File: 279.png (139 KB, 720x551)

139 KB PNG

>>4645229
What you both quickly discovered is that some junior alchemists had rigged together a diesel generator in order to use it to create a Homunculus, a dangerous, alchemically-created humanoid. You both decided that the situation was serious enough that you should call in help, and, after swapping phones, Ken told you to get into contact with Jimmy Greene, an associate of Ken's and fellow member of FOODS.

After sending out the red alert, you received a small interruption, however - the student guarding the gym exit who you took for granted ended up being an alchemist, and began to hold you hostage with a burning hand. She stood by and marched you to the parking lot so she could keep an eye on you and the "Uber" you supposedly had ordered, only to be in for a rude awakening when Jimmy arrived and immediately carved dozens of shallow cuts into her with his bloodbound knife when she tried to attack him.

You told Jimmy to go on ahead, and, out of a mixture of pity and pragmatism, used your newfound medical alchemy knowledge to heal the girl in order to get her to warm up enough to extract information. Through that you learned that the two other students in the locker room, Jason (her brother) and Violet (a friend) had been given little pills that let them perform alchemy, as well as a manual on forbidden arts, by a strange man who proceeded to vanish.

Presumably, the same manual tucked surreptitiously under your bed.

After healing her completely (and experiencing some distressing visions in the process), you returned inside with Ken and Jimmy to figure out your next moves. The three of you decided to confront Jason and Violet directly, where the story became more clear - Mr. White, the Track and Field teacher, was a Dragon, and Jason, Jason's sister, and Violet all decided, once the little magic pills made them remember that Mr. White had been killing and abusing members of the Track & Field team, that he needed to die. Of course, who would believe you if you shot your gym teacher and told everyone it was because he was an evil monster?

So, the solution was right in front of them, in the manual they were given. They built a homunculus.

You weren't able to disarm the situation in time to prevent one homunculus from being formed, whereupon it immediately took Violet hostage. With some quick thinking and clever use of architectural alchemy, you managed to push it away from her while Ken destroyed the generator, creating a pretty hefty explosion that knocked everyone out for a bit. When you all came to, the homunculus was attempting to escape, having been ablated down to about the size of a guinea pig, but you managed to capture it into a locker-turned-safe for storage.

After some debriefing, the three of you decided to let Jason and Violet go, albeit with a promise to call them in for a later interrogation. Jimmy then left shortly after, in order to file some papers related to the investigation, and that left you and Ken.

File: 1611566732771.jpg (133 KB, 850x604)

133 KB JPG

>>4645231
>>4642148
"I don't trust this thing as far as I can throw it." You say, plonking down the vibrating safe onto a table, all the way back at the local FOODS HQ. At this time of night, the place is practically empty, outside of a janitor that gives the two of you funny looks when you pass in, but ultimately pays you no mind.

"You don't seem like you can throw it very far so I'll just have to believe you on that one. I'm gonna call up a specialist - we have some people on call from the city that can handle homunculus cases like this. You gonna stay here with me 'til he gets here, or do you have to go home and go to sleep and shit?" Ken asks, shrugging her shoulders. "Not much of a big deal with me either way."

"How long will he take to get here?" You ask.

"'Couple hours, probably." Ken answers, shrugging.

>"Yeah, sure, whatever. What do we do with the homunculus in the meanwhile?"
>"I really do want to, but I've got all that dumb school shit I have to deal with. How do we make sure the homunculus stays locked up in the meanwhile?"

File: sharqmonke.png (58 KB, 551x551)

58 KB PNG

GLOSSARY OF TERMS
https://pastebin.com/ipHuwpgL

CHARACTER LISTING
https://pastebin.com/ciJ7gH7J

LISTING ON SUPTG
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Dragon%20Slayer%20Quest

PREVIOUS THREAD
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4605195/

If you're enjoying the quest, your upvotes are greatly appreciated

>>4645234
Alas, I forgot to post it because it's late and I'm tired, but the Free Option is always available. Have a happy Wednesday, readers!

>>4645234
>"I really do want to, but I've got all that dumb school shit I have to deal with. How do we make sure the homunculus stays locked up in the meanwhile?"

>>4645234
>>"I really do want to, but I've got all that dumb school shit I have to deal with. How do we make sure the homunculus stays locked up in the meanwhile?"
It's already pretty late, waiting around a couple hours seems silly if Ken's happy to handle it. We can check back in tomorrow.

>>4645234
>"I really do want to, but I've got all that dumb school shit I have to deal with. How do we make sure the homunculus stays locked up in the meanwhile?"

I guess we could just drop the cube into a bigger container. Our alchemy dissipates slowly enough it should be locked in tight by the time the cube open up. Or we could weld the edges shut so that the alchemy dissipating doesn't make it open up. Does Ken know how to weld?

>>4645450
>>4645420
>>4645306
"I really do want to, but I've got all that dumb school shit I have to deal with. How do we make sure the homunculus stays locked up in the meanwhile?" You ask, leaning on the safe slightly, watching it rattle and bounce about like a food processor being ran, trying to walk itself off the countertop.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I am just about spent. Pumped everything I've got into breaking that generator, it's frankly a miracle I'm still standing, much less that I drove all the way here afterwards." Ken says, sighing. "I mean, there's a couple of solutions. We could find a way to really weld it shut. Or..."

"Or we could put it in another box? I don't actually... know what happens if something tries to rubberband in a space that is too small for it to rubberband in?" You offer. Ken rubs her chin in thought. "I mean, I've probably got enough juice left for one last thing." You say, trying not to let on that you feel very tired and sore, likely from all the medical alchemy you've been doing. Your stomach isn't rumbling though, so that's one thing at least.

"That's a great question. I actually... don't know?" She replies.

>"Let's find out. But with something big and sturdy that it can't break out of in case something goes wrong. Like a bigger locker."
>"I think right now the best solution is probably to teach me how to just weld things shut the normal alchemical way and we can get that squared away with."
>Free Option.

>>4646813
>"I think right now the best solution is probably to teach me how to just weld things shut the normal alchemical way and we can get that squared away with."

>>4646813
>"I think right now the best solution is probably to teach me how to just weld things shut the normal alchemical way and we can get that squared away with."
>Free Option.
>"And then put this inside another box, anyway. Redundancy is good."

>>4646885
Support

>>4646813
>>"Let's find out. But with something big and sturdy that it can't break out of in case something goes wrong. Like a bigger locker."
I don't think it's a good idea for Noah to do any more alchemy

>>4646813
>>4646885
This.

>>4646885
+1

Not tonight, sorry fellas - I got my second vaccination shot yesterday and they weren't kidding when they said it was worse than the first. My arm feels like a lead weight and I feel like I got hit by a cannon ball. Will return tomorrow

>>4648389
No problem, my man. At least you're getting vaccinated, that's good to hear.

File: Spoiler Image (6 KB, 211x183)

6 KB PNG

>>4648389
One last night of waiting for you all, hopefully - someone respond to this post in a couple of hours and I'll try to get in a double update for you all, one in the afternoon, one in the evening. Feeling better but arm still hurts too much, sincerest apologies.

>>4649846
Look at the bright side, man. You won't get the coof now.

>>4649846
As long as you're feeling better, it's all good

>>4649846
Good-bye, Richard.

>>4646885
>>4646918
>>4647558
>>4647903
"I think right now the best solution is that you can just show me how to weld things shut the normal, alchemical way, and we can get that squared away with." You say, making sure to keep both hands on the wriggling safe. "And then put it inside another box, anyway. Redundancy is good."

"Right, I think there's a big locker somewhere here that will probably fit. Walk and talk." Ken says, getting up from the chair she had meandered into and ushering you follow. "Thermal alchemy is a fairly robust art - the best practitioners are more than capable of creating a flame with just the hydrogen molecules touching their skin, but you're a baby boy and you will probably fry your skin off like that. Most people start with using metal as an intermediary, because most humans have memories of being burnt by metal."

"Right, sort of like arc welding?" You ask as she leads you to a junk room in the back, where, indeed, a large grey locker sits in the corner of the room, unmoved. She walks over to it and kicks it open, sizing it up, before removing all the removable shelving on the inside.

"Yeah, exactly." She says, grabbing one of the metal shelves. She takes a deep breath and immediately snaps it down onto her knee, bending it down the middle, and then keeps bending it more until it's folded in half, hotdog style. She takes off her gloves, setting them in her lap, and clears a little space on the floor for the both of you.

"Alright, let it go." She says, and you do, watching as the safe quickly lengthens and stretches back into its original shape. Immediately, the homunculus is attempting to squeeze itself through one of the little tiny vent holes, but, thankfully, it's not very fast at it. "Burn. Scorch. Arc." She says, and the metal shelf she's holding melts and drips and solidifies into a white hot piece of solder, just a bit too hot to look at directly. She takes care of the open vent holes, scorching the homunculus several times in the process, before handing the mostly cool, not-glowing end of it to you to wipe your blood onto. "I'm spent. Empty as you can get. It's on you now, at least until I can digest this and get maybe another four seconds of welding in." She said, pulling out one last granola bar from somewhere on her person and cramming it down her throat, barely even opening it up.

You can feel the energy being transferred, being pulled out of you and into the metal, even before you speak. You think about how you've burnt yourself on a brownie pan before on your birthday, the pain, the surprise and shock, watching those youtube videos where the guys make video game weapons out of real steel. The TIG welder or whatever. The forge. The heat. The flame. "Weld." You say, and the heat begins. "Forge." You say, and with two words in it, it sparks and flares up into a bright white tip.

>>4651308

You've never felt anything so raw before in your life, so close to the molecular level. It's like you can feel every little cell in your body burning up what calories they had. You can swear you feel your stomach rumble, your guts working overtime to churn what remains of your day's meal into nutrients to feed this burning flare. Thermal alchemy, on an empty stomach, is absolutely nothing to fuck with.

Your skin bleeds out sweat, some of it seeming to vaporize into steam off of you as you bring metal to metal, sealing shut the creases and edges. It's rough, nasty business, paint flaking off into burning sparks that catch on your bare hands. The end of the metal you're holding onto is slowly heating up, but you know if you let go, you're not going to have enough in you to start over again, to kickstart the reaction. Just not enough energy. You're giving it all you can.

You weld.

By the time you're done, you've accumulated a fresh collection of tiny little blisters running up and down your forearms, and you fling the molten metal shelving across the room, where it rapidly cools down once out of your hand. Your cut finger that you've been feeding blood from all evening looks a pale, ghostly, drained white, while all of your fingertips, together, are dappled with little burn marks, your hands shaking. "Ow." You say, quietly, as Ken grabs the now-sealed locker, hefts it up with both hands, and shunts it into the larger locker, before slamming the door shut. She grabs the still smoking piece of metal, sighs, and bites the tip of her thumb. "Sharpen." She almost whimpers, elongating it into a miniature spear, and rams it into the locking mechanism of the bigger locker, before twisting it and somehow managing to twist it against, into the locker. When she lets go, it swells back up again slightly, returning to its not-sharp state, and hopefully keeping the locker sealed shut, as she uses her brute force to fold the other end over the outside corner of the locker. "I'll get the homunculus guy to weld this one shut too, just need to lock it for now."

With that taken care of you, the two of you return to the break room, where you call the nearest uber for a twenty minute or so wait. You have time to burn, and an empty stomach.

Your skill in Thermal Alchemy has increased!

>Ask Ken for some spare change for the vending machine.
>Try to make some small talk with Ken. (Free Option)
>You've got some time for questions, might as well fling a couple. (Free Option).
>Set an alarm for 15 minutes, put your head down, and get a little nap in. You imagine Ken is probably gonna do the same anyway.
>Free Option.

>>4651311
>>Ask Ken for some spare change for the vending machine.
I figure we've earned a little snack.

>>4651311
>Ask Ken for some spare change for the vending machine.
>Free Option.
>Get her something, too. She needs some food to recharge with, too, and if she's paying it would be the decent thing to do.

>>4651311
>Set an alarm for 15 minutes, put your head down, and get a little nap in. You imagine Ken is probably gonna do the same anyway.

>>4651341
>>4651315
"You've got any spare change on you? I wanna thump the vending machine a little." You ask. Ken looks at you, a little blearily, and pulls out her wallet, tossing it to you.

"Go nuts. I get paid enough. You're on camera though, so no using alchemy to steal shit." She warns you.

"Is that a frequent problem?" You ask, flicking a couple of one dollar bills and some quarters out from her wallet so you can get stuff for the two of you.

"No, most newbies try it once. Exactly once." Ken cracks, putting her head down on the countertop, and her forearms. While the top 3/4s of the vending machine are all the typical vending machine garbage, the bottom quarter, where there might be packages of pop tarts or cookies or gum, are instead stuffed to the gills with granola and protein bars and other calorie dense things. Like Oreos. You tap on the cheap, plastic numbers and letters, getting a protein bar for each of you and then a pack of Doritos for yourself, because you want some Doritos.

More extreme nacho cheese flavor than a medieval peasant would ever get to experience in their lifetime.

You drag yourself over to the countertop and collapse onto it a little, into one of the nearby chairs, passing one of the bars to Ken, along with her wallet. Her hand blindly scrabbles for it before the rest of her body catches up, pulling it into the little cave that her arms have made for her head. There's a crinkly, frenzied unwrapping sound, and then voracious chewing, which you match with a quieter, more measured unwrapping sound, and chewing at a normal pace. "Say, what happens if you try to do alchemy and you just don't have enough food in you?" You ask, mouth full of food.

Ken looks up at you, wryly smiling. "Well, then your body starts burning through fat and muscle, and then eventually you just pass out and die. I can't recommend it."

You grimly laugh. "Speaking from experience?"

"Yes." Ken says, grinning. You have no idea if she's serious or not, but you don't feel like asking for clarification.

>Ask her something else while you're enjoying the friendly chatter - she seems in a good mood (Free Option).
>Just eat in silence and then wait until the uber gets there, let her take a nap.
>Free Option.

>>4653034
>Just eat in silence and then wait until the uber gets there, let her take a nap.

>>4653034
>Free Option.
>Ask her to text us tomorrow with what the expert has to say about the homunculus, and then
>Just eat in silence and then wait until the uber gets there, let her take a nap.

>>4653034
>>Ask her to text us tomorrow with what the expert has to say about the homunculus, and then
>>Just eat in silence and then wait until the uber gets there, let her take a nap.

>>4653034
>Just eat in silence and then wait until the uber gets there, let her take a nap.

File: 0e24e53077958d88636c7eea5(...).png (152 KB, 765x711)

152 KB PNG

>>4653115
>>4653242
>>4653556
>>4653093
"Right, well, I'll let you get your naps in. You mind texting me tomorrow with what the expert has to say about the situation?" You ask, as she puts her head back down.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll keep you abreast." She mumbles, pulling out her phone for a moment, presumably to set an alarm. You sit there, eating as quietly as possible, until your Uber arrives outside to pick you up.

As you approach, shoes silently clicking against the tile and then the concrete, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, very faintly, and then the feeling passes. You're not sure if it's the feeling of leaving somewhere where you just did a bunch of alchemy, or something else.

Your Uber pulls up in a somewhat rickety looking, but obviously well-cared for car, loud, bassy music vibrating its way through the car doors. The man driving rolls the window down and looks at you with sharp, orange eyes.

<BGM: https://youtu.be/aAlXfs3Ta_A >

The back of your neck tingles again, in another wave, starting from the base of your spine and wobbling upwards into your scalp, before disappearing. "Noah, right?" He asks.

You look at your phone, seeing the picture of the same man, albeit a little more professionally dressed, on your app. "James", it says. You go around the back to make sure the license plates match - they do. Your brain feels like it's rapidly vibrating between "danger" and "all clear", like your spider sense is confused. "We good?" He asks.

>"Yeah, we're good." Hop in the back seat.
>Don't say anything, just get in the front seat. You'd look like an asshole if you cancelled to get another Uber right now, and it would cost money.
>"Oh, I forgot something inside.", disappear, cancel the ride, get another one once he leaves.
>Free Option.

>>4655728
>"Yeah, we're good." Hop in the back seat.
>Free Option.
>Keep a hand on our honing steel, just in case.

>>4655728
>"Yeah, we're good." Hop in the back seat.
I figured the Uber thing was going to bite noah at some point. It's fair enough point that whoever does Uber late into the night may have a stressful life.

>>4655749
+1

>>4655728
>"Oh, I forgot something inside.", disappear, cancel the ride, get another one once he leaves.

>>4655728
>Hop in the backseat but keep the doors unlocked and the stranger danger whistle ready

>>4656472
This may be the guy from a junkyard a rogue alchemist interested in human anatomy that intercepted the Uber or guy from pandora

>>4655806
>>4655749
>>4656472
"Yeah, we're good." You say, pulling open the backseat door and sliding in to the seat opposite of him, on the right side. You pat yourself slightly, making sure you still have your backpack, and your honing steel is still tucked away in your waistband (it is).

"Right, let's get you home then, yeah?" He asks, lifting one hand off the steering wheel as he begins to pull away from the sidewalk and starting to drive.

The air is crackling, rapidly wobbling between "someone's doing alchemy nearby" and "someone isn't", like someone fiddling with the thermostat. You're sitting next to a space heater, and then you get some ice dropped on you, back and forth and back and forth. If anything odd is happening, James doesn't seem to notice it, keeping one hand at the top of the steering wheel and the other leaning on the door. " All my life Mi ever have mi gun so mi haffi move sharp like mi knife... " James mumble-sings along with the music, tapping his fingers along the steering wheel with the beat, alternating between open-handed thumps and closed-fist bumps with all the dexterity of someone who probably actually drums. "What'chu out this late for? Karate classes?"

>"Just meeting up with a friend."
>"Had to get something from my locker I left in there a couple days ago, nothing big."
>Stay silent and try to make yourself come across as sullenly as possible.
>Free Option.

>>4656509
>"Drugs"

>>4656509
>Looking for trouble. Found trouble. Terrible experience, 2/10 would not recommend.

>>4656474
It could also just be a random Uber driver who happens to have something alchemical about them. Apparently it's pretty common in this town.

>>4656509
>Free Option.
>"I was helping a friend with some community service work she does, lost track of time."

Perfectly true lies are the best lies. Never say an outright untruth, say the truth in a way that hints it's not worth investigating.

>>4656670
Support

>>4656670
Support

Apologies for the delay, someone got into my amazon account and... ordered a fuckton of cabinets to random addresses? So I had to spend a couple hours clearing that out while the amazon "customer" """support""" told me to pound sand. Will try to get another update out this afternoon.
>>4656670
>>4657048
>>4657468
"I was helping a friend with some community service work she does, lost track of time." You say, trying to keep with the general half-truths you've been pretty flagrantly pouring all over the place. Not that you have a huge problem with that. The best way to deflect attention from yourself is to say the truth in a way that tells people it's not worth investigating.

"Ahaha, yeah, I know how it is. Long hours. You lose track of these things." He responds, silently adjusting his mirror a little bit. "Yeah, they keep me after long hours at the lab, and, y'know, doctorate work doesn't really pay the bills, so..."

"You're a doctor, huh?" You ask, leaning your head on the window of his car, watching streetlights pass you by. "Man, I'd hope they pay you guys enough that you don't have to do gig shit like this."

"Yeah, you'd hope, wouldn't you? Not a doctor yet, but I'm workin' on it." James replies as the car carefully curls around corners and turns. It seems like if he has any more questions about what you were doing tonight, he's not gonna ask them out loud. "You need me to change the song? Any requests?"

>"No, this is fine. What band is this?"
>"What kind of doctorate are you going for, if I can ask? Music's fine."
>"Can you put on some Frank Sinatra?"
>Free Option.

>>4658039
>"What kind of doctorate are you going for, if I can ask? Music's fine."
I'll bite, it's something to do with blood, isn't it?

>>4658039
>"What kind of doctorate are you going for, if I can ask? Music's fine."

>>4658039
>Apologies for the delay, someone got into my amazon account and... ordered a fuckton of cabinets to random addresses?
Well, that's surreal. You got it sorted out eventually, though?

>"What kind of doctorate are you going for, if I can ask? Music's fine."

>>4658047
Or some toxicology work that's discovered dragon venom.

>>4658061
Yeah, I just cancelled my card, so that's 3-5 days without credit card spending I'll have to deal with.
>>4658060
>>4658047
"What kind of doctorate are you going for, if I can ask? Music's fine." You ask, leaning your head into the cold window.

"Right on." He replies quietly, playing more music you only vaguely recognize. This one, you are almost certain you've heard before - beginning with a loud, raucous laugh and a slick bassline, a tortured, thin voice crooning quietly; "Feel good--", pushing noise through the speakers in the doors, up through your skin.

"Doctorate in bioinformatics. Masters in... heh-hem -- Computational Biology and Quantitative Genetics." He recites, like he was reading it off his diploma. "Basically, teaching computers how to read genetic information. Took a little break after my Master's to work at a coroner's office, now I'm going back. Reclaiming my life, you know. Away from the drudgework and the dumb office politics."

You laugh. "There's office politics at a coroner's office?" You ask, raising an eyebrow against the window.

"You'd be surprised. A lot of people higher up on the ladder from me making decisions I couldn't agree with." He said, laughing with barely hidden bitterness. "No offense, but these... you know, these guys in charge, you can be rude to a brother even when he's dead."

>"What sort of rude?" [Innocent]
>Try to pick up what he's laying down. "Like... being racist to the dead people? That sounds rough." [Empathetic]
>"Did you work in, like, a police coroner's office? Like on CSI?" [Curious]
>Free Option.

>>4659463
>"Did you work in, like, a police coroner's office? Like on CSI?" [Curious]

>>4659463
>Try to pick up what he's laying down. "Like... being racist to the dead people? That sounds rough." [Empathetic]
>Free Option.
>"Um...how were they disrespectful, if you don't mind me asking? Like, was this a forensics thing, not investigating causes of death they'd take seriously with other people?"

>>4659463
>>Try to pick up what he's laying down. "Like... profiling the dead? Going after their living family? That sounds rough." [Empathetic]
the start of killing people with the "dragon gene"

>>4659786
My guess is that he's gotten caught up on the fringes of investigating dragon attacks. That's why he's tripping our alchemical sense, he's been exposed to trace amounts of dragon venom while examining the bodies of the victims. And then when nobody follows up on the killings, he comes away thinking it's just institutional racism (and, in fairness, that might also be happening) instead of a shadowy conspiracy dedicated to suppressing evidence of the existence of the supernatural.

>>4659817
It's not even a conspiracy, nobody just remembers the victims existed.

>>4659817
Though now that I think of it, don't dragons devour their victims? There should be no bodies left.

>>4659852
That too. But there should still be bodies left behind for the authorities to identify as John Does, right? Or would people not be able to notice those and they just get left to rot? Now I'm not sure.

>>4659856
They devour type O-alpha victims. I don't know if they eat everyone they kill. Even if they do, there are probably people who get killed in a rampage and that the dragon doesn't have time too eat before it gets killed or has to run.

>>4659463
>Try to pick up what he's laying down. "Like... being racist to the dead people? That sounds rough." [Empathetic]

No update tonight, I have to wake up at 8 AM to help a family member move out of their apartment. Will try to give you an afternoon update after I'm done with that.

>>4659752
>>4659786
>>4659874
You lean forward just a little, trying to pick up the subtext he's not saying out loud. "Like... Profiling the dead? Going after living family? How exactly were they disrespectful, if you don't mind me asking?"

He waved a hand across his face, almost a little dismissively, laughing. "Bunch of ways. Like... I worked for an." He says, stopping to think for phrasing. Presumably this is some sensitive information he's leaking out to a random kid in an Uber. "I worked for an independent coroner's office, not directly with the police one. So you'd have people stopping in with second opinions a lot - a lot of "Oh, there were drugs in his system, oh it was heart failure, oh he had a stroke,", and you go in and it's like, bam, busted clavicle, bam, strangulation marks." He says, shaking his head slowly, every passing streetlight illuminating him in a zombie-like yellow glow, if only for a moment. "And it's always, y'know. Never any problems with the average corpses. And then there's sometimes where they send in a John Doe and just... ditch them?" He says, sighing.

"You alright?" You ask, after a moment.

"Yeah, sorry, shouldn't be dumping all this on a random passenger." He says, waving his hand in front of his face again.

You lift a hand in the air and wave him off, matching his dismissive gesture. "Don't worry about it, this stuff's none of my business. My mouth's shut. What's a John Doe?"

"It's a corpse that doesn't have any identifying information. We get a lot of them around these parts." He says, and something about the way he just casually recognizes this fact makes your blood run icy for a moment. "They bring them in, and it's usually some brother just... Gone beyond repair, and then they won't take 'em back. Say they never had a record of this John, or Jane, or whateverthefuck. So, I guess if a police officer ever approaches you at night you should probably try to avoid them, haha. Don't wanna get thrown in whatever animal pit they're shredding IDs with."

"Are you worried, like, loose lips sinks ships and all that?" You ask, genuinely a little concerned. Your face feels hot and flushed, although it can't be seen under the darkness of the car's interior. "I mean, this is some serious stuff, it sounds like?"

"Yeah, we're workin' on it. I'm workin' on it." He says, before quietly correcting himself.

>"Who's we?" [Prying]
>"Do you get a lot of wild animal attacks around here?" [Inquisitive]
>"Do you think there's, like, a serial killer?" [Imaginative]
>Stay silent.
>Free Option.

>>4662689
>"Do you think there's, like, a serial killer?" [Imaginative]

>>4662689
>"Do you think there's, like, a serial killer?" [Imaginative]

>>4662689
>>"Do you think there's, like, a serial killer?" [Imaginative]

>>4662689
>"Do you think there's, like, a serial killer?" [Imaginative]

>>4662689
>>"Do you think there's, like, a serial killer?" [Imaginative]

>>4662930
>>4663031
>>4663114
>>4663123
>>4663515
You decide to ignore his slip of the tongue, possibly assuming that it was just that - a slip, and instead try to pry him more for thoughts. A part of you feels odd about this, but then you pretty quickly remember that you kind-of-sort-of work for the Dragon Police, so this kind of counts as investigation. "Do you think there's, like, a serial killer?"

James laughs, throwing his head back for a moment before refocusing his vision on the road in front of him. "Maybe. Or a big fuckin' dog."

Your heart sinks a little bit lower. "I'll keep an eye out and put animal control on speed dial."

He laughs. "'Atta boy! At least, I'm assuming boy, you ain't got a whisker on you."

"Something like that." You mumble, leaning your head against the cold window. For a second, you think you see something in the distance, in the trees, looking back at you for just a glimmer of a second, and then the hair on the back of your neck stands up.

Then James speaks up again, and your hair stands up just a little bit further. "Whoof. You feeling that?... Feels like we just hit some nasty vibes in the air, lil' man." He says, trying to sound nonchalant about it, grabbing his mirror and adjusting it a little bit. He puts both hands on the steering wheel.

>"Huh? No, I didn't feel anything."
>"...On the back of your neck, too?"
>Stay silent.
>Free Option.

>>4666160
>"...On the back of your neck, too?"

>>4666160
>>"...On the back of your neck, too?"

>>4666160
>"...On the back of your neck, too?"

If we're lucky, it's a Dragon. If we're unlucky, someone else has one of these bio-alchemy manuals and their homunculus managed to escape into the wild.

>>4666336
>>4666244
>>4666172
"On the back of your neck, too?" You ask, after a second of thought. You catch his eyes glancing at you in the mirror, and you look away as they narrow slightly. You aren't sure if he's narrowing your gaze at you, or at something else entirely.

You feel a static in the air, getting closer. A shadow scrapes across the street, passing through to the other side, shrouding the car in darkness for a moment. The most you can make out is the shape of batlike wings.

James's fingers grip the steering wheel tighter. "Lil' man, do you ever get the feeling that you just walked into a particularly bad day?"

"Frequently." You joke, looking out the other window. A large, almost familiar shape perches on a nearby tree before slipping out of view from the car's speed, and then a moment later, catching back up, on wide, leathery wings.

>"Either someone slipped me some shrooms, or we are being chased by a very large bat." [Matter-of-fact]
>"Just ignore it and it'll go away. Maybe put the pedal to the medal." [Frightened]
>"What the hell is that thing?" Ask knowing full well what it almost certainly is. [Sly]
>Free Option.

>>4667694
>"Either someone slipped me some shrooms, or we are being chased by a very large bat." [Matter-of-fact]

>>4667694
Matter of fact

>>4667694
>"Either someone slipped me some shrooms, or we are being chased by a very large bat." [Matter-of-fact]
>Free Option.
>Pre-dial Ken's number in our phone, just in case some shit goes down and we need to call for backup.

The "almost familiar" part has me worried. We only know two Dragons, Saint and Bulldog. Saint is way bigger than this, and Bulldog probably isn't stalking us since they just want to be left alone when they're not having a "fun" fight to the death. So why does this Dragon look familiar? Hopefully it's me being paranoid and jumping at nothing, and it's just Noah commenting on the familiarity of seeing leathery-winged reptilian monsters in general.

>>4667694
>"Either someone slipped me some shrooms, or we are being chased by a very large bat." [Matter-of-fact]

>>4667694
>>"Either someone slipped me some shrooms, or we are being chased by a very large bat." [Matter-of-fact]

>>4668523
>>4667858
>>4667696
>>4667699
>>4667844
"Either someone slipped me some shrooms, or we are being chased by a very large bat." You observe dryly, only moments before whatever is chasing you slams into the ground in front of the car. Your head gets rocketed into the window as James swerves to avoid it, cussing like a madman, almost hopping the median, and something barrels out from the trees, past the car, into whatever just almost crushed the two of you.

You turn your head around to look, watching as another Dragon, with clawed, wide wings, a drooping, cobra-like hood, and a razor sharp smile reaches down and begins to strangle the first one. "Correction: I believe we are now being chased by two very large bats."

"No need to tell me twice! Hold on, lil' man - I'll deal with the tickets later." James yells, slamming his foot onto the pedal and rocketing through a red light. You pull your phone up, checking the time left, an estimated four minutes.

Just four minutes left. James glances at you in the mirror, and then adjusts it so he can see behind the car better. "You wouldn't happen to have any clue what the fuck that thing is, would you, lil' man?" He ask-yells as the first Dragon wrestles Saint off of it, pressing them down into the concrete, headbutting them hard enough to daze, and then vanishing back into the sky. You can only catch a tiny glimpse of it, and your intuition tells you immediately that it's another Wyvern-type, and some small part of you hates that you know that by heart. The same batlike wings, the way green fire pools around its teeth as it flies, a long, ankylosaur-like tail swaying around in the wind like the end of a flail. Just before they vanish over the curve of the road, Saint gets up and rockets off into the sky as well, and all is quiet.

>"Two very large bats, at least one of which is trying to kill us and the other one seems to be protecting us." [Snarky]
>Ignore James, call Ken or someone else. [Panicked]
>"This is going to sound insane, but those are Dragons and one of them is probably trying to kill me in particular." [Straightforward]
>Free Option.

>>4669389
>"This is going to sound insane, but those are Dragons and one of them is probably trying to kill me in particular." [Straightforward]

>>4669389
>"Two very large bats, at least one of which is trying to kill us and the other one seems to be protecting us." [Snarky]
I get the feeling they're aiming for James. Maybe seeded him with blood venom bait, seeing how he's noticed the dragon?

>"I know a guy who's got guns and shit, let's go there!"
>Direct him to FOODS
by the time we get there, we'll at least confirm that they're being targeted specifically.

>>4669398
Supporting this. He can see them so we might as well secure help

>>4669389
>"This is going to sound insane, but those are Dragons and one of them is probably trying to kill me in particular." [Straightforward]
>>Free Option.
>"The other one might be on our side, maybe? It's complicated."
>"Just keep driving, and tell me if you spot one of them again. I'm going to call help."
>Call Ken, ask what the protocol is for being hunted by Dragons in the middle of the night is. Is there anyone available to rescue us, or if not are there any safehouses we can flee to?

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>4669443
>>4669397
1
>>4669398
>>4669419
2

>>4669419
>>4669398
"Two very large bats, at least one of which is trying to kill us and the other one seems to be protecting us." You say, trying not to sound too sarcastic about it. You look at the map, watching the car trace its path out across the road while the air remains still and quiet and full of tension.

"Yeah, thanks." James replies, white-knuckle staring at the road ahead.

"I know a guy who's got guns and shit, let's go there?" You suggest, as it comes to mind. You're not actually 100% certain that there are guns at FOODS HQ, but at the very least, there is a Ken there and it's a close enough rallying point for other helpful people in an emergency.

"Oh yeah? What's the address? I'm not going to ask why you know people with guns, lil' man." James asks. When you tell him, he slows down the car just enough so that he can turn his head towards you and stare at you directly for a moment. "So you mean we should take a u-turn and drive directly back the way we came, towards the two angry giant bats, yeah?"

You look at your feet. It does sound a little silly when it's said out loud like that. "Yeah, sorry."

He laughs it off, waving his hand in front of his face and hitting the pedal again. "Don't worry about it, wouldn't be the silliest thing I've heard in a life threatening situation. We're gonna get to your place, and then I'm going to call the police, and we'll figure things out from there. Not gonna ditch you to the angry bats, though."

>"I don't think the police are going to be able to help with this. Haven't you ever seen the X-Files?"
>Remain silent and keep an eye out for the Dragons.
>"Aye aye, captain."
>Free Option.

>>4670593
But you've rolled a 1?
>"I don't think the police are going to be able to help with this. Haven't you ever seen the X-Files?"

>>4670606
Ah, fuck me, you know what happened, I saw the 2 at the end of 1d2 and it was 3 in the morning and my brain misremembered once I got around to actually writing an hour later. My sincerest apologies.

>>4670593
>"Aye aye, captain."
James is going to get into a lot of government related trouble

>>4670593
>"Aye aye, captain."
>Free Option.
>Call Ken, warn her we're on our way.

Unfortunately will not have time again tonight, must watch the sick doggo tomorrow for the parental units and need to be up early to drive. Apologies, readers.

>>4671694
No worries, Richard. I hope the dog gets well and your drive is without traffic.

>>4670773
>>4670612
"Aye aye, captain." You say, dialing Ken's number, letting it ring, and... listening to it go to voicemail. James frantically drives forward, looking for a place to perform a u-turn, while you call again, to no avail. Your heart turns to stone and drops down into your balls as it goes to voicemail a third time, so you just hang up and text her, hoping that at least if she is okay and just passed out from exhaustion that she can be kept abreast of the situation.

noah/<Two dragons attacking uber>
noah/<Both wyvern-types, oen of them is trying to kill the other one>
noah/<other one wants something in the car unsure if me or driver or both>
noah/<or ??? something else>
noah/<Please text me back ASAP>

Your heart pumps a couple of times, blood flooding into your ears.

noah/<I'm scared.>

Then, you grab your honing steel tightly with one hand, prepare to rip a new finger open on an almost empty stomach, and slip your phone into your pocket after turning the ringer on so you'll hear if you get a call or text back.

"Your friend not awake?" James asked, laughing nervously.

"Guess he took an early night." You groan, wincing internally.

"That's fine. I'm packing anyway. Brother's gotta defend himself in a town like this." He tells you, which only makes you feel slightly better at the fact that you're not completely unarmed (and then you remind yourself that you also have a car to hit things with).

There's a loud, uproarous TSEERoooAAAUUGH, a rippling combination of animal noises as Saint swoops down in front of the car, carrying the other Dragon by the throat and ramming it through a streetlight, and then through a tree, and then vanishing. For a moment, you hear them shouting, "NO!", and then the noise is swallowed up by the leaves. Highway pulls off into edge-of-city suburbs, and you hear a loud, firm CRUNCH behind you, which you hope is Saint punching the other Dragon through one of the noise barriers and not the other way around.

"New plan: I'm gonna park a couple of blocks away from your address and call the police. I'm sure they have a... fuckin'... anti giant bat division. Can't imagine we're the first. It's safer to be around other people, maybe there's an alleyway they can't fit into." James explains, gunning it down residential roads, blowing through yellow lights, screeching around curves at dangerous speeds.

>Stay silent. [Capitulating]
>"We need to circle around and head back to where you picked me up. I don't think the police are equipped to handle this, I can wake my friend up." [Fearful]
>"You're the adult here, not me." [Joking]
>Roll the window down and try to call out to Saint. [Bold]
>Free Option.

>>4673601
>"We need to circle around and head back to where you picked me up. I don't think the police are equipped to handle this, I can wake my friend up." [Fearful]

>>4673601
>Free Option.
>"Yeah, okay, an alley. Sounds good. But look for one with a door to the buildings, so we can get inside and away from entrances. Don't worry about locks, I can handle that."
>Text Hyde next, silently cursing the lack of a central dispatch number for FOODS.

>>4674069
1
>>4673603
2

Have to be up at 6 for my new job's first day so I'm rolling this out and then will do an afternoon update when the time frees up. Apologies.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>4675225
FUCKING

>>4675225
>Have to be up at 6
God, you have it rough.

>>4675228
I am so frustrated by my inability to post on 4chan correctly that I am going to just go immediately back on the thing I said and handle this now. Fuck.

>>4674069
"Yeah, okay, an alley. Sounds good. But look for one with a door to the buildings, so we can get inside and away from entrances. Don't worry about locks, I can handle that." You tell the man. He puts petal to floor, curling the car around dangerous curves and rolling past townhouses.

"You know, I'm just not going to ask why you are good at picking locks and instead just trust you know what you're doing." He jokes, jerking the car to the side as a burst of flame shoots forward from the sky, narrowly landing on his car. "Whoa, nelly! Almost home, baby." He says, snapping open his glove compartment and watching a very real pistol tumble out and onto his other seat. Your brain immediately tells you that that doesn't seem like a great place to store a gun, but what do you know - you've never owned or shot one.

You text Hyde silently, cursing the lack of a central dispatch number for FOODS.

noah/<Hyde, are you awake>
noah/<Please.>
hyde/<Yeah, I'm up, kid, what's the beef?>
noah/<I'm in an Uber. Two wyverns attacking. One wants to kill us the other is attacking the other.>
hyde/<I'm not going to remark on how interesting that is and instead just send out an all points bulletin to central.>
noah/<You have a central dispatch????>
hyde/<Noah, we're a federal law enforcement agency, of course we do. Address?>

You send it to him as an attachment.

hyde/<Sorry if I seem terse. I imagine you wouldn't like a lot of joking right now.>
noah/<You'd be right.>
noah/<Thanks, Hyde. And send someone to check in on Ken>
noah/<She's passed out at HQ.>
noah/<It's.>
noah/<It's been a long night.>
hyde/<I can imagine.>
hyde/<Just stay safe and stay covered.>
hyde/<Help's on the way.>

"Help's on the way." You say, loud enough for James to hear as he skids to a halt next to an alley a couple blocks down from your house. He grabs his gun and immediately racks and cocks it, or at least what you imagine those actions are, slamming a container of bullets (of which you can never remember the distinction between "clip" and "magazine") into the chamber and readying it for firing.

"Eh?" James asks, scrambling over the middle section of the car to press the passenger side open. "Heh, alright, lil' man. Let's not burn daylight."

>Follow him into the alleyway.
>Take off into the streets.
>Call out for Saint.
>Free Option.

>>4675243
>Follow him into the alleyway.

>>4675243
>>Follow him into the alleyway.

>>4675225
Oh my. Well, I hope you managed to get some sleep and that your first day is going well.

>>4675243
>hyde/<Noah, we're a federal law enforcement agency, of course we do. Address?>
Kind of useless if nobody knows what it is because you're a secret law enforcement agency, Hyde.

>Follow him into the alleyway.
Got to stick together. I don't think either of us is getting out of this without the other's help. And James seems like a cool guy.

>>4675243
>Follow him into the alleyway.

>>4675562
I didn't sleep great or nap well so my sleep schedule's a little hitched up, hopefully I'll be able to nap it out.
>>4676669
>>4675475
>>4675270
"Kind of useless to have a dispatch if nobody knows it exists, Hyde..." You mumble to yourself as James throws you a glance, discarding his car behind him like it doesn't mean much, both hands holding his pistol steady. Part of you wished you were enough of a gun nerd to recognize it on sight - it's firm looking, powerful, big, made of well defined rectangles with only a slight angle to them in the handle. It looks like the sort of pistol that could really punch a hole in things.

It's a shame it probably doesn't mean much against a Dragon. You follow James, holding your honing steel steady, your thumb pressed dangerously hard against its surface, feeling like you're at risk of bending the steel even though you know logically that that's impossible. You follow James, down, further into the dark of the alleyway, lit only by the occasional outdoor lamp and the lights from the unassuming people that you know for a fact can't see nor hear the screams and cries in the distance, the bursts of flame in the air lighting up the clouds.

Ironically, you feel even more helpless than if you'd never have known they were there. You and James both huddle behind the same dumpster, taking you out of the field of view of the streets, only slightly muffling the sounds of violence that are all the more audible now without a layer of metal insulating you from them.

>James has to have been attacked by a Dragon at some point in his life, or is on magic pills. Try to pry for answers.
>Now is not a time to be doing anything stupid. Just try to quiet your breath, sit there, and wait. You're almost out of energy, James only has a gun. Just wait until FOODS gets there.
>Free Option.

>>4677150
>James has to have been attacked by a Dragon at some point in his life, or is on magic pills. Try to pry for answers.

>>4677150
>Just keep texting details while we wait. We've already talked about the magic pills, and clarifying where we are to them is still a good idea

>>4677150
>Now is not a time to be doing anything stupid. Just try to quiet your breath, sit there, and wait. You're almost out of energy, James only has a gun. Just wait until FOODS gets there.
>Free Option.
>Without moving from hiding, look around for fallback points. Further places to retreat to, up to and including transmuting a door or window open if we have no better options.

Have to be up early tomorrow again, so, leaving this up and if there's no tiebreaker post I'll roll dice among the three posts and then update during the afternoon.

Nobody told me I'd have to deal with so much paperwork and waking up early for introductory meetings when I took the job :'(

Rolled 3 (1d3)

>>4677159
>>4677165
>>4677338

Apologies for this afternoon update becoming a midnight one - as if my March couldn't be getting any possibly worse, a couple of hours ago the webbing between my index and middle fingers just split open apropos of nothing, and the bandaid there (and also pain of rubbing alcohol) is making typing a bit of a chore. Apologies.
>>4677338
Now isn't the time to be doing anything stupid. You press your back up against a dumpster while James eyes the area around you warily, and you quickly follow suit, scanning for places you can fall back to. Not many back doors here, just one that certainly looks locked from the outside, a couple of windows, all of which have air conditioners stuffed into them, and the other end of the alleyway, which has a single dumpster that you could probably knock a fire escape down from if you really needed to and put in the legwork for it.

You quiet your breath up the most you can, which makes your heart pump a little harder in your ear. You hear the shrieking and flames in the distance, as two Dragons clash with each other for... dominance? Food? You have no idea, really, you just know that they're both out there, screaming into the sky, and occasionally you hear the loud snap of something heavy being knocked over or plowed into and you imagine that Saint is winning - at least they don't want to kill you on sight.

The moments pass. James's gun remains loaded, and he glances at it every so often. Eventually, the sound of roaring Dragons seems to clear out, but you both stay there, waiting. "Your help, how's it hanging, lil' man?" James asked, quiet as a mouse.

Just in time, too - you look around the edge of the dumpster at the arriving motorbikes screeching to a halt, fanning out across the roads, kicking their kickstands out onto the sidewalk. Apparently, either there's a biker gang nearby you haven't heard about, or FOODS is more of a motorcycle kind of organization than a car one. You suppose that makes sense - there's rarely any need to transport suspects, and motorcycles are probably easier to alchemically manipulate with less mass, not to mention more nimble. Your money's on FOODS. "Speaking of the devil..." You reply, slowly working yourself out onto your knees in the alleyway, blinking tiredness and fear out of your eyes.

A small crowd of people, men and women (mostly men) sweeps flashlights across the alleyways and buildings, confident they won't be caught or seen by any sleepers, or joggers out at this hour of night. One of them sweeps over you, and you raise your hands up, the man in a navy blue button-down rolled up to the elbows shouting a "Hey! You there! Fraternal Order of Dragon Slayers, stay where you are!", flashing a badge at you.

"...Fraternal Order of what?"James mutters, just loud enough for you to hear.

>Free Option.

>>4680100
>Tell them it was us who made the call
>Relay what happened, but don't mention Saint.

>>4680100
Oh wow, that sounds very unpleasant. Was it a large split?

Supporting >>4680214. We shouldn't be in trouble, we did everything right. If need be defend the story with more details, like explaining that while we are O-alpha we didn't have any spilled blood for a Dragon to respond to, or that James was somehow already inoculated when we got here.

>>4680752
Looks to be about the width of my pinky nail, but vertically. Not very deep. Unsure how it happened - I'm horrifically afraid of sharp objects and try to avoid them in my day-to-day life whenever possible.

>>4680754
Could be because of dry skin. Something similar happened to me. Shit’s freaky.

Supporting >>4680214, with a healthy side of “it’s about time you guys showed up. I contacted Noah ages ago.”

I think the name drop might help here.

>>4680803
Contacted Hyde, you mean. We're Noah.

>>4680808
Right. God damn I’m tired.

>>4680214
>>4680752
>>4680803
"Hey, hey, hey! I made the call in, I texted Hyde ages ago - it's about time you guys showed up!" You yell, unable to resist flicking your eyes over to James, watching his face scrunch up and his eyes narrow. You project your voice outward like you're doing a presentation for class, trying to sound far more confident than you actually are.

The man, thankfully, lowers his flashlight, which is great because it was starting to make your eyes sting. You take a couple of slow steps forward. "Right, found the kid. Any sign of those Wyvern-types?" The man asks to the small crowd of FOODS officers, but you don't hear the answer.

You flick your head towards James for a moment, and he looks rattled. Startlingly so. "You good?" You whisper to him.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna chill here behind this here dumpster for a little bit. You go on with your bad self, or whatever." He says. "I don't trust no Fraternal Order of jack shit, sorry, lil' man."

"No signs of 'em, kid. Did ping a radio about 10 minutes ago but nothing since then, likely they've cleared the area. We'll keep a couple officers with you to keep watch for the rest of the night - you live close by?"

>Shrug your shoulders and step out into the light. "Yeah, my house is just a couple blocks away."
>Try to cajole him into entering the safety with you.
>Free Option.

>>4681635
>Try to cajole him into entering the safety with you.

>>4681635
James, I get it, you're a black man and these are police, there's going to be mistrust here. Hell, not just police, secret monster-hunter police with a crazy name, you're right to be worried by that. We don't fully trust them, either, we're still open to the possibility that they're doing evil eugenics murders. But, for all that...they got your car, man. They can run the license plates. What, you think they're not going to follow up on that? You think the secret super-sketchy monster police aren't going to follow up on any potential witnesses to the monster attack? I don't see how you can hide from this.

Of course, I don't see how we can convince you of that in a quick way, either. They're expecting a response, we don't have the time to whisper an explanation of how all this alchemy bullshit works. Just trying to talk to you would give away that you're here, which you would not be happy about us doing. Tricky issue, this. I've been writing and erasing a response for like an hour now. Okay, let's try this.

>Free Option.
>To the officer: "Yeah. Just give me a moment, please? Sorry, it's been a big night, kind of crashing now."
>Make a show of deflating and looking exhausted. It shouldn't be hard.
>To James: "You sure? I think I get it, but those Dragons are still out there. And you might have to deal with FOODS anyway, if they investigate potential witnesses. Do whatever you think will make you safest, man, and I hope it works."

It's the best I've got that doesn't involve giving him a long exposition about how we had to call FOODS since anyone else we called wouldn't be able to see Dragons, and how FOODS can easily tell whether he was a witness on this scene just by dosing up and then seeing if he responds when they call for his attention. It's not great, I feel like there's a better way to phrase it, but it's the best I have.

>>4681635
>Try to cajole him into entering the safety with you.
“Trust me: that thing you’re looking into is gonna lead you here sooner or later. If you can notice any of this stuff, you’re already in deeper than you thought and if you want answers, you might be able to get them much sooner than you’re expecting to.”

If he doesn’t join us, wish him luck in staying safe and to listen to that feeling he got before those dragons showed up. This night’s been crazy.

>>4682148
Ooh, that's a good angle, leading him to the idea that the mysterious animal attacks are related to those two dragons he just saw. Come on, James, don't try to deny they were dragons. They were breathing fire, man.

>>4681671
>>4682148
>>4682170
“Trust me: that thing you’re looking into is gonna lead you here sooner or later. If you can notice any of this stuff, you’re already in deeper than you thought and if you want answers, you might be able to get them much sooner than you’re expecting to.” You say, making a show of deflating somewhat. It's not very hard - this night has been incredibly rough, you're running on almost empty, you've had to deal with forbidden magic and not one but two dragons both trying to possibly kill you. It's all quite a lot. "C'mon, let's not try to deny they were Dragons. They were big and had wings and were breathing fire."

James stares at you with a mixture of disgust and sadness slowly spreading out, like a wave traveling first from his nose, wrinkling up, and then out to his eyes and face, and finally his forehead, cheeks, and chin. "I'll take my chances."

"You're gonna have to come out of the alleyway eventually. You're pretty cool, I think it would suck if you got merked once everyone clears out." You say, standing up and stretching your arms up over your head, yawning quietly.

"Kid! What's the hold up?" The mostly anonymous FOODS agent yells down the alleyway. You give one last look back at James.

"It's nothing against you, kid. The lawmen and I just don't get along." He says, a tone in his voice leaving things unsaid. You feel a little bit of a punch to the stomach, for reasons you don't really have the vocabulary to articulate yet.

"Yeah, I'm down the street and round the block." You tell the officer, stepping out fully from the dumpster and walking out into the street. The officer tosses you a protein bar.

"Don't want to go to sleep on an empty stomach in days like this." He says, and you nod, taking one last look back at the alleyway while you walk away, down the sidewalk. You see James getting up and standing, his head just barely peeking over the top of the dumpster, getting a little bit smaller from perspective while he walks down towards the back of the alleyway.

You sigh quietly, leaving the alleyway behind.

BANG!

Commotion on the streets as pretty much everyone nearby converges on the alleyway, and you're no different in that regard. You count at least three crossbows getting readied, only one officer actually seems to have a gun. You cautiously look around the corner of the alleyway, watching it fill with smoke from a broken air conditioner venting its pressurized refrigerant or however the hell air conditioners work, dousing the alleyway in a fine white mist.

You look up, noticing that the fire escape's ladder has been pulled down. The mist clears in a minute or so, and there's no sign of James. "Sweep the area!" Another FOODS officer yells, drawing a long, straight sword with a flat tip from a scabbard, flanked by two of the officers with crossbows, cautiously stepping forward into the alleyway.

>>4682988
The officer that talked to you first thumps a hand onto your shoulder. "You alright, kid? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

>"I think I might've." [Glib]
>"...No, I'm fine. Can you guys escort me home now?" [Somber]
>Free Option.

>>4682988
>"...No, I'm fine. Can you guys escort me home now?" [Somber]

>>4682992
>"...No, I'm fine. Can you guys escort me home now?" [Somber]
Well, that was a mess. Like I said, I understand his caution, but I really think that running is only going to make things more dangerous for him in the long run. Oh well, it's not like we can fix the legacy of fear that institutional racism has produced in this country in just a single night, let's just go home and hope things are less sociologically murky in the morning. Stay safe, James, and don't let your life get too messed up having to evade FOODS. Especially now that you've tipped them of that there was definitely a witness to this. You couldn't have waited a bit longer?

Although, dang, some good parkour skills, there. I wonder if whatever weird alchemical interaction is going on with him is giving him physical enhancements. Are you a superhero, James? Is that what your talk about you and your friends fixing things was, are you doing vigilante crimefighting? I'm only half-joking, it seems plausible.

>>4682992
>>"...No, I'm fine. Can you guys escort me home now?" [Somber]
>So what do I tell my mom?

No update for tonight because I just got back from the city - my boyfriend got his second shot on Wednesday so I've burnt all my reserved energy for task doing hanging out with him. Will be ending and archiving the thread in the next update or two.

Thanks for reading! I hope you are all enjoying it - it feels great as a QM to see that my consistency in updating almost every single day has caused the amount of readers to actually grow. I was very much prepared to accept that this would be a two-response-per-update quest forever, and I'm forever grateful it's ending up not like that.

>>4684943
Glad to hear you had a good time with your man, and that your expectations for this quest are being exceeded. You're making a really neat world here, and I look forward to seeing where it goes.

>>4684943
Just got caught up with the quest; hope you two enjoy your time together! Between all the bad things happening to you, I'm convinced the QM's curse is a real thing...

>>4682992
>>"...No, I'm fine. Can you guys escort me home now?" [Somber]

>>4685513
>>4683185
>>4683037
>>4683036
"...No, I'm fine. Can you guys escort me home now?" You ask. The officer gives you a solemn, understanding nod.

"Long night?" He asks, as the two of you walk down the sidewalk. Everyone around the two of you, probably an entire... platoon or squadron or whatever, you imagine has been dosed with dragon blood, judging by how un-subtly they're sweeping the area with their weaponry, most of which is archaic. You count a number of swords - mostly swords, in fact, with the occasional crossbow or normal compound bow, and even more rarely, a gun; you count only two.

A part of you realizes the counterproductivity of this, that if there was someone who could see them that they were looking for they'd very clearly notice how ostenatiously they were sweeping the area. And then another part of you theorizes that maybe that's the point, to just keep it clear so you can get home safely. If someone didn't know they were there, and they were gunning for you, then maybe they'd be able to barrel through people and cause an unnecessary ruckus.

You get home, and open the front door with an officer standing right behind you. Your mom is snoring, quietly and peacefully, on the couch, with a lukewarm dinner sitting on the coffee table and wrapped in tin foil for you. "We'll keep watch for you the rest of the night." The officer says.

You walk inside, grab the food, and, in sort of a daze, walk to the kitchen to get a fork. Then, the officer shuts the front door, and your mom doesn't wake up, so you slowly amble up the stairs.

You sit on your bed quietly and eat your power bar after unwrapping it, tossing the crinkly wrapper one-handed into your little trash can. Then, you eat dinner, and pass out.

>>4687296
Thanks for reading - you can find the archive here;

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4645229/

Thread #7 soon - not tonight, probably tomorrow, no later than Wednesday.

>>4687303
Thanks for running!

>>4687303
Thanks for running, Richard. See you next time.

Next thread:

>>4688819