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>>4917859

>Recap (one-handed and drunk edition):
>You tried to master your Berserker mode
>Rolls were dope and we did it for the most part
>We also found out why Julia is a fuccccing dumbass
>Apparently it's not her fault-- her hippocampus is literally a rock!!!
>We get Matt to install security system in the warehouse so we can all sleep again
>yaaaaaaaay.jpg
>Jawn does a nope
>Jawn wat r u doing
>Jawn stahp
>Later we go to the Huber conference and make epic speech
>tfw Huber's probably arrested
>We have a meaningful talk with Bernard
>He admits he wants to go to college and claim his rightful place on the throne of Huber Enterprises
>atticus charles status = pissed
>konigsburg citizenry status = pissed
>also there's some weirdo bothering us in our sleep
>he's apparently on drugs
>got so high he can't even remember his name
>said drugs were taken against his will. Dude is likely a prisoner of FutureLabs

>Relevant stuff to do:
>Find the healer mutant
>Get the data/footage you have out to the public
(>Primary plan: Break into a news station)
(>Backup plan: None as of yet)
>Figure out how to convince Pharos to wake up all of the coma patients
>Save Conduit
>Get stronger!!!

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>>4917864


Previous Threads:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?searchall=mutant%21quest

About/Character Lists/Konigsburg Worldbuilding & Fake Science (Under Construction):

https://pastebin.com/u/SiirenQM

QM Twitter for updates:
twitter.com/QmSiren

----------

Change in dice mechanics:
>Bo3 unless otherwise noted
>Battle rolls for NPCs depend on circumstances

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>>4917868

"A healer mutant?"

"Yes, a healer mutant." The phrase is immediately repeated. "Wasn't officially Crux, but she did do a lot of work for us. She's also the reason why this idiot's leg was restored to full functionality. No other way he'd be walking the way he is now." Valjean remarks while lounging on a stray crate.

"This true, B?" You inquire, turning to your friend, who perks up at the mention of his nickname.

"Ah, yeah." He affirms, looking a little sheepish. "Found her the day before we started our official trainin' if you can believe that. Took me forever to find her, but she was definitely paranoid after what jerkface and his bastards did at Kastan. And I'm talkin' really paranoid."

"Don't forget, Bernard, you were a part of those bastards too." Valjean reminds him, causing the blonde to glare before quickly recovering himself.

"Well I'm glad I found her cause it probably would've taken me a lot longer to get healed, you know?" He says, pointedly ignoring Valjean. "Wasn't cheap either-- had to give her every last ounce of my pocket change to get that stupid leg healed."

"Oof." Matt says intelligently, looking a little guilty at that. Well, he was the one who broke the blonde's leg in the first place, you think, though Matt's voice is quick to break you from your thoughts. "If she's as paranoid as Bernard says he is, then how do we know she'll be in one place? Or even still be operating period?" The question is directed towards Valjean, and, truth be told, you were wondering that exact same thing.

"Simple. We don't." That's Valjean's quick response. "But when I had more men at my side it was fairly easy to pin down her location." He pauses for a moment. "Second, she seemed to love money, and, judging by her type of personality and amount of cash she'd been raking in with us, I have a hunch that she would've wanted to continue her business ventures elsewhere even after the Crux got disbanded."

"She definitely wouldn't step foot in Ville de Rien or any of the ghettos near the Bodensee Wharf..." Valjean trails off, his eyes becoming lost in thought. Those were both places he'd been nearly caught by Futurelabs in, you think, remembering those experiences as if they'd happened yesterday. More specifically, the Bodensee Wharf had been where the Crux's old warehouse was, while Ville de Rien was the ghetto where Valjean had been camping out in and, subsequently, the place where you saved his sorry ass. Nonetheless, the former Crux leader continues.

>(1/2)

first, glowfish 4evah

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>>4917873

"Nacht Haven currently has the most violent crime per citizen and the least amount of arrests, mutant or otherwise, so, if I were a lone mutant who wanted to make a lot of cash off of said crime, I would hunker myself down somewhere there. If not there, then either Downtown or Rottsville, but, once you find her, the healing process is rather quick-- or so I've been told."

Matt nods, accepting the former Crux leader's analysis, while the look on Bernard's face is indiscernible. Despite it being obvious that Valjean wants his leg to be healed, you wonder if it's really worth it to seek out a healer mutant who may or may not exist; on the other hand, even if you have to pay a pretty penny for her services, a healer mutant could come in real handy if you knew how and where to find her.

>What do you do?
>Why wait to find her? A healer mutant could prove a useful ally-- let's go tonight!!!
>Eh. Seems fishy. What's the real catch here?
>Nah, we got better things to do than chase around a supposed healer mutant. Places to go, people to see, you know?
>Write-in

If you do decide to go, you already know that Bernard IS a must, but is there anyone else you'd wanna drag along for the ride?

>Matt-- your master planner and OG partner-in-crime (no nepotism here, folks!)
>Valjean-- he seems to know more than a thing or two about Konigsburg's backalleys and slums.
>Julia-- she probably still doesn't trust you all-that much, but you can't deny her strength.
>No one. Just you and B.

First and last update for the night boys-- bicep's still injured (fucking doctor cancelled my appointment), but that doesn't mean I won't update. Just means my speed might not be up to par. In any case, let's get this show on the road, boys!!!

>>4917881
>Eh. Seems fishy. What's the real catch here?

Can't resist the pun. Also welcome back, man! Glad to finally see ya on the catalogue again!

>>4917881
>>Why wait to find her? A healer mutant could prove a useful ally-- let's go tonight!!!
>No one. Just you and B.

>>4917881
>>Eh. Seems fishy. What's the real catch here?
>>4917881
>No one. Just you and B.

>>4917884
>>4917910

Top kek. I knew you guys would not be able to resist that epic pun. Writing.

On a side note, i think i will be able to manage at least two updates a day.

And just in case the quality of the pics takes a dip, it's me mum's fault. She still thinks I'm sus Apparently getting me to burn that autism tome was not enough.

>>4918559

forgot my trip.

>>4918559
>She still thinks I'm sus Apparently getting me to burn that autism tome was not enough.
Wait, what happened ?

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>>4918588

Well she just still is under the impression that I'm dRaWiNg dEmOnS again. Which is only half-true cause the only thing I'm doing is just DRAWING drawings to acquire hypothetical XP. kek.

considering switching back to digital just to save myself the headache of having to a) destroy every new drawing I make b) do the mad paper-scramble each time someone crosses my line of vision.

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>>4917884
>>4917910

With Valjean's ongoing insistence about this whole healer-mutant thing, you can't help but be slightly on-guard, which is why you find yourself asking. "What's the real catch here?"

At that, Valjean raises a brow. "Why when I say something, do you always assume I'm up to no good?"

"Because you brainwashed several-hundred people into becoming terrorists and put at least five-hundred more into comas." Matt quickly returns.

"Touche, mister-midget." Valjean acquiesces. "But I think it's already obvious as to why I'd like to see the healer mutant." He makes a motion to his broken leg before his face grows more serious. "First, I don't want to be crippled if I can help it, but another thing I wanted to know is if she could perhaps heal Julia. Unfortunately, we don't have access to X-rays, medical treatment, etcetera-- nothing we can use right now to actually ascertain what's causing her amnesia, whether or not it's temporary or long-term, and how it can be fixed." He trails off, and you purse your lips as you think about the fact that half of Julia's brain is literally a stone.

But who knows? Even if there's a chance that her brain can be healed, you think it'd still be worth a shot.

"Hey guys, hear me out--" Bernard's voice suddenly pipes up. "Would it be a bad idea if we could get the jackass to use his powers on the healer?"

"What?"

"You know, so we don't have to pay as much money." He clarifies.

"Bernard." Matt says. Like the other teen isn't the heir to a multi-billion dollar company.

"Stickface." Bernard huffs. "Do you not know what kind of jobs I worked to pay for that? You know what kind of odd jobs I had to do to even get the small amount of money I had?"

"The kind of jobs I'm thinking..." A trollish smirk grows on Matt's face, to which he receives a punch on the shoulder.

"No! I was a dock-worker and a garbage-man, not a frickin' prostitute!" Matt raises a brow in mock-disbelief, earning an additional elbow that he deftly dodges.

"Not saying I wouldn't," Valjean interrupts the ongoing conversation. "But if she charges extra I wouldn't be so opposed to a bit of coercion..." The former Crux leader is actually considering Bernard's idea.

"Well there's not going to be any coercion happening unless we find her, which is why we're going to make it quick and simple." You declare to the warehouse's listening occupants. "What I mean is it'll probably just be Bernard and I." You add, because that honestly seems like the most efficient way to go about this whole thing. That is, if you're actually going to do it.

The question is, are you really, really serious about this whole thing?

>Yeah let's do this!
>Nah this is still sus.
>Write-in

>>4918616
>Yeah let's do this!
>Write-in: "We'll table the freaky mind control discussion until we actually track this person down. No sense arguing about it now!"

>>4918615
You have my sympathies, QM. Sounds annoying as hell for a growing artist.

>>4918615
>I'm dRaWiNg dEmOnS again.
bruh, is she super religious or something ? she didn't believe you when you said it was for a mutant super hero quest ?
>>4918616
>Yeah let's do this!

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>>4918644

I am religious myself, and I love my mum to death— but think at this point it’s the boomer irrationality kicking in again. I honestly think that boomers in their nature have a difficult time accepting ideas that are “novel,” “new,” or “outlandish,” especially people with deficits of certain cognitive functions, but whatever. I’m not gonna live my life not being able to illustrate the characters that have been in my head for years.

Also It’s not like I’m fuckibg drawing traps or porn or shit or even anything that remotely violates the Catechism. And like I said on the qtg, no priest would actually give a shit if I were drawing anime characters unless it WERE for pornographic purposes. Half of medieval religious art was drawn with its figures in the buff, but also it should be noted that those works were made by Euros and desu Euros seem to have a more pragmatic view of nudity than Americans.

>tell her it’s for the online equivalent of a ttrpg

I did say it was for a “drawing game” initially and was no more specific than that so as to salvage my final shred of dignity, but I honestly think that changed nothing.

Apologies for the non-update-related longpost, brothers. Next update should be out tonight.

>>4918722
>Also It’s not like I’m fuckibg drawing traps or porn or shit or even anything that remotely violates the Catechism.
Oh you’re catholic, interesting. Anyway hope she comes to understand it.

>>4918616
>>Yeah let's do this!

>>4918616
>>Yeah let's do this!

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>>4918722
Posting your autism tome in public is based and redpilled and I admire your guts. I come to pay tribute. nice Charlotte btw

>>4918616
>yeah lets do this!

>>4918722
boomers will be boomers, it's a waste of time trying to reason with them.

>>4918928

i love this so fucking much it's unreal.

And to be honest I only had a faint recollection of actually posting the Autism Tome, much like being in a waking dream. Probably would've posted it regardless of my sobriety at the time.

>>4918892
>>4918815
>>4918644
>>4918636
>>4918982

Let's do this!!! Writing!!!

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>>4918892
>>4918815
>>4918644
>>4918636
>>4918982

It is increasingly difficult to find a reason to why you're not going out and finding the healer mutant right now, which is why you think you're pretty much sold on the whole thing.

"We'll table the freaky mind control discussion until we actually track this person down. No sense arguing about it now!" You say, hoping that the healer mutant's inclination to money won't be too much of an issue in the grand scheme of things.

"So... roadtrip?" Bernard asks.

"Yeah." And, as you respond to the blonde yet another question comes to mind: "How exactly do we know where to find her in the ghettos?"

"Well, from what I remember, she actually did have some medical experience on her cause she seemed to really know her stuff." Bernard tells you.

"So our best bet would be somewhere like a pharmacy, an urgent-care center, or somewhere along those lines." You conclude, nodding to yourself. "Anything else that was notable about her appearance? Any special mutant features that you remember?"

"Ah. Yeah." Bernard has to take a second to think about your question. "Pretty sure her power was like a light-bluish, purple kind of energy, and, as for her appearance, she was always wearin' a mask or somethin' to cover her face." You take note of those things.

"Yo-- guys!" Matt interrupts, tossing you a small something, which you realize are brand-new looking comms once you catch them "Take the comms in case, anyways guys. Gangs have been fucking hyped ever since we shit on Atticus Charles on live television."

"Gangs, shmangs." Bernard waves him off. "Gangs haven't been a real issue since mutants became a thing."

"But they were and still are in every surrounding major city." Matt reminds him. "This is the kind of mindset that gets you fucked, B."

"Just gimme the comm, stick." The blonde then retrieves his own comm." But I'm honestly not too worried cause the jerk was the one who chased them out."

"Wait what?" You find yourself a mixture of surprised and confused.

"Yeah, and, even though the Crux was basically more of a terrorist group than a gang, I honestly I think that cleanin' up Konigsburg was the only good thing the Crux actually did."

"You would think if Valjean was smarter he would've wanted to join forces with them..." Matt trails off, brown eyes looking curiously at Valjean. "...And you're not a fucking dumbass, so what's the real reason you basically blew the business opportunity of a lifetime?"

"Trafficking." Valjean answers simply, crossing his arms. "More specifically, they wanted our women and DNA samples from the men, if you catch my drift." It's easy to guess what he means by that. "And, while we were promised more men to join forces with, they were going to sell them off to the highest bidders, regardless of their age."

>(1/2)

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>>4919060

"So you know what we did?" Valjean asks to the three of you, grey eyes sharp like a knife. "We gave them our women and our men, and we gave them a good reminder as to who they were dealing with..." You can only imagine what the outcome of such a confrontation would look like.

"Why didn't you just use your power on them?" There is an evident hole in this whole thing. "Couldn't you have just brainwashed them into joining forces with you?" At that, Valjean looks at you like you asked a stupid question.

"I honestly would've liked that if it were at all possible, but tell me were your powers always as strong as they were?" He asks, already knowing what your answer would've been. "Anyways, if there are gangs, they either have a deathwish, are stupid, or are both, and, if you don't come back cause you got beaten by a gang, that means you and Skeletor are dumber than any gangster." Valjean finishes. "Anyways, get going so I can get my leg healed already."

Come evening, you and Bernard are already ready for a night of playing 'Where's Wally: Mutant Edition,' with your suits, comms, and all. Matt, on the other hand, is dressed down to a T-shirt and boxers and is carrying at least three boxes of pizza into the living room.

"Don't mind me at all. Just gonna binge pizza and do some calisthenics on my night off." He mutters before beginning a round of pushups. One-armed pushups, to be precise. Between reps, he says, "Don't get into any fights if you don't have to, and stick to the list of locations that I gave you earlier." Matt had made a list of pharmacies and urgent care centers in each of the possible ghettos in which the healer mutant could be located.

"Honestly, stick, I doubt we'll have to do any fightin' or anythin' like that." The teleporter is convinced that all will go smoothly. "Anyways, I think my boxin's really comin' along..." He then fires of a few, rapid strikes into the air. Despite the short amount of time the blonde has spent training, you think he's really coming into his own with it. You, meanwhile, favor a more... brutal fighting style-- one that uses lots of knees and elbows as well as your fists--and it works since you're the most hands-on of the group.

"Anyways," Bernard interrupts your thoughts. "Where are we startin' first?"

>Nacht Haven-- a frying pan within a fire within a crucible that's in yet another fire
>Rottsville-- they don't call it 'Rotts'-ville for nothing!
>Downtown-- the ghetto with the least original name

>>4919069
>>Nacht Haven-- a frying pan within a fire within a crucible that's in yet another fire

>>4919069
>Nacht Haven-- a frying pan within a fire within a crucible that's in yet another fire

We're 'NACHT' playin' around!

>>4919069
>Rottsville-- they don't call it 'Rotts'-ville for nothing!

>>4919086
>>4919129

We're NACHT playin' around is right! Writing!

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>>4919086
>>4919129

"Let's go to Nacht Haven." You say, because it seems reasonable that the most crime-ridden place would have the most business for a mutant wanting to make a quick buck.

"Make sure to save some pizza for me, will ya, stickface?" Bernard asks, receiving an affirmative grunt. Then you're teleported onto the rooftop in what you would assume is Nacht Haven, if the dilapidated apartment buildings are any indication. If you're being completely honest, and you've see your fair-share of shit on a nightly basis, it looks no different than any of the other ghettos you've been to, the half-finished structures of red brick stretching as far as the eye can see. Beats taking a nosedive in a sewer-- that's for sure!

Focus, Elise! Focus! You have to remind yourself you're here for business. Turning to Bernard, who'd been glossing over the maps Matt had given you, you ask him. "B, how many medical centers do we have to cover here?"

"Five, six... stickface even added where the dispensaries are, but I doubt the healer's into weed and that kind of junk..."

"Hey wait," You cut off the blonde's train of thought. "How do we actually know which place has the healer mutant?" Perhaps a secret code-phrase or password, you think, your days of watching countless thriller and sci-fi movies with Matt rearing their heads.

"Well, for every location, there's a clerk, and that clerk has to let you through before actually seein' her." Bernard clarifies. "Sometimes they won't even let you through, but the chances of that are really low. That's only if they're real assholes..." He trails off, something on the ground catching his eyes, or, to be more precise, a van is moving erratically through one of the narrow city streets and is trying to pass three cars at once. Stokes' Plumbing Company is emblazoned on the side.

Guess the driving isn't the only thing about that car that's shitty...

"Ha-- look at that truck." Bernard laughs aloud because, for the amount of space in the street, the van is comically large. "You drive like that in any other part of America besides here and New York and you're sure to get slammed, but let's get healer-huntin' now, shall we?"

The first two medical centers are relatively easy to find with your night-vision and Bernard's teleportation. However, you come to find that the first two buildings are closed, and, when you go to steal a peek through the window of building number four, you'd think that the woman sitting at the front desk of the urgent care center had stared into the face of death when she caught a glimpse of your face through the window. Though, instead of reaching for a phone of anything of that sort, she pulls out a flask from no where and starts chugging like her life depends on it.

>(1/2)

>>4919336

Well, you're not too disheartened cause you've only gotten halfway through the buildings on the list Matt gave you, and there are still three more to go before you decide to move on to another one of Konigsburg's numerous projects.

>Roll for encounters (Bo3)

Last update of the night! See you all tomorrow!

Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>4919337
Thanks for running, man--here's a d100 since I can't remember what dice we use!

Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>4919337

>>4919339

1d100-- totally forgot to specify that!

Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>4919337

Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>4919337

>>4919339
>>4919342
>>4919347

>Highest Roll: 60

Writing!

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>>4919339
>>4919342
>>4919347

>Highest Roll: 60

Making a flying leap, the red cross light of building number-four is sandwiched in-between two other large buildings that look just like the ones around them, and, while everything becomes a blur as you soar through the air, your proprioception catches a sensation somewhere in your periphery, enough that you have to steal a quick glance around you in mid-air to make sure a bird's not about to crash into you.

By the time you land, Bernard is already waiting on the ground, loitering by the door, but he straightens himself up once you land. "Alrighty, fish, follow my lead. If they start screamin' bloody murder or lookin' like we killed their pet kitten, we know we've hit the wrong place. If not, then we probably and most-likely have found the guys we're lookin' for."

Just in case, you brace yourself for the possibility of someone screaming their sorry neck off, your sensitive ears prepared for the worst. Passing through the pharmacy's double doors, you're met with that sharp, sterile smell that all medical buildings are wont to have, along with a faint tinge of air-freshener. However, instead of incoherent screeching or anything else of the sort, you're met with nothing but dead silence.

Had it not been for your senses telling you otherwise, you would've thought this building was vacant, but, aside from the young-looking man at the desk-- a man who doesn't seem to care at all about the fact that two of Konigsburg's most notorious mutants are standing before him--you can sense at least two other heartbeats somewhere deeper on this floor of the building.

Like all other lab-coated people you've known, the man sports a head of disheveled hair as well as a poorly-shaved stubble, some patches of chin hair being visibly thicker than others, and the way he's staring at the two of you is starting to make for an increasingly awkward silence.

Lowering your voice to whisper, you ask the teleporter beside you, "What exactly did you say to get past the clerk?" Because that information would come in real handy right now.

"Nothin,' fish, nothin.' I just showed the last clerk my broken leg and he let me through; but this guy's not the same one." Bernard informs you, his voice also a whisper. It seems he's at as much of a loss as you at the moment.

In any case, you have to say something to this guy-- a guy who looks as interested in the two of you as one would be with a piece of used gum.

>How do you approach this?
>ASSERTIVELY!!!
>CLEVERLY!
>MONETARILY!
>Write-in

Since the board is multo dead today, I'm gonna come back between 7-8 PM EST. See you then!

>>4919966
>CLEVERLY!
"You see, a companion of mine is in need of help"

>>4919966
>>CLEVERLY!

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>>4920208
>>4920376

>CLEVER approach

Clever as we may be, the clerk is a tough cookie! I'm gonna need the best of three 1d100s to see if we can get this guy to crack!

Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>4920492

Rolled 49, 63 = 112 (2d100)

>>4920492
>>4920494

Neat-o! I'll be rolling the last two rolls it seems!
Writing!

Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>4920492
Oh hey, this quest is back!

...now I feel bad I was never able to get back to mine. This is Sprout.

Anywho, I'mma roll just for funsies.

Rolled 22 (1d100)

>>4920492

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>>4920624
>>4920632

Oh shit homies. I didn't think I'd get anymore rolls!!

It was so tempting to trash the original update and just roll with the 95, but I'm more than halfway through. Oh well.

Also welcome back to you too, Sprout! Hope to see some more flora-filled adventures someday, but, if not, it's all good cause sometimes the QM cancel can be a real ass-pain!

>>4920650
Next time gib some time before rolling for yourself, m8. Seems burguer were still sleeping

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>>4920632
>>4920624
>>4920557
>>4920494

>Highest Roll: 70

"We're looking to see the doctor," You start, sure that the clerk here will know which person you're referring to. "You see, a companion of mine is in need of help, and we can't get treatment for him. I'm sure you know why." You use the term 'companion' because you don't think telling this guy that your criminal hostage would go over quite as well.

A beat, and still he says nothing, the lighting of the pharmacy making it difficult to see what's going on behind those glasses of his.

Finally, he asks you, "What is the condition of the client?"

"Broken leg." You immediately return. "We also have an amnesiac." You also add, because maybe that will make this wet blanket of a clerk lend more pity to your cause.

Another few seconds pass, but, with how silent the clerk had been, it felt several minutes.

"Alright." He drones. "You can discuss it more with the boss, since I'm sure she will be adamant about you guys whisking her off. If she decides to take you, she will. If not, you two can poof yourselves back to wherever it is that you came from." Then he gets up from his seat and disappears off into where you presume the healer mutant was going to be.

"Asshole." Bernard sing-songs under his breath. "I can see why he's a clerk and not a doctor... Two words: bedside and manner."

You stifle a laugh at that because at any moment he could come back, see the two of you laughing at his expense, and then decide that the two of you are ultimately unworthy of seeing the healer mutant.

Taking the healer mutant by force seems like an increasingly viable option...

"The healer will see you now." The bespectacled man, whose nametag reads SHAW, addresses you once more in that nasally monotone of his. The two of you step forwards, and, for all intents and purposes you think you have succeeded-- that is, until he starts again, "Not you." The clerk, Shaw, points to Bernard, and you can't help but stare in befuddlement.

"Blink's my teammate, and it isn't like we're going to take her away the second we get in there." You argue. Again, the idea of taking her by force is awfully appealing.

"Yes, but he was Crux, and my boss told me to refuse access to anyone who was a member."

"Hey pal, do you not watch the Channel Five News every evenin?' I'm basically a good guy now!" The teleporter argues his cause.

"That's irrelevant, Blink." The clerk refutes, using Bernard's alias to emphasize his point. "The healer was really insistent about this rule, and, I'm betting that even if you turned over a million new leaves, she still doesn't want to be legally liable for having aided what was basically a mutant terrorist cell."

Seeing that there is no winning with what is essentially a Karen in male-form, the look on Bernard's face tells you that he's had enough of this man being a stickler, telling you. "Just get goin,' Kelpie. I'll be fine."

>(1/?)

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>>4920695

As Shaw leads you forwards, you realize that he's shorter than you by at least a good two inches or more, and you wonder how short this guy would look if he were standing right next to Bernard. He'd probably tower this guy, you think, and you have to bite your lip to stifle your laughter again.

The middle-aged woman who seems to actually be a legitimate pharmacist doesn't bat an eye as you pass her by.

"Try any funny business with the healer, Kelpie, and you and your friend will have to be escorted out." OkAy MiStEr NaPoLeAn, SiR.

In lieu of making a joke at the expense of his height, you ignore the clerk and his asshole comment, mentally preparing yourself to deal with the mutant who you will have to yet again plead your case to. Can't be any worse than this Shaw guy, you think.

With how she had been standing, the healer mutant looks like she had been waiting for you, and, like the dickhead clerk, she's got the disheveled hair and the glasses schtick going for her. However, unlike said clerk, she looks more prepared to actually do her job with the various medical paraphenalia lying about the room and attached to her person.

"So Shaw told me you got a guy with a fracture AND an amnesiac?" She says in place of a greeting.

"Yep." You nod.

"Y-You gotta excuse my manners-- I just wasn't expecting the M-guard to hit this part of town at all." Curiously, you'd say she seemed a little nervous for whatever reason, perhaps for the fact that you're notorious for attracting FutureLabs-themed firing squads wherever you go. "I'd be correct in assuming they're both mutants, right?" She asks, her rounded glasses gleaming inquiringly.

"Yeah." You nod. "Why else would we be here?"

"I get your point, but I'd like to know how we're going to do this-- are you going to bring the patients to me, or were you planning to take me to them?"

"We were going to take you back to the customers." You affirm, and, at that, she stiffens, instantly telling you that she does not like that idea one bit, and her words only confirm it.

"I-I don't think that will be at all possible, Miss Kelpie." She tells you, not quite making eye-contact. "I-I'm sorry if I seem like I'm being an ass right now, but you gotta understand; I don't wanna be stuck in any jail-cell if I can help it."

And here you thought this would be easy... You frown and wonder just how the hell you're going to convince this woman that there's nothing out to get her.

Well, aside from FutureLabs of course-- but that's neither here nor there.

>What do you do?
>"You're not going to any jail-cell, miss. Promise you'll be brought back here in one piece!"
>"Are you really going to refuse some good paying customers?" Valjean said she liked money.
>Say nothing. Reach into your pockets and show off that CHEDDAR.
>Write-in

>>4920699

By the way, I forgot to mention that it's the last update of the night, kings!

Hope to be back tomorrow in the afternoon or in the evening-- I don't have a set posting schedule really, cause I suck at sticking to schedules and my sleep pattern's FUBAR. But as always, it's great to be QMing again!

>>4920699
>>Say nothing. Reach into your pockets and show off that CHEDDAR.
Gotta flex John's money more often now that he went villain

>>4920699
I thought the 3rd option was a literal cheese
>>"You're not going to any jail-cell, miss. Promise you'll be brought back here in one piece!"

>>4920699
>Say nothing. Reach into your pockets and show off that CHEDDAR.
WOP YO WAD ON THE COUNTER

>>4920705
>>4920759
>>4921203

I ain't no rat but I love that cheddar, and so does the healer mutant apparently. Writing... right after I finish leg day, that is!

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>>4920705
>>4921203
>>4921276

>SWAG TIME

At a loss, you're not sure what exactly you can say to the healer mutant to make her reconsider her position. It was enough that you had to go through that stupid clerk to get to this woman, but, now that she's being just as obstinate as he was, you find yourself becoming more and more frustrated as the seconds tick by. However, it is at that moment that the proverbial lightbulb goes off in your head, and you remember the small, tightly-folded lump that has been sitting in your pockets this whole time.

The pockets on your suit are barely large enough to fit a pack of chewing gum, but what they definitely can fit is paper. Money.

Not that you know how much you're carrying, but, judging by how Matt asked him when you asked him, it must be a lot. You don't even know where he got it, your younger brother giving you a curt 'Don't worry about it' when you and Bernard inquired.

With all of the confidence wrought from committing acts of nightly vigilantism and beating the shit out Atticus Charles' henchmen, you pull out that stack of cash with all of the swagger a strong lady-mutant such as yourself can muster, and hold that money out for the healer to see.

"Hah-hah-humina..." The healer mutant breathes, looking at the cash much in the same way you would regard a cut of meat. "Ah... hehehe... so much cash..." She whispers mostly to herself, her blue-gloved fingers twitching a little in your direction, and, if she wasn't wearing her medical mask, you'd bet all of the money in your hand that this woman would be drooling right now, as it seems like all professionalism has been tossed to the wayside at the sight of the large wad of Benjamin Franklins you got in your grasp.

Amid the healer's incoherent garbles, the woman currently haven taken on a gremlin-like state, you almost thought you could hear the words ...'myyyyy pressshhhhussssss...' emanating from her jaws.

It takes a few moments for her to come to her senses, but, when she does, she says to you. "Guess you guys really don't play around?" She says, as if she wasn't just salivating over your stack of cash money.

You shake your head.

"Well, I can give you a one-hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed on the broken leg, at least." She tells you as she strides to the other end of the room to shove some medical supplies into a bag. "But the amnesia, I'm not so sure about..." The healer trails off. "What exactly is the nature of this amnesia, and how did the patient in-question get it?"

You don't respond because, good as this healer may be, you're not so sure if you should spill to her the gory details of how Julia acquired her amnesia, nor do you wish to burden an innocent bystander with the knowledge of the Epsilon Trials.

Outside the room, you can still sense Bernard and Shaw in the lobby, while the other pharmacist is not too far away, and, outside of there, you can hear Konigsburg's nightly traffic.

>(1/2)

>>4921476

"What was that?!" The healer heard it too. And most likely felt it. "Was that FutureLabs?!" Already, the woman is panicking.

"Blink, what just happened?" You ask into your comm because your friend is closer to the epicenter of whatever just occured.

"A freakin' truck just crashed through the wall." That is the response you get, disbelief coating Bernard's every word. "I wonder if they're-- wait, nope. I stand corrected. They're armed. Gimme a sec to get these guys out, alright..." The teleporter's voice goes silent as he presumably goes to move the other workers of the pharmacy to safety.

As if on cue, you hear several gunshots go off, and, while the sound of the gunshots themselves are worrying, you know by the sound of the comm's crackling that Bernard is fine.

"Kelpie-- KELPIE tell me what is happening is everyone okay?!" The healer is visibly distressed.

"Stop screaming." You whisper harshly, repocketing the wad of cash for future use. "Everyone is fine, but you need be quiet if you don't want them to find us." You tell her, keeping your voice a low whisper.

"Hey I got the other guys to safety, but don't think this is FutureLabs, Kelpie Bernard's voice is a welcome sound after listening to this woman screech. "They're wayyyyy too unprofessional to be those pieces of garbage."

What the hell then? Did Atticus Charles finally lose his marbles and hire mercenaries to track us down or something? You wouldn't think he's beyond that. But you thought you and Bernard were being stealthy, and logically you don't think there was any possible way for them to track you to this particular pharmacy in this particular ghetto, unless...

"They don't want us, B." You voice your conclusion aloud, the realization hitting you like a shitton of bricks. "They want the healer."

Wow. Talk about a case of wrong place, wrong time.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of more gunshots, followed by a call of, "IF THE REST OF YOU FREAKZOIDS DON'T SHOW YOURSELVES RIGHT NOW, WE'LL BREAK THROUGH EVERY WALL ON THIS FLOOR AND THEN EVERY BUILDING IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD, YA HEAR?" A tremor punctuates the end of the voice's sentence.

The healer gives a squeak in terror, edging close to you in evident fear.

>In any case, what do you do? (Roll 1d100)
>Go back out through the front. WARNING: Armed men ahead!
>If you can't find a way, make one instead-- PUNCH THROUGH THE WALL!
>Stay where you are. Wait for these asshats to make the first move.
>Make Bernard leave the other employees and grab the two of you.
>Write-in

>>4921480

Wait!! I messed up here! We're not rolling until we have a consensus on what we're doing. Then we roll best of three 1d100s!!

Apologies, kings!

>>4921480
>>If you can't find a way, make one instead-- PUNCH THROUGH THE WALL!
OH YEAH

>>4921480
>If you can't find a way, make one instead-- PUNCH THROUGH THE WALL!

>>4921480
>>If you can't find a way, make one instead-- PUNCH THROUGH THE WALL!

>>4921529
>>4921513
>>4921490

Initiating KYLE mode! Drywall punching sequence activated!!!

Roll 1d100 (Bo3)

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>4921532

Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>4921532

Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>4921532
kablooey.

>>4921540
>>4921538
>>4921533

HIGHEST_ROLL == 90;

Writing!

Hey I gotta run some errands! I'll be back to finish the update in an hour or two! See you all!

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>>4921533
>>4921538
>>4921540
>>4921546

"Uwaaaahhhhhhhh---" The healer mutant can't take it anymore. "I don't wanna die!!"

Crap. If the gunmen didn't know where you are, they sure do now since the healer mutant is refusing to shut up, which is why you're gonna need to think of something fast. No doors or windows are present, the only thing standing between you and at least five other men are a tiny, metal key and a worn brass doorknob.

"...a-and do you know my income's going to go straight to the toilet?!" She continues, unaware of the fact that you weren't listening to her at all. But seriously? She thinks she's about to die, and the only thing she can think of is money? Guess Valjean really was right about her. "Even if we get out of here, I just lost my real job not even a week ago, so even if I live I'm going to be dead-broke. I'm gonna have to live on the streets!"

Exhaling slowly, oh-so-slowly, through your nose, your frustration melts into cool, practiced resolve, because you will get out of here. Just not conventionally.

Sensing that you have something in mind, the healer begins to quiet down and stare at you curiously. And she's right. If you can't find a way, you'll make one instead.

"Get behind me." You tell her, backing up a little, because using your fist would only be good for making a small hole in the wall, which is why you need something far, far bigger than one measly fist.

Surging forwards, your body makes contact with the barren wall, and the drywall, pipes, and whatever foundation beams are there all crumble under the force of your charge before the cool night breeze hits your face and you emerge in a narrow alley. Skidding to a stop, you find that the healer mutant has become stunned into silence as she stares at you through the very-large hole you created; you suppose that, for all the mutants she's treated, she probably hasn't seen what a mutant in-action is really capable of.

Beats listening to her scream bloody-murder, you think.

Kicking aside whatever debris are in your way, you retrieve the healer with an unceremonious squeak, taking to the rooftops and gaining as much distance between yourself and the pharmacy as possible.

"Blink, what's the situation?" You ask into your comm.

"Nothin' much for now. Got the other woman and the wet mop to safety, and now we're waitin' on you two. How do you think they knew where the healer was?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, B." You say, clearing another rooftop, and, now that you're far enough away that the pharmacy is no longer in sight, you let out a breath that you didn't know you'd been holding. "By the way, where are you?"

>(1/2)

>>4921763

"I'm about a good kilometer north from the pharmacy, so if you wanna dash back and meet up we can get the healer and the rest of these guys to safety."

"Hey. Healer." You address the woman. "How'd those guys know where you were? Cause chances are they wanted you." You emphasize.

The other mutant doesn't respond, wordless in your hold as she seems to be wracking her memory for any instance at which she could've tripped up.

Or maybe you could try to jog it for her-- ask her something that might give you an answer.

>What do you ask?
>"Were there any patients you've treated lately that seemed a little off?"
>"Do you know anyone who would actually hold a grudge against you?"
>"By any chance, did you let your mutant life slip into your non-mutant life?
>Write in

>>4921765
>>"Were there any patients you've treated lately that seemed a little off?"

>>4921765
>"Were there any patients you've treated lately that seemed a little off?"

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>>4921874
>>4921772

Asking if there is an impostor (read: sussy baka) amogus. Writing!

Last update cause it's late.

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>>4921772
>>4921874

If the healer mutant moves from place-to-place and the attack on her pharmacy was planned, you have a hunch that whoever knew she was there had visited not too long ago, which is why you ask, "Were there any patients you treated that seemed a little off? Patients that you treated recently."

From her position in your arms, she gives a long 'hmmmm...' as she wracks her mind for memories of recent patients. "Well, for starters, a kid I treated had mushrooms growing out of his head and spinal cord... no, couldn't be a kid..." She reasons with herself. "I had another woman whose body would evaporate whenever she got too stressed-- so freaking glad that's not my power FYI..." As she verbally goes through her list of clients prior, you find that none of them particularly stick out to you, even the nonmutant ones.

"WAITWaITWaiT--" The proximity of the woman's sudden scream hurts your ears a little. "About three days ago, I treated an older guy for some burn scars, and he honestly looked like he'd been sleeping in a gutter." Your mind conjures an image of a very disheveled-looking man covered in scars. "I thought he was from Mieszko cause of his accent, but he could barely speak any English at all. How weird is that?" It is a well-known fact that the children of Konigsburg grow up speaking at least two different languages, simply because of how much of a worldwide hub the city is. You and Matt speak two yourself, your second language being French, while John speaks three (courtesy of your father).

However, this is still America, and being America you don't think anyone would be able to grow up speaking barely any English at all. So very weird indeed.

"Anyways, he was one of those people who had the kind of mutation that would be impossible to hide. Like glowing-green eyes, and then there was this weird green stuff coming out of his pores... hurt like hell to touch it." She trails off. "It wasn't like Blink's eyes though. They were more bluish-- and gooey-looking..."

"If it was any guy, it was definitely him." The healer seems far more certain of herself than she was at the beginning of this conversation. "Actually, I'm positive, cause the last thing he said before he left was 'If I need you again, you be here?'" She says in her best rendition of the guy's accent.

Bernard is not too far away; in the distance you can see the pinpricks of his bright-green eyes.

Another jump closer, another seamless landing. That's when you feel something odd.

Amid the clusters of tens and dozens of heartbeats you sense on the ground-- of people nestled in their red-bricked, driving their cars, or plodding along the city streets-- there is one, solitary heartbeat that's above you instead of below on the ground.

And it's moving towards you at a high speed.

Picking up pace, you sprint forwards with renewed effort, but you're no match for whatever-- or whoever-- is coming toward you.

>(1/?)

>>4921964

They make impact with your back, and you feel something positively burning your skin. Burning, burning, burning as you're knocked off course and crash into the road, angling your body towards the ground so you take the brunt of the fall. Getting back to your feet, you feel your regeneration working against the acid-stuff on your back until you try to use a hand to wipe it off, still holding the healer tightly with the other. Stupid! You think to yourself, as you belatedly realize why trying to wipe it off with your hand was a bad idea. Cause now the mutant's acid-stuff is burning through the skin on your hand, and the only thing that ends up fixing that is wiping it on your suit.

Goodbye suit.

"Aaaahhhhhh shiiiittttttttt---" The very-unhinged healer mutant has returned to panic-mode, but, as soon as you got that shit off of you, the wounds closed up nigh-instantly. "GrAB ME freaking tighter and run for it, you sonnovabitccchhhhhh!!!"

Maybe there was a reason these guys are after her after all.

"Yo Kelpie. Kelpie?! I heard somethin' crash from over here." There's a tinge of panic in Bernard's voice. "Are the two of you guys doin' okay? What the hell's goin' on over there?!"

"That crash was me." You tell him, like it's a normal thing to fall from the sky on a regular basis. "We're fine, but there's another mutant after us. One that can fly and make acid."

"Aw shit." Bernard breathes after a few, long seconds of silence. "Can't we ever get an easy day?"

Apparently not.

You're not sure if he's aware, but, from up above you can see the guy circling around. He glides over another bricked building, seemingly having given up. That is, until the man veers back your way and makes another circle around the group of buildings you're surrounded by. Again, he does the same thing, gliding over another building, giving you the false hope that he's going to leave, and comes back again. And again, and again, and again...

Shit. He can definitely see you.

"Be quiet, lady." You whisper, not removing your eyes from the sky above. "He's still looking for us." And he's probably going to try to bring those gunmen right to you.

You'd rather not bring this guy to Bernard if you didn't have to, lest you reveal the location of the other pharmacists, but it's only a matter of time before this guy's reinforcements get here.

>What do you do?
>Mad dash back like your life depends on it (To Bernard/Away from Bernard)!!!
>Try to knock this bastard out of the sky somehow.
>Taunt this guy. See if you can piss him off enough to come after you.
>Get Bernard to take him on-- he might not be able to fly, but he can teleport!!! And that's almost like flying!!
>Write-in

Sorry folks! Had to delete first version of this post cause of spelling errors!

>(2/2)

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>>4921978

Forgot to add this part:

For reference, Mieszko is the name of Konigsburg's Polish ghetto. Though nowadays it is much too affluent to be considered an actual ghetto. Very good food though! (Well, at least for those who can eat it...)

>>4921978
>>Try to knock this bastard out of the sky somehow.
I know we are the good guys but mess him up a little, I'm sure his powers could be considered a war crime. Speaking of, what does gliding have to do with acid? Is there some weird animal that does that?

>>4921978
>Try to knock this bastard out of the sky somehow.
Let's try moving behind a building and grabbing something to throw when he comes looking
>>4921985
>what does gliding have to do with acid? Is there some weird animal that does that?
I think he's just lucky, like our fishpowers that also grant regeneration

>>4921999 <- nice trips
>>4921985

What jStG06Ol said were exactly what I was gonna post in an a million paragraph explanation. Lot of animal-based mutations (or mutations in general) end up being base feature (wings, senses, etc.) + special feature (acid), and sometimes they're just [Base Feature]. Really depends on the mutant.

>>4922011
Tbf I like this formula since it balances the (mostly simple) animal powers with the strange one (teleport, telekinesis, etc)

>>4921999
>>4921985

Aight boys. Time to knock this chuju bobrze from the sky-- preferably with something we can find on the ground!

Roll me three 1d100s to see how we do!

Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>4922653

Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>4922653

>>4922653
Watch THIS!

Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>4922696
Huh, dice didn't work. Let's try again.

>>4922698
>>4922695
>>4922664

Highest Roll = 76

Writing!

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>>4922664
>>4922695
>>4922696
>>4922698
>>4922704

Haha. I just realized after rereading the part where the car was supposed to crash through the pharmacy wall that there's no sentence that actually said that (well, at least before Bernard told Elise through the comms). Fear not-- this is not a gap in the spacetime continuum or anything of the sorts!!! It's just your QM accidentally misplacing a sentence or two. So for reference it actually DID happen.

By the way, in case anyone's still wondering what a "chuj bobrze" is from this post >>4922653-- its literal translation is "dick beaver." Kek.
Anyways on with the show!

As you watch the older mutant circle through the air, you grab hold of the healer's arm and subtly try to move backwards and out of the winged mutant's sights. Doing so, you're acutely aware of the loose bits of pavement and debris that had been a result of your crash back down to Earth, and the feeling of the asphalt's rough texture against your scales gives you an idea.

Scouring the ground, your sharp eyes pick up a cluster of particularly-large stones that are exactly what you had in mind, and, with the pair of eyes still boring into your back, you feign a stumble and use your split-second of time on the ground to grab a couple of the larger rocks. Picking up a little more speed, you make a beeline to the nearest corner of a building so you can execute the next phase of your plan, the healer following behind you.

When the winged mutant notices what you're doing, he shifts his course and starts flying back in your direction.

Faster than either he or the healer mutant can blink, you whip around at blinding speed and launch one of the rocks in his direction, an a shout of pain tells you you've hit your mark as the winged mutant goes from flying to falling.

Shit, you think rather proudly. You sucked at baseball. Like really, stupendously sucked.

So much that you were the laughing stock of Karlskirche's softball team for the short time you were in it. It wasn't for your lack of physical ability, you remember; it was the fact that you were quite notorious for your... ability to pitch.

But wow. You mentally cheer yourself, a satisfied grin forming beneath your mask. Because Matt would definitely be proud of that throw.

Right as he's about to hit the ground, the winged mutant manages to right himself in the nick of time, a tree breaking his fall and causing him to tumble to the ground. As the man rises to his feet, you find that the man is exactly how the healer had described him-- disheveled, dirty, and covered in burn scars-- burn scars that litter the entirety of his torso, along with the acid that seems to be oozing out of his pores.

>(1/2)

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>>4922854

"Geev me woman." The disheveled man says, his accented voice low and rough. Green-and-brown wings are splayed threateningly behind him, as he seems determined to get the healer one way or another.

Even from this distance, you can smell the blood oozing from his torso from the freshly-made wound, mixing in with the acid that is dribbling from various places on his body. Most of said blood is fresh, though a fraction of it seems old, and, with all those burn wounds on his person, you'd think it explains a thing or two-- at least about his condition.

Still, he's not getting the healer-- not as long as you can help it-- which is why your reply to him is, "Why don't you give up instead?" At that, the man says nothing, and you remember that the healer said this guy can barely speak English. "I said leave. Go. Go home." You repeat yourself, sterner, and this time the winged man seems to get what you're saying.

However, instead of doing just that-- leaving you and the healer behind and going on his merry way-- he begins to flap his wings rapidly, warningly, and, even though the action has you slightly puzzled, there's still that feeling within you that's telling you not to let your guard down. And that feeling proves itself true as the same acid that had been dribbling over his body is fired in your direction, the man giving a savage scream as he does so.

You dodge the first wave of acid, shielding the healer with your body as flecks of acid hit your skin and costume, but, as the seconds wear on, the winged mutant's onslaught only becomes more ferocious.

>What do you do?
>Continue dodging. See if this guy runs out of steam.
>Screw it and charge the guy. You can bear this shit with your regen.
>Call Bernard in and have him attack from behind. The other pharmacists will be fine.
>Take the healer and book it the hell out of here.
>Write-in

>(2/2)

>>4922870
>>Screw it and charge the guy. You can bear this shit with your regen.

>>4922870
Is there anything close we can use to throw at him ? we could use it to create an opening

>>4922880

We still got quite a bit of debris on the ground from our crash as well as typical city stuff like cars, fire hydrants, light and telephone poles, etc.

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Probably going to have to sign off for the night. Only slept a total of five hours in the past two days, so I feel like an absolute wreck.

Fight with the pierogi-peddler & co. continues tomorrow-- most likely in the late afternoon. Until next time, kings! Or, as Schizo-Slav would say: do zobaczenia!

>>4923144
Is that really a fanart someone sent you or just a pic you got online ? Also your knowledge of polish makes me wonder if it’s a family thing

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>>4923166

I started going on OC trade threads on other boards so I could up my own skills and practice my figure drawing, and I honestly still would be considered a beginner in terms of how "good" I am (picrel is my most recent attempt at a figure)... but I draw for fun, and if I get good as a by-product I'll have a cool lifelong hobby. For some reason, people ended up really liking Julia, as you can tell.

Also I made the character a Pole by random. As Konigsburg has been an immigrant center and hub for international business for centuries, there are lots of different people with many different heritages. But truth be told some of my best memories were made in that country-- which is why I've kind of been having fun throwing in gratuitous Polish usage. No one actually taught me Polish though. I just grinded Duolingo for about a year until I could make proper conversation.

>>4922875
>>4922880

What I assume from this is that you guys want to chuck something at the Incredible Schizz and THEN try to power through his acidd?

>>4924093
Shit yea, brother.

>>4924097
>>4922875
>>4922880

Alright boys! I'll need three 1d100s for our awesome throw-and-thrash maneuver! Bonus for adding in what we're gonna throw at this chuj!

Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>4924120
Watch THIS

Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>4924120

Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>4924120

>>4924128
>>4924144
>>4924182

Highest roll: 73

Writing!!!

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>>4924128
>>4924144
>>4924182
>>4924290

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ncK3sQV1OQ

As the winged mutant shows no signs of relenting, you're hard-pressed to find an opening. However, the fact is that all this guy has is a pair of wings and some acid. So what? Does he really thing that will scare you into giving him the healer?

You're certain your regeneration is stronger-- stronger than the thick stream of acid that's searing through everything and anything it touches. Cars, street-lamps, and the brick of the surrounding buildings, nothing is spared from the wrath of his acid-- acid that is so bright-green it almost appears gold in the dim city light.

The healer, meanwhile, who'd become so frightened at the whole ordeal, has been petrified into silence, ducking behind the corner of the building you had led her to for dear life.

It's then that your eyes land on the metal garbage can that's just off to your side, perfect for what you're about to do.

Taking the lid off first, you throw it at him like a frisbee-of-death. He dodges that, but then he ends up getting slammed by the other half of the garbage can, even so much as to nick one of his wings.

You don't give him a chance to recover, surging forwards with the speed of a predator. Even with your speed, you still manage to get hit with some of the barrage-- more of the barrage than you would've liked-- the burning substance making contact with your suit and skin as that skin and sinew is simultaneously destroyed and rebuilt.

All of this happens in an instant, and you follow up your first attack with a scaly fist to the chin.

It's controlled, but, with your strength it still sends him flying backwards, skidding across the pavement until he finally rolls to a stop. And with how still he is, you'd think you killed him on accident, but your proprioception tells you otherwise, the man's heartbeat still going strong. Worst case scenario, he's playing dead-- wait, no. He's not, you come to find as the man gets to his feet, breathing haggardly and his oversized wings dragging on the ground.

In spite the injuries and blood dripping down his torso and face, he's carrying an expression of a man who still think he can win. If anything, even though he's not on your side, you find his persistence strangely admirable. "Gregorz..." He mumbles to himself in what you'd assume to be Polish. "Daj mi Gregorz..."

>(1/2)

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>>4924577

Narrowing his eyes stubbornly at you once more, he regards you with a newfound wariness. However, you can still feel it in your gut that his sights are set on the healer, even though he's pretty much on his last leg. Just how far is this guy willing go before you really beat him up? You think, as he bares his wings for whatever he's going to do next, acid and blood dripping down his torso all the while.

He jumps, shooting forwards with blinding speed in a last-ditch attempt to nab the healer.

>Roll 1d100+10 to FINISH HIM! (+5 first success, +5 second success, Bo3)

>(2/2)

Rolled 47 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>4924586
HOLD ONTO YOUR HAAAAATS

Rolled 69 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>4924586

Rolled 26 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>4924586
Let’s goooooo

>>4924627
>>4924605
>>4924592

Highest Roll: 79

Gonna grab a bite and then writing!

>>4924632
>>4924627
>>4924605
>>4924592

Apologies for lack of pics today. Didn't have enough time today to pump them out.

Thinking fast, you sidestep right into the winged-mutant's trajectory and rush forwards with an arm poised to block. He slams into your forearm, the man's thin body lacking in the same durability that you have, and, in the split-second of disorientation, you use that moment to throw him to the ground, the force of the maneuver cracking the pavement beneath you.

Though he is definitely still alive, the man doesn't get up from that, and now would be the part where you'd intterogate him-- ask him who he is and who these guys are-- but, again, he's out cold.

"Hey fish--" Bernard's voice crackles through the comm. "Sorry for the long radio silence, but I had to get those other guys somewhere safe. Dropped em' at a diner about ten miles off from here in case you're wonderin' cause I don't think those asshats will be lookin' for them there. We can get em' later." He says, and you let out a breath in relief because that's two less people to worry about. "Anyways, gonna come find you now," the teleporter tells you, and then you're left in silence with the healer and... whoever this guy is.

Speaking of the healer, she's staring curiously at the winged man-- bespectacled eyes regarding him like a frog on a dissection board. "These burn scars all look new..." She mutters beneath her breath before moving in closer. "You know what I find weird about his powers?" She asks after a long stretch of silence.

You shake your head. "Well, I'm not actually a doctor or scientist, but what I've noticed about people's powers is that their bodies change to accommodate their powers, which is why they're ultimately harmless despite what experts say." There's a sardonic emphasis on the way she says 'experts.' "If you look at this guy, you'll notice that the burn scars correspond to where the acid's exuding from his body, while the wings are completely clean."

"So his mutation's harming his body." You conclude. "But his wings are durable enough to protect themselves from the acid."

"Exactly!" She exclaims. "I just found it really interesting because I've never seen mutations act like that. What are we going to do with him anyways?"

Likely, you think you'll end up leaving this man so that whoever brought him here can take him back, hopefully before FutureLabs catches wind of him. Examining the unconscious man, you find that there's nothing on his person you can use to figure out where the rest of this guy's troupe is, and you'd think that all he had was a pair of sweatpants and nothing more.

That is, until you see the glint coming from behind a lock of his hair.

Retrieving the source of the glint, you find that the glint was none other than a comm. Jackpot.

>(1/2)

>>4924763

Pointing to the comm, you make a gesture of silence to the healer, and she seems to get the hint. When you place the comm to your ear, the first thing you hear is a shout of, "Boleski, you useless bastard!" echoing through the comm- not the same one that had threatened you out of hiding, but an entirely different one. "Mister Maranzano's clients want the healer mutant in mint condition. Ya hear me? MINT. CONDITION." You note that man's accent is strikingly similar-- if not exactly the same-- as that of Bernard's. "So if that bitch gets injured cause of you or if you end up losin' to either of those other freaky assholes, we're gonna send you right back to your old workplace lookin' like a Thanksgiving turkey!"

"Anyways, Gregor's, in one of his moods again, so try to play dead when you see him, ya hear?" The man sounds like he's half-joking but also not. "Boleski you still there?"

It seems like this guy's waiting for a response-- a response that he's not going to get.

>What do?
>Tell them you have 'Boleski' and have taken him hostage.
>Ask them who this 'Gregor' guy is and who they are.
>Threaten these dumbfucks. They don't get to fool around in your city and get away with it.
>Stay silent. Leave Boleski. Take the healer and leave.
>Write-in

>(2/2)

>>4924767
>>Threaten these dumbfucks. They don't get to fool around in your city and get away with it.

Gonna tally the votes tomorrow, probably in the late-afternoon again! Until next time, kings!

>>4924767
>Threaten these dumbfucks. They don't get to fool around in your city and get away with it.

STAY OUTTA MY TERRITORY

>>4924767
>Ask them who this 'Gregor' guy is and who they are

>>4924788
>>4924906
>>4925124

Looks like we're threatening the asshats! Writing!

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1.31 MB PNG

>>4925651
>>4924788
>>4924906

https://youtu.be/RrirVkPHNdM?t=36

You would think these guys knew you meant already meant business from your track record alone. They're likely a gang, you think, and, judging by their accents they're definitely not from around here-- probably from New York if you'd have to fancy a guess.

Still, they're messing around in your city like it's their own personal playground, and it honestly pisses you off because they don't get to mess around in your city and get away with it, which is why you think it's high-time for a little... coercion on your part.

"I don't know who you are." You start, the voice on the other end of the line still silent. "I don't know what you want. If you're looking for the healer, I can tell you I'm not giving her to you... but what I do have are a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very dangerous career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you." As you continue your monologue, you find your voice getting lower and more menacing-- a result of the cold, cold anger coursing through your veins like lightning. "If you and your cronies get out of here, that will be the end of it -- I will not look for you, I will not pursue you... but if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you... and I will kill you."

The last part is a complete and total bluff, but with just how frustrating this night has been it comes out easily.

The silence on the other end of the line tells you you've won, at least you think you have.

That is, until you hear laughter. Raucous, raucous laughter coming from the other end of the line.

It takes a good thirty seconds for the guy to finally stop laughing, but, the longer he goes, the more you want to drive your fist into this group that's been a thorn in your side and scatter them like bowling pins.

"Hoo-- Hahaha... I'm sorry," He snorts, and you imagine the guy is wiping a tear from his eye. "You really had me goin' there, you know that? Are you the one that beat the nutcase?"

"And what if I am?" What pisses you off more than the fact that this guy was laughing is that he didn't take you seriously. Not one bit.

"Ahaha, figures. Boleski could easily kill another man with his bare hands, but what good is he if he can't even kill another walkin' freakshow?" Implying this group of theirs consists of mainly non-mutants.

Good, you think. Because, guns or no guns, that will make it easier to win.

"Listen sweetcheeks," The man starts again, and the patronization in his voice sends yet another wave of anger through you. "We know for a fact ya don't kill, nor does your teleporter, and nor does that psychopath with the metal bat."

>(1/2)

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>>4925799

"But I think you know what I can do, so you better get out of my city." You threaten again, hoping that these guys will take the freaking hint already!

"I don't think so." That's the obstinate response you get. "Cause you got somethin' we want, and, well... we got a job to do." Then the comm goes to static, signifying that the gang is on their way to your location.

Removing the comm from your ear, you crush the miniature device in your palm and let the pieces fall to the ground. Probably too late to stop them from tracking you, but at least you've effectively stopped this Boleski guy from calling for anymore backup.

You wonder when Bernard's going to get here. Sure, you didn't give him your exact location, but he did hear where your fight was coming from.

At the same time you hear the blonde's voice say "Hey I think I see you guys--," you hear the very distinct vroom-vroom of a car coming in your direction at high-speed. Barreling towards you is a large van with the words STOKES MOVING COMPANY emblazoned on the side. The high-beams shining directly in your face, and, the closer it gets to you, the more you feel the well of instinct rising to the forefront of your mind.

>Wat do?
>They didn't listen to you-- show these guys a lesson they won't forget!
>Move out of sight with the healer. See what these guys will do before you try anything.
>Nothing. Grab the healer and go.
>Write-in

>>4925800
>They didn't listen to you-- show these guys a lesson they won't forget!

Oh drat, looks like they didn't get the message. Guess we're gonna have to rephrase a little!

>>4925800
>>They didn't listen to you-- show these guys a lesson they won't forget!
We are gonna move towards them, and if they die it's their own fault.

>>4925800
>Move out of sight with the healer. See what these guys will do before you try anything.
Does this mean hiding close or simpling moving from their face and remaining visible ?

>>4925814
>>4925816
>>4925920

Apologies for the delay-- went on a walk and lost track of time! Looks like we're showing these guys what it means if you play stupid games... Writing!

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>>4925814
>>4925816
>>4926012

Without an ounce of hesitation, you charge forwards, leaving the healer and Boleski behind.

You envision this car as a heap of scrap from the force a well-placed strike, and, with your thin frame, you feel comically tiny in comparison to the van that's meeting you head-on. Bernard's probably watching you do this, you think, his voice in your ear becoming a din as your mind slips deeper into that hyperfocused, instinctual state, and you hope he has the healer covered.

It's the real-life equivalent of unstoppable force versus immovable object, a pissing match between two sides-- one that you're determined to come out on top. In the instant before you make impact, it feels like time itself has crawled to a stop.

You see yourself in the window's reflection, a driver in a newsboy cap, along with two or three darkly-dressed cronies sitting in the back.

You don't even need to hold out a fist, the acceleration of your body doing the work for you, and the van is pushed backwards, tumbling, skidding, and rolling until it careens to a stop some distance away.

You sure hope that whoever was stupid enough to hitch a ride in that van had airbags, and you wait a few moments for any signs of activity before moving in to examine the van; now that the car has been properly totaled, its front having a distinctly you-shaped dent in it-- along with several other dents as a result of the crash-- there's no chance that these New Yorkers will be getting back to their boss anytime soon. Making use of your proprioception once more, you can sense that there are four heartbeats coming from the van.

Well, at least no one died. You think. Not that you were intending to kill them-- it was just to send a message. A very forceful one.

"Hey fish," Bernard's voice brings your mind back to the present. "I'm on the roof behind you!" Swiveling around, you see the figures of both the teleporter and the healer, and all it would take is a single jump to be on the same roof with them.

However, there is now a fifth heartbeat that is neither Bernard's, the healer's, nor even Boleski's, and its presence has you instantly on guard.

There's the sound of a pounding gait-- self-righteous and arrogant-- like each footstep is a deliberate effort to crush the ground beneath. Turning to meet the source of the noise, you're met with the face of another, older-looking bald man.

>(1/2)

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>>4926233

"Who the hell are you?" You question the man before you, and, looking closer at him, you notice a couple of suspiciously-weird growths coming out of his head; very long and very string-like, they positively scream mutant.

You have a feeling this is that "Gregor" guy everyone was talking about. Of course, his next words confirm it.

"The name's Gregor. Gregor Samford." Like the rest of his ilk, his New York accent is evident in his voice. However, said voice is very much familiar in the fact that it was the same one that had been threatening you out of the pharmacy.

"Leave it to Boleski to screw up the simplest shit." He says. "Can't even win to one of you Konigsburger FREAKS." Something about this guy reminds you of Clyde, but, unlike the Australian who might have had some semblance of a brain in his skull, this guy is an absolute meathead.

"Wahhh, waahhhh, come save me. I'm such a retard. I can't even call for help in proper English." He mocks the other mutant. "Didja know that asshole can't even function correctly without his fuckin' meds? Shoulda fuckin' sent me like I told em. Now I'm fuckin' PISSED."

>"Meds? Why does Boleski need meds?"
>"If they didn't think Boleski would win, why'd they send him instead of you?"
>"Why does your Maranzano guy want the healer so badly?"
>Just knock this guy out. Boleski was easy picking-- this guy should be too. (Requires Roll.)
>Get to Bernard and GTFO. You got the healer. You're not going to drag this on any longer than it has to go. (Requires Roll.)
>Write-in

>(2/2)

>>4926240
>"Meds? Why does Boleski need meds?"

>>4926240
>>"Why does your Maranzano guy want the healer so badly?"
We'll check the hard drive when we go back

More mutant mayhem continues tomorrow-- again in the late-afternoon (cause my eyes are closing on their own).

I'll be back to count the votes then, so until next time, kings!

>>4926240
>"Why does your Maranzano guy want the healer so badly?"

>>4926245
>>4926248
>>4926472

Asking why Maranzano wants the healer.

Writing!!

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>>4926248
>>4926472
>>4926999

Though you're very curious as to why Boleski need meds, a number of possibilities swirling through your head, the more prominent question is why?

"Why does Maranzano want the healer so badly?" You end up asking aloud.

"Apparently she can fix anythin' with her healin' powers. Autism, fatal injuries, the big C, you name it, but it's not even the big boss who wants her. We're just usin' her to make a transaction." To whom? That's something you'll definitely need to know because who's to say these "clients" won't just hire another gang to retrieve the healer later on?

However, the other presumed-mutant doesn't give you another second to ask. "But enough talk! I know the healer's around here somewhere, so if you don't give her to us you'll end up sleepin' with the fishes-- for real this time-- and, boy, am I in the mood to BREAK SOMETHING tonight."

Immediately after he says that, you hear the tinny voice of his comm relay something to the bald mutant. You can't quite make out what's being said, but whatever they're telling him is making the other mutant frown. "HEY. You promised me a fight if I tagged along, and guess what? I didn't get one." The tinny voice says something else, and, if anything, the frown that Gregor was already wearing deepens to a nigh-impossible degree. "NO. I don't give a crap about any stupid policement, bein' quiet, or anythin' like that, so you better shut your piehole before I turn Nacht Haven into a worse shithole than it already is!"

His sleeves, which are suspiciously oversized, bulge and twitch eratically, as do the hair-like growths on his head. Antennae. Your mind supplies, and you have to wonder just what Gregor's hiding under his sleeves.

In this brief moment that the other mutant's distracted, you're not quite sure what to do. On one hand, he could easily be bluffing about Nacht Haven, just like you were about killing their whole crew. With Bernard on the rooftop behind Gregor, you could easily get out of here and wash your hands of this whole ordeal.

On the other hand, if this guy's for real, just how far will he go?

>What do you do?
>Get to Bernard and get back to the warehouse. You'd rather not fight this extremely-deranged mutant.
>Attack him and end it here! He wants a fight, he'll get a fight.
>Offer to fight him. Get him to do so on YOUR terms.
>Write-in

>>4927059
>Get to Bernard and get back to the warehouse. You'd rather not fight this extremely-deranged mutant.
Sigma rule 68#: cuck rabbid enemies of fight

>>4927059
>Attack him and end it here! He wants a fight, he'll get a fight.
If the healer actually heals anything then maybe Julia will forgive us now...

Gonna come back at 20:00-20:30 and roll a dice if we haven’t reached a consensus. See you then!

>>4927092
>>4927094
>>4927271

>1 = Get Bernard and run to the warehouse.
>2 = Attack him and end it here!

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>4927347

Forgot to roll.

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>>4927349

Looks like we're attacking Mr. Samsa-- I mean, Mr. Samford...

Gonna need three 1d100s to see how well it goes. Also enjoy the deleted scene cause I was convinced that the ditching vote would win out.

Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>4927353

>>4927364
The blessed row

Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>4927353

Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>4927353

>>4927409
>>4927390
>>4927364

Highest Roll: 88
>Writing!

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>>4927364
>>4927367
>>4927390
>>4927409
>>4927415

Not giving the other mutant a warning, you launch yourself forwards with a fist outstretched.

He wants a fight? You'll give him a fight, and you won't give him a chance to hit back. When your fist makes contact with the larger man's torso, the surface you hit feels like you're punching a wall. Not at all resembling human flesh, it's what you more-or-less expected from a guy with an obvious bug mutation.

He flies into the building behind him, glass shattering and brick caving in all around him, and you think that's the end of it.

However, when Gregor comes striding out of the wreckage as if nothing happened (albeit a little bit more than scuffed), you know that you're not dealing with a run-of-the-mill, everyday case of rogue mutant.

"Howabout a warning before you try somethin' like that?" The false geniality is evident in his tone. As he makes his way towards you, the sleeves in his shirt tear apart to reveal another set of arms, while a carapace quickly moves to cover everything but his face.

He tears the garment off, throwing it to the ground and allowing you to behold his transformed state that no doubt is that of a cockroach's, and it's when you're staring that you realize there's an odd, primordial sort of fear trying to worm its way into your chest-- one that you used to feel every time you encountered one of those bugs. However, the presence of your instinct dulls it to a point to where it's little more than a faint feeling at the back of your mind.

"Take a look at me now, ya Konigsburger trash! Likin' what you're seein?'" He gives a smirk as he readies himself to charge, his voice obnoxiously loud and booming. "Cause, by the time I'm through with you, your guys won't even be able to tell WHAT PART OF YOU IS WHICH!"

>Dodge him! Maybe he'll get tired of chasing after you.
>Take this jerk head-on. You think you can win it.
>Initiate Berserker Mode. Might be overboard, might not be; but do you really wanna risk it?
>Write-in

>>4927500

Gonna have to stop here for the night cause I'm feeling rather wonky for no reason whatsoever. Our mano-a-mano against mister bugman will continue tomorrow.

Sorry for the short updates-- until next time, kings!

>>4927500
>>Take this jerk head-on. You think you can win it.

>>4927500
>>Dodge him! Maybe he'll get tired of chasing after you.

Spider-Man vs. Rhino never ended well when Spidey tried to go heads up against him.

>>4927500
>Dodge him! Maybe he'll get tired of chasing after you.
Wear him down a little!

>>4927592
But we are not the bug person in this scenario

>>4927597
No, but we are the not-juggernaut (the general term, not the supervillain) in it.

>>4927500
>Use your mobility to hit any weakpoints you find

>>4927588
>>4927592
>>4927596
>>4927657

Astute observations, anons. This is exactly the kind of discussion that gets me HYPED!!!

Since I wanna try to get an update out before I go run some errands, it looks like we're going to be dodging Mister big, bald, and fugly, which means I'm gonna need three 1d100s to see how well we do!

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>4928170
Good afternoon, Siren.

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>>4928170

For the sake of moving the fight along, I’m gonna close the roll at 16:30 EST. Not that I wanna withhold the joy of rolling from everyone else but, again, I wanted to move the fight along.

Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>4928170

Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>4928170

>>4928331
>>4928312
>>4928219

>Highest Roll: 77
Writing!

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>>4928219
>>4928312
>>4928331
>>4928350

>Highest Roll: 77
>Dodge! Dodge! Dodge!

You sense the car coming at you before you see it, that secondary voice in your head telling you to movemoveMOVE!. Deftly, you jump out of the way before it ends up crashing into the building behind you, red brick and glass flying everywhere as a result. By the time you land, Gregor's already charging at you again, a wicked-looking grin plastered on his face.

"RRAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!" As he comes at you with a flurry of fists, you notice that each of his limbs is adorned with a row of dangerous-looking spikes, and, much like your fins that can slice through rocks like butter, you would bet that those things hurt with the amount of strength on this guy.

Still, you have no choice but to go on the defensive, dodging each of Gregor's punches that send an explosion of brick, asphalt, and glass flying up each time; and, the longer you avoid him, the more fervent the roach-mutant seems to become with his attacks.

He's getting angrier, that's for sure, and, when he realizes that his punches aren't working, he tears an entire telephone pole from the ground, using it to smash everything in sight as he makes his way up to you. "What's the matter Kelpie? CAN'T TAKE THE HEAT?!" Gregor bellows, and it's not long before the telephone pole ends up breaking. Dropping the object to the ground, he takes whatever he can find next-- this time a small sedan-- flinging it at you with renewed force.

By now, there's a flurry of confusion happening on the ground, as you hear the noises of panicked citizens scrambling to escape from the buildings. No doubt Bernard's got that covered; even if he has to keep the healer with him and push his own limits, you know for a fact that he won't leave any bystanders in danger.

Several more heavy objects come flying at you with only one of them nicking your elbow, followed by Gregor himself, the man charging up the side of the building in the same way that a real bug would do and trying to get the jump on you from beneath.

"WHY DONTCHA LET ME HIT YOU FOR A CHANGE, YA FILTHY--" A hit, a dodge, a miss. "--SCALY--" Another strike that you barely dodge. "--FREAK!"

>(1/2)

>>4928465

You think that, at this rate, Gregor really will end up destroying Nacht Haven, as yet another car collides into the next building. It is clearly visible to you that not only is the roach mutant trying his best to turn you into a human-pancake, but it also seems as if he's trying to cause as much damage as possible.

And, right now, this guy, who is the equivalent of a humanoid tank, doesn't seem to be slowing down any time soon.

>What do you do?
>Get in closer! Use your mobility to hit any weakpoints you can find!
>Lead Gregor elsewhere! Find somewhere you can use the environment to outsmart him!
>Go on the attack, and try to overwhelm him with force!
>Write-in

Note: Like all cockroaches, Gregor DOES have wings. However, not all species of cockroach are known to fly, and Gregor's species happens to be one of them.

>>4928471
>Get in closer! Use your mobility to hit any weakpoints you can find!

>>4928471
>Get in closer! Use your mobility to hit any weakpoints you can find!
time to use our fins

>>4928471
>Get in closer! Use your mobility to hit any weakpoints you can find

HA HA, TIME TO GET PULVERIZED!

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>>4928476
>>4928514
>>4928537

Time to BUG the hell out of this guy by looking for his weakpoints-- and see how we do while we're at it!

Roll me three 1d100s!! Bonus for giving what and where we're aiming!

Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>4928548
Let’s gooooo

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>4928548
Those antennae of his seem like decent targets...Otherwise let's go for the eyes!

Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>4928548

Rolling one last time, then WRITING!

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>>4928560
>>4928561
>>4928739

DC was 70.

As you survey the wreckage of the fight thus far, the familiar, sweet scent of blood is a pungent presence as it attempts to clog your mind just from the heat of the fight alone. Somehow, you can tell that Gregor smells it too-- not for any reason other than the fact that you just know, like the feeling of knowing where a heartbeat is.

Unlike you, however, Gregor absolutely revels in it-- revels in the destruction that he's wrought-- which is why stopping him here instead of letting him continue this rampage is a must.

The thought that Gregor is a goliath in comparison to you doesn't faze you one bit. However, that carapace of his is the only thing standing between you and victory because it's basically his suit of armor; like all mutant powers, you'd like to think that there's a weak point somewhere, and, as your mind reels for a solution to the problem at hand, you notice that his face is exposed, perfectly ripe for the taking.

Those antennae, too, seem wiry and delicate; and, as antennae are a highly-important sensory organ in insects-- able to smell, feel, sense temperature, and detect motion-- to remove that part of him would give you a greater advantage in this fight.

Seizing your chance, you bound forwards at lightning speed and draw ever-closer to your target. Another large, heavy object sails past you, followed by another, and another; and, when you close the distance, you take advantage of his large size and low-dexterity to maneuver up and around him to finish your attack from behind.

You feel a cold rush of satisfaction when you rip the first antenna clean-off, followed by only part of the second, and that causes the older mutant to positively howl in pain. His eyes are next to go, you think, as you make to retreat so you can prepare for what you'll do next.

It's when you're making this retreat of yours that you're literally snatched out of mid-air by two very large arms-- arms that squeeze for all they're worth as several of your bones crack from the pressure.

It hurts. Hurts terribly, even though you know your regeneration will do its thing, and, when he throws you to the ground, the two of you are sent crashing down into the building below.

>(1/2)

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>>4928858

The only reason why you're loosened from his grasp is due to the fact that he didn't seem to realize that he'd break the wall. Though the force of the impact causes you to see stars for a brief moment, you're able to scramble out from beneath him, half-running, half-limping into the building so you can buy yourself enough time to regenerate.

[/b]"THINK TAKIN' MY ANTENNA IS FUNNY?! HUH?!"[/b] You hear the other mutant gaining on you. "CAUSE GUESS WHAT?! THESE STUPID THINGS DON'T GROW BACK!!!" He barrels through the walls like they're made of paper, while you pump your legs faster towards the nearest window in spite of the receding pain. "THIS IS WHY YOU KONIGSBURGER TRASH DISGUST ME LIKE THERE'S NO TOMORROW! CAUSE YOU'RE ALL ASSHOLES!!"

No sooner than you're back in the open air than the walls behind you explode outward with Gregor charging forward in the wake of it, and the cycle of throwing, dodging, and chasing begins anew.

Before, it had been a thought in the back of your mind-- that the longer this fight drags on, the higher of a chance you have of FutureLabs closing in on you-- but now it's becoming more-than certain, if the sounds of the sirens in the distance are any indication.

>What do you do?
>Berserker Mode! It's your last resort, but it could potentially end the fight.
>Lead him in the direction of the cops, let THEM take him down!
>Taunt him! Distract him long enough to attack him again. Maybe he'll fall for it...
>Write-in

>(2/2)

>>4928869
>>Berserker Mode! It's your last resort, but it could potentially end the fight.
Alright, playtime's over.

>>4928869
>Berserker Mode! It's your last resort, but it could potentially end the fight.

All-in, baby!

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>>4928872
>>4928916

It's unanimous!!! Time to show Gregor why FISH are at the top of the food chain!

So roll me three 1d100s-15! (-10 for under pressure, -5 for light injury)
Bonus for writing in our plan-of-attack, etc.

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>4928931
Make use of our fins and their angle to attack while dodging, aim for the joints since its likely his armor won't protect him there

>>4928931

Forgot to mention that this is the last update of the night.

I wanted to get out another one, but it's late where I am. That, and I'm trying to set my sleep-schedule straight (for once).

In any case, I'm having a lot of fun with this arc, and I honestly can't wait to get to the next one!

So until next time, kings!

Rolled 78 - 15 (1d100 - 15)

>>4928931
https://youtu.be/ONpw8nS8pgo

He's swingging widely due to blind fury, let's use his momentum do target his arm joints, maybe knees when we evade an attack. In general we should aim for his head and and then ribs when he tries to block.

Rolled 78 - 15 (1d100 - 15)

>>4928931
Thanks for running, man--sleep well!

>>4928946
>>4929080
Dubs rolls! that's gotta be worth something

don't forget to make a show of entering berzerker mode

>>4928941
>>4928946
>>4929080
>>4929084
>>4929204

>Highest Roll: 63!
Writing!

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>>4929655


https://youtu.be/ONpw8nS8pgo

Righteous fury. You settle your mind on thoughts of righteous fury wrought from the surrounding wreckage and smell of blood and let your consciousness take a backseat-- into the place where that deep-rooted, instinctual part of yourself lies in wait.

You consider your Berserker Mode a last resort. However, nothing in this fight has gotten you even close to taking Gregor down, which is why you think it's the best shot you have at victory.

Once you take hold of those mental strings and pull, you feel your spine tingle, and that tingle quickly becomes a burn as reality becomes a thought in passing. You feel the back of your suit rip, and you're vaguely aware of the humid night wind hitting more skin than it was a few seconds ago. Yet, at the same time, you can't bring yourself to care, as all your mind is focused on is that one, singular goal of taking Gregor down for good.

"YA THINK THAT GROWIN' AN EXTRA FIN'S GONNA HELP YOU?! HUH?!" You hear the voice of Gregorgregorprey echo into the night. "NEWSFLASH. NO MUTANT'S EVER WON A FIGHT AGAINST ME-- NOT EVEN THAT NUTJOB, DOMINIK."

His words are lost upon your ears, and you surge forwards with savage intent, aiming for one of his arms with a fin and bringing it down where you see flesh instead of hardened shell. Sparks are sent flying into the air as fin and carapace make contact, and, when your fin finally meets flesh and the smell of blood fills the air anew, you find your mouth watering against your will as your mind becomes further clouded from the thrill of it all.

A bellow of pain follows suit as you leap backwards and out of the way of danger. However, your lowered state of cognizance in combination with the other mutant's rage ends with you vastly underestimating his retaliation-speed, and, in the blink of an eye, the only thoughts your mind can form are painpainpain--

Though your newly-formed dorsal fin protects you from the brunt of his strike, several of his spikes end up grazing your back-- deeply-- bringing skin and fabric with them.

There's blood-- blood everywhere-- and, even with your regeneration working overtime, most of the blood is yours. The only thing you managed to do was cut his left arm, Gregor using his other arm to stem the flow. Unfortunately, that was only one limb out of the five more that are still unscathed.

Amid the searing pain, blood, and the fog that's currently overcome your mind, that cognizant part of you-- the one that has taken a backseat-- is screaming at you, pushing you back to your feet, and telling you that you can still take Gregor down.

>The question is HOW?
>Go for his ARMS!
>Go for the LEGS!
>Go for his FACE!
>Overwhelm him with FORCE!
>Write-in

>>4929677
>>Go for the LEGS!

>>4929677
>Go for the LEGS!

>>4929677
>Go for the LEGS!
Fuck I thought he had 4 arms, not six. Well, time to fuck his knees
https://youtu.be/wuO_r6Qre9Q

>>4929795

Yeah Gregor has four arms, two of which he was hiding in his sleeves-- the extra arms were one of Gregor's permanent mutations!

>>4929685
>>4929686

Now it's time to roll! Best of three 1d100s! You guys know the drill!

Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>4929816

>>4929795

Oh, you meant you thought he had SIX arms.

In the sentence from post >>4929677, where it says "... only one limb out of the five more that are still unscathed..." I was referring to ALL of Gregor's limbs. Not just his arms.

I think if he had eight limbs he wouldn't even BE a cockroach, he'd be a freaking tick. Cause he SUCKS. Get it?

>>4929853
>was referring to ALL of Gregor's limbs. Not just his arms.
Oh thanks, it seems I jumped the gun.

Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>4929816

Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>4929816
HERE GOESSSSSSS

>>4929995
>>4929965
>>4929847

Highest roll: 68
>Writing

>>4930005

Forgot trip.

>>4929847
>>4929995
>>4929965

>Legs so hot. Hot, hot legs.
>Highest Roll: 68
>We barely made it, ya bastards!

ARmOrArmorjointsjointsJoInTs--- For every limb, there is a joint, and, for every joint, there is flesh-- flesh that is both exposed and vital to Gregor's ability to move. What's more is that whatever regeneration ability the roach-mutant has seems lackluster in comparison to yours, if he even can regenerate at all.

Of course all of these notions are simple afterthoughts that exist in the back of your mind because, much like being in a waking dream, the cognizant part of your mind is a mere passenger in the state that is your Berserker Mode. Where consciousness has all-but faded, your impulse is king, and it is what guides you forwards in preparation of your next attack.

Heartbeat thumping wildly in your ears, all of the motion around you is a blur-- even Gregor, whose lumbering towards you appears as if it were in slow-motion-- and, though you don't remember what happens next, you can feel yourself moving as if liquid fire were coursing through your veins.

Sharp pain erupts from your thighs as you're struck again by the cockroach-mutant's spikes, but not before you've sliced into the flesh of his leg with your fins, causing a spray of red to fill the air.

There's screaming, there's cursing, and vaguely your mind registers the fact that he's limping as he tries to swing at you again, but he misses, fists positively decimating the brick wall beside you; and, in the split-second that he's distracted, you take the opportunity to dive to the side and dig your claws into the other leg.

Just barely, you dodge another enraged swing from the other mutant who has forgone his love of wanton destruction in lieu of trying to exact his revenge on you, albeit staggeringly.

>(1/2)

>>4930113

You're covered in a mixture of yours and Gregor's blood, and-- even though you're positively wiped-- the more the scent of it fills your nostrils, the stronger that savage voice within you calls to draw more blood.

>What do you do?
>Aim for HIS FACE!
>Mess up the rest of HIS LIMBS!
>Use HIS STUPIDITY against him!
>Write-in

Sidenote: Elise's cognizance is as good as it was when we tested out Berserker Mode in thread 8 (i.e. everything's a blur; we barely remember what's going on), but, for the sake of depicting how successful our rolls are, more descriptive narration is needed.

>(2/2)

>>4930119
>>Use HIS STUPIDITY against him!

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>>4930170

So many rolls, so little time! Roll to use Gregor's 9000!!! IQ against him!

Bonus for HOW we do it! Once again, you guys know the drill!

Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>4930344
Get near an hydrant and taunt the fucker, then we dodge, making him strike it and finish him in the confusion. Plus the wetter the better.

Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>4930344
I say we lead him to a car, our fins made sparks with his armor, maybe we can put him on fire.

Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>4930344
HANG ONTA SOMETHIIINGG

>>4930403
>>4930375
>>4930364

>Highest Roll: 61
Roll status: pass(by a hair's breadth)

I'm gonna see if I can pump out the update for this one because I have a really good idea of how it's gonna go. If not, I'll see you guys tomorrow!

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>>4930412
>>4930403
>>4930375
>>4930364

HECK YEAH LAST UPDATE!!!
>Highest Roll: 61
>HUR HUR GREGOR IZ DUBM

Fueled by a mixture of resolve and instinct, even in the haze of Berserker Mode, you know very well that the only way to get any damage on Gregor is to actually get close to him. However, you are reminded by the very small sliver of rationality not to repeat the same mistakes as before, as being direct about your attacks has only gotten you so far.

Spotting the two sizeable wings on Gregor's back, you don't spare a second as you bound around him before climbing up them, clinging onto them with your claws. Your Berserker Mode lends you extra strength as you dig into the part of the wing that meets the shoulder blade, and, when you hear him curse at you he tries to swing at you with one of his still-working arms.

Your reflexes spare you from the brunt of the hit, but, when you see the large, noticeable dent in his suit of armor, there's something in your fogged-up mind that just clicks. Scrambling to his other shoulder, you wait for him to strike again before clinging elsewhere.

Over and over, you repeat this pattern of climb-hit-dodge, letting Gregor be the one to destroy his best defense.
"RRRRRAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!! THIS IS THE FINAL STRAW!!!" He hits himself again and again, trying to hit you at any cost. You hear crackling, followed by another scream as the larger mutant ends up injuring himself; then the amount of arms aiming for you goes from three to two. "YOU STUPID FREAK I'LL KILL YOU!!!!"

By now, although you're still taking in damage from getting grazed by those spikes, the majority of the blood being spilt is Gregor's.

It's terribly tantalizing, and, from losing so much blood yourself, the thought of rephlenishing your body is becoming all-the-more appealing. What's more is that the source of said rephlenishment is right beneath your claws, baring his flesh to you.

It's distracting, and highly so, as thoughts of Righteous Anger are suddenly warring with your innermost desire to survive. Survive by any means necessary. It's enough that you're knocked in the head by a stray fist, and, for a brief moment, the world tilts around you-- so much that you're thrown to the ground.

>(1/2)

>>4930467

However, the large, man-shape mass beside you tells you that the world hasn't fallen off its hinges, nor have you died.

No. That blood-covered mass that is somewhat-man and somewhat-cockroach has fallen to the ground. Now that the dust has settled, your mind registers the multitude of wounds covering the man's upper body-- on his head, neck, face, and shoulders-- and, although that last stretch of the fight felt like an eternity, it was probably less than two minutes, tops.

Now you're back on your feet, still trapped in that haze as your mind wars with your body.

"WHAT?! WHATCHA GONNA DO TO ME?" You vaguely register the words. "KILL ME?! EAT ME?!" He asks mockingly, despite the fact that he's the one on the ground. Eat... is the only thing your mind takes hold of.

"DON'T THINK I DON'T SEE THAT LOOK IN YOUR EYES, YA PSYCHO! CAUSE GUESS WHAT I DO TO EVERY MUTANT I KILL?! I FREAKIN' EAT MUTANTS LIKE YOU FOR BREAKFAST!! AND I DON'T FEEL SORRY ONE BIT CAUSE THEY ALL TASTED FREAKIN' FANTASTIC." On one hand, the rational part of yourself would feel disgust, and a little bit of that wells up in you at his words. On the other, the more prominent side of your mind is... strangely accepting, and, frozen in place, you find yourself at war with yourself.

>What do you do?
>Wake up now-- before you do something you'll regret! (Requires Roll.)
>Knock him out and shut him up for good!
>Give Gregor a taste of his own medicine-- show him who the real animal is!
>Write-in

>(2/2)

>>4930471
>>Knock him out and shut him up for good!

>>4930471
>Knock him out and shut him up for good!

>>4930471
>Knock him out and shut him up for good!

>>4930481
>>4930497
>>4930510

KO TIME! Writing!

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>>4930481
>>4930497
>>4930510
>>4931142

A well-placed hit to Gregor's skull has the other mutant down for the count. If only to stop him from egging you on, any longer hearing his words-- along with the prospect of food-- and you might've done something you would've regretted later on.

This whole time you've been in Berserker Mode, everything around you has been a blur-- from the city lights around you, down to the unconscious mutant lying before you-- and the only sound that you register is the sound of your own breaths.

---------

You don't even realize when the world around you goes black. However, it's not long before you're roused by a familiar voice as you're being shaken awake.

"Hey you're awake!" Bernard cheers, the healer standing beside him. When your awareness is returned to you, you find yourself standing upright, the roach mutant at your feet. With the way your mind had snapped back into the present, it feels like you'd been thrown down a drop-down ride at breakneck speed; and although you had been present during that whole fight with Gregor, the memory of the fight is spotty.

Sure, you remember bloodying both of his legs, clinging to his head for dear-life, and, most-of-all, the hunger. However, now that your properly awake, even those final, taunting words he had said to you are further from your reach than they had been when you actually were in Berserker Mode-- like the whole thing was a very fast-paced dream.

Surveying the damage around you, you notice that Nacht Haven is in a far-sorrier state than it was before. Almost no building nor car had been spared from the roach-mutant's wrath, the scene before you looking akin to a warzone. And it might as-well have been, you think, with how strong Gregor had been.

Now, it's just a matter of time before the police get here to cart him off to mutant-jail, the red-and-blue lights clearly visible in the distance.

"Hey guys, I think we gotta scram..." Bernard's voice breaks you from your thoughts, "Oh, and I hope you still got the cash Bludgeon gave you in your--" The blonde's eyes become wide like saucers. "Aahhh-hum-crap--" He stammers, finally realizing the sorry state that your suit is in, and now he's trying to look anywhere but at you, if only to be polite.

Oh. You think, looking down at yourself and at the wardrobe malfunction that you've been fighting with for who-knows how long.

Sympathetic to your plight, the healer mutant is quick to give you her scrub-jacket, and, once you're covered, Bernard looks like he can breathe again.

Unfortunately, your brief moment of peace is ended all-too-soon when a familiar winged mutant lands before you. Immediately, you and Bernard are on guard, interposing yourselves between him and the healer. However, what he says next ends up catching the two of you off-guard.

"Not want fighting." Boleski says in broken English. "I'm not here... to fight. I just need heal."

>(1/2)

>>4931199

"And why should you get healed after your guys tried to kill us?" Bernard argues, crossing his arms at the older mutant.

"I--" Boleski begins and quickly stops himself, brows furrowing in consternation. It seems that even he is having trouble finding a reason as to why he should be healed after what he had done, aside from the burn wounds that are still fresh on his person.

You're not sure how much time you have to keep chit-chatting with this guy before the police show up, but you suspect the answer's not long at all, which is why you need to make a decision (and quickly!).

>What do you do?
>This guy's a douche--if he gets healed, he'll probably come back for us with more of his cronies. Let's scram!
>"Wait a minute. How do we know you're just not trying to buy sympathy from us so you can steal the healer?"
>Alright. We'll heal Boleski, but he'll answer whatever question we ask him (Tell us why you're working for these weirdos, need meds, screwy powers, Maranzano, etc.)
>Write-in.

>(2/2)

>>4931205
>>Alright. We'll heal Boleski, but he'll answer whatever question we ask him (Tell us why you're working for these weirdos, need meds, screwy powers, Maranzano, etc.)
Poor acid schizoid man

>>4931205

Should've added that we probably have time for 1-2 questions. Anyways, I'll be back to tally the votes sometime later, as I'm heading out!

Until then, kings!

>>4931205
>Alright. We'll heal Boleski, but he'll answer whatever question we ask him (Tell us why you're working for these weirdos and why does he need med)

>>4931205
>Alright. We'll heal Boleski, but he'll answer whatever question we ask him (Tell us why you're working for these weirdos!)

>>4931268
>>4931251
>>4931236
>>4931229

Healing and asking questions! Writing!

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>>4931331
>>4931268
>>4931251
>>4931229

"Alright. We'll heal you." You tell Boleski. "But you're going to answer whatever we ask you." Wordlessly he nods, and the healer emerges from behind the two of you, eyeing Boleski with caution.

Once her hands begin to glow with a blue-and-purplish light, the woman dips back into some semblance of professionality and sets to work.

"Why are you working for those gangsters?" You ask first because Boleski doesn't give off the impression of someone who particularly likes working for his gang, given the way the other gangsters were talking about him; it seems to you like he's was just following orders.

"They give me lek--leki..." It takes a few seconds for him to answer as he stumbles over his words, and, realizing he's dipping back into Polish, he mutters a few curses before pulling a small pill bottle from his pocket. "This." He enunciates. "I work, I get this."

That explains Gregor's words from earlier. "But it's not just leki." He continues. "I get food. I get bed. I don't live like dog." If living with those guys was considered not living like a dog, you can't help but wonder how bad Boleski's situation was beforehand.

"But I don't like Gregorz. Don't like Maranzano." Boleski tells you, and, looking at the other mutant, you can tell that his words are earnest for the most part.

As those words of his hang in the air, your mind settles on another question you have-- one that's been bugging you since your fight with Gregor. "Why do you need that medication?" The first guess your mind went to was addiction, but, with the words 'nutcase' and 'nutjob' being thrown around by the other gang members, your gut is telling you that there's more to the story than meets the eye.

No matter, Boleski doesn't seem to be offended at your question. Instead, what seems to cross his face is a mixture of shame, grief, and remorse as he then proceeds to he pulls another something out from his pocket and hands it to you-- a keycard. A keycard with a logo you know all too well.

"Wait-- you were FutureLabs?!" Bernard takes the words right out of your mouth. He nods, and, as you examine the card for yourself, you find that the image of the man on the card has a little more life in his eyes than the one standing before you.

"All the time, I hear voices. Mutant voices." Boleski clarifies, and you think you know what he means by mutant voices. "They pain, sometimes die, and..." He falters, averting his eyes to the ground. "...and I think I should be with them." It takes everything in Boleski to admit that last part.

>(1/?)

>>4931533

"Wasn't like this before Doctor Charles did this to me." He says, and, by now, most of the more-recent burn wounds have completely disappeared thanks to the healer. "He said he make me strong, better mutant than before, but instead he make me crazy and stupid." Before. Which tells you that Boleski had been a mutant from the time the particle accelerator exploded, and, like Eddie, he'd been one of the mutants that had been working for FutureLabs from the get-go.

You have a very strong feeling that the substance they used on him was none other than Aurum Impulsum-- that same, dreaded substance that was used on the Crux girls. Perhaps there's some info on the hard drive, you think, and you make a mental note to ask Matt or Eddie if they have any info on Boleski later.

"Sorry my English sucks." Boleski is apologetic. "Also is Charles' fault."

"Don't apologize." You tell him. "We're going to take him down." At that, he nods, and you see some of the tension fall from his shoulders.

"Then take the kartek-- kart." He tries to correct himself, motioning to the keycard in your hands. "It should work still." He informs you, and, with that, you hand it to Bernard, whose pockets are still functional.

"Done!" The healer chimes in, and, although his torso's still covered in many old wounds, it looks way better for the most part. You know you're cutting it awfully close with the cops around the corner, so you're pretty sure this is where the four of you will part.

"Dziękuję bardzo." Whatever he's saying is probably some sort of thanks, and, with that, he shoots into the air, flying off to wherever. You sure hope he quits that gang.

Looks like it's your cue to leave too, and your night is far from over!

First thing's first, you need to take care of the other pharmacists that you and Bernard left in the dust.

By the time you get back to them, the two of them are loitering outside the diner, and, when they see you, they're wearing odd expressions that are somewhere between distressed and relieved. You tell them not to say anything about the M-Guard looking for the healer mutant or being in Nacht Haven for that matter; because, even though you might be incriminated on the news from your fight with Gregor, you would rather not have the healer placed in danger again anytime soon.

>(2/3)

>>4931535

With the two pharmacists taken care of, now that the dust has mostly settled, the exhaustion from your double-trouble fight is setting in, and, although you know you need to head to the warehouse so you can get Valjean and Julia healed, you find yourself wanting nothing more than to faceplant into something comfortable for as long as you live. Preferably with something good to eat.

From beside you, you can tell that Bernard, too, looks ready to fall flat on his face, as he's also teleported himself to the bone, so the question is what next?

>A quick bite to eat would do you some good! Get B some caffeine in his system while you're at it!
>A change of clothes! You can't stay in these lousy scrubs forever.
>Forget the breather, let's skip straight business! To the warehouse!
>Write-in

>(3/3)

>>4931538
>>Forget the breather, let's skip straight business! To the warehouse!

>>4931538
>Forget the breather, let's skip straight business! To the warehouse!

>>4931538
>A quick bite to eat would do you some good! Get B some caffeine in his system while you're at it!
Just to make sure nothing funny happens

>>4931549
>>4931563
>>4931571

Time to get down to business! Writing the last update of the night!

File: fat_stackz.png (1.15 MB, 645x1024)

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>>4931549
>>4931563
>>4931606

"Let's just get this over with." You shoot to Bernard and the healer, pushing the feelings of hunger to the back of your mind. It's not enough to have you rabid and ready to bite someone's head off, but it's enough to be bothersome, gnawing at your gut with every passing second.

Soon enough, Nacht Haven's decimated streets are replaced with the ever-familiar warehouse, and, now that there's nothing else to deal with for the time being (besides the whole healing part of the deal), you feel your body sag.

"The dough, please." The healer coughs. When Bernard hands her the stack of bills, the first thing she does with her newly-acquired money is count it-- over and over again-- and, the longer she does so, the more it looks as if drool could fall from her mask at any second.

"Ahehehehe..." The healer laughs at the lump-sum in her hands, the look on her face being what you think is a mixture of disbelief, euphoria, or both.

Briefly, you wonder if this is what you look like when you're hungry, and you can't help it as your mind drifts to fresh tuna, caught by your hand. Delicious, tasty tuna.

Your tongue brushes against your teeth, and when you realize what you're doing you want to mentally slap yourself. Focus, Elise! Food can come later.

You'd been so wrapped up in thoughts of dinner that you hadn't even realized when Bernard had brought Valjean and Julia to you, a hand on your shoulder bringing you back into the present. "--Kelpie! Earth to Kelpie!" The blonde's voice echos in the warehouse. "You know it's my job to fall asleep on the job, right?" Outwardly, Bernard is joking, but you can tell that he's concerned.

"H-Hello, ladies and gents." The healer greets the new arrivals, off-put by the presence of two more people. "You must be my clients, so you can take a seat somewhere and I'll--I'll be right with you..." At that, Julia wanders off, presumably to find somewhere to sit; Valjean, on the other hand, takes a good few moments to look you and Bernard up-and-down, not-quite-believing the amount of blood and rubble you two are covered in.

"I would ask what happened to you guys, but I think I'm better off not knowing." He says, and then he hobbles off, crutches click-clacking against the ground.

Now that you got the healer, it's just a matter of who she heals first.

>Wat do?
>Tell her to heal Valjean's leg first!
>Tell her to heal Julia first!
>Let the healer decide!
>Write-in

>>4931655
>>Tell her to heal Julia first!

>>4931655
>Tell her to heal Julia first!