space and found better places to look. Loose chatter of speculation and worries filled the air around you, as Grant turned the body over. After he did, you saw his face twist in pain and disgust as if someone had just punched him in the stomach. It then turned to concern, as he opened up her jacket as if he was looking for something.

Sure enough, he pulled out a long, pronged object from it and looked it over.

"Battery is still full...goddamn it. Took her by surprise...FUCK!"

He flung his baseball bat to the ground, making his underlings jump. A few of them got close, no doubt to try to console him but he just pushed them away and turned straight to you. Clear, murderous intent bore into you from him, as he knelt in close to you.

"Who did this? And you'd better hope it wasn't you."
>>
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>>4383021

>Truth, tell them everything that happened including the looted bodies
>Half-Truth, tell them everything that happened but not the looting
>Total Lie, deny everything you know and reveal nothing
>Write In
>>
>>4382966
>OOC: Sorry, this doesn't count as a write in since you didn't write out the character's dialogue. So the DC will remain unchanged.
Sounds like weak bullshit. Nice.

>>4383028
Piss and shit yourself. No one will want to come near your pockets if you've soiled yourself.
>>
>>4383056
Scratch that.

>>4383028
>Truth, tell them everything that happened including the looted bodies
>"Who did this? And you'd better hope it wasn't you."
Two sorcerers. A buff chick with a machete killed her and took some boy. The dead guy over there tried to help but got himself killed. I got a little further but got a broken leg for trying to help. She left with some masked guy with expensive clothes.
>>
>>4383028
>>4383056
support
>>
>>4383063
>>4383072

2 for this.

Write in included, writing.

OOC: Last update for the evening.
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>>4383089

"Then let me explain, without any wayward deals this time. I wouldn't lie about something like this."

There was a steely resolve behind your eyes as you replied back to Grant. You didn't look away, or even blink as he stared right back at you. The rage in his eyes had yet to quell, as he gave you his blessing.

"You got about 2 minutes. Starting now."

He pulled his head back from you, getting up and motioning to his underlings to stand watch if anyone else came in. Taking in a deep breath, you began recalling the events from the moment you arrived to the bus stop to the pickpockets finding you. How you'd were on your usual commute to a job site, how the screams started in the back of the crowd, the built woman with the machete snatching up that kid, that one guy who tried to be a hero and then your own attempt which resulted in a broken leg.

There were no interjections or questions from Grant up until the point where you mentioned the sorcerer with the fish scaled mask.

"You said he was carrying a large box, right? Did he wear something really expensive looking, like nothing you could get here?"

Yeah, that sounded about right for the box he carried and the clothes he wore. Even in your delirious state of pain, there was no mistaking that kind of get-up from anyone you'd seen in the Hole."

"Yeah, more jewels on his shoulders alone than I'd seen in any store here, and that box was probably as big as he was. Do you know that guy?"

Grant narrowed his eyes, but just shook his head and told you to keep going. There was a brief pause as you thought on what that as about, before you started up again. There wasn't much else to tell, besides what you had found the victim's bodies but you would keep that to yourself if he asked directly. The short ending merely caused him to shake his head in either frustration or conflict before he came near you again.

"The kid that woman took, how old did he look? How scrawny was he?"

No, there was no forgetting how small that kid had seemed to you. You could have mistaken him for some of the kids in Grants crew with how little he seemed in that woman's arms.

"No, small, probably smaller than some your own guys here. You aren't involved with those sorcerers are you-"

Grant quickly turned away from you and motioned for his gang to disperse. The orders were met with odd looks and estranged noise from his underlings, but he repeated the command with a shout. The followed it soon afterwards, except for two whom he motioned over to you. Without a moment to think further, you felt yourself hoisted to their shoulders. You let out a yelp of surprise before Grant spoke again.

"We'll take you to get some help old man. But first, you need to do one more favor for us."

You would have narrowed your eyes in annoyance, if you weren't in such a compromised position.

"You took something from her body, that much is obvious from how light her pockets were. The only question is, are you going to give it back?"
>>
>>4383150

>Give him, the Silver Case
>Give him, the woman's wallet & its contents
>Give him, the massage coupons
>Write in
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OOC: We'll continue our quest tomorrow for a full day session starting at 11 AM EST.

Thanks again for voting anon, even if turnout is still a bit light.

Have a good evening.
>>
>>4383153
>Give him, the Silver Case
>>
OOC: I'll keep waiting one more votes, should those come up.

Thanks for voting at least anon, and sorry for the wait.

>>4383225
>>
>>4383153
>Give him, the Silver Case
Sorry for coming in late.
>>
>Give him, the Silver Case
Well keep these coupons, we deserve them after all this shit
>>
>>4383225
>>4383785
>>4383871

3 for the Silver Case

Writing.

OOC: Doing clean-up on PC, sorry for the wait.
>>
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>>4383873

"Consider it a down-payment then. I'd thank you, but I know you're not doing this out of the good of your heart."

Your response was met with a narrowed look from the leader, and a shove from the other members. They knew how things were out here for the average person, so they weren't going to expect an apology from you for looting the corpses. Nonetheless, you weren't going to default on a promise in your state. Maneuvering your hands to the suit's zipper, you stealthily sifted through the inner pocket for an item.

The first you felt against your fingers were those massage coupons, which could have served as your choice if you were in the mood to lie. You hated going back on a promise, but you were honestly more concerned in getting some off time at a lowered price with everything that had happened today. The wallet came next, which would have been the obvious option to hand out given the nature of looting. Too obvious, and instead you handed him the last item in there.

"What is this? This seriously the only thing you took from her?"

The silver case gleamed against his face with the faded light of the streetlamps. The pickpockets holding onto you were also transfixed on it, all staring straight at the central symbol of the horned animal. Grant snatched it from your hands, inspecting it over in detail with a look of perplexity. He then turned to you, no doubt expecting an answer to his earlier question.

"Don't know, looked expensive and valuable so made sense to take it. The machete woman could have taken any other valuable during the assault, but guess she didn't look hard enough for this one."

This was a half-truth of course, but it was plausible enough that you hoped Grant and his crew believed it. Grant's face contorted in both disbelief and worry at your response, yet it didn't seem her was entirely distrusting you on it. Giving the case a final look over, he pocketed it away into his jacket before motioning his boys to follow him.

"We'll talk more when we get to Dr. Krause's. Just try not to die on the way there, it'll make this whole thing pointless."

In your mind, that probably was the kindest thing you'd heard this kid say. You would have been more grateful, if Grant hadn't suddenly hoisted your legs under his arms. The pain was quick and intense, but it wasn't anything compared to when they started running. Involuntary gasp and groans of pain escaped your mouth as they quickly moved through the streets of the Hole, clinging to the alleys as if they hated the streets.

They probably weren't even going that fast, but everything surrounding your vision was becoming blurred out. The buildings were moving in such erratic motions that it almost seemed like they were melting into each other. You don't know how long or far they had carried you, as the light began to blend into the buildings as well. Then, the light itself was extinguished before darkness overtook your vision.

<Continued>
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>>4383912
<Continued>

"Hey man, stop holding up the line!"

The intense reprimand from the woman behind you, snapped you back to attention. You eyes blinked for a moment to see the large gap in a line heading towards a bronze barred counter. The person at the counter was well dressed, like a bellhop at some kind of fancy hotel. It certainly was fancily furnished and decorated like a hotel, but you knew this definitely a bank.

Quickly apologizing to the woman, you quickly stepped forward to fill in the gap. The woman expressed some more discontent, though you could hear chatter of relief from further behind her. Some people were impossible to please, but at least it wasn't your problem anymore. It at least gave your mind more time to admire the interior of this place.

The exterior and the entrance were opulent enough, with the chiseled, marble and golden devil statues near the front. Yet the beautiful leather seats, crystal chandeliers and implacable wood varnish on the counters spoke of such a high level of craftsmanship on part of the designers. It was like stepping into a higher plane of existence, to stand with the highest members of society if only every-time you made a deposit and withdrawal.

'Certainly beats any and all of the banks near Capricorn.'

As the line continued to shorten on its way to the front, you kept taking in its sights. A vague hope had filled your head since you were a child, that you would see yourself in a place like this. At the head of something great and wealthy beyond your wildest dreams with only the devils above you. And then probably rise to their own heights if you managed to get lucky enough. It almost made you curious as to who exactly had command of a bank like this.

'White Lie & Belphegor'

That's what the platinum lined plaque of at the front of the bank had read. It was an odd name, as those were the invoked names of devils and they rarely liked seeing their images plastered without permission. Whoever the owner was, maybe he had a special contract or license to use them from the devils directly. If that was the case, you could only image what kind of influence he or she must have to do that.

The line was almost to the end when your thought had completed. Only two people remained to the front, though you'd no doubt would go next regardless considering the five tellers on active duty. Their dress code was still really odd to you. Did the owner just like the bellhop look or did that have some hidden meaning to only himself?

What's more, the vast vault and repository of cabinets behind them almost made the place appear understaffed. You wouldn't get much time to wonder on it as you and the other two were called to the front. The first two arrived to counters 1 & 3, whereas you headed for the last one open. The teller was a woman in a mask akin to a riveted iron cube with slits for her eyes, mouth and nose.

"Good morning, and welcome to White Lie and Belphegor. How may I be of service to you today?"
>>
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>>4383939

>Withdrawal, came in to retrieve package #231 for Mr. June
>Deposit, package drop off on behalf of our dear organization
>Service, I'd like to request a meeting with the owner of this branch
>Write In
>>
>>4383941
>Withdrawal, came in to retrieve package #231 for Mr. June
>>
>>4383941
>Withdrawal, came in to retrieve package #231 for Mr. June
>>
>>4383941
>Withdrawal, came in to retrieve package #231 for Mr. June
>>
>>4383946
>>4384013
>>4384104

3 for this Withdrawal

Writing

OOC: Sorry about the wait, had to get some dinner.
>>
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>>4384114

"Yes, I'm here to make a withdrawal on behalf of Mr. June. Package number 231, designation code: Pure."

You couldn't see it past the teller's mask, but could have sworn she twitched as you read out the identification code to her. Her reaction almost made you cock your head in curiosity. Mr. June had said it was going to be a simple package pick up. Just speak with the teller, have them retrieve it from the vault and then just return to Capricorn with the package in hand.

"Y-you did say number 231, right? Are you sure you don't want to get 331 or 131, right...?"

What had once been a friendly and inviting demeanor when speaking to you had turned to fear. No, this was more like terror or some kind of initial panic. Like someone had a gun trained to her head or maybe your own.

"No, I did say number 231. Is there something wrong with the package or-"

A little yelp erupted from the teller, short but loud enough that some heads were now turned to you. She shook her iron covered head hard enough that it almost seemed like she'd decapitate herself with her own mask.

"No, nothing at all sir. But please, I'd urge that you take in a deep breath before I confirm the transaction."

Now that request did make you tilt your head in confusion. Something about this transaction was getting stranger by the moment, and it was starting to bother you. What did receiving a package have anything to do with taking in a breath? Were they going to hand it to you underwater?

"Hold on, what are you talking about? Why do I need to take in a breath to accept that package?"

The question made the teller almost visibly shake in her seat, as she made no sound besides some slight rattling from her mask. For a moment, you saw some some of the other tellers reach out for something their desks. Your teller then smacked her hand against a form on the counter.

"I can't f-force you to follow the suggestion. But please sir, at least let me know if you're going to take in the desired package!"

Her tone had shifted to complete panic, no doubt there was something else happening here. The atmosphere had shifted as well, so many people were looking at you now, not just the tellers. Letting out a breath, you nodded your head and did as the teller suggested.

"Ok, package confirmed in part of Mr. June. Do not worry about signatures, it'll be sent to him after you receive the package. And please, take care sir."

You barely had a second to register her calmer tone, and her checking off the form, before you felt a presence right behind you. There not a moment to react, before you felt something quickly placed over your head. Sight was removed from your senses, as you could only feel a sharp tug at your neck and head as something pulled you into the air. You were thankful you took in that breath, as you felt oxygen leave your head in those seconds of sudden speed and weightlessness. A chuckle erupted next to your ear, before darkness overtook your mind.

<Continued>
>>
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>>4384151
<Continued>

A gradual mix of pain and change in temperature caused your eyelids to will themselves open. It was gradual and agonizingly slow, with your initial vision impaired by the white light above you and the rotating movements of what you assumed was a ceiling fan. It could have also been the spinning blades of a blender with the light just being reflected from its metal frame.

A pinprick of a pain suddenly rose in your temple, as you felt something strike you. You quickly turned to see what it was, before a surge of pain erupted from your left leg. There was something restraining it, like a pulley or winch above the bed you laid on. What's more, several large pins or metal prods were stuck right into it from the bandages wrapped around it.

"Whoops, guess you were actually waking up that time. Don't try to move too much there, you'll loosen up the pins and then it'll be much harder fix your leg."

The pain didn't subside, but you managed to stop squirming enough to look at the source of voice sitting next to your bed. It was a woman, probably in her late 30s, with an odd outfit covered by her medical scrubs. Her expression and tone were completely placid, almost robotic as she tapped her fingers on a wooden clipboard.

"Could you pass me that pen I threw at you just now? Name's Dr. Greta Krause by the way, and you're honestly lucky Grant and his boys got you here when they did."

You had to question what caught you by surprise more: the request for her pen or the fact that the kid managed to keep his word. Looking near your pillow, you quickly found the plastic pen she struck you with and haphazardly tossed it back to her. She let you a nonchalant 'Thanks' before scribbling on her clipboard.

"What happened...? How long have I been out for?"

She didn't reply right away, instead continuing to write on the clipboard. Her eyes seemed to be darting around, with her pen following suit to input as much information as she could there. You were about to call out to her, before she looked at you again.

"Compound fracture on your left femur, over 11 different parts to put back together. Took me about a 13 hours to put back together, but you've been out of it for about four days or so."

The sudden news almost made you bolt again, before you wisely controlled yourself. Instead, you did the next best thing and began to panic with your voice.

"Damnit, I've got to get out of here or get to a phone. If my boss finds out that I've been missing for four days-"

Another pinprick struck your head, this time it made you wince with how precisely it had managed to hit your temple. You turned your head in annoyance to Dr. Krause, before she folded her legs.

"Will you calm down, it's not going to make you heal faster. And don't worry, Mr. Chip was already contacted the moment I found the little business card case in your suit pocket. Came in person too with some girl, and left you some fresh cookies. May have eaten one while you were asleep."
>>
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>>4384218

>Grant, where is he and the pickpockets?
>Chip and the girl, when did they come here?
>Krause, why do you look and sound so bored?
>Write In
>>
>>4384223
>Grant, where is he and the pickpockets?
>Chip and the girl, when did they come here? >Write In
No point in making a chore of pulling teeth here. How long will it take for my leg to fully recover, and what's my bill come out to be.
>>
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OOC: Like mentioned previously, we'll continue this again tomorrow at 11 AM EST for a full day session.

Small turnout again, but I'll try to keep updates closer whenever we get at least 3 or so votes.

Thanks again for voting anon. I'll tally up everything once we start up tomorrow.

>>4384358
>>
>>4384358
Supporting this
Sorry for not getting here early but my time zone is prohibiting me.
>>
>>4384358
>>4384873

2 for the Dual Choice.

I'll write up in a few, something came up today unfortunately.
>>
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>>4385098

Your hand reached to rub your left temple. Not because her pen striking was all that painful, but as a means of soothing your nerves given the intake of information. The good news was that Chip and Saya knew where you were and probably weren't too mad about missing work for a few days. Though that ultimately gave way to the bad news of how long you'd have to be here and how much this was going to cost.

"Well, no point in making a chore of pulling teeth here. How long will it take for my leg to fully recover and what's the bill come out to be?"

Dr. Krause didn't answer, instead only holding out her open palm forward expecting something from you. Given her placid expression, you doubt most people would have understood what she meant. Thankfully, you had caught onto her habit of throwing her pen and just flick the item back to her. She expertly caught it between her fingers, before writing on the clipboard again.

"Recovery time could go anywhere between 6 to 8 weeks, but something in your bone structure is already causing reconstitution to occur. Didn't get a full time to analyze it, but it could be as little as a week. As for pricing, your boss already took care of that so I won't bother you with the amount. But he ask me to tell you that, 'This is the last freebie you get from me.' "

You would have smiled more prominently if you weren't still in pain. It truly amazed you that, in spite of how stingy with money Chip could be, there really were other things he valued more. Or maybe he just realized there'd be a deficit to his earnings if his best worker was out of commission. Regardless, you'd have to personally thank him after you got out of here. This still left the issue of Grant and the pickpockets though.

"Where is Grant or his gang? He said he wanted to talk further about the incident with me after we got to the hospital."

The doctor once again ignored you, though it seemed she had finished on whatever it was she was writing for the clipboard. She stood up, revealing herself to be quite tall, and spoke up as she walked to your bedside.

"Grant and his boys requested for me to call them the moment you wok up precisely for that reason. I can let them know, and they'll be here in a few minutes from whatever tenement they hang around in. Though, there are bigger problems to deal with right now."

Her tone certainly didn't make it sound like there was an issue right now. Nonetheless, it it did raise worry that there was a bigger issue here than whatever was brought up during the assault those four days ago. With a quick motion, Dr. Krause flipped clipboard so the paper side was facing you. It looked like a registration form, to which she pointed at a signature section with the pen.

"I can't legally see you here without your consent, though your boss helped fill out half of it for you. So, do me a favor and let me keep my medical license, please?"
>>
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>>4385329

>Phil
>Phillip
>Philbert
>Philippe
>Phillard
>Philly
>Pip
>>
>>4385329
>but something in your bone structure is already causing reconstitution to occur
Well fuck me. I guess our boy here got poked by a sorcerer and lost his memories about it.

>>4385335
What
Just fucking sign it what?
>Phillard
>>
>>4385335
>Phillip
Are we selecting our name?
>>
>>4385373
>>4385447

1 for Phillard and 1 for Phillip.

If we dont have a tiebreaker in the next 30 min, I'll flip a d2 and write for the winner.

>>4385447
Yes.
>>
>>4385486
>Johnny Thundercock
Can this be the name?
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>4385486

1 = Phillard

2 = Phillip

Writing for winner.

>>4385494
No.
>>
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>>4385527

Looking over the sheet for any oddities, it didn't appear to have any subversive wording or content. The title of 'Krause Triage & Medical Center' was labeled at the top, along with the label of registration right below. No fine line contract information or additional pages where such information would be shown or even any other sections besides just personal information and hours arrival for your entry.

Your name, home address and identification tag number were already set among the entries in the form. Heeding Dr. Krauses's instructions, you signed off on the blank area at the bottom and handed the pen back to her hand. Her expression remained the same as she took the item back, but she gave you a thumbs up of approval.


"Thank you, 'Phillip Bahnd'. Would you prefer me to call you Phil or is Phillip just fine?"

You shook your head in disagreement, it wasn't something you didn't let anyone, even Chip, get away with calling you. Dr. Krause just nodded her head, and placed the clipboard under her arm before moving towards the room's single door.

"I'll call up Grant and his boys in a few minutes, so they'll be here after lunch. Hanz will be get here with it in a few minutes, so I'd eat up before they get here if I were you."

She didn't give you a chance to respond before closing the door with a metallic clang. Now that she mentioned it though, you were feeling drained after she mentioned lunch. Guess those four or so days of being unconscious were catching up to you. Hunger could wait a bit longer though, as there was so much junk in your mind you needed to organize.

Firstly, were those two sorcerers from yesterday and whatever connection they had to that kid. Actually, now that you were thinking on it, had that woman with the machete actually used magic? Secondly, there was also some connection that Grant and his gang had with those two as well. He'd described the man pretty dead on, so maybe he'd already seen him?

Then, there was that thought in the back of your mind, a really hazy thought you couldn't recollect very well. The only thing vaguely cohesive about it being that you were in the sorcerer's world during it all. It felt almost dreamlike, yet you had felt something much differently before you woke up. A hundred possibilities were in your head, yet you knew speculating on it wasn't going to help you in your state. Or at least, you wouldn't have a chance to think on it as metallic clicking came through the door.

"Lunch is ready! Potato soup, apple slices and water, fresh from the kitchen."

A jovial voice came through the door, and then so did the body of a massive, muscular man in a nurse's uniform. He was carrying a metal tray stand towards your bedside and latching it to the metallic rails. The food did look as advertised, though you'd never seen any kind of potato soup that made its broth white.

"I'm Hanz by the way, Dr. Krause's head nurse. Or really, only nurse since we're pretty short staffed at the moment."
>>
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>>4385601

>Thank you, it honestly looks better than some non-hospital food I've had
>No Thanks, I think I'll wait until I've collected my thoughts before eating
>Wait, why is this considered a hospital if they only have 2 people working here?
>Write In
>>
>>4385601
>he body of a massive, muscular man in a nurse's uniform.
Hot.
>Thank you, it honestly looks better than some non-hospital food I've had
>Wait, why is this considered a hospital if they only have 2 people working here?
>Write In
Are you guys just that good at what you do?
>>
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>>4385706

OOC: We'll continue again tomorrow after 6 PM EST.

Thank you for voting anon >>4385706
and sorry again for not abiding by the originally planned schedule.

Votes will be tallied after I get back from work
>>
>>4385706
Supporting this
>>
>>4385706
>>4386234

2 for the Dual Choice.

Writing.

OOC: We'll allow the additional choices when it's just questions, but reminder that for harder choices you will have to have just the one.
>>
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>>4386234

"You don't say. Well, thank you, it actually looks better than some non-hospital food I've seen."

Your response earned a smile from him, before he grabbed the flower vase by your nightstand and headed towards the sink. Cracking open the wrapper on the plastic utensils next to the bowl, you dug right into the hot soup. The taste immediately sparked up your mouth, as the rich flavor of the potato and carrots blended perfectly with the creamy texture of the broth.

"Wow, this is actually incredible! I'll have to compliment the cook after I get out of here."

You kept digging more into the soup, as the water from the sink splashed back into the vase. Every single scoop of soup seemed to get better the more you kept digging in. All the while, Hanz returned the newly filled vase to your nightstand with small carnation.

"Why don't you thank him right now? That way, you won't forget before you get out."

You turned to him in surprise, mid scoop, with genuine interest which earned a wide grin from him. Whoever Hanz was to be able to both serve as auxiliary aid here as well as cook, certainly spoke of his skills.

"How did you get so good while also being a nurse? Why even be a nurse when you've got that much talent as a cook even?"

The question earned a hearty laugh from him, so much that more of his musculature pressed against his nurse uniform. You also began to wonder why he also wasn't a bodyguard or hired muscle for the City Council if he was this built.

"Well, I used to do a lot of culinary work back in the South End, but I got out when I met my wife. You've met her, Dr. Krause, and she taught me everything I know about medicine."

That made your eyes go wide, which also got another laugh out of Hanz. It seemed that today was going to be filled with more surprises than you'd expected. Though, this brought up another question to your head as you shook yourself back to normal.

"Wait, if you're the only nurse here, and probably cook, are there any other Doctors here besides Krause? If that's so, how can this be considered a hospital with only two people?"

Hanz quizzically scratched his head, probably thinking up an answer. Given your sudden barrage of questions, you wouldn't hold it against him to be somewhat overwhelmed.

"Well...we don't really get that many clients, though that may be because Dr. Krause's pricing more than anything. We really only use the first floor of the hospital to keep maintenance costs down."

Sounded like a smart tactic, but operating a place like this with only two people must still be challenging. Then, a little buzz on a pager was heard from Hanz's hip.

"Anyways, I'll let you finish up. Ring the buzzer next to your bed when you're done."

You nodded in reply, before he exited the room in a hurry. You couldn't make a complete judgement on him but at least he was a good cook. It was thirty or so minutes later, when you finished your meal, that you heard a knock on the door.
>>
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>>4387113

>Who is it?
>Come in.
>I heard you!
>Write In
>>
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OOC: We'll be back tomorrow evening after 6 PM EST if we have more votes..

Hopefully.
>>
>>4387117
>Come in.
>>
>>4387351
>Come in
>>
>>4387117
>Come in.
>>
>>4387483
>>4387792
>>4387891

3 for this.

Writing.
>>
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>>4388419

"Come in."

Your command signaled another metallic creak from the door as its handle was turned. As it opened, Grant and two of his boys came into the room with him holding up what looked like a long book of some kind. They were still dressed in those long coats from when they found you. As well as a familiar expression of interest as they moved to the visitor chairs, except Grant who just stood with that book.

"Dr. Krause gave us the run down on how you're doing. It's a good improvement from when we brought you in, considering you were half-dead and everything."

It almost amazed you that Grant could still keep his quips ready even when you were in a state of recovery. Not that you expected him to be all that genuine in terms of actually caring. You knew this whole thing was just a means to an end with him.

"Like I said before, I don't like to default on promises. Now, if we can get down to business, I'd like to return to my hobby of staring at the wall until I'm better."

This earned an amused chuckle from the young gang leader, as he opened up the book. You really did wish there was something more to do here though, since there wasn't a TV in your room. Maybe you could convince Hanz to get you some books to pass the time. The thought was interrupted by Grant moving the open book right to your face.

"As of the last two months, there have been some unusual kidnappings around the East and West End of the Hole. Normally, no one cares about that, with how many scumbags there are around here. Usually, they leave a ransom note or the remains of the victim after a few days. But then we start hearing that the families of these people usually die soon after."

As you listened intently to his story, your eyes were more focused on the collage of pictures and photos of a few dozen people on there. They were of varying quality, either grainy and smudgy or perfectly clear as if taken by one of those new digital cameras. The other thing you noticed, was that all of the people on there looked very young. In fact, none of them looked older than Grant.

"It seemed really strange though as to why not just conduct their experimentation here instead of kidnapping someone, much less children. Sorcerers don't operate like that, at least none that I've ever seen."

Grant seemed to ignore your assumption, as he quickly turned to the end of the book. On there, there were two very poor quality shots of two people. You could barely make out the bodies, but the colors and shapes matched those of the two you'd seen during the assault at the station.

"No one knows who they are, but the pattern we were able to pick up on was that an usual amount of smog appears whenever they're around. We were on our way to investigate the one that appeared near the tram station, but arrived too late. We were hoping you would know more about them, it'd go a long way to stopping whatever they're doing. So far, you're also the only survivor we know of from their attacks."
>>
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>>4388539

>Help out, sure let's see if we can't stop them
>Only Info, I'll keep a lookout if something happens
>Thank you, but I can't get more involved
>Write In
>>
>>4388547
>Help out, sure let's see if we can't stop them
They seem like good kids. It would suck to see them dead in some ditch. But only after we've recovered and when we have time off work. Don't go off and fighting any gorilla women.
>>
>>4388547
Ask him if the silver thing we gave him was a clue to what's going on. Is he worried about the safesty of his friends?
>>
>>4388547
>Help out, sure let's see if we can't stop them
>>
>>4388736
>>4389108
>>4389275

2 for Help Out.

Writing, including write in.
>>
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>>4389804

You'd lived in the Hole for a few years now, always with a policy of not involving yourselves in the matters of others. More out of distrust and apathy than anything else, though there was always an impulse in you that wanted to do more. Whether it was that odd impulse or wayward thought in your head, it seemed to be pulling you in again. You took in a breath before giving Grant your answer.

"I don't know much help I'd be, but I'll do what I can. Though, I'll be frank, I don't really know much else about those two besides what I already told you."

While it was slight, your answer earned a smile from Grant with a genuine 'Thanks man' following it. For as dumb as these kids were, you didn't want to see them end up as another body in the Hole.

"Hey, at least we can be sure that they're sorcerers from what you told us. Though, we can't really predict their movements besides the smog connection or really think of a way of stopping them. Honestly, I don't even know what we'll do if we do end up catching them somehow..."

Grant was practically scratching his head at how lost he sounded, though it at least made you glad to know that he understood how out of his league this whole situation was. Thankfully, you already had a bit of an idea on where you could start even if you were still confined to the bed.

"We can take it one step at a time for now, but I think you should look out for your friends first. Given what you know about these people, I'm sure you know the could be targets."

Grant nodded in agreement, before bringing up what looked like a piece of chalk from his jacket pocket. It was broken at the tip, but was still usable.

"Yeah, that's something Kitten thought of by having us mark our routes. That way, we knew how many were still with each group whenever we went out for picking."

The simple yet probably effective nature of this system surprised you, given that most of these kids were probably not even educated. Also that name, Kitten, you'd heard him or one of his friends mention it before. Was it that guy the machete woman had taken?

"Seems like you guys have that covered then, now about these kidnappers. Did you guys ever see what that silver card case was? Ever think that could be a sign of why they targeted those two that day?"

Grant's eyes lit up at the mention of the silver item. He quickly reached into his pant's pocket and pulled it for you to see.

"I tried opening it, but it doesn't budge one bit. I also asked around if anyone knows what that symbol on the lid means, but no know has any idea. If they were targeted because of this, it doesn't make sense for them to just leave it."

His assumption made enough sense, but something else was bothering you about this thing. It looked too out of place, too clean to just be on some random woman from the Hole. Even if it didn't relate to the kidnappers, maybe there was a reason for that woman braving the smog along with her brother.
>>
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>>4389919

>The woman, what was your relation to her?
>The brother, who was he to you guys?
>The case, any other details about it?
>Write In
>>
>>4389919
>You'd lived in the Hole for a few years now
WHERE FUCKING ELSE DID WE LIVE. THERE IS ONLY THE HOLE.

>Write In
What do you know about the woman and the kid with her? You considered asking around about the two of them? If they've done anything irregular of gone somewhere? Talked to people?
Ask to see if we can get a better look at the case. We're an electrician, but who knows. Maybe we'll notice some sort of hidden compartment, or hell he can grab our tools and we can try to pry it open.
>>
>>4389946
supporting this
Man this quest really needs some attention
>>
>>4389946
>>4391131

2 for this Write in.

Writing.

>>4391131
I can only upload after work on the weekdays unfortunately. The lower player count makes this a little harder but I still keep to my schedule.
>>
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>>4391387

"What do you know about that woman and the kid with her? You considered asking around about the two of th-"

Grant raised his hand to stop your questioning before moving towards one of the visitor chairs. The underling sitting on it got up the moment he neared, and Grant sat down with a sigh of grief.

"That kid was a member of our group, his name was Kitten, the one I mentioned before. As for the woman, that was his sister and she had been trying to get her brother out of our group for a while now. She didn't like me, but I gave them something to protect themselves if trouble ever came their way. As far as I know, they never spoke to anyone suspicious and were too straight laced to ever get involved in shady shit."

There was an inkling in your mind as to the connection between these people, yet you were nonetheless surprised by how involved they were. In spite of that, Grant's answer didn't give you much to work with on connecting them to the kidnappers. If anything, it sounded even more like poor luck on their part for being targeted that day. At least, not without one more question.

"I see, well if you all knew each other then I'm guessing you told them about the smog connection. Any reason as to why they would have headed in there knowing the danger?"

Grant's face contorted in thought, no doubt attempting to recall the events of the last few days. Given his connection to the victims, this whole situation must have been more personal than it had been the last few weeks.

"Yeah, they were aware and Kitten's sister wasn't exactly known for taking big risks living out here. She'd mentioned moving out of the East End with Kitten for a while now, guess she must have been taking the first steps that day. But even that doesn't seem urgent enough. She was always too tight lipped about what she did, not even to her own brother."

With more information that Grant revealed, the amount of questions you had increased. You could only guess as to what they had been planning that day, but it couldn't have had a direct connection to those kidnappers. Even the most insidious thought in your mind was laid to rest when you remembered how quickly she had been killed that day. Ultimately though, this drew even more attention to that card holder you found in her pocket.

"Can I see the silver case again? I'd like to look at it more thoroughly, if anything to see if you may have missed something."

Grant nodded his head before producing the silver case again. One of his underlings took it from his hands and placed it at your bedside with a tap. You quickly grabbed it, and took a good look at every possible angle you could view it in. It surprised you that in spite of the 4 days it must have been out in the Hole's environment, it still remained completely unblemished.

The metallic shine was lustrous and so was the inscribed symbol on it. Though for as flawless as it seemed, you noticed a single section on it that you could only name as a-
>>
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>>4391437

>Circle, tiny and almost too small for a pin
>Slit, where you doubted even a grain of sand could enter
>Button, too close and narrow for your nail to press
>Write In
>>
>>4391439
>Button, too close and narrow for your nail to press
>>
>>4391439
>Button, too close and narrow for your nail to press

>>4391387
That's shame but I'm kind of glad that there's a quest that I can participate in without getting fucked over by my time zone.
>>
>>4391720
>>4392192

2 for the button.

Writing
>>
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>>4392950

At the very end corner of the case, where the hinge connected the two sections open, there was a tiny, metal button. Its size was so small in fact that you had almost mistaken it for a metal imperfection. It was nestled within the very crevice of the case, much too small for your nail to reach. You doubted even the pin-key you had in your belt could even reach it.

"I think I got something here, very small but it could be a means of opening it. For what it's worth, would you mind if I keep it here, try my hand at it and let you know if I get it open?"

All the other pickpockets looked over to Grant as you spoke your request. He gave a light shrug, and stood up from the chair before giving you a reply.

"May as well, not like we have any other leads at the moment anyways. We'll just keep to our regular routes for now, and see if those two show up again. Dr. Krause said you still had about another six days to recover, so I guess me and boys will leave you to that. And...thanks for helping us, old man."

There was a genuine smile on his face, even if he knew that you could only provide so much aid. You returned it back with an equal smile.

"Please, if we're going to be working together, you can just call me Phillip. Also, if we are going to be working together, I'll need my tools in order to help. Could you ask Hanz to get me my belt if it's still here?"

He answered back with a simple, 'Sure', while motioning one of his guys towards the door. He departed for it not long afterwards, along with the rest of his group. Before the door completely closed though, he popped his head back with a final message.

"Hey, don't tell the others about this but...I was the one bringing you the flowers. Something my mom's taught me a while back. Anyways...bye."

He closed the door with a light tap before you had a chance to reply. For as opportunistic and full of himself he seemed, Grant struck you as someone who really did mean well. You gave a glance to the resting carnations on the flower vase with a grin of gratitude. Then, you turned your attention back to the silver case before you.

That was about 4 hours ago, after Hanz had returned with your maintenance belt that had thankfully not been missing pieces. He at first discouraged you from trying to open the case, since Dr. Krause had requested for you to get more rest in. He'd ultimately been convinced into it, as you needed something to do in the coming few days.

While he relented, you weren't having much luck with opening the case as night began to fall. Every pin key had been utilized to reach that button but it seemed all of them were too large for the opening. Even trying to pry it slightly with some of the tweezer pliers wasn't giving you any budging as the metal refused to bend. You were about to go for your heavy pliers, before you heard a few taps on your window.

"Good evening, Phillip!"

The voice, and smiling face, of an upside down young woman greeted you right outside.
>>
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>>4393029

>Hey, how it's it going Saya?
>Come in, not like I can stop you
>Busy, mind coming back tomorrow?
>Write In
>>
>>4393029
>Come in, not like I can stop you
>>
>>4393029
>Come in, not like I can stop you
Did she say least bring snacks?
>>
>>4393032
>Come in, not like I can stop you
>>
>>4393395
>>4393683
>>4393834

3 for Come In.

Writing.
>>
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>>4393968

"Come in, not like I can stop you right now. Did you at least bring snacks?"

She replied with a wide grin, while producing a filled paper bag and pressing it against the window. It was always like Saya to think ahead, even for random rendezvous like this. You nodded your head at this, and motioned her into the room. With another grin, she holstered the paper bag and pressed her hands on the mobile end of the window.

These were windows that didn't open outward, instead inward like an upside down revolving door. For a normal person, this kind of entry-point would have been near impossible to maneuver inside even more so when upside down. For Saya, it was merely as easy as using her momentum and weight to match the window's own movement.

"Hah! Can you believe Chip says I'm getting sloppy with landings? I'd like to see him try to jump down three stories and survive."

Saya's had landed like a cat from the window's descent, taking a slight knee to make up for the awkward angle. Living for several years as an urban explorer in this city needed those kinds of skills. Considering you had seen Saya survive falls far greater than three stories, Chip must have been out of his mind to say that.

"Maybe he was in another on of his ranting moods. Considering how many clients he probably has to placate due to my absence, I image that's most of the time now."

Her face changed to a knowing smirk, while moving to your bedside with the paper-bag of snacks she brought in. She took out what looked like a cloth from it and set it along with several small toasted buns onto the side table.

"Ain't that the truth, he's almost bipolar with it now. Calling you out as an idiot who doesn't know when to look away one second and then feeling sorry for you and your leg. Though, if he saw you right now he might ask why you're not still at a job site right now."

She made a point of circling her hand around the current mess of tools lining your bed-sheets. You would have put them away if you had been expecting company. Putting away the one currently in your hand, you began to round up every tool you had around back into your belt. This earned a giggle from Saya, who took out a thermos from her backpack and placed it on the table along with two plastic mugs.

"Did Dr. Krause tell Chip that I was awake? Or have you been coming to the hospital every night hoping I was just awake?"

She didn't immediately respond, keeping her attention on the two cups and pouring the thermos's contents into them. The soothing aroma of macha tea wafted from the side table, as she handed you one of the cups and one of the buns.

"The latter, though Chip doesn't suspect anything since he's taking up your jobs right now. Part of me says, I was getting lonely over there and wanted to see how you were doing. The other part of me though, was curious as to why you stuck your neck out for those victims near the tram station. It doesn't like you really, considering your policy for laying low."
>>
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>>4394044

>Duty, I couldn't just let someone do what they did
>Conscience, I'd feel terrible if I didn't intervene
>Impulse, didn't really have a reason
>Write in
>>
>>4394047
>Impulse, didn't really have a reason
>>
>>4394047
>Conscience, I'd feel terrible if I didn't intervene
>Impulse, didn't really have a reason
>>
>>4394200
>>4394230

2 for Impulse,

Writing, as well as part of the Conscience option
>>
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>>4394519

"I know, and part of me still doesn't really know why I went through with it. Though, another part says that I couldn't just stand by and watch some psycho just kidnap a kid like that."

You took a bite out of the bun, filling your mouth with the sweet, and warm, red bean paste. It was a nostalgic taste, no doubt that she had gotten it from Hakase's deli near Chip's store. The tea carried that nostalgic taste as well, just the way Chip brewed it after a morning job for lunch. It perfectly complemented the sweet of the bun.

"Why not? You'd done it before, I've done it before and I doubt there's anyone in this city that hasn't just walked away from something like that. I'm not going to judge you for it, but it just seems odd that impulse or your conscience willed you to do it that very day."

It almost sounded like she was chiding you for the decision, or that she was suspecting something akin to foul play. Saya had a way of getting under your skin without meaning it, though, it was often the case more with people she didn't like. This was the first time you were on the receiving end of it and you didn't like it.

"How I am supposed to know when I'll randomly decide to do something like that? It happened, and now I have to live with it in spite of how ridiculous the circumstances were. Though, it's not like the circumstances would have changed how I'd be dealing with this situation anyways."

You took a hard sip from the tea mug, not caring that drinking it that quickly would scald your mouth. It was probably not your intention to sound defensive, but you hoped that Saya would stop prying too much into the why's of it. It was bad enough that she was questioning it, no doubt she'd give you a talking to if she knew you had gotten this involved.

"Would it change if you were as connected to the incident? Don't try to speak up while you're eating, one those pickpocket kids let me in on your little deal. Those guys come here an unusual amount of times you know, wonder what they're speaking with you. Maybe it's not my place, but I'm not going to let others manipulate you like this again."

A thin knife's blade had made its way to the bedside table, digging hard into the wood. It vibrated with controlled rage as Saya held the knife with a taught wrist. Her lax expression had not changed one bit, as she held her tea mug on her other hand. Was she threatening you, or the people you were associating with?

"Saya, I think you're jumping to conclusions. Please, put that away, you know that Chip's rule about weapons when eating."

For a moment, you swore you saw her brow furrow with frustration. It was gone in an instant, like the knife that was sheathed back to her holster.

"Do you know how worried I was when I heard about what happened? When they told me why, I guess I let my worry get the better of me. It's just that...it reminded me too much of when you first arrived. Or rather, when we found you."
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>>4394657

>The Alleyway, how Chip had found you half dead and beaten near a drug house
>The Underpass, when Saya found you with your arms broken near a bridge
>The Warehouse, when both of them found you tied to a girder and bleeding from your chest
>Write In
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>>4394671
>The Warehouse, when both of them found you tied to a girder and bleeding from your chest
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>>4394753
This

>>4394671
To be fair? I think those kids mean well. As well as a bunch of munchkins can get in The Hole.
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>>4394753
>>4395631

Two for the warehouse.

Writing.
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>>4398655

Darkness, that was more than your eyes could see right now. There was no difference between your half-closed lids and the light-less environment around you. The only reason you had to believe there had even been light here, was that your prior memory still recalled it boring into your retinas. It was a clear sign of your still working mind, as well as the pain blaring from your chest. The last hours of pain and torture you'd been put through were marked in your memory as well.

"Time for another example. They're better dead than prisoners. Devil-worshiping cocksucker."

They were among the more colorful of the lines you remembered from the morning into the afternoon. The day when they hand strung you up by your neck to a pole, and beat you senseless like a disobedient dog. When the words of the crowd blended into a roar of violence and chaos among the hundreds of onlookers. The only thing louder in your ears, were the several bricks being thrown against your head.

It was catharsis, they said, an emotional reward or prize the Militia gave to the people of the Hole. How their own human wants for justice or retribution, were dealt with in a slow and painful manner. You were more than sure it was more of a prize for the militia, given what you had heard. That someone was killing them by the dozens, and that the people brought to Torture Square today were dregs and weaklings as a means of hiding their weakness.

It was a miracle then, as it would be the last live execution they'd show in there. They had handed your tool of execution via roulette to an onlooker, a girl probably no older than 17. It was a long-barreled revolver, which they instructed her on aiming right to your head. You remember the expression on the girl's face, as being both afraid yet angry, before she pulled the trigger. She missed your head completely, instead hitting you straight through the chest.

A fire started not long afterwards, roaring through the square exceedingly fast. The Militia must have thought it intentional, as they took you and the remaining other survivor to the same storage where you sat right now. For all you knew, it probably was intentional as they had never come back for you in the last two hours.

Not that it would matter, as you were more than dead anyways. The wound in your chest had not hit major organs, but the Militia weren't about to patch you up any time soon. Nor was there a chance to escape, as they'd tied you straight to a rusty girder near the end of the warehouse. You couldn't have expected a more hopeless way to die that day. Or so you though, when you heard the rustle of metal near the main door.

You'd heard voices afterwards, an older man and a younger woman, each looking for scrap or something the warehouse. One complained about the risk, while the other seemed to love it. Their voices got hazy as you thought you heard someone mention a body near the back. Their footsteps approached you, before you blacked out.

<Continued>
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>>4398734
<Continued>

"You know it's not the same thing Saya. And considering everything that happened afterwards, you know I wouldn't have trusted those kids at all. We all do things out of desperation, especially when we're hurt, to survive out here. You and Chip just have a higher sense of opportunity is all."

Saya's gaze was drifting down in silence as you said that. She got like this whenever you spoke something truthful, yet very much indifferent to her emotional state. It was necessary, because you knew that she wasn't going to understand it any other way. There were times you questioned her age, given how emotional she got with you and Chip.

"You're right, we did take advantage of you Phillip. Chip took you in because he saw opportunity with you, and I'm fully aware of that. But at the same time, I don't want to believe that everything I gained from meeting you was just out of opportunity. You know that we both value you more than those gangbangers."

You stopped taking a bite from your bun and instead took in a short breath to answer Saya. There was something upsetting you about what she said, but it wasn't that she called Grant and his boys gangbangers.

"You really think those kids are just using me like some disposable tool? They placed a great deal of trust in me by bringing me in here and telling me everything about what's happening with their situation already. You think some grunt would even get told that much? Why are you comparing yourself and Chip to them?"

Another moment of silence from Saya, yet she was staring straight at you this time. You knew what would come next, you'd seen her do it Chip hundreds of times.

"Fine, I guess I just don't trust them then! I'm sorry Phillip, but considering how many murders and hangings happen in this city I thought you would have felt the same. And what worries me the most is that you stuck your neck out for people who you knew next to nothing about. I'm sorry...but it doesn't make sense to me..."

She looked completely downcast as she said that, her initially spunky attitude have been effaced completely. It was hard to get her to admit anything, but when you managed it, she always go sullen like a beaten dog. You would have consoled her, if she hadn't turned away and began stuffing the remains of the snacks she brought back into her bag.

"I'll come back next week with Chip this time, hopefully you'll see what I mean then. Just know that, we both do care about you Phillip. But that's something we reserve for family and no one else. Thing is though, can you trust those kids like your family? Can they keep a secret?"

She give you a chance to reply, before quickly moving back to the window and slipping through as easily as she came in. She was overreacting as always, yet her last word had rung true with you. As chummy as you'd gotten with those kids, there were some things you could never tell them. Thought on this, as a minuscule wisp of black smoke rose from your ring finger's nail.
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OOC: Thank you for playing everyone, but this will be the end of the session for now. I've archived it at the sup/tg/ so don't worry about it getting lost.

I don't know when I'll bring this back, if ever really, since I don't really have much interest in questing too much anymore. Regardless I appreciate everyone who voted so far since it made this possible to this point.

Anyways, take care /qst/. Bye.
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>>4398878
Thanks for running man. I really enjoyed my time here.
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>>4398878
See you next time Scorcerer bro
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Thanks for running!



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