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"Lost the job lottery again." He shrugged his burly shoulders and scratched at his neck. "Can't say much else."

"Yeah..." You dry at your face with a towel by the sink, stepping aside to let someone else pass behind you. "At least you got work last week, right?"

"Mhmm." Sigmund rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "Can still eat for another week, maybe two if I stretch my rations."

"Hum." You throw a towel over your shoulder. "I know we'll make rent this month, so we don't have to worry about that... food and water are still under ration..." You fold your arms and think. "Maybe I could-" You flinch at a faint boom in the distance. The heads of multiple people in the crowd jerk and look towards the horizon to an explosion of colored sparks raining down from the docks.

"Fireworks?" Sigmund muttered, relaxing. "Must be the festival."

"Festival?" You can't keep the dry note out of your voice. "I get a galleon of water a day and we're throwing a festival?"

"I guess it is that time of year..." Sigmund noted wistfully. "It has to be midwinters."

"What, a harvest festival?"

"Something like that." Sigmund nodded.

"Seems like a waste of resources right now."

"People are just happy to be alive." He nodded. "They want to be thankful they're still here."

"Still here..." You murmur. "It's something."

"Yeah..." Sigmund thought for a moment, then turned. "Would you like to go see it?"

"Eh? But, we don't really have the time..."

"Neither of us are working. Come on." He said gently, stepping closer.

"I- well, fine." You sigh, eyes roving over him.

>Let me wrap up here and we'll go.
>I'll drop this stuff off back home and get ready. Wait for me?

No prep, barely a skeleton of how it goes, only chaos. Votes will close in... eh, few hours? Whenever I get a chance next?

>>5166088
>>I'll drop this stuff off back home and get ready. Wait for me?

>>5166089
Let's fucking gooo

>>5166088
>I'll drop this stuff off back home and get ready. Wait for me?
LET'S ROCK FUCKERS

Where are we, anyway? Are we not at home?

>>5166088
>I'll drop this stuff off back home and get ready. Wait for me?

>>5166089
It's good to see you back, was wandering when this was going to turn up again.

>>5166102
First error I noticed, forgot to include the date and location header:

Planet Tagara
1948th Year of Pilgrimage
1st Year of Humility

Ration Center No. 7, Miir, 1st Floor
8th of 13th, 1154. 6:37PM.

>>5166103
As always, suffering from a critical lack of time. But for a special day I'll make time gosh dangit.

Aight yeah we'll close it here, got time for an update.

>I'll drop this stuff off back home and get ready. Wait for me?
Somehow I knew people would leap at the opportunity to get dressed up.

>>5166335
I thought we were just nipping back home to drop off the groceries so we didn't have to lug them around but, sure, we can dress up too.

>>5166379
I'm not sure what it says about my writing that my options are thought to be this mundane.

WE'RE FUCKING BACK

VALKANS A SHIT
TAGARA #1
KILL ALL CHIPHEADS

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You glance away, then back to Sigmund, reaching back and pulling your ration jug off the sink and cradling it in your arms. "I'll drop this stuff off back home and get ready. Wait for me?"

Sigmund nods. "I have something I can take care of."

"Okay." You smile briefly at him. Is that too familiar? The two of you barely know each other... "I'll be back." You think about smiling... but you've been doing that too much already, so instead you turn and scurry back through the crowd. Throngs of people were starting to move into the converted stadium as shifts ended and domestic elevators began rising from the lower floors. It wasn't an ideal place to be when going the other way- pickpockets were rare, but present, so you tucked your head in and pushed your way to the side of the crowd before sliding out of the side entryway.

Rows of nearly identical cars waited for you outside, all mass-produced under metal and fuel rationing during the war, but subsequently painted and customized by their owners in countless cheap ways to make them more personal. Fording the clustered parking lot and avoiding small families shoving their weekly rations and child bonus rations into the trunks, you found a worn, but not yet rusty beater.

It was older than the mass-produced models, an old Avel family hatchback. Apparently quite sportly back in the day... or so the Tagaran internet and one of your friends at work tells you. Honestly, it just looked like a junker to you. A junker that was very special to you...

The door automatically unlocks when you wrap your hand around the handle, and you slide in easily. Hello, Tela.

Hello, Kallis. Tela responded. Everything go well?

Fine, thank you. You smile and flip the power switch absentmindedly. It didn't actually do anything beyond looking real of course, seeing as Tela was a warskin. Perhaps a necessary deception, but one that had quickly become habitual. Ignoring the dummy switch being flipped, Tela casually engaged your link.

Closing your eyes, you soaked in the feeling of asphalt pressing into your tires. Half of your back was warm from the setting sun cutting across the floor and warming your rear canopy. Your teeth oddly itched from the disassembled weapons hidden within Tela's hull, and the gases that built up in your armor after too long spent in atmosphere. You remember running shakedown drifts in orbit after long missions planetside, letting the worries of planetary life seep from your shared skin...

Opening your eyes, you shake the memories out and pull out of your parking spot, glancing over your shoulder as you turned out onto the road, following the still somewhat empty exit lane out into the city. You didn't need to actually look yourself of course, you were perfectly aware that there was no one present, but it was another habit adopted after one too many passengers panicking on the highway.

You rest an arm on the door as you join the skyway crossing the first floor.

We're coming back? Tela chittered through your link.

Hm? Oh, so it seems. You sigh, tilting your head and glancing towards the skyline. It had been much emptier when you first came down. Massive buildings brought down in failed bombing runs. Things you had thought could be rebuilt easily after the planet capitulated. It'll be four months until the second anniversary. Seems like they're finally starting to get their lives together.

And what about your life, Kallis?

You snort a little. Hey, I'm making rent, aren't I?

You can't stay cooped up forever. A festival could be good for you.

Now you're starting to sound like Talos. You turn off the highway. Speaking of...

Sigmund and Jeanne's Apartment, Miir, 1st Floor
8th of 13th, 1154. 7:03PM.

Ah, welcome home, ser. A data-tag floats up within inches of your nose as you shove the door open with a hip. And how was your day?

You grunt as you shove it closed again with your back, glancing towards the camouflaged adjutant, then towards the rest of the living room- in other words, your room. I thought I told you not to clean in here.

The jug of water and ration packets messily balanced in your arms seemingly flung into thin air and began floating towards the kitchen. You did, ser. However I could not help but make a few subtle improvements for your long term health.

It's going to be a problem if Sigmund notices that you're here, Talos. You sigh, spreading your now-empty arms.

Nonsense, I am the height of discretion.

...right. At least it wasn't trying to improve the flavor of your rations by making it into flambé this time. There's something else, actually.

I'm finally getting permission to clean your room?

You know I like doing that myself. You wave your arm and shake your head. I'm going to this Tagaran festival tonight. Midwinters? Apparently it's a harvest festival of some kind.

That would explain the fireworks from earlier. Talos replied. What about it?

---

The pins holding your hair up came out, allowing blonde hair to cascade down your shoulders and to your ass. You reach up and fluff it a few times, frowning at it's length. You hadn't intended to give yourself such long hair when you created Jeanne, but it seems your lack of practice in creating Masks caught up to you. For one, instead of just being Tagaran as you planned, she was also much gentler than your normal personality, which made you feel... 'off' sometimes. You didn't have the knowledge, or quite frankly the stones to do a complete seal of your memories, which left the two personalities occasionally swimming back and forth in conscious and control. The ridiculous length she liked to keep her hair was another part of it. You never knew what to do with the blasted stuff when you were more 'Kallis' than 'Jeanne'!

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Not that I'm complaining about getting to take care of you, ser, but why do you care about this festival? Why not go as you are?

You blink as Jeanne comes to the forefront of your mind again, your expression softening in the mirror. Because I want to respect it and Sigmund. I doubt it's anything serious from how he treated it, but I didn't want to show up covered in road dust.

Fair enough, ser. Talos sounded slightly amused as it floated down behind your shoulder. Tragically, we don't exactly own anything flattering, and I left my sewing scarabs in my other chassis.

You frown. Of course, a varied and fitting wardrobe was not exactly something within your or Sigmund's price range. You owned mostly second hand jeans and t-shirts, simple and bulk-sized. For work you had a pair of simple polos and one blouse. The most feminine thing you owned was probably a denim skirt and a fur-trimmed coat you saw in a dumpster after work one day. Well, other than...

You drew up a finger and gently pulled it down the thin black garment that clutched to your chest and waist. It seemed strangely thick for an undergarment - and lined with noticeable seams and a collar around the top - but as your finger slipped across it, the fabric rippled and it stretched out, thinning until a loose black dress hung around your knees. I could always configure my lifesuit for something. It's not one of those fancy infiltration models, but I could make it into a decent dress or skirt.

I... suppose it's not particularly notable unless it's observed morphing. Talos conceded. With some mix and matching of your regular clothes, we could probably decide upon a style. But won't Mr. Elson ask questions?

He doesn't do my laundry. You shrug lightly. And I'm allowed to have nice things.

What do you wear?

>Just your actual clothes- skirt and a simple jacket. Nothing fancy.
>>[Sub-Option] What was this, a date?
>Keep on your work clothes, don't put Sigmund on the spot trying to impress him.
>Change the lifesuit into a simple, almost shapeless black dress. Classy and direct.
>Go for something a bit more modern, by Tagaran standards. Military jumpsuits are in, right?
>Perhaps he'd like something a little exotic? Just a touch Valkan? Not like anyone knows your fashion.
>[Write-In]

>[Optional] Style your hair.

>>5166881
>Change the lifesuit into a simple, almost shapeless black dress. Classy and direct.

Why do I feel like there are tradeoffs for everything, and I'm not sure that we could pull off "cute", that's more a thing for Tiiris.

>>5166903
I'll serve it to you straight, there are no tradeoffs that you can't play off. I just knew if I had a date night without an option to fuss over our outfit I would never be forgiven.

>>5166881
>>Perhaps he'd like something a little exotic? Just a touch Valkan? Not like anyone knows your fashion.
>[Optional] Style your hair.

>>5166863
TAGARA STRONG TAGARA TAGARA TAGARA

>>5166881
>>Perhaps he'd like something a little exotic? Just a touch Valkan? Not like anyone knows your fashion.
>>[Optional] Style your hair.

I'm too lazy to trawl the archives, but what is the Tagaran equivalent of the Valkan's symbol?

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>>5167685
The equivalent to the Valkan ouroboros? I believe it's never come up and each city-state has it's own variations, but in terms of a global symbol you have this one. Most agree it's a depiction of the sun, but Tagaran archaeologists haven't found a definitive first instance of it's use yet.

>>Perhaps he'd like something a little exotic? Just a touch Valkan? Not like anyone knows your fashion.
>[Optional] Style your hair.
Aaaand writing.

>>5167736
Yes. That's what I was asking. Do they put that symbol on the Navy's ships and all?

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>>5167796
The Navy and the Planetary Guard have always been involved in a bit of a interservice pissing contest over who gets to use the national emblem. So far the PG has generally won that argument as while the Navy and Guard are both joint services between the city-states, not every city-state has a prominent or even existing naval base or regiment. Therefore the Guard tends to enjoy better PR as the city-states have more to brag about. Politically, they also prefer the image of being united in defense via the Guard instead of the more aggressive and exploratory spirit of the Navy.

designing this shit is not in my natural inclination oh god

Holy fuck. This time I can't believe Bentus is NOT fucking dead.
Welcome back my man!

>>5168198
I WAS NEVER DEAD. NOBODY CAN KILL ME. Really I never left, it was just a matter of free time. And I'm not promising a return to normalcy or anything, but this was a bit I knew I could do.

Also son of a bitch, I just let the day slip away from me here, one moment...

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Your lifesuit ripples before sucking in tight at your waist. It thickens under your bust and develops prominent ribbing, pushing up your chest against the top fabric. You couldn't really do it properly- your old wraps all went down with the Tanoh, and the lifesuit only had so much material and complexity it could handle at once.

That said...

You step back carefully as the material pools down over your feet. The muffles thumps of your soles against the floor slowly grow sharper as your heels lift up off the floor, making you an inch or two taller. It was a shorter heel than perhaps most would consider formal, but it was also the same height most power armor had internally, and so you were used to it. Your calves twitched oddly as tendons tweaked themselves to fit comfortably with your footwear.

Part of the material covering your body split open to the side, creating a fringed sash around your waist, which you pull at a little before finally deciding it passed muster. The suit's surface was smooth to the touch, with none of the raised embroidery and overlapping materials of a real wrap, but it looked roughly approximate nevertheless. And with a somewhat unorthodox application of the adaptive camouflage, the entire thing took on faint lines of gold, with the interior of the skirt hiding a interlocking pattern of hexagons and red etching.

Right... You brush at the sash self-consciously. That should do it. And not particularly odd at all.

I must ask, ser. Talos sent. Is all this effort really necessary? Or do you actually like this Sigmund man?

You glance at Talos' data tag, then pointedly look back at the mirror and begin fussing with your hair.

Normally, you just piled the whole thing up into a massive bun below your neck, but maybe you should style it more? You suppose you could do your normal achievement braids... nnnot like Sigmund would actually understand what they were, admittedly. It would just look like you were doing microbraids. Or a normal braid? You could just let it all hang loose, as well...

>Do your normal bun.
>Go for the microbraids.
>Do a long, normal braid.
>Let it hang loose.
>[Write-In]

>>5168261
>Let it hang loose.
Hair you can swiiiiissssh.

also holy balls, two updates in as many days, you're really spoiling us here.

>>5168261
Valkan drip. Also
>Let it hang loose.

>>5168261
>Let it hang loose.
Looks like I'm going to need to start back with my notes.

>>5168261
>>Go for the microbraids.

>>5168261
>>Let it hang loose.

>>5168261
>Do a long, normal braid.
"Yes I do Talos"
I wonder where Talos is during Tiiris' time

>>5168983
Makes me think though. Remember that car that people thought was a free-candy-mobile from one of the early threads? Could have been Tela.

>>5168983
We know exactly where it is(Thread #16, post >>4296561), the hard part is getting it back safely, while upholding our current obligations / dodging suspicion.
>"ST and I have located your mother's old car." Easy replied. "It's a Ode Impressor, model year 1145.
>"Collector interest has led to the vehicle being >passed around, as it were. It is currently in Kana."
>"More specifically, a satellite town slightly south of Kana."

>>5169000
I'm glad someone's keeping notes. I would never have remembered things like that.

>>5168261
>>Go for the microbraids.
>[Write-In]: "Of course I like him."

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>>5169017
Oh by the way a map to help with visualizing things.

>Let it hang loose.
Just letting it aaaall hang out, here we go.

Obligatory I can't believe Bentus is.... you know..

Bentus wouldn't abandon us again right guys h-haha no no he's just asleep or something haha

>>5172237
For real this update is requiring me to review all of my worldbuilding notes and write an entirely new set of lore entries in my database. So sorry for the delay here.

>>5172572
It's cool. We waited for a few months, what's a couple days to that?

>>5172784
Y'know I wrote that and realized it would be better to put the bulk of what I've been writing into the next update so I could have a specific vote now. Oops.

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Pulling your hands back through your hair, you turn your head left and right before deciding that just leaving it loose suits you. You wore it loose when it was short anyway, so why not when it's long?

Do you think I look okay? You ask Talos.

Talos' optic swiveled onto you. ...you really do like this Sigmund man, do you?

You shrug lightly. Maybe I do. He's nice.

Your taste in men has always been impeccable. You didn't need to see the data tags on Talos' messages to know what it meant.

I was barely thirty! You send indignantly.

Is he going to freeload on your couch for three months again? Talos replies.

Rolling your eyes and making a rude sign in Talos direction, you gently turn and make your way outside. You get a couple looks on your way out of the apartment and into the lobby, but to your relief the looks were not of suspicion, but merely admiration, maybe lust occasionally. You were standing out perhaps, but for the right reasons.

Ration Center No. 7, Miir, 1st Floor
8th of 13th, 1154. 7:23PM.

The sun was starting to go down by the time you made your way back to the stadium. In contrast to when you left, the crowds had rapidly drained out after collecting their rations for the week, and the parking lot was draining out, letting you park Tela close to the front and step out.

Sigmund had been waiting for you, it seems. He was leaned up against one of the large concrete pillars that held up the front of the stadium, gently flipping through something on his phone. He didn't look up as you got closer, rubbing your arm self-consciously, suddenly feeling anxious despite yourself. Your autonomic systems released a burst of calming combat stims, and you took a bracing breath as you suddenly relaxed.

"Did you wait long?" You ask.

Sigmund glanced up in surprise, quickly moving to put his phone away. "Oh, uh- no-" He glanced up again, his phone halfway to his pocket as his eyes roved over you. After a second, he caught his wits again. "No, I've only been waiting about five minutes." He paused. "You look nice."

>"Thanks."
>"Is it too much?"
>"It's a special night, isn't it?"
>"You look nice, too."
>[Write-In]

>>5173706
>>"It's a special night, isn't it?"

>>5173706
>"It's a special night, isn't it?"

Talos is probably going to have some interesting words for both Tiiris and Kalis, once we get around to meeting them again.

>>5173706
>"You look nice, too."

>>5173706
>"It's a special night, isn't it?"
Wait a minute, how old actually is Kallis in the present day of the story? Was this answered at any point previously?

>>5174215
Yes, she said she was just over "240" in the present(Thread#19 >>4539901), and this take place before Tiiris was born so she would be about 210~220ish.

>>5174219
thank you mr lorekeeper

>>5173706
>>"It's a special night, isn't it?"
>>"You look nice, too."

>"It's a special night, isn't it?"
Wrrrriting.

"It's a special night, isn't it?" You tilt your head and smile, before glancing up as another set of fireworks goes off across the pier.

"It sure is..."

You look back. "Shall we go down? I don't really know anything about festivals."

"Oh, it's pretty basic..." Sigmund gestured for you to follow a bit awkwardly, as you trotted just a hair behind him. "You have stalls and food, stuff kind of like a carnival."

You nod agreeably. "Of course. Where are they getting the food, though?"

"It probably came from spare rations." Sigmund replied. "That or there just won't be any food."

There was food, it turns out. The ground floor docks had been converted into a bustling plaza, with people almost packed in throngs as they squeezed through the narrow avenues between stalls. The smell of fried fish and sugars mixed in with local Tagaran spices- primarily savory and salty flavors, but with the occasional familiar scent. Since your arrival, it had continually surprised you how much Tagarans used Kasit in their cooking, and the smell invaded your nose even when you dampened your sense of smell.

You still occasionally find yourself wondering what colony fleet the Tagarans came here with. It was almost a universal experience, really. Nobody evolved on their own planets- pretty much any interstellar civilization knew that. Everyone, virtually without exception settled on their worlds a long time ago. Valka was no different, you've been told. It wasn't exactly probable that this was the homeworld, either. Otherwise the 1st Fleet would have been all over it centuries ago.

>>5177092
Where were the original colony vessels now, then? Were there more than one? Had it been disassembled, or was there a secret derelict somewhere the Tagarans had completely forgotten about? It wasn't improbable- all records eventually degraded, and studying their historical record was probably difficult given the environment. The people certainly didn't seem to think much about being foreign to their world. Else you wager they would probably have a more, uh, you suppose it would be a 'Valkan' mindset.

...regardless, you find yourself attempting to ford the crowds with Sigmund in tow, peering over the shoulders of the crowd and looking into the stalls. For a small blessing, Jeanne and you preferred to be somewhat on the tall side for a woman. By Tagaran standards, that made you practically the height of most men. You saw sizzling lumps swimming in vats of oil on one side, and small grilled insects on sticks on another. Beyond you, cresting the docks and going onto the pier was what looked like a less crowded space for attractions. Through the noise of the crowd, you occasionally picked up the distinct digital sound of score counts going off.

>Get some food first.
>Go see what the attractions are.
>Find a place to rest.
>Go off on your own for a bit.
>[Write-In]

>>5177094
>Get some food first.
Food is good.

>>5177094
>Get some food first.
can valkan cooking be even called "food"
tagara #1 cultural+culinary supremacy

>>5177094
>>Go see what the attractions are.

>>5177094
>Go see what the attractions are.
Maybe we can use the Abyss to fuck with some innocent festival-goers :^)

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Aight, it's split. 1 for the foodies, 2 for the attractions.

>>5177094
>Go see what the attractions are.
I support messing with people

>>5178798
Shit, didn't notice the tiebreak already.

fuck me that's right I run a quest not steadily merging with a controller

>>5180862
When I decided to do this, I promised myself that these updates would be less effort and more often instead of trying to reinvent the Mona Lisa like I used to. Let's see if I can't get back into that spirit.

You lift up onto your toes lightly to speak into Sigmund's ear over the din. "You want to eat first?"

"I could go for something, yeah." Sigmund nodded.

Carefully, the two of you forded out of the middle of the crowd and more towards the wings of the venue so you could see the food. The two of you began to move your way up through the stands, admiring the fry pans and the chefs steadily working away at more orders than they had time. You had to admit, there were a lot more smiles than you were used to on Tagarans. The part of you that had been worried you would stick out like a sore thumb in your approximation of a wrap was clearly unfounded, as men and women had brought out elaborately patterned dresses and vests that were loosely gathered at the waist. Something had lifted in the collective spirit, it would seem, but who knew how long it would last?

Sigmund eventually stops at a stand where a pair of older women busy themselves with a fryer, one of them expertly dumping dough into the vat and fishing them out onto the station of her partner shaking and smothering it in sugar and cinnamon. Sigmund leans over and speaks with her briefly before handing her a bill in exchange for a small bag of heavenly smelling donuts.

For your part, you found yourself passing by several stands before you could make a choice. One sold salted cod, served with a fried Tagaran root on the side that gave off an intense smell of sea salt and alcohol. Another was hawking bowls of savory avian meats that were grilled and served smothered in a sauce that made your implants pick up slightly just to catch a taste of it. Still more sold warm and cold sandwiches layered with greens and breaded fish; long noodles immersed in a yellow soup and served with bread that reminded you painfully of the Fleet. There was even one enterprising sod serving food you could have found in a convenience store with a heft markup.

Eventually, you...

>Steal some of Sigmund's sweet donuts instead.
>Go for the salted cod.
>Get a plate of the savory bird meat.
>Grab a cold fish sandwich.
>Get a little taste of home with the soup.
>Clearly the convenience store guy had the epitome of taste.
>[Write-In]

>>5180879
>Get a little taste of home with the soup.
Soup is good.

>>5180879
>>Get a plate of the savory bird meat.

>>5180879
>Steal some of Sigmund's sweet donuts instead.

>>5180879
>>Steal some of Sigmund's sweet donuts instead.
It's cute

>>5180879
>Steal some of Sigmund's sweet donuts instead.
My 300 year old shapeshifting alien invader gf cannot be this cute!

>Steal some of Sigmund's sweet donuts instead.
Writing.

>>5182093
>300 year old
does this technically make her a pedophile

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You turn away from the stands, where Sigmund was raising one of his donuts to his mouth. Tactically, you slip a hand into the bag held in the crook of his arm and pluck out a single warm donut. When he looks down in surprise, you reach up and pluck the one in his hand out, too. As he watches, you stuff your stolen confection into your mouth and give him as cheeky a smile as you can muster with your mouth full of sugar.

Sigmund, for his part, turns slightly red and grumbles something before fishing a new donut out of the bag and taking a bite out of it.

You swallow and shrug lightly as you and Sigmund push your way back out into the thoroughfare. "I'm not that hungry."

"You could've..." Sigmund's words turned into muffled mumbling that even your enhanced hearing couldn't quite interpret.

"Do you mind?" You ask, starting on the second donut.

"...no." Sigmund glanced away.

>Press the initiative, slip that arm around his.
>Keep it at a simmer for now, bide your time.
>[Write-In]

>>5184124
>Press the initiative, slip that arm around his.

>>5184124
>>Keep it at a simmer for now, bide your time.

>>5184124
>Press the initiative, slip that arm around his.
Valkan girls are very forward.

>>5184124
>Press the initiative, slip that arm around his.

>Press the initiative, slip that arm around his.
Writing.

With Sigmund looking away from you and an excellent opportunity presenting itself, you quickly dart your free hand up and loop your arm through Sigmund's- the one too busy holding donuts to pull away. Trapped as he now was, Sigmund looks briefly startled before a reassuring smile and a gentle touch on his bicep from you seems to relax him a little.

For some reason, you were reminded of your early hunts when you were young. Tracking down solitary pirate vessels didn't exactly compare to going on what was rapidly becoming a date with a man you liked, but both gave you that same thrill of the hunt. Only this time instead of seeking his death you were seeking his-

More fireworks illuminated the sky, and you smiled up at the bright explosions, with blurry rings of light rippling out across the ocean in the distance.

You glance up at Sigmund. "You want to sit down somewhere and eat?"

"Can't eat with one hand."

Giggling a little, you look around and immediately spot rows of cheap, mass-produced picnic tables set off to the sides of the avenue. Well in view of everything, but also only slightly less crowded than the thoroughfare itself. You could easily soak up the atmosphere and talk there, but maybe you'd like someplace a little... quieter?

>Find a picnic table. A festival should be enjoyed, not viewed from a distance.
>Look for a slightly more private place.
>[Write-In]

>>5186374
>Look for a slightly more private place.

>>5186374
>Look for a slightly more private place.
Valkan girls are VERY forward.

>>5186374
>Look for a slightly more private place.

>>5186374
>>Look for a slightly more private place.

>>5186374
>>Find a picnic table. A festival should be enjoyed, not viewed from a distance

>Look for a slightly more private place.
Writing.

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"Come on." You step around him, tugging him along by his arm. "Let's find a place away from the crowd."

Surprised by your boldness, he lets you drag him out of the crowd, pushing your way upstream of the throngs coming into the festival area. Once the two of you get far enough up, you break out the side of the crowd and make your way across the edge of the docks. The vendors had set themselves up along the waterline, crowding both the docks and the beginnings of the unfinished artificial beach that jutted from the spire of the first floor. Further up, what pieces had been finished before the war lay untouched, and were slowly being occupied by stragglers seeking a quiet spot away from the festival bustle.

The two of you find a spot to rest towards the peak of the finished terraces. The grass here had regressed to small, dry patches without the regular attention of groundskeepers and without it, most of the people looking for a soft place to lay avoided it- which suited the two of you just fine.

Sigmund holds out a hand for you and helps you gently lower yourself to the ground. "Sorry you have to get your clothes dirty."

"It's not a problem." You take his hand with a gentle smile, laying yourself down next to him. "Clothes are meant to be used." You reach over and fish out another donut from the bag.

"Right." Sigmund seemed a little confused for some reason, but he brushed it off. Before he could say anything further, a flash illuminated the night. More fireworks were bursting off the edge of the city. From up here, you could clearly see the Tagaran patrol craft lazily driving in circles out on the surf, mortars streaming from repurposed smoke launcher tubes.

"You think this will last?" You mumble around another mouthful of donut.

>>5190658
Sigmund was silent for a moment before answering. "I think... we're going to make it. All of us, that is. I think we'll look back on these times and wonder what the hell happened, but... it's more important that we can look back on times like this, don't you think?"

"I suppose that's true." You glance at him, then carefully lean yourself against his side, surreptitiously adjusting your chest so it presses against his side in a comforting way.

You sigh, pressing your cheek to his chest as you watch the fireworks. Distant cheers echoed up from the waterfront to where the two of you quietly sat. Clear skies, a warm atmosphere and a place where more than twenty people could gather without having to worry about taxing the life support- everything you had wanted when you came to this place. Was it ironic that you had gotten it, now that you lost everything? Or was it just the price?

After a few minutes, Sigmund reaches around - a little shyly - and wraps his arm around your waist, tugging you closer.

>Enjoy your small moment of comfort together.
>IT'S TIME. GO IN FOR THE KILL.
>[Write-In]

>>5190659
>Enjoy your small moment of comfort together.

>>5190659
>IT'S TIME. GO IN FOR THE KILL.
Something something very forward

>>5190659
>IT'S TIME. GO IN FOR THE KILL.
Sarak girls are FULL SEND

>>5190659
>>Enjoy your small moment of comfort together.

>>5190659
>>Enjoy your small moment of comfort together.

>>5190659
>IT'S TIME. GO IN FOR THE KILL.

>>5190659
>>IT'S TIME. GO IN FOR THE KILL.
Valkan girls don't do foreplay

>IT'S TIME. GO IN FOR THE KILL.
WOAHCHRISTSORRYABOUTHAT.
Writing.

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You curl into his side. Were you ready to go through with this? Admittedly, it wasn't like you were going to strip him behind the bleachers anytime soon. One of you was going to do something stupid if you didn't deal with the tension between you soon.

Might as well be you...

"Hey, Sigmund?" You turn in his arm, sliding a leg over his lap and placing a hand on each shoulder. He turns to look down at you, but doesn't get a chance to respond before you press your lips against his. It's been a while since you did this- what, twenty years? Thirty? One hell of a dry spell...

That's right, work your way into the crook of his body... make yourself into a natural fit for him- an easy, but comforting weight. One of you was making a noise, but you weren't sure which with how distracted you were by his lips. Jeanne had more plush lips than you did, and you were starting to see the value in th-

Kallis.

Not now, Tela, I'm busy. You gently grip Sigmund's head and tilt it forward. Carefully, you begin worming yourself further onto his lap-

Ser, I must insist... Tela patiently waits for a response while you patiently try to find the most comfortable place to seat yourself on his legs. I think someone is trying to steal me.

Then drive away. That's not suspicious by Tagaran standards. You come up for air briefly before preparing to go back in-

I believe they're Valkan, ser.

You stop just before touching Sigmund's lips again and sigh.

"Something wrong?" He asks, a worried expression coming over his face.

"I forgot to lock my car." You grumble, cheeks flushed. Leaning forward, you peck him on the cheek carefully. "Give me five minutes, okay? I'll be right back."

"...alright." Sigmund let you go with a bemused look as you stumbled back off his lap.

Standing up, you peck him on the head one more time before setting off at a slight trot down the path. You started off initially calm, but by the time you got off the riseway you were practically fuming. Really? Tonight, of all nights is when another self-important remnant decides to stick their nose into someone else's private business? What was it going to be time, yet another 'needst must' speech?

As you approach the ration center, you duck into a sidepath. There, the predictable click of your heels suddenly softened and gave way to the dull thud of boots on the ground. Brushing your skirt with a hand, it returned to hardened suit pants that reflexively rippled and thickened with armor at your irritation. Touching one of the buildings to either side of the alley, your entire suit turned grey as the concrete, and your helmet snapped up out of storage.

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>>5193157
Gone was the soft, inviting and sweet blonde woman. Her hair had withered away into a short bob, which was naturally bristly and puffed up around her head. Circuits stood out on her face and down her neck, the tiny lines of wire turning red and standing out against her skin, while in the pits of her eyes a pinprick of red could be seen.

More importantly, Kallis was much more capable of expressing the full range of irritation that Jeanne was not able to.

You ignore the feeling of having been blind and suddenly seeing that always came with running your implants at full speed. A hand goes up to the chain around your neck, as you reflexively draw upon the tiny font contained within it's links. The air chills, and nearby windows frost over lightly. Seemingly nothing happens, but when you reach out and grab one of the fixtures sticking out from the wall and pull- you float up as if you weighed nothing at all.

You reach out and grab at windows and drainpipes sticking out of the walls, increasing your speed as the ground rapidly falls away from you. It felt like you were back in microgravity again, with only the strain of lifting yourself by your assist servos giving the lie to what you were doing. Grabbing at the edge of the small apartment building you had summited, you let you momentum flip your feet over your head and back onto the roof while a hiss of air from your suit thrusters slow you to a safe speed.

A second after hitting the roof, you release the acceleration field that had been dragging on your lifesuit's assist servos, making you suddenly sink into the gravel half a centimeter. Trundling over to the corner of the roof, you kneel down and cast your gaze over the near-abandoned parking lot to catch your-

They really couldn't have been any more obvious if they tried. None of them looked like they thought they belonged there. A young girl to the side constantly jumped at small movements, glancing over her shoulder with the slightest noise. The rest formed a loose semi-circle around Tela, unsure or unwilling to do anything. One of them was kneeling down next to Tela, but seemed mostly stumped by what he was looking at. An amateur, then. Anyone actually trained in the Art wouldn't have bothered probing Tela for weaknesses that weren't there. Their relatively young age and forms could only really mean one thing...

Civilians. Valkan civilians, to be sure, but civilians nonetheless. Ironically, that made them slightly more volatile to deal with... and also harder to say 'no' to. No helmets on, either, so you doubt any of them would notice you up here.

>>5193158
You tilt your head and tap your helmet with a sigh. What to do? You couldn't just ignore them, otherwise they'd do something stupid and attract a bunch of unnecessary attention to themselves. Really, you doubt anyone would blame you for throwing them under the bus in these circumstances. You could always tell Tela to hightail it out of there, but then you'd probably have to change your car and invent an excuse to Sigmund as to where you got the money... or you could just talk to them.

>You're more than willing to do through the hassle of changing Tela's form if it means you can be done with this soon.
>They're not likely to go away, let's talk to them.
>Other Valkans are a liability- they're better off dead if they're being nosy.
>[Write-In]

>>5193159
>You're more than willing to do through the hassle of changing Tela's form if it means you can be done with this soon.

>>5193159
>Other Valkans are a liability- they're better off dead if they're being nosy

>>5193159
>>They're not likely to go away, let's talk to them.

>>5193159
>They're not likely to go away, let's talk to them.
Kallis does have an excellent glare face

I wonder how much we can troll this timeline. Some things like Kallis marrying Sigmund and him not being aware of her nature are already set in canon and will happen regardless, so it might be fun to try and twist the timeline into a pretzel while we're here.

Man, I've just realised something. Kallis and Tiiris are basically elves and.....Sigmund is not. He's just a normal human who we will have to watch get old and die in the future while we will live for centuries and not look as though we've aged a day the whole time (and get funny looks when he gets older). The same goes for our friends, and it's kinda sad when you think about it. The perils of getting entangled with morals.

Also, on a completely unrelated note, how does the government structure on Tagara work, Bentus? Is it all city-states or are there nation-states or empires and such out there on what little of the world is land? Are they completely sovereign entities or subdivisions of some kind of world government? Who owns the bits of land that aren't near a city or less populated islands? Do all the states have their own militaries, or do they all run some kind of joint organisation?

>>5194155
>Is it all city-states or are there nation-states or empires and such out there on what little of the world is land?
>Who owns the bits of land that aren't near a city or less populated islands?
The city-states are... well, just that, city-states. Massive arcologies are a pain to construct both practically and economically, and the sheer population they hold means they have a lot of industrial capacity and influence, to the extent that they effectively represent their continent. Of course people live outside the arcologies, even the Broken Desert has some people who live in it, but a lot of the land is in-use most of the time. Building cities with multiple levels is really only a smart idea if you're trying your hardest to conserve land for other things like farming and airstrips, after all. A second arcology is just rarely, if ever necessary.

Miir, for example, both is the center of and namesake of it's entire continent in addition to the nearby islands, such as the one Site XIII is located on. Esari is the only city that can really claim to have an inland neighbor- Taidan, an arcology with so little influence that I didn't even stick it on the map of the big four.

>Are they completely sovereign entities or subdivisions of some kind of world government?
Tagara's government is most accurately described as a confederation. Every city-state is sovereign and makes it's own laws more or less independently of each other with very little overlap. The Tagaran Planetary Assembly (or just 'the assembly' or 'big board' colloquially) mostly exists to handle issues between cities and nothing more. The assembly itself mostly handles trade law, borders, administration of areas of the Broken Desert so hostile no individual city wants to touch them and the funding of the military.

An important subsection of the assembly is the Tagaran Security Council, which is more or less the collective civilian commanders of the Navy. They are also the only other post other than assemblymen that appointed by individual cities rather than elected. Each city sends one, and they can pick them however they wish. Miir holds elections every three years, Kana appoints theirs by senate vote and Esari's president directly appoints theirs. The only restriction is that council seats cannot go unfilled for an extended period of time.

It's completely possible for an individual city to leave the assembly, but doing so is rarely invoked, since the overheads of being part of the assembly are pretty negligible compared to the benefits. Funding for the military is rarely done through taxes and is more of a political maneuver, and leaving means leaving the world's largest trade organization, so it's rarely invoked. Esari gets made fun of a lot for having had a hot-and-cold romance with the assembly until it finally joined for good a hundred years ago.

The Assembly is based on Kaath, north of the Boiling Marsh and more or less directly east from Miir.

>>5194236
>Do all the states have their own militaries, or do they all run some kind of joint organisation?
Both the Planetary Guard and the Navy are joint services between all of the cities, but the fine print of how they function are different. The Navy is a strictly unified venture, which operates more or less only in Tagaran orbit, while the Planetary Guard operates... well, planetside.

The Guard operates as a standing reserve force, and assembly member states are obligated to maintain a minimum level of readiness- although they also receive additional funding from the assembly to help them do this, especially in the case of the smaller cities. In wartime, the Guard is the organization that fights on the surface (see: Esari's occasionally VERY HOT relationship with the Assembly in the past) and generally provides security within a member city's territory. Their central command is the Security Council, same as the Navy, but the Security Council has to declare a state of emergency in order to actually give them orders, otherwise they default to city control. Besides that, the cities are free to do whatever they want with their own armies. Miir and Esari use their Guard as elements of their executive branches, which is why you saw Planetary Guardsmen moving into Miir after you blew the Tanoh the hell up. Tanis on the other hand maintains it's own law enforcement and use their Guard regiment as border control and search and rescue.

The Tagaran Navy is an actual international military force, however, with their leadership getting their orders directly from the Security Council. Funding is provided by member cities willingly, but as the Navy serves an important function and the politics of who is giving the most funding and how loudly they're doing matter to some member states, they largely do just fine. The Navy's job is to maintain the orbits of Tagara and it's colonies, keeping them clear of debris, keeping their stations and satellites in orbit and defending Tagara from threats beyond it's orbit. That last one was basically purely theoretical until the Valkans showed up, unless you count the occasional radical group that sprung up at Paar. It's also the Navy's job to sub-in if there is a jurisdiction dispute between two cities, particularly in border waters.

And as mentioned way back up in >>5167904 the Navy and Guard have a wonderful history of getting into interservice pissing contents with each other. Mostly it boils down to the Guard thinking the Navy is staffed by a bunch of overfunded idiots sitting on shiny new toys, while the Navy thinks the Guard is a bunch of hicks with easy jobs and who have no idea how to fight a war. A relatively famous example is the two squabbling over who has jurisdiction on Tiir, a civilian colony that also happens to primarily serve the Navy. Planetary Guard won that one, along with the question of who serves the Paar mining stations.

So, um- that a thorough enough answer?

>>5194238
One last fun fact: Tagara has a fairly recent history of the practice of appointing dictators in times of crisis. The most recent one isn't in living memory, having served roughly two hundred and twenty years ago during an ecological crisis that's the reason why Esari is so uncomfortably close to the Broken Desert's inhospitable zone. The fact that they got through the entire Valkan War without having to appoint a dictator is a big point of pride for some Tagarans.

>>5193159
>They're not likely to go away, let's talk to them.
Let's show those civvies that pissing off a horny knight is a horrible idea.
>>5194240
>>5194238
>>5194236
It took these marooned humans only 6k years to figure out collective security, nice. Have they also avoided polluting their world into mass extinction?

>>5194404
Makes me think, though - there's actually some big questions still to answer about humanity here. Clearly ancient humans were a spacefaring (inter/)galactic civilisation to whom even the Valkans would have been cavemen in comparison to. But somewhere, it went wrong. They all reverted to bashing rocks together and had to relearn how to be an advanced species from scratch, were fragmented and don't even remember that they came from somewhere else, let alone have a common concept of Earth (are we even in the same galaxy). Just what the hell happened here however many thousands of years ago? I'm sure benty boy knows and has a big ringbinder full of setting notes, but its a real headscratcher and suggests the scope of the quest might go asymptotic at some point. Assuming Bentus stays alive long enough, that is.

>They're not likely to go away, let's talk to them.
Writing.

>>5194404
>Have they also avoided polluting their world into mass extinction?
There might have been a few close calls back when Esari had only a small desert. They don't exactly have the same amount of ecological wiggle room that we have here on Earth, so they had to catch on quick.

>>5194758
>are we even in the same galaxy
I forget if this ever got mentioned in previous threads or didn't because I didn't finish my pretty galactic map, but you aren't in the Milky Way. It's a ring galaxy.

>They all reverted to bashing rocks together and had to relearn how to be an advanced species from scratch, were fragmented and don't even remember that they came from somewhere else, let alone have a common concept of Earth
I can tell you that Tagarans never had a banging rocks together phase. To their knowledge, they've always been technologically advanced and democratic (most of the time) and have old myths about powered flight and engineers.

>>5195333
>Tagarans never had a banging rocks together phase.
Tagara #1 galactic superpower in 10 years valkan scrap for sale

>>5195333
>I can tell you that Tagarans never had a banging rocks together phase.
Then what the fuck kind of weird technological stasis have they been stuck in for the past six thousand years? A lot of their tech I'd place as anywhere from the 21st century to later in the 3rd millennium at most.

Still, the point stands. Humans have clearly fallen a looooong way and forgotten their history en masse (my thinking is something like the backstory of Starsector). Perhaps the Valkans never actually developed their technology themselves but didn't regress as much as Tagara did.

>>5195333
>but you aren't in the Milky Way. It's a ring galaxy.
So, sentients are in the middle of fucking nowhere across the universe (ring galaxies are millions of light-years away from the Milky Way), and the homeworld has never been found...
D-Did humanity ditch the Milky Way because it got Homeworld: Cataclysm'd?
oh no

>>5195728
Shit, Bentus is a known Homeworld fan. That might not bode well for old Urf.

Still, it's an exciting mystery! One we might solve in the quest's late game. If we get that far before Bentus dies again, that is.

Your head thunks dully against the ceramic retaining wall of the roof. Tonight had been going so wonderfully up until this point...

Regretting you didn't have the nerve to kill civilians in cold blood yet, you back up from the roof edge and make a running jump off the edge, your boots clapping into the bricks and sending you soaring over the edge. Your jump doesn't follow an arc, oddly. At it's peak, your body chills again and you lift yourself enough to counteract the force of gravity, clearing the street-long gap between buildings.

Tagara - like most planets you had been to - really had a woeful lack of street cameras that pointed up. Miir in particular seemed to have strong feelings about public surveillance. They reminded you of the 5th, in that way.

Your boots hit gravel, and you lightly jog along the edge of an office building, your eyes focused down on the parking lot below. A building before where Tela was waiting, you casually kick off from the rooftop. The ground lurches up towards you, but with practiced ease you open a small acceleration field around yourself. Caught, you allow yourself to accelerate to a decent speed before slowly bleeding it off, allowing you to coast down to the ground as if the rules of gravity simply didn't apply to you.

It was possible to outright fly with the kind of practice you had with psychokinesis, but it was the kind of thing that sounded better on paper. You wound up focusing all your energy on keeping yourself aloft and stable when an acceleration field you could maintain in your sleep and a set of suit thrusters provided almost the same benefits.

The one attempting to fiddle with Tela noticed first. Immersed as he was, he probably noticed the wave of stillness wash over the area, the approaching snarl of Abyssal energies that was clinging to you and your suit. The others noticed as their breath began to fog, and one man's glasses clouded over.

Your boots hit the ground and you step forward, scowling at them- which was somewhat wasted when they wouldn't be able to see anything of your expression through the optics and visor of your lifesuit. "What do you think you're doing?"

"We- u-um..." The girl stammered, fidgeting with her skirt and going into a bow. "We're so sorry! We had no idea this was yours, ser!"

"No idea? Did your parents never teach you about inheritance?" You shake your head. "If the vehicle wasn't talking back, it wasn't up for being claimed, now was it?"

"U-um-" She looked over at the man who was frozen next to Tela's door, and the one standing next to him. There was a buzz of static in the air- clearly they were privately communicating with each other. And from the rapid waves emanating from the girl and the man standing next to her, the two of them were clearly terrified, at least. They stood apart, as well. Interesting.

>>5196071
The man you pegged as the ringleader, who stood next to the amateur by Tela's door, stepped forward. "We're sorry, but we had no idea if you were Valkan or not. We had to try."

Your eyes narrow. Okay, not new petitioners, then. "Why would you want my strider?" You jerk your head towards Tela. "Tagaran cars aren't hard to get." You pause, then add. "Ignoring the fact that you're a thief, of course."

"Warskins are valuable equipment!" he protested. "It's not something you should just leave around, if you can. And what sort of Tagaran vehicle is self-repairing, self-maintaining?"

Something didn't add up here. You could understand that each of them might be weary for home, but... you had to think. How could they be lying to you? What had happened to their own striders - or warskins, if any of them were soldiers - if they didn't have one now? Were they planning to share it between themselves?

>Play nice, for now. If they weren't here to try and beg for help, there might be a way you could help each other.
>Press them harder. Something smells rotten. But did you have any proof?
>>[Sub-Option] Put on your knight face- directly intimidate them into speaking up.
>Just tell them to get the hell out of here and don't come back.
>[Write-In]

>>5196072
>Press them harder. Something smells rotten. But did you have any proof?
>>[Sub-Option] Put on your knight face- directly intimidate them into speaking up.

>2000 year pilgrimage
>visit multiple other inhabited planets
>decide to pick this shithole to die for
Tagara strong but also why Tagara

>>5196072
>>Press them harder. Something smells rotten. But did you have any proof?
>>>[Sub-Option] Put on your knight face- directly intimidate them into speaking up.

>>5196072
>>Press them harder. Something smells rotten. But did you have any proof?
>>>[Sub-Option] Put on your knight face- directly intimidate them into speaking up.

>>5196072
>Press them harder. Something smells rotten. But did you have any proof?
>>[Sub-Option] Put on your knight face- directly intimidate them into speaking up.
Something being owned means it's owned by a Valkan, since iirc Valkan robutts will only allow themselves to be registered as claimed and bossed around by Valkans - if we weren't a Valkan, we wouldn't be its registered owner. Besides, what were they hoping to accomplish? I doubt someone's strider would just allow itself to be stolen. Either they're stupid or are up to something nefarious.
I'm not sure what knight face means, but whether it means bringing the visor up and giving them The Look or some kind of uniform aesthetic, we might be able to spook the more jittery ones into a Freudian slip.

Some side notes. If I've managed to read correctly, we've been operating on the assumption that mum's vehicle we were planning to go and get was Talos, but isn't Tela her strider unless her adjutant can also turn into a car? Do we have any intel on the whereabouts of her adjutant in the present day? The pastebin also needs an update.

>>5196072
>>Press them harder. Something smells rotten. But did you have any proof?
>>>[Sub-Option] Put on your knight face- directly intimidate them into speaking up.

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>>5196322
>If I've managed to read correctly, we've been operating on the assumption that mum's vehicle we were planning to go and get was Talos, but isn't Tela her strider unless her adjutant can also turn into a car?
I'll need you to completely forget about this. My writing is perfect and never subject to occasional inconsistencies when I don't read my notes perfectly. I have no idea what you're talking about.

>>5196843
So which one is which?

>>5196929
Hardware is hardware, maybe they swapped at some point or something like ST and LT did when we went to go see Jess the second time.

>Press them harder. Something smells rotten. But did you have any proof?
>>[Sub-Option] Put on your knight face- directly intimidate them into speaking up.
Man I didn't expect it to be such a landslide. Writing.

>>5196929
For now, assume they're whatever is written down while I bullshit my way out of this.

I can't believe our favorite fetish quest auteur is fucking deceased

"Ah, that's very true. I'm sure it-" You gesture to Tela. "-would serve you better than any Tagaran vehicle, you're correct. Ordinarily, I'd just let you off with a warning to leave me alone." You pause. "...but something is bothering me."

The ringleader tried to hold you gaze, his eyes wavering to stay directly on you.

"Why..." You continue, letting the optics cluster on your helmet bore into his eyes in lieu of yours. "Would you call Tela a warskin if it's a strider?"

You see him flinch.

"That's interesting. Because, see, Tela is a warskin, but you wouldn't be able to tell that when it's camouflaged, especially from a bunch of amateurs like you." You raise your scabbard in a hand, gesturing between each of them with the pommel. A flash of confusion passes across their faces, because of course, you hadn't had a sword a split second ago. "Now, a few theories. First, you've been searching at random and got lucky with me." You gently trace the edge of your sword with a finger, thinking to yourself. "Second, you identified me in particular as being likely to be served by a warskin owing to my rank- but that would require you to have advanced access to civilian records and a correlation of them with my assumed identity. Plausible, but unlikely." A flash of the Abyss moves out from you, sweeping under their clothes and gently touching their bodies with invisible hands.

Each of them shudder a little at that, feeling the cold touch upon their skin and clumsily batting it away by flaring their own powers, but you ignore it. Each of them were armed, but clumsily. Knives that were legal to carry on Tagara, not even a pistol- Tagaran or Valkan. Strange.

"Third, you were pointed at me by someone capable of identifying a warskin. Probably the only reason someone as clumsy in the Abyss as your friend there thought they could break in. Perhaps you were supplied a tool for the occasion? Or, perhaps you were intended to take me out? Either way, you're clearly expendable, considering your mystery patron seems to have deigned not to arm you."

"Y-you're a knight!" The man who stood apart from the rest of his group - with who you were rapidly suspecting was his spouse or girlfriend clinging to him. "You were supposed to protect u-"

>>5200031
A wave of freezing cold broke over all of you. A silent, earsplitting scream of the Abyss rent reality, whispering and flickering at the edge of every Valkan consciousness present. Everything that had to do with the Abyss faintly howled, of course, but this was a cold that penetrated deep into the marrow, sending frost scurrying across the pavement and the air turning dry as fog suddenly condensed before clattering to the ground in flecks of half-formed hail and snow. For the inexperienced in the group, it sent several of them to their knees as they were assaulted by the influx of energies, the untamed and unrefined power forced to vent as waves of heat and light. Several of them struggled to hold their Masks- you notice two of the men were actually women, including the boyfriend.

You click your sword back into it's sheath. It had only been opened a crack, but a crack was all you needed.

"My vows were to serve the Fleet, not individual civilians." You shake your head. "And now that the Fleet is gone, they are moot. The way I protect you is to keep quiet and to ensure there is nothing drawing Tagaran attention to us. Which you are not helping with."

"What was that..." The mist cleared, letting you get a better look at the ringleader gasping on the ground.

"That was Vinaax." You answer simply. "He has a powerful bark, but he's obedient, so relax." You lean over and look at him. "Now, tell me: who exactly sent you?"

"Her name is Anta aust Tanoh." The ringleader coughed, struggling to settle his Mask back into place. "She's a-"

"The lead philosopher-engineer of the Tanoh. Yes, I remember her name well." You sigh. "So much for her pride. What do you want with a warskin?"

"Same as anyone else!" He finally got his Mask under control. "Just having it makes you safer! People avoid you, or they give you things! What's the point of living out our final days alone and in suffering?"

"Whether that happens or not is up to you." You sigh and shake your head before straightening up. Glancing to the side, you see the couple clinging together, looking away from the two of you while attempting to comfort each other. The amateur himself was still reeling on the floor. You knew all you needed to know. They were likely part of a larger cell of remnants, jockeying for influence with the remaining power blocks.

While you were reasonably confident they would leave you alone if they found out you were aware of their existence and opposed to them, you could never quite count on restless people to make smart decisions. The fact that they have someone capable of identifying and taking a warskin would- no, wait... Anta would know that it's impossible to make an AI do something it didn't want to. It had domain advantage over it's own systems, especially on a warskin. What was her goal, then? Was she just trawling for abandoned hardware? A hit squad made no sense, either. Not like an AI would just blindly obey it's master's killers. Or...

>>5200032
...gah, this line of thinking was getting you nowhere. What mattered here and now was dealing with these people. And getting back to your makeout session.

>Make an example out of them. Kill them.
>Let the hangers-on go, and deal with the ringleader and the amateur on their own.
>Very clearly explain to them what will happen if they try this again.
>Let them go with a warning.
>[Write-In]

>>5200034
>Let the hangers-on go, and deal with the ringleader and the amateur on their own.
Chiphead-on-chiphead violence

>>5200034
>>Make an example out of them. Kill them.
Just another day for knight.

>>5200034
>Let the hangers-on go, and deal with the ringleader and the amateur on their own.
Members of the 13th family are endangered enough as is these days, murdering them all seems disproportionate given they're just a bunch of idiots and we've already put the fear of [deity] in them. The bosses may require some "special treatment", however. Anta will also be getting a visit later once we've finished being Jeanne.

Hmmm, that sword. Another bound blade? Are they common things for Valkans to have?

>>5200382
(and if it isn't the same blade as the broken one Tiiris already has in the present day, that begs the question of where mumsy's sword got to. She seems to have had a lot of cool stuff that's gone missing over the years and I look forward to us tracking more of it down)

>>5200034
>>Let the hangers-on go, and deal with the ringleader and the amateur on their own.

>>5200034
>Let the hangers-on go, and deal with the ringleader and the amateur on their own.

>Let the hangers-on go, and deal with the ringleader and the amateur on their own.
Writing.

You glance to either side of yourself, directing your attention to the ringleader and the amateur. "You- and you. Stay. The rest of you, get out of here. Go home." You look directly at the couple, then jerk your head. "I said go."

The two of them scramble to their feet without much further fanfare, and the other straggler stops slowly inching away from Tela and turns away as quickly as he can.

You watch the three of them go quietly, then turn your name back on the ringleader and the amateur. "Do you have any idea how dangerous of an idea this was? You could have easily gotten yourself killed." You narrow your eyes behind your mask, studying both of their faces. The amateur seemed... tired. Extra lines on his face, even though he had chosen a relatively young Mask. Was he beginning to waste? His head hung against Tela, clearly stewing in his own failure too much to pay attention to what you were saying.

Focusing back on the ringleader, you consider your tact. He was mostly recovered, glaring up at you. Shoulders square, harsh glare- you were sure he got plenty of dates doing that. Still not particularly repentant, hmm. Any effort to change that would take more time, not to mention it would likely be wasted effort. As well, you were exposed in the middle of a parking lot, better make this quick.

>You were already sentimental enough with their friends. Kill these idiots.
>Spend the bit of extra effort to grill them for as much info as you can.
>>[Sub-Option] Then kill them.
>>[Sub-Option] Then let them go.
>Wait. If these two are ingratiated with one of the cells, you could use them to get an introduction. That could be useful.
>Give them a harsh dressing down, then let them go.
>[Write-In]

>>5203355
>You were already sentimental enough with their friends. Kill these idiots.
>Spend the bit of extra effort to grill them for as much info as you can.

>>5203355
>>Spend the bit of extra effort to grill them for as much info as you can.
>>>[Sub-Option] Then let them go.

>>5203355
>>Spend the bit of extra effort to grill them for as much info as you can.
>>>[Sub-Option] Then kill them.
Fine, let's wax 'em.

>>5203355
>>Give them a harsh dressing down, then let them go.

>>5203355
>>Spend the bit of extra effort to grill them for as much info as you can.
>>>[Sub-Option] Then kill them.

>Spend the bit of extra effort to grill them for as much info as you can.
>>[Sub-Option] Then kill them.
I'm fairly sure? Presuming >>5203550 is a vote for the grill and kill option.

"So." You squat down. "What interest does Anta have with warskins? Trying to get rid of bad eggs in her followers?"

"We only got the tools from Anta. We don't-"

"I appreciate you trying to protect your friends, but I've let them go and it's already over." You stick the pommel of your sword beneath the ringleader's chin and force him to look you in the eye. "You may as well just tell me."

"...all we get told to do is to install these into striders and warskins we can find." The ringleader admits. "That's all we do."

"What even was your tool?" You glance at the amateur and hold our your hand. When he takes a bit too long raising the chunk of machinery in his hand, you simply yank it from across the yard into your hands. Peering at it, you see a mess of circuits and a few Abyss-active components. Amplifiers. The same basic concept as the font in your rosary, or the Abyssal machinery in your implants, but scaled up and mechanically-driven. You use it right and it can output a lot of Abyssal energy, maybe even act as a power supply or external amplifier for powers. It wasn't all that useful to your average Valkan, though, so why did...

"Miir has a lot of refugees, so that makes it easy for us to blend in here." You begin. "But that also makes it easy for people to vanish if they aren't careful. Once people build their legal identities, most of them move onto Tanith and Taidin." You lean forward. "Must be awfully inconvenient if people get found out when they're trying to hide. Say, if they accidentally release a flare that every Valkan in the city will see. I've seen a few of those happen- someone tries to spark flame when they haven't practiced the power since they were a kid, wind up accidentally lighting themselves on fire." You turn the chip over in your hand carefully. "Of course, any strider trying to stay secret is going to shut it's transmitters off, render itself invisible for the most part- unless... say, someone with the knowhow to pick out a strider that's not completely dead to the world or fitted with an electronic warfare suite was looking for them."

You see his face turn ugly. "You're a traitor."

Good, you were getting somewhere. "Finally said it? Yes, I'm a traitor. A mutineer. Took me long enough."

"You wouldn't dare hide if people knew who and where you were! You only get to look down on me because you have your anonymity to hide behind!"

"And so you plant targets on people's backs with a flare, make them think they're going to be exposed to force them into one of your cells?" You fan yourself with the circuit. "Very patriotic. But you're ultimately serving a glorified gang."

"Look, I get it already. You're strong and want to be left alone. I guarantee- we'll steer clear of you from now on. Not a peep. We'll even stop other people from trying to get in touch with you."

"That's just a slower way of trying to draw me into your sphere."

"You don't trust me?"

>>5208147
"You've done a lot to ensure that I can't trust you." You say. "I trusted once. Unfortunately for you, I'm not eager to repeat that mistake." Tela.

Tela's chassis unfolded like petals on a flower. Smooth panel lines suddenly split and opened, contrasting with elaborated mimicked panel gaps revealing themselves to be internally smooth and uniform. Manipulator arms snapped out from an internal compartment that had shed all illusion of being remotely Tagaran, seized the two and dragged them within. A scream erupted out from the ringleader before the compartment doors snapped shut again.

Looking through the windows, all you saw was an empty- and utterly silent car. You hover a hand over Tela's roof, pulling it away at the heat radiating from the metal. If Tela was made of ordinary material, then you're fairly certain it would be glowing red hot right now. Unfortunately for any enterprising Tagaran intelligence officers, it was not.

Targets eliminated. Tela announced.

Thank you. You eye Tela's chassis, putting a hand on the metal as a cloud of steam released from gaps in the hull. You okay?

Fully functional, ser.

Good.

You recall there was once a big controversy in the 3rd Fleet about this particular capacity of warskins. A lot of the civilian leadership were - understandably, you think - disturb by the ability of warskins to easily incinerate, asphyxiate or otherwise kill their pilots. It was almost trivial for them to redirect their thrusters, open fuel cells and turn the cockpit into a proverbial pit of flames. Of course, the 3rd's sizeable military tried to assure them that this would never happen. As ridiculous as the idea was, a rogue warskin would likely be more of a threat to everyone around it instead of it's pilot.

What had stuck out to you about that on the news was that it hadn't occurred to the 3rd that their own striders were perfectly capable of doing this themselves. Of course, they had assumed this for the same reason their knights thought the idea was absurd. They had touched the mind of their striders, seen into it's mind- 'become it's bones', as the phrase went. They knew their striders would rather die than ever betray them.

That is why you trusted Tela absolutely.

---

Waterfront, Miir, Ground Floor
8th of 13th, 1154. 10:12PM.

"I'm sorry! I'm back!" Your feet hit the grass unevenly as you trot over to Sigmund. About halfway through your stride, you have to remind yourself that ordinary women do not walk nearly this fluidly in heels on uneven terrain, and force yourself to walk a bit more unevenly. Jeanne's personality was still settling back on your mind, so you felt unusually forward as you come to a stop in front of Sigmund. "Were you waiting long?" You take his hand.

"No, not at all." He lied as easily as he breathed.

"Sorry." You flash a smile, hoping the flash of fireworks in the distance would illuminate it for him.

>>5208150
"It's fine." He brushed it off, closing his eyes and glancing away. "I've just-"

Here was your chance.

Kill the next person to interrupt me, Tela.

"Hey, Sigmund, shut up for a second." You seize him by the neck and surreptitiously give your heels just the slightest bit of platform so you can reach properly. Jeanne was tall, but Sigmund was even taller- and you liked that feeling of being just a bit smaller than him. Jeanne had also wanted to be chase- to take it slow and let things boil over on their own. You had no such plans, and you were more than a little pent-up after your interruption. An indecent noise rumbles in the back of your throat as you lock lips, rocking back and forth gently in your grip.

When the two of you finally come up for air, you ask. "You think you can make it home?"

Archived: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2022/5166064/

Happy Valentine's day?

>>5208161
Next thread ven

>>5208161
Thank you Bentus, this interlude was really good. Please don't die again

>>5208624
Unlikely, but still probably no COADE for a while. Turns out running quests off the cuff is really hard? And running this off the cuff reminded me why I decided that I would need to do extensive prep work before I ran again.

...that and also I've been involved with several cursed and highly questionable projects over the past year or so, including straight up fanfiction and a couple CYOAs. So those'll happen. Probably not under my name, but it'll be me.

>>5209053
nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

>>5208161
Oh shit right, I always forget to put this in the OP: I have a twitter, I post about new threads there so you don't have to haunt /qtg/ wondering if I'll appear out of the woodwork today.
https://twitter.com/QMBentus

>>5209053
You're brave making CYOAs nowadays given the absolute shitshow /cyoag/ has been since it hit shitpost critical mass last year. Unless you're making them for /trash/ or reddit or something.

>>5210008
Legit do enlighten me. I do post them on /cyoag/, but I never lurk and it's been four-ish years since I last posted something judging by the date on the final export.

>>5210015
About two years ago a major CYOA (Planeswalker Rising) was released, and later in the year someone dug it up again and started bitching about the fact you were punished in-universe for doing a bad of some kind. Two factions formed and their issues drifted (the "lolifags" who basically demanded any CYOA had to be more or less a glorified loli waifu picker and went around attacking authors who didn't do this and the "moralfags" who were less a real faction and more an appellation for anyone who disagreed with the former and neglected to cater to them) and the arguments gradually escalated until it suddenly went asymptotic at the start of 2021 and the thread basically ended up in civil war and for a number of months consisted of little more than the same topic being argued in circles over and over and over with any legit discussion or non-lowest-common-denominator creativity being impossible. I released a couple of CYOAs myself in this time and was shat on at some length. Exactly how much of the shitshow was the work of a small number of trolls and false-flagging provocateurs just trying to stir chaos is itself argued over.
Come today it continues to slowly simmer down but some quality creators were more or less run out of or warded off from the community, there's less OC than there was before, the argument ratio is still high with ongoing flare-ups and you're still potentially liable to fall foul of the mob like the little-girl fags back in the day. Time will tell if it will recover from the chaos of 2021 - I got burned the last two times and it's strongly dampened my drive to make more CYOAs.

>>5210045
Yeah that sounds like /cyoag/ alright. It takes me a long ass time to make CYOAs so I tend to stay insulated from the drama, but considering my current projects I'm sure I would have caught flak if I posted anything last year. I used to frequent /trash/ but that died down as they have their own issues over there.