>>177823

>Swallow your frustration and remain civil for the time being

>>177823
>Rapes of Cain City
Also, is the Wildblow thing deliberate at this point?

>>177823
>Swallow your frustration and remain civil for the time being.

>>177823
>CURRENT FRUSTRATION: 2
seriously?
we aren't at like 3 or 4 from the revalation of redline?

>Write in.
sure, for now anyway.
>to redline
"I don't suppose you have some Tinker Toys I could borrow?"

>>177823
She's probably a mole or something

>>177845
How you deal with this will decide if it goes up or not.

>>177838
>every thread
Is what deliberate?

>>177854
pretty sure its WildBOW

>>177823
>Swallow your frustration and remain civil for the time being.
But don't forget to make a snide remark about how he should really have a better taste in girlfriends. This is very important.

>>177856
>>177838
Holy shit I read it like 50 times to make sure I had it right, I can't believe I haven't caught that

that's like an entire plate of eggs on my face

>>177871
IT'S FINE, KEEP WRIGHTING

>>177862
DO NOT OFFEND THE WOMAN WE MAY BE BORROWING TOOLS AND EQUIPMENT FROM

>>177877
She'll get over it.

>>177877
Monotreeme why are you always so excitable?
>>177823
>>Swallow your frustration and remain civil for the time being.

>>177886
BECAUSE UNEMPLOYMENT MAKES ME GRUMPY AND THE TWC WON'T GIVE ME MY GODDAMNED BENEFITS

>>177823
>Swallow your frustration and remain civil for the time being.

By unanimous decision, Mr. Case will hold his tongue for now.

Writing.

>>177907
What's on the radio, Jimmy?

Woot! Capes of rain city!

On an unrelated note, captcha has crapped itself on google chrome for me and its stopping me from posting, what do?

>>177966
Use legacy captcha, if you haven't switched to that.

I don't remember how, but a quick google should solve it for you.

I'm in an indolent mood today.

+! Frustration

You swallow your mounting ire for the time being. Better to not drive a wedge between yourself and what seems to be your only ally in this fight. You sigh.

“Where are we going?”

“My garage,” replies Redline. “You need something a bit bigger than a fist to fight Meatgrinder, and I owe Blowout a favour. Besides, I’d rather not see you get your potatoes mashed. At least, not while you’re still fucking with the Red Boys.”

“I thought you were in the Red Boys?”

“Technically yes, but,” Blowout jumps in, but is swiftly cut off.

“Shut up Blowout. Yeah, I’m in the gang. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t piss on Meatgrinder’s grave. Blue Line or Belts’ for that matter either.”

You lean back in your seat, slightly assuaged by her words. Key word being slightly.

“I guess you’re the getaway driver for the Carmichael job then, huh.”

“Wow, a precog huh! Impressive,” the sarcasm is palpable.

“Come on Redline, don’t be like that,” says Blowout as he idly taps his knuckles on the window.

The conversation dies into silence, and for the first time you notice the music. You stifle a snort; the Gurren Lagann soundtrack is the last thing you’d expect a supervillain to listen to while driving. You catch yourself unconsciously mumbling along, and try to act casual. You’re pretty certain your helmet would’ve blocked the sound, but you still feel slightly embarrassed.

The car slows down and stops; you had zoned out.

“This is our stop,” Redline says over her shoulder as she turns off the engine.

Redline and Blowout climb out of the car, and you follow suit. You find yourself in what appears to be an abandoned aboveground parking structure, though it has definitely evolved from its original form. Strewn about are various vehicles in differing states of repair: motorcycles, a truck, another car, and what looks like a chopped up Smartcar with wings grafted on. A central living room area is set up with a pair of couches, a coffee table strewn with magazines and empty cans, and a handful of TV screens all playing different programs. Off to the side, a large but slightly ramshackle workshop is set up. Behind is a series of connected shipping containers decorated with string lights and what appear to be anime posters; how she managed to get the enormous metal boxes up here you couldn’t begin to imagine.

Blowout flops himself down on the couch and opens a minifridge that doubles as an end table, fishing out three cans.

“Sure, help yourself dickshit,” Redline sighs as she catches Blowout’s pass, opening the can with one hand, “I’d say make yourself at home, but you already have.” She walks over the containers.

A can arcs through the air towards you and you grab it, moving to join Blowout on the sofa. The villain has already removed his helmet, stringy and damp black hair falling limply over part of his face.

“She’s seen your face?”

He takes a deep wig and nods, “ha, yeah. It’s fine, she knows you’re one of the good guys. Well, one of our good guys.”

>Remove your helmet.
>Keep your helmet on.

>>178073
>Remove your helmet.

>>178073
>keep it on

>look around

"if I wanted a pretty decent, not so attention grabbing vehicle, how much would you charge? assuming I survive the week."

>>178073

I mean, Blowout hasn't driven us astray yet, has he?

Except for the whole gang war and not reading the news

>>178073
>Keep your helmet on.

>>178094
>>178073
>>178070
"also, does Belts to that heart thing in blood for everyone who beats her in a fight?"

>>178070
>Gurren Lagann soundtrack
Looks like we found best girl.

>>177966
Try Firefox?

>>178130
Probably a truslut.

>>178130
and she's taken. DEAL WITH IT.

I say that if we DO go looking for bitches, we look for perfectly ordinary ones.

(if we get exceptionally unlucky we'll get some cape whose aligned against us, and that would in my opinion be awesome.)

>>178158
TURBOSLUT
would be more thematically appropriate. vehicles and whatnot

File: 1440665818318.jpg (47 KB, 505x302)

47 KB JPG

>>178170
>TURBOSLUT

>>178157
Thats what I'm posting on.

Two votes for keep helmet on.

Writing.

setting to legacy captcha on google chrome did nothing.

>>178186
Eh, dropped in too late to vote otherwise. Cool to see ya running.

“I think I’ll keep mine on for now.”

You put the can of beer down on the coffee table, pushing aside a magazine with a colourful cover. You instead look around; the TVs appear to be playing a combination of anime and gameplay videos with no discernable pattern or theme.

“Oi,” Redline calls from the shipping containers, “do you want the gear or not?”

You and Blowout look over to her; the large double doors of one crate are open, the interior dark.

“Can’t you bring it over here? I’m comfy,” whines Blowout, wriggling himself further into his seat. He looks back to a TV playing an episode of Dragon Ball and paws for a remote without looking.

“Shouldn’t we go over there?”

“You should. I don’t really need weapons. Power and all that,” he accentuates the point by blasting an empty can off the table with a bassy thwumm.

You sigh and heave yourself up from the couch, skipping over to Redline.

“You’re still wearing your helmet at home?” you ask as you reach her, “seems like I trust your boyfriend more than you do.”

She scoffs, flipping a lightswitch on the inside of the container.

“I feel sorry for whatever dumb bimbo he manages to trick into going out with him.”

She gestures for you to enter the now lit container; you do, and it’s an impressive sight. The corrugated walls are covered by shelves and racks holding a dizzying array of gadgets, tools, and weapons in varying states of completion; you notice an almost cartoonish motif to the design of many of them, with excessive lights, angles, flanges and colour.

“The stuff on the table is mostly functioning,” she says, entering behind you, “vehicles are my specialty, but sometimes I like to relax and cobble this junk together while I’m watching TV.”

You pick up and turn over a few items and appraise them; to be quite honest, you can’t tell what most of them are, so unusual are the designs.

“If you need help or whatever, let me know. You can take whatever, but you break it you buy it. I feel like my gang revenue is about to dry up.”

Take your pick, but know that your choice may have unforeseen consequences!
>Flash grenades.
>Electromagnetic bolas.
>Folding electrified stun-sword.
>Wrist mounted cable launcher.
>Rocket skates.

Anything with at least 1/2 votes will get picked.

>>178312
>Flash grenades.
>Electromagnetic bolas.
>Folding electrified stun-sword.
>Wrist mounted cable launcher.

ANYBODY THAT PICKS ROCKET-SKATES DESERVES A PUNCH IN THE FACE

>>178312
>>Flash grenades.
>>Electromagnetic bolas.
>>Folding electrified stun-sword.
>>Wrist mounted cable launcher.
YES

>>178312
my votes:
>Flash grenades
probably not our best bet, since our power is sight based, still never bad to have, really.
>Folding electrified stun-sword
it's a fancy cattle prod, lots of tough supers don't like being tased, so why the fuck not.

Things I'd discourage:
>Wrist mounted cable launcher
just as likely to get us to tie ourselves to something as tie up our foe
>Rocket skates
There is no way this doesn't end in disaster. I don't think super-fighting covers super-roller-derby, these have the single most potential to blow up on us, or just crush us into a wall/MG.

>>178335
I'd say that the cable launcher is good to have, and from what I can guess by it being wrist-mounted, it isn't heavy.

Redline is Blowout`s sister right ?

>>178312
>Electromagnetic bolas.
>Folding electrified stun-sword.
Keep it simple. I don't want to owe her much

>>178312
>Wrist mounted cable launcher.
>Folding electrified stun-sword.
>Flash grenades.

>>178312
>Flash grenades.
>Electromagnetic bolas.
>Folding electrified stun-sword.

>Flash grenades.
>Electromagnetic bolas.
>Folding electrified stun-sword.

>>178312
>Flash grenades.
>Electromagnetic bolas.
>Folding electrified stun-sword.

Is Redline Blowout's sister or is that a different friend who owes him a favour who can help with the getaway?

>>178390
she's almost certainly his sister
just like i'm pretty sure the teen qt3.14 in our mma is the Decider
>>178344
not worried about weight so much as, say, MG grabbing the rope and reeling us in like a fish before we can get the thing off, but it looks like i'm thoroughly outvoted.

>>178332
>>178334
>>178335
>>178354
>>178357
>>178358
>>178359
>>178369
So it looks like we're going with
>Flash grenades
>Sword
>Bolas

Writing.

>>178073
>Keep it on

>>178457
little late there buddy

You pick up two spheres divided around the middle by a narrow seam, five small cylinders, and a bladeless hilt: bolas, flash grenades, and a folding sword that works like a stun baton, if Redline is to be believed. As you tuck the assorted items into the pockets of your costume, you make a rather belated realization.

“You’re Blowout’s sister.”

“No shit,” she replies, returning to the container door. You follow her out, and she closes it up behind you. You start following her towards the living area where she plunks down on a sofa, open beer in hand. You sit down on the opposite couch, where Blowout has firmly ensconced himself.

“Can we hurry up with the meet and greet already?” says Redline impatiently, “my beer’s getting warm.”

“Don’t look at me,” Blowout replies in a noncommittally defencive tone, “you both already know what this gorgeous face looks like.” Looking to you, he adds, “oh, and my name is Donald. Now I’m done.”

“Why do you need to know who I am?” you don’t know how to feel about this. You trust Blowout, but capes tend to have secret identities for a reason.

Redline sighs, “so that if you fuck me over, I know who to run over on the street. Also, so I can take my mask off and drink this,” she gestures grandly to the can in her hand.

>Do the full identity exchange.
>Remain anonymous.

Didn't blowout already tell us that the getaway driver was his sister?

>Do the exchange

>>178542
>>Do the full identity exchange.
What're they gonna do? Our family's out of town and neither of them are dumb enough to go after them.

>>178542
>I'll show you mine if you show me yours
>eyebrow waggling intensifies

>>178542
>>Do the full identity exchange.
dont see much harm in it at this stage

>>178542
>Give a fake name.

>>178542

>Do the full identity exchange.


Shame we didnt have the option of some kind of vibro claws or a simple powerfist. But i suppose thats a bit much to be asking.

>>178542
Fuck it. James Case, at your service.

>>178542
>Do the full identity exchange.

>>178312
>>Wrist mounted cable launcher.
Got a lot of good utility use, and thats great for thinker powers like ours.

>>Folding electrified stun-sword.

Also good for use and less prone to breakage than the other two

Remember to note that ANY of these items will not last above a month without her tinkering on them. In all likelyhood they'll breakdown within a week. Especially since they're off focus.

>>178542
>partial exchange, face and first name only.

>>178542
>Do the full identity exchange.
Just don't give them our real name.

>>178073
Full identity exchange includes our true name, get real nig

>>178542
>Do the full identity exchange.

Soon as redline sees our face she will be able to find out all about us anyway.
Tinkers are pretty damn good at info gathering.

>>178554
>>178567
>>178573
>>178568
>>178584
>>178608
>>178619
>>178638
Exchange it is! Obviously this won't be a full name, street address, last 4 digits of your phone number type deal, but you get the idea. Writing.

>>178667
I reserve the right to vote for saying our real name at the same time as we release ourselves deep inside Redline.

>>178704
Belts will force her way into our lives and the bedroom anon. You know it to be true of a bitch so fucking nutts.

DO IT FAGGOT, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!!

EVIDENCE SADLY REQUIRED BY THIS GAME.

POST, SHE'S GIVING ME DETAILS ON YOU.

>>178704
>>178729
L-lewd...

>>178732
Are you alright?

>>178738
You know you want it.

>>178704
Belts is better

>>178732
monotreeme, can you turn off caps lock?

File: 1459133084074.png (48 KB, 588x422)

48 KB PNG

>>178747
why_not_both.webm

>>178748
I can.
that was a challenge.

>>178742
i am quite well.

>>178747
she is too unstable.

>>178758
better idea, but this isn't erp som likely not
>and redline hates belts
perhaps daddy issues?

>Why didn't take the rocket skates
SHIT. Why did I get back too late to campaign for this?

With our uncanny physical agility and precision, we may be one of the few people on the planet that could have actually used them without basing our skull in.

>>178772
For you. We don't know yet if belts is just battle crazy or a real psycho.

>>178774

Because strapping volatile chemicals to our feet seems like a good way to lose our feet

>>178774
Strapping rockets to self and using them, when not in posession of high defence and toughness abilities or equivalent tech, is recipe for death.

>>178785
no, she isn't unstable enought for ME, but I think she is unstable enough for the character.

she turns me off personally cause she's a sadist and so am I, and I don't switch

>>178787
She's Redline bruh.

I think we can trust vehicle tinker tech on our feet to not explode.

So if they won't explode on their own, the only thing that would make them explode is someone hitting us there, in which case we probably would have had our legs fucked up anyway.

And rocket skates would keep us from getting hit, even.

Either way, we already don't have them so I won't argue about it. GG

>>178809
>I think we can trust vehicle tinker tech on our feet to not explode.

If we knew her specialization was this kind of technology then I'd agree. But we don't, so I don't.

>>178827
We know her specialization is "Transportation", without a doubt.

I would classify rocket skates as transportation.

>>178809

Normally I'm with you but both the QM and Redline pointed out that these are not her focus of work and even she doesn't guarantee them

>>178837
See >>178840
If anything we know that it isn't her specialization.

“Fuck, alright.”

Your helmet comes off with ease, the night air cold against your sweat-damp scalp. You set it down on the floor and crack open the beer you left on the table.

“James. Your go,” you nod to Redline.

With two hands, she lifts the red motorcycle helmet off and tosses it to the other end of the couch. Her black bobbed hair frames a lean, round face that shares the same Asian characteristics as Blowout/Donald.

“Cate,” she says after a long swig from her beer.

You nod, and turn your attention to one of the televisions, the brief exchange of words having petered out. A speedrun of Dark Souls is playing without sound; you try to remain interested to ignore the awkward silence. Blowout seems to pick up on it.

“So boss, what’s the plan?”

You sip at the cold beer. Metallic and flavourless; the refreshing taste of Cariboo.

“Sneak attack,” Cate answers for you, “blow the fucker down before he sees it coming.”

You shake your head.

“No.”

“No?” they answer with simultaneous incredulity.

“No. I can’t say why, other than that I have a pretty reliable source that says taking his ultimatum as is is the safest option,” you snigger in spite of yourself, “sound familiar, Donald?”

He groans, hanging his head.

“You’ve got some real wit when you’re not so busy being a downer,” he replies to your barb.

“You’re fucking insane,” Redline says through a mouthful of chips: you’re not sure where she produced them from.

“Probably. But since I’ve got my powers I’ve already beat Meatgrinder once, Belts, and as of today Eight Ball, not to mention a smattering of non-powered thugs. I’m actually feeling pretty confident.”

“That first time hardly counts,” argues Redline, “way I heard it you got lucky.”

You shrug.

“Maybe, but with you two on my side, and this fancy new tech, I think I’ve got a pretty good chance.”

“I guess it means we don’t have to waste time planning at least,” Blowout says through a yawn, “I’m gonna crash here tonight Cate.” His posture has slowly shifted from sitting to a sort of half lie-down, a cheap fleece blanket pulled over his still-costumed body.

Cate sighs. She drains her beer, and leans over to grab Donald’s where he left it half empty. You finish off your beer, and check your phone for the time. Needless to say, it’s well past your bedtime, especially with a day like tomorrow lined up.

“You can sleep on the couch if you want,” she offers, not turning away from Dragon Ball, “or I can drive you home. I’m still safe to drive, it’s kinda my thing.”

>Go home to bed.
>Sleep on couch.
>Write in, you waifufagging bastards <3

>>178921
Stay here. Go full powered zen stretching before bed.

>>178921
>Ask if they have something you can punch for a bit.
We need to get our Frustration out somehow.

>>178921
>Sleep on couch.

Did we have work or anything to worry about tomorrow?

>>178921
>Sleep on couch.

>>178921
>Stay here, sleep on couch
Why split the party up now?

>>178942
Seconding this.

Also, chat with Cate?

>>178921

>Go home to bed.

>>178985
Because we're a WILD CARD

>>178942
>>178961
>>178963
>>178980
>>178985
>>179025
Couch crash.

Writing.

You awaken to the smell of coffee and an ache in your neck. Sunlight illuminates Redline’s parkade hideout, shining freely through the open walls of the concrete structure. Donald is still asleep, curled up in a snoring, blanketed ball at the opposite end of the couch. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and stretch, yawning in the process. A large McDonald’s coffee sits on the table in front of you, wisps of steam curling through the holes in the lid.

“It’s a double double, figured that was a safe choice,” comes Cate’s voice a ways behind you.

You turn your head to look towards the sound; Cate is busy tinkering with a mostly whole motorcycle, her objective unclear. You take a sip of the coffee: hot, creamy, sweet. Not your usual choice, but it’s still like a dream come true given your current level of alertness. You take a few more sips.

“Help yourself to breakfast, it’s in the bag. I nabbed a twenty out of your wallet to pay for it so don’t feel like you gotta hold back.”

You frown and pat at the pocket that holds your wallet; it’s definitely still there. You think about raising a fuss, but one wiff of that sausage egg and cheese McGriddle aroma dispels it in a snap. You go to town, your stomach rumbling ferociously. Ever since you started this whole cape business, meals seem to be irregular at best.

“Sleep alright?”

You rub at the crick in your neck.

“Alright for a couch. Bed would’ve been nice considering the day I had, but sleep is sleep.”

“Next time bring a bottle of wine, maybe we’ll see.”
The comment goes right over your head given your half-awake state; you only catch it after she laughs out loud at her own joke a moment later.

“So,” she continues, “how’re you gonna spend your last day with all your limbs still attached to your body?”

You check your phone; a bit more than twelve hours until the fight.

>Write in.

I'm going to take a short break to get coffee/dinner, in the meantime you guys figure put how you want to spend the time leading up to the fight. Unless there's something very specific you want to do, it'll probably take the form of a short time skip, and we'll get right into the good stuff.

>>179181
>"Want to see me learn how to sword fight, judo throw, and hopefully find Meatgrinder's weakness in 11 hours?"

>>179181
Find something to smack with the sword, throw the bola at.

We need to know what kinda firepower we have

>>179181
>I have a few ideas, they don't really require my limbs though
>shitpost aggressively

>>179181
>I could stay here and watch some Chinese cartoons I guess, but for now I think I could use a shower. After that I want to learn how to use these toys.

>>179181
>Try and figure out what the hell the PRT is up to / why we have to avoid them?
Or
>Day drink

>>179181
Catch a few sword training/demo videos on youtube and go full powered training. Some baton and Bola demos as well.

>>179181
Practice with the weapons, watch some swordplay videos or some thing

>>179181
Day drink while watching sword training videos

>>179181
Play with our new toys.

>>179203
>"Want to see me learn how to sword fight, judo throw, and hopefully find Meatgrinder's weakness in 11 hours?"
SECONDING THIS
prior post deleted for mis-link/mis-quote

5-10 more minutes.

>>179203
>>179181
I third this action.

>>179381
>what type of sword is it?
cause it'll help to know if it's for thrusting, half-swording, the ever popular Murder-stroke, hacking, drawing cuts, short slashes, parrying maneuvers etc.

also
"hey pretty lady, could I please get a holster for this?"
>check and be sure our extant pockets can hold everything and practice getting things from the pouches

new gear can be a royal nightmare...

I'm back!

going to try to throw together some sort of cogent post amalgamated from as many of the responses as I can.

And then, THE DRAMATIC CONCLUSION OF SEASON 1

>>179468
How dramatic

>>178542
>>Do the full identity exchange.

Fuck it, its not like we'll live long enough to regret this anyway.

Fun Fact: Its thought that the capeshit was actually part of the way that your powers/shards manipulated you into letting them further there own ends.

>>179635
Jesus dude. Refresh before you post.

>>179635
Christ alive, talk about late anon

(Theme Music https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJNjDoU-DOs)

“I’d be happy sitting here watching Chinese cartoons all morning, but I think I need a shower.”

Cate stifles a laugh, “yeah, sure. Third container over, should be a clean-ish towel in there. Try not to clog the drain or anything.”

You nod, and head over.

~

You stretch yourself out as you head back into the living area. The hot shower felt fantastic, and did wonders to relax your neck. Your costume feels slightly grubby from heavy wear without a wash, but it doesn’t smell quite yet. You plop down on the sofa next to the still sleeping Donald.

“Mind if I watch something else?”

Cate, still working on the same bike, replies, “sure, but no audio, and don’t change the silver TV, I’m watching that.”

“You got it.”

You work through an assortment of different remotes until you find an Xbox 360 controller that appears to be the operator for the biggest TV in the room. You quit the League of Legends stream that was playing, and search youtube for sword techniques and fights. The breadth of styles and sword types dismays you; you have no idea where to start. You withdraw the hilt from its place at your hip and study it. It’s a stylish, sleek little thing, simple handle protected by an angular guard that continues downward ninety degrees to guard the knuckles. With a little searching, you find two small buttons with your thumb. Pointing the hilt away from you, you press the first. Instantly, it bucks in your hand as lengths of black material unfold from the front guard in four segments, snapping together to form a straight, three foot long edgeless “blade.” You swing it around in an attempt to get a feel of its weight, which is substantially more than you thought an apparently plastic sword would be. A few slashes and jabs, and you get the feeling that even without the electrical current active, this could be a passable weapon. On hitting the second button, you dismiss any thoughts of using its mundane form. An arc of electricity leaps from the hilt, crackling along the length of the blade and stopping at the tip. It continues to shimmer and spark.

Holy fuck, I’m fucking Obi-wan with this shit, you barely restrain yourself from thinking out loud.

To your mind, this kind of weapon would require a brand new fighting style altogether, but watching other straight sword fighting techniques couldn't hurt either. You press play on the Xbox controller on the first hit.

~

“Come on man, one more round, we need to be ready.”

“Fuck that,” replies Blowout with a groan, “one more round and I won’t even make it to the car, nevermind the fight.”

The two of you had been sparring with your powers for the last hour and a half, testing out Redline’s gadgets. You had invited the villainess to practice as well; she had politely but forcefully declined.

“Good point, we should unwind a bit first anyways.”

You check your phone. One hour until you have to leave. You feel oddly unbothered by the fact that in a mere hour and a half, you could be a mangled mess on the way to the hospital, or worse. You plunk down in front of the TV where your friends already sit with open beers. You take your own from the fridge and crack it, turning your attention to the episode of Bojack Horseman they were already watching. It would be four more emptied cans before it was time to leave. If there was one way you were going to spend your last day, it was drinking and watching TV with friends.

~

You step out onto the curb. Near the horizon the sun wanes in the sky, casting The Bricks in a dramatic pattern of orange light and long blue shadow. The visor of your helmet filters out most of the glare, but even then a cinematic bloom of light dances across the reflective surface. Blowout comes out after you. He straightens the collar of his vest in a gesture surely meant to exude a cool confidence, but the tense look around his mouth betrays his true emotions. Leaning back towards the open passenger side window, you ask,

“You sure you’re not going to come in with us?”

Redline shakes her motorcycle helmet.

“Positive. I’m more useful behind the wheel, trust me. Besides, as soon as one of the Red Boys sees me all chummy with you, they’re gonna have a shitfit and use it as an excuse. You need a quick pickup, tap once on this,” she tosses you a thin bracelet. You snap it over your left bracer, noting a rectangular section where it is wider. “If the shit really hits the fan, hit it three times. Only do it if you really need it alright? I don’t know if I can afford to fix this baby up from scratch.”

“Sure thing,” you nod, “stay safe.”

The window rolls up and the bulky red car peels away from the curb, leaving you and Blowout alone on the sidewalk. He turns to face you.

“You one hundred percent on this James?”

You can’t help but note a genuine note of concern in his voice.

“Fuck no,” you reply shaking your head, “but it’s too late to back down now.”

Blowout holds out an arm, “with you to the end brother.”

Visions of the Red Boys beating on that kid, of Meatgrinder and his people storming the club, of Blue Line trying to shake you down at the fight club all flash across your thoughts, and you clench your fists. You take clasp his arm,

“Let’s crack some fucking skulls.”

An that's where we'll end tonight. Tune in thursday at 4pm PST to see our heroes die in a valiant blaze of glory in the stunning conclusion to season 1!

>typo in the last line
>"you cannot delete a post this old"
>literally two minutes old

JUST

>>179777
Thanks for running Jimmy.

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>>179777
Nice trips, also guessing Endbringer will show up. My bet is on Behemoth or Leviathan, Simurgh is too hard to account for in a quest.

>>179777
Any chance you can tell us how successful we were with testing our new gear? Particularly the sword handling?

>>179749
please GOD tell me we remembered the BULL FIGHTING CAPE

it would be freaking PERFECT

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a weapon like this guy's might be perfect for us...a stabbing end, a cutting end, bludgeon ability, defensive ability, reach.

if we can get it in a collapsible form it may even be better.

>>180423
Until we can get the right Tinker and funds for it, I can back it up. But how much do you think it'll even cost?

Do you not want to be Obi fucking Wan Kenobi?

>>180545
nah, I'd rather be a Lancer, reasonably classy and a little tragic.

lets just avoid such shit ends as those other guys

Is there any reason our power wouldn't work with guns?

Our ability to see weak points would be more useful if we could accurately hit them with bullets from afar.

>>181557
not a one, except that guns don't usually have a "stun" setting. getting a good hunting rifle might not be too hard, but this is not!Canada, where guns raise red flags everywhere.

that said, sniping people may be a good practice, but if we miss or kill someone we get WAY MORE PRT and Protectorate intervention.

and this being based on Worm thats a fast-track to the birdcage or death.

>>183455
I'd amend this slightly and say "not a one that we current know of"
Worm powers work by a pretty strange logic, and often have drawbacks and limitations that don't make sense.

It's possible, for example, that our weakness detection is so tuned that it detects points that yield "optimal" results if we punch them, but not if we attack them with a gun.

No accounting for magic space whale logic, just got try and see what happens.

>>183572
fair point, however my comment stands from a logical perspective even without magic space whale reasoning.

guns escalate things, perhaps a great deal further than they should for someone rocking street level powers...

>>183593
I just don't want us to assume it'll work, then get bit in the ass by space magic at a critical junction. We have a pretty limited pool of knowledge to pull from about our power currently, and even when you have a lot, its easy to get how it works wrong. (see: Coil)

Did he mean Friday, not thursday for the next thread?

>>188004
Hoping tomorrow. I've been on this thread and his Twitter like it was crack.

>>188004
>>188288
I think he meant Thursday of next week.

>>188288
Same Same. Love this story

>>188331
>>188314
>>188288
>>188004
more worrisome to me is the "end season 1" comment...

>>188004
>>188288
>>188314
>>188331
>>188462
I actually did mean yesterday Thursday, but I wound up drinking and playing ds3 all day and totally forgot about it. <\3

So, it will be [i]next[/i] Thursday.

>>188462
Don't worry monotreeme, it's not the end of Rain City Quest. Hopefully, not of Blindside Quest either.

>>189717
Forgot trip, woops