>>6114914
Remix is a super need.

>have her send a pdf or whatever of the info. Or at least ask more than what bingo means.

>meet grant after school. Then go home.

>Text dad that we'll be home for dinner.

>>6114914
>Arrange to visit Remix at the Farm

>>6114914
>Arrange to visit Remix at the Farm.

Remix has info ixon one of our long term enemy's. Whilst grant is probably going to alert us about some random criminal/gang cape activity.

>>6114914
>Arrange the meet with Ms Grant
She actually gave us a time and place, we can schedule something nonconflicting with Remix

Oh no I forgot to take the name off
I'll have to vote by phone for the rest of the thread

Rolled 2 (1d2)

looks like a bit of a tie, so I'm going to roll 1d2

1 is visit Remix
2 is meet with Ms Grant

Meeting with Ms Grant wins. Remix is going to have to take a rain check.

Writing it up

Me - Will do.

Ms Grant - 7PM. Big news.

All right. 7PM. I could do that, with my sword lesson with Baby Girl right after. To Remix I said:

Me - Can you send that info as a pdf?

Remix - And have you understand it? Hold on, let me get my English to Retard translator booted.

Okay, very funny. Ha. Ha. I made a plan to see her later. For now I had to get to school.

I got in late to Mr Sack running gym. It bought me a tardy slip which I shoved in my back pocket. He was in his best set of gym clothes to show his ageing, fattening body and the uncomfortable bulge in his too short gym shorts. Everyone else was running laps. Mr Sack preferred the fitness part of 'health and fitness', at least for handling his students. I don't think he had it in him to run a lap himself.

"Just because you're on the basketball team doesn't get you out of running laps," Mr Sack said, "Now get changed and get out there."

Roadwork. Fun.

I joined Ben and Annie huffing along at the back of the pack with the fat kid, Lorraine. I could have lapped everyone here without breaking a sweat, but that would ruin the point of a secret identity.

"Ballsack. Asshole," Annie puffed.

"Just. One more. Lap," Ben groaned.

Lorraine ran silent, sweat dripping down his chins, a look of misery in his every expression.

Leading the group was Hunter, but right behind him was Chad. his new build was putting in the work. I remembered last year he'd have been at an even pace with his friends and ready to puke by the time they were done. Now he looked like he might take the lead. Right behind them though was Ayesha, striding along with an intense focus.

I loved watching her run. The way her legs stretched out, the sun catching her skin and giving it a golden glow.

Watching her made me want to catch up, run along side her neck and neck.

But I kept my head down. It could wait.

By the time the laps were finished Ben looked ready to puke on his shoes and Annie was on the verge of passing out. Chad jogged over to us, fresh and smiling.

"Eric, hey man how's your dad?" Chad said, "You ran off yesterday. He's in the hospital?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, he's good. Nothing too serious." Best leave it at that.

Others came up soon after to express their concern. I felt like a big fucking jagoff for it.

"Anyone seen Zeke today?" Blair asked, drying the sweat off her neck.

A round of shrugs. It made me think of the text from Ms Grant. Ayesha caught my eye, motioned with her head.

We stepped aside. She gave me a quick, hard hug. "Ivy told me you went to see her," she kept her voice low, "Told me about your dad. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said, "Yeah, I'm okay."

"Good. And all the other stuff, with the sewers, it wasn't on the news," she said, "Should I tell Nasim her friend is safe? If you're planning something I don't want to risk blowing it."

>let her tell Nasim Ayane is safe
>better that stay a secret for noe, just in case

>>6115011
>better that stay a secret for noe, just in case

>>6115011
>better that stay a secret for noe, just in case

>>6115011
>I’ll tell Nasim myself, don’t want anything more linking you to Hotspur

>>6115011
>let her tell Nasim Ayane is safe

>>6115126
>>6115113
>>6115011
These both work don't tell her. I'll tell her later as hotspur. You can't be seen to have too strong a connection other than I saw your Twitter post...

>>6115372
>>6115126
>>6115113
>>6115045
these are tied but not exactly conflicting so I'll go with both

"I'll tell her," I said, "When the time is right. In costume. You just sit back." I kissed her cheek and she grinned.

We got through gym, and on the way out I overheard Blair and Tim talking.

"Did you hear Kaylee dropped out?" Blair said.

"Wasn't she at school yesterday?" Tim said.

"Yeah, that's how I found out, she came to tell me," Blair said, "Not just dropped out too, her dad kicked her out. Right out on the street. She said she's shacked up with her girlfriend on the south side now."

"Man, glad my parents aren't psycho bigots like hers," Tim said, "When I told my dad I was gay he just said 'hi Gay, I'm Dad'."

"What a cornball."

I'd known some of that, but didn't know Kaylee had full on fallen out of school. She'd wanted to talk to me yesterday, maybe that was why. But I'd had bigger problems to deal with, and still do.

"Rico!"

Howie came tromping up in his game kit, dressed as if we had a game tonight. He was a good kid, Howie, and tried to force a water bottle on me.

"Got to stay hydrated, Rico! Hydrated for the game!"

"Damn straight," I took a swig of the electrolyte infused water before handing it back. Howie then pounced on Tim to do the same.

"I'm really enjoying it here," Peony, Annie's cousin, said to a group of senior boys, a group of very interested senior boys, "Chicago's like, as cool as I expected. It's a big change from Duluth."

"Annie said you were from Hong Kong."

"Oh please, we lived there a year for Mom's job and go back to visit the grandparents some times, but I'm a Minnesota girl through and through. Vikings all the way!"

"Yeah, Eric's originally from Indiana, isn't he? He came in last year."

"Oh yeah?"

Nothing to do with me. I just had to get through the day, wondering what it was Ms Grant wanted to talk to me about, waiting to hear from Dusk about hunting for Flesh-smith, anticipating my first training session with Baby Girl. School seemed a little trivial next to all of that.

Turning the corner I bumped hard against Miss Flores. She dropped her coffee with an irritated 'shoot!' then, seeing it was me, backed up with a blush.

"Eric," she said, "You're here! That's good, that's great!" But she didn't say anything more than that, just glanced off to the side. My teacher, my soon to be step-mom, and the soon to be mother of my younger sibling. Yeah, I was kind of unsure what to say either.

>so say nothing and leave
>apologize for yelling last night

>>6115570
>apologize for yelling last night
Be a man and take some accountability.

>>6115570
>apologize for yelling last night.
Our outburst against flores was uncalled for, eric and his dad had been growing distant from each long before she entered the picture.

>>6115614
>>6115613
ok

"I'm sorry."

That was a good start.

"It really wasn't fair of me to yell at you last night. You've been nothing but good for Dad and cool with me too, despite everything we've put you through."

Her face softened into a smile. "Thank you, Eric, that means a lot," she said, "And I do understand how this can't be easy for you. Your life has been through a lot of changes over the last few years. Bad ones."

Good ones too, I thought.

"And I'm sorry, for slapping you," she said, "It's never okay to do something like that."

I forced a grin. "Don't worry, I've been hit harder."

She shook her head, amused despite herself.

Then she pursed her lips. "Can I admit something to you, Eric?"

"Sure."

"You're...a part of the reason I said yes," she said, "To both this, and other things. Dating your dad, moving in. You're a polite and well-mannered young man. Your parents raised a good kid, and I thought there must be something to your dad for you to have turned out so well despite all your difficulties. It convinced me to give him a shot. Well, that and his stupid good looks."

I was blushing a little. More than a little.

"He's sorry too, you know," she said, "For not trusting you, and for not telling you sooner. About all this."

There was a ring on her finger, and she put that hand to her (for now) flat belly.

And it made me remember, for a hot terrible second, that I hadn't worn a condom last night with Ivy. Oh fuck.

Miss Flores turned her head with a thoughtful frown. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah!" I said, fumbling for my phone to fire off a text. I knew I was going to have to wait for a reply, Ivy's school confiscated phones at the start of the day, so I'd be sitting in sweat until she got it back. Fuck me.

I hustled on to Chemistry with Mr Nfume. We filed in, taking our desks, getting out our screens. I sat between Ayesha and Chad.

Mr Nfume stood at the front of the class. He'd rolled down a projection screen, a grim look on his face.

"Gargantua is attacking city hall," he said.

Who?

He clicked a button and the screen flickered to life, live footage from a helicopter circling above the city center. Something giant moved down Adams Street, a giant red humanoid with a mouth as big as the school gates, all covered in lobster-like plates. He was about as tall as they second tier of Sears Tower, which he stomped past on his way too who fucking knew where or why.

And unfortunately he was clearly a 'he' because all of him was hanging out on display.

"Gargantua is attacking city hall," Mr Nfume said, "And that's the stupidest thing I've ever felt myself say. God we truly live in a stupid, stupid universe."

"Gargantua is making his way east," the reporter in the helicopter said, "We've received assurances from the mayor that the Protectors are inbound to handle the threat. The Fire Department is working with the Chicago PD to evacuate the buildings in the path of-"

"Since our universe is a terrible and stupid one, we're going to talk about why Gargantua shouldn't exist," Mr Nfume said, "Can anyone explain to me how this insult to physics violates the square-cube law?"

Hands shot up around me.

My skin prickled. Not for the question but for the sight of the monstrous giant stomping his way through traffic, crushing cars beneath his slow plodding trek down Adams Street. Who knew how many lives each step ruined.

"When an object undergoes a proportional increase in size, its new surface area is proportional to the square of the multiplier and its new volume is proportional to the cube of the multiplier," Ben said.

Mr Nfume clicked his fingers. "Straight off of wikipedia," he said, writing up the formula on the white board, "By all rights our friend Gargantua should collapse in on himself, why isn't that the case?"

"Maybe the carapace?" Chad suggested, "Those red scales look like they might act as some kind of exoskeleton. That might help support his weight."

"Maybe," Mr Nfume said with a tired sigh.

>I have to get out of here, I have to do something
>No, let this one slide. The Protectors could handle it

>>6115652
>No, let this one slide. The Protectors could handle it.
Mainly because this is their perfect photo op, they're gonna do their best to show off. They're full of shit but the result will be the same, they'll handle it well.

>>6115652
Maybe he isn't bigger the universe just got smaller

>No, let this one slide. The Protectors could handle it

If the duck it up then we can go

>>6115652
>Let this one slide
Public enough that the officials will take him down
Unlike flesh smith

>>6115652
>No, let this one slide. The Protectors could handle it
Pay attention to the fight, we can learn more about the protectors and be prepared to leave school and intervene if they can't handle it

>>6115652
>I have to get out of here, I have to do something.

How do we know the protectors will even win? They didn't seem like A-listers line up to me. What if Gargantua fights them off and flattens city hall and the urban area around it.

>>6115792
Idk City Hall sucks, let them foot the bill to the Protectors if it gets flattened

>>6115792
That one dude who hates us matched us blow for blow, if they can’t do it with their entire team there then we’d be hopeless

>>6116037
He didn't match us, we mostly avoided fighting him.

>>6116064
I dunno man reading that fight I felt pretty matched

>>6115748
>>6115731
>>6115726
>>6115653
locking that in

I couldn't dash off to fight a giant tearing through the heart of the city. I had to trust the Protectors knew their business enough to handle it. And if they didn't, then I'd race off to save the day.

Not that I knew how I'd handle a colossus like this Gargantua.

The helicopter crew kept on him, circling the crimson lobster scaled giant. Yellow eyes glared in a furrowed brow up at the copter overhead, but as big as he was he wasn't big enough to swipe it out of the sky. He stomped up to the side of Sears tower and dug a hand into its side. He started to climb.

"All right gang, he's climbing Willis Tower," Ironsight's voice came through, "We've got to stop him before he brings it down."

"Willis Tower?" Rufus sneered, a sentiment running through the class.

The tower shook against Gargantua's weight, but before he could raise his other hand the giant shook in place, suddenly restrained.

"I have him," the urbane voice of Gravitas said. The camera turned to show a dark pin prick in the blue sky. Gravitas levitated above the city in a black pinstripe suit, hands raised and wide forehead bulging with strain. "I cannot say for how long. Please, be quick about this!"

It seems the team was miced up for the show.

The largest eagle I'd ever seen swooped past him with a harsh cry, its wingspan flaring out as it dove for the face of the giant. When it struck, it bulged and writhed in a nauseating ripple of bone and muscle until it became the burly figure of Barbaric, gripping uncertainly to Gargantua's nose at a perilous height. But her body shifted again, twisting and writhing as muscle and bone was reorganized, her face stretching out into horror mask dimensions, bright orange fur exploding out across her back until she was the form of a hulking orangutan.

"Gigantopithecus, interesting," Chad muttered.

Barbaric began swinging massive fists into the giant's face, seeming to no avail. Gargantua's grip tightened on the surface of Sears Tower, cement beginning to crumble under his grip.

"Let's lay some more on him, team," Ironsight said, "Liberty, Haymaker, bring in the one-two."

They shout of the sky. It was an almost comic sight, Haymaker dangling from Liberty's petite grip as the girl flew in rocket fast, flinging the hulking ex-thug at the giant. He came in with a right cross hard enough the giant staggered back a step, but then Haymaker went sprawling, hollering in terror out into the sky. Fast as a dart though with a flare of her pleated skirts, Liberty swooped around and caught him, hurtling back up into the sky.

"Shit on me!" Haymaker swore into his mic, "This is a retarded fucking plan!"

"No need to cuss, I got you!" Liberty said, bringing him back around for another run.

"Where the fuck is Nightshade?" Haymaker said, "And when the fuck are you going to pitch in, Ironsight? I don't see you falling a thousand feet!"

"Steady there, convict, someone has to coordinate the team," Ironsight said, "And as for our little chickadee, just you wait."

"Please cease your bickering, my grip on the beast is beginning to wane!" Gravitas intoned. The camera followed him as he went from levitating mid-air to drift down onto the roof of a nearby building, hand extended to clutch at Gargantua with his gravity powers.

Barbaric, still in the form of a giant ape, pounded her fists on the giant's shoulders, but she may as well have been a middle schooler fighting a line backer for all it did to stop him from tearing a chunk out of the side of Sears Tower. Gargantua flung the ball of cement at the nearby rooftop, square at Gravitas. Liberty gasped, and the class room leaned forward, as Gravitas let go his grip on the giant to snatch the chunk of cement from the air only a few yards out from crushing him. He was alive, but now the giant began to climb.

"BRING ME!" Gargantua roared, "DAVID! ROSS!"

"Oh lord," Mr Nfume sighed, lighting up a cigarette.

"Sir, why are you smoking?" Ben asked.

Mr Nfume frowned. "Why? Because nothing makes sense and everything is stupid."

The giant tore chunks out of Sears Tower, exposing people still inside, screaming in terror as giant red fingers dug through cement and glass to rip up the exterior of the building.

Barbaric leapt from Gargantua's shoulders into the interior of the buildings, large ape hands raised to hustle the people inside back toward safety.

"Nightshade, are you in position?" Ironsight asked.

A moment of silent.

"Copy."

"Good. Okay kid, square up."

The camera swivelled to the top of Sears Tower. The very top. Nightshade stood at its peak in his urban ninja get up, wind ruffling the loose fabric of his pants. He crouched down, looking down.

"Ready."

"That's right. Now, time to cut down the giant. Go!"

Nightshade pounced. Hurtling downward, a human meteor. He struck the giant between the eyes with a white flash. Gargantua buckled, woozy on his feet. A small fist sized imprint glowed between his eyes. Nightshade drew back his fist and drove it down again. And again. And again. Each blow laid over the last until that fist sized imprint deepened and red ichor gushed out to pool up in it then run down over his face.

"That's right," Ironsight purred, "Keep it up."

The giant began to fall.

"Gravitas!" Ironsight barked, "Catch that thing before it crushes half the block!"

Even as it fell, Nightshade didn't let up, riding the falling giant, driving down punch after punch into his skull. And when Gargantua did fall, eased down by Gravitas, Nightshade didn't stop, the giant's blood splashed across his chest as he began to drive into the fruit of his brain.

"That's enough, Nightshade, the threat's contained. Nightshade I said stand down!" Ironsight barked.

"Brutal," Hunter said, agog at the sight playing out on the screen as Nightshade continued on, ignoring Ironsight's orders. Then a high pitched scream went up. It took us all a moment. It was coming from Nightshade, a high pitched primal scream over each downward blow.

"Cut the mics!" Ironsight barked, "And cut the camera! Goddamn it Nightshade, that's enough! I said stop! You stupid little-!"

And the screen cut to black.

>>6116164
That Nightshade is bad optics. Is there more to the update?

>>6116176

I wonder if Nightshade is empowered by the soul of the light wielding buddy of The Prince we saw in the vision and the reason he hates Hotsput is because of some fallout their previous lives had which he is seeing in his head.

Or they just showed him Hotspur while training/torturing him so he developed an intense hatred response.

Unless that high pitched scream was a sign its actually a lady under that outfit? I can't believe Bullpen has put another hot asian ninja into the equation, and yet I can.

Or if they got a bit of Hotspur DNA and tried to clone their own with some help. Alien help? Fleshsmith help? Villain team up when?

>>6116639
Does he hat us specifically? From the Gargantua show I feel like he might just hate everybody in his way

>>6116685
On the boat he seemed to have a hateboner for Hotsput. Maybe he wonders why the biggest hero in the city didn't rescue him from his captors who have been drugging and threatening to drug him into compliance.

Sorry, had a busy couple of days. hoping to knock out a few updates tonight.

Also I might be back working full time in game dev soon, so this quest might go on hiatus in the near future or at least slow down to single updates.

No one knew what to say about what we'd seen, but we were all a little disturbed by Nightshade's frenzy. Beating Gargantua to death at the foot of Sears Tower. The giant attack was all anyone had on their mind.

"Sucks for whoever has to clean that mess up," Rufus said, "I wonder who that guy was before he got turned into a big red lobster."

That was the question too.

"Whoever they were, man, someone has to do something about these freaks," Hunter said, "I know, I know, we aren't supposed to call them that. But six people died."

It was true, three crushed in a minibus when Gargantua had been knocked off his feet by the Protectors, two killed when they were trying to get away and got sideswiped by a truck, and one poor bastard who fell into the Chicago River and drowned.

"Seven, technically," Ayesha said, "Gargantua too."

"Sure, seven," Hunter said, "I get that most freaks are just ordinary people, and I'm not saying round them all up, but maybe they need to do like a census or something."

"Track and trace," Ben nodded, "Yeah, that makes sense."

"We're talking about human beings here," Chad said, "Should they keep a file on every Muslim in the country too, or every Russian?"

"Russians can't blow up a city block with their minds," Rufus said, kicking an empty soda can, "Man, we've had this conversation before."

"Because nothing gets done!" Annie said, "God, its all so revolting."

"What is?" Chad asked.

"Our lives! It's absurd! We live in a city under constant siege and the only answers are either 'do nothing' or go full Nazi. I'm sick of it! When do we get another choice?"

"What makes you think we even have any choices here?" Ben said, "We're all just stuck. The rich and powerful will do what they want and we just have to learn to live with it."

Everyone was angry. No one had any answers. Annie was right on one thing, it was absurd. Every time I put on my costume and stepped out to do something about the problems in our city, was I really achieving anything? I mean, really? It felt like every problem I solved only spawned three more, a goddamn hydra. I didn't say anything though, they didn't need another opinion to fester over. And for every Gargantua the hate got harder to fight.

Maybe she could see it in the tension in my shoulders, but Ayesha slipped her hand into mine, leaned on me a little. She didn't say anything just squeezed my hand in hers and rested her bushy black curls on my cheek, looking up at me with those warm brown eyes full of comfort. In a glance she said 'don't stop believing in love', and that helped. But not as much as it should.

School rang out.

I had to go meet with Ms Grant. I'd promised to tell Nasim her friend was safe, but as Hotspur, not as Eric. Then I had sword training with Baby Girl tonight.

>change into my costume and visit Nasim first
>change into my costume and see Ms Grant first

>>6117631
>change into my costume and see Ms Grant first

Iunno go visit Nasim's house afterwards. I must wonder how telling her is going to go.

>>6117631
>change into my costume and see Ms Grant first

>>6117631
>Grant first

>>6117766
>>6117769
>>6117974
ok

So many plates are spinning at once I worry I'm going to lose track of them and send one crashing to the ground.

I got home before Dad did. My phone pinged with a text.

Dad - Part of the crew cleaning up downtown. Talk when I get home.

Okay. I guess it was good his company had picked up work, even if it was cleaning up the destruction caused by a big red idiot. With a baby on the way he needed to take all the work he could get. We'd talk later. I'd make sure of it.

Changing into my costume, still missing the jacket, I made my way into the Magnificent Mile and the Water Tower where Ms Grant and I would meet. A little bit of Old Chicago, 150 years old and still standing tall, it had survived the Great Chicago Fire, the Great Depression, and the Chicago Cubs fans after they finally won a World Series. She was waiting in the shadow of the faux-medieval turrets, sunset turning the sky a bloody red wound. Wearing sun glasses and a pants suit, hands in her pockets, she leaned against the old stone work in a slouch.

Madeleine Grant, DSA, had started wearing a gun on her hip. A nickel plated revolver. She was the only person I knew who had as maybe as many enemies as I did, most of them the same terrifying people. Not far from us, chowing on a slice, waited Ironclad in his armor visor, gauntlets and greaves. That was also new, a super powered bodyguard bought and paid for. He kept his distance though, this wasn't his business.

"Spur," she said as I landed in front of her, a hand on her hip. Ms Grant had clean, light dark skin the color of an old oak table and dark relaxed hair that fell around her shoulders in soft waves. She was tall too, at least taller than me.

"Ms Grant," I said.

She lowered her shades to give me a once over.

"There a reason for the change of costume?" she asked, "That jacket wasn't cheap."

I had my mask and goggles on, but without my jacket I had no hood and the spider weave undershirt left my arms showing. After all the heat we'd had it was actually a bit of a relief getting around without it.

"Don't worry, I'm getting it back," I said, "Is that all you wanted to talk about, my choice in fashion? Don't you have news?"

She grinned, flicking her shades back up. "Oh we've got news," she said, "A friendly judge has done us both a big favor. He's agreed to sign off on a wiretap. The kid you brought in, Zeke? In exchange for immunity he's agreed to be our informant, get his friends at the Guardians on tape confessing to terrorist activity. We knock down this domino, the rest should fall."

"It goes pretty deep," I said, "The Governor is in on it some how. Maybe even Ixion. Who knows who else."

"Corruption is a Russian doll," she said, "When you open up one, you find another. The trick is to stay on it until you get to the last one."

I imagined Zeke wearing a wire. It was hard to imagine him keeping his nerve.

"I need you to keep an eye on our informant when he goes in," she said, "I don't trust the cops to run cover for him. Plenty of Humanity First members wear badges. I'm doing my best to keep Chicago PD in the dark all together, and fuck working with the FBI. We need to keep this close to our chest."

"Are you even allowed to do that?" I asked.

She shrugged. "We're running in gray zones here, Hotspur. Leave the legal arguments to me, just focus on making sure our boy doesn't get his head blown off. If you're up for it at least."

"When would that be?" I asked.

"A couple of days," she said, "Why, is there somewhere else you need to be?"

"My plate's been pretty full lately," I said.

"Yes or no, Spur, we can't afford to drag this out."

>You know you can count on me, Ms Grant
>I'm going to have to pass on this one

>>6118404
>You know you can count on me, Ms Grant
this could be big

>>6118404
>You know you can count on me, Ms Grant
Who would even be a good partner to tackle this with? If it blows up we have to drag Zeke out with one hand and fight through a bunch of armed terrorists with the other.

So if she has budget for super bodyguards and super bulletproof jackets, how long has it been since his last gift? How about a SpurMobile. Hotbike? A better jacket that he can hold the sides out for gliding after he jumps up high, maybe with wings. I'd take a Hotspur allowance account we can throw at the partner of the day, like giving Remix some funds to make cool stuff. This superhero stuff doesnt get any easier ya know. Some cash to throw at his soon to be baby sibling.

>>6118404

>You know you can count on me, Ms Grant
But ask some of Firewatch if they are free to help. I'm really sure Thunderchild would be very easy to convince to help with this. Plus I'm sure it'll be nice to catch up with the group and make sure that they're all okay.

>>6118402
Won't they be suspect him of something due to him coming back in failure, alive and late? He was supposed to bomb the protest and die in the explosion. Neither of those happened and now he's coming back after disappearing for a while?

>>6118404
>You know you can count on me, Ms Grant
And include Firewatch as well, this is important and they've got more time than normal. Usually we give hours to minutes' notice, not days.

>>6118404
>You know you can count on me
Humanity second

>>6118546
Oh shit, you are right

Sorry, I've been busy with the thing mentioned here: >>6116876
not to the point of a full blown hiatus but its currently taking up a lot of creative energy.

we're going to lock in these: >>6118558
>>6118546
>>6118505
>>6118505
>>6118434
>>6118406
and I'm going to write up the update.

>>6120381
I just hope you won't be taken from us, QM.........

"You can count on me, Ms Grant, but if you don't mind this sounds like a job that could use some more fire power," I said, "I want to bring in my friends in Firewatch. We took down the Council of Crime together, we'll do the same for the Humanity First Militia."

She nodded. "Makes sense, Ironclad will on call too. If you need to stop a bullet, it helps to have someone who can control metal."

Ironclad. I still got a bad vibe from that guy. Chowing down on his pizza slice like some kinda pizza...slice...enjoyer. I dunno, I don't like mercenaries. Which maybe made my next question a little hypocritical.

"I'm a bit strapped for cash right now," I said, "Maybe you could, uh, spot me some cash?" It wasn't for me, I told myself. Dad and Carmen were having a baby. Everyone needed to chip in with that.

Ms Grant got out her wallet and flicked out a couple hundred dollar bills. "Thought you were the 'volunteer' type," she said with a little smirk.

"This isn't a wage or nothing," I said, "You're just helping out a friend."

I stuffed the bills into my back pocket.

"What's the cover story for Zeke anyway? Last I checked our friend wasn't meant to survive his explosive adventure."

"Cold feet," Ms Grant said, "Which is true. Cover stories are best when they're as close to the truth as possible. He ditched the bomb in a post box and walked away. He's been laying low since he was scared what his superiors would do for failing to go through with the mission. Also true, up to a point."

I nodded. "What's to keep him from getting his head blown off?" I said, "Goodfellas style the second he steps into a backroom."

"Good fortune," Ms Grant said, "And you, which is better. The second you think he's going to get popped, you smash your way in there and get him out."

"Can do," I said with a little salute.

"I'll text you when, with the rendezvous," she said.

And that was it, the plan decided. Now I just had to wait for a call. To be honest it felt good to take another run at the anti-para militia. They'd been getting a bit too confident lately, ever since Governor Tuttle was sworn into office. If they got the mayor's office too, times were going to get tough for the freaks of Freak City. If Zeke could help put a stop to that, maybe I could forgive him.

Anyway, I fired a message off to the Firewatch group chat letting them all know, ask for a show off hands for volunteers. I got a thumbs up from Thunderchild and Grit, they were in. The others were busy.

Dog Brother - Baby sitting duties. woof woof.

He sent a photo of him and Ayane, eating burgers. Ayane still wore my jacket, but beneath it had on a pair of blue overalls with Layla on her lap, the dog trying to take a nip out of her burger. I saw the toe of a boot that I knew was Misfit's and a multicolored stocking that could only belong to Pratfall. Looks like they were getting along. That's good.

Ok. Git and Thunderchild were plenty of muscle.

With that sorted all I had left on my plate was my sword lesson with Baby Girl, all the way out at Palmisano Park, and not for hours yet.

>head there early, scope it out
>my belly was grumbling, I should eat first

>>6120442
I'll let you guys know if I do in advance, and do everything I can to either keep this going in some form or bring it back as soon as possible, but I really can't afford to let this opportunity slip

>>6120585
>my belly was grumbling, I should eat first

>>6120585
>eat food
Good for you on the job, best of luck

File: Goodfellas water.jpg (104 KB, 1271x720)

104 KB JPG

>>6120583
>my belly was grumbling, I should eat first

>>6120585
>but I really can't afford to let this opportunity slip
Best of luck then, Bull!! Hope the writer's block won't get on the way in this new opportunity you have

Btw, I'm interested. How do you get into those kinds of works? I like writing and some people say is good, and I would love to work in something close to what you do, but living in a Latin America really blurry a lot how to get into it. What should I do? Search for freelancer works? Write to the companies/devs? Is there a need for a portfolio and how can I make one for my works?

>>6120585
>head there early, scope it out

>>6120701
>I'm interested. How do you get into those kinds of works?
Some friends were making a game and I asked if they needed a writer. A few of them went to work at larger indie studios and put in a good word for me. Unfortunately that's all I can really say, I got lucky and then did the work. I wouldn't waste time cold calling a big company, look for little projects and put your hand up to help, hope they like your stuff and that they keep you on. Smaller is good too since they're a lot better about it being remote work, big studios always want you to move to a large expensive city like Vancouver or wherever.

Writers are always the last people wanted on a project and usually the first to be let go, though. Unless you have a good relationship with the producers writing for video games isn't stable work.

But start small. Everyone tries to get a AAA studio gig out the gate, but it doesn't work that way. Do janky little VNs and little 8-bit indie things for shit pay and if you keep at it and do good work, it can turn into a career.

>>6120698
>>6120683
>>6120660
locking that in

Before I got to my sword lesson, I really needed to eat.

A Chicago dog, or maybe two. On second thought, make it three. For all I horked them down it did give me a moment to reflect. I'd been handling the burn out and hunger from using my powers much better lately. Was my body adjusting, or was it something else? It still drained me, drawing my sword in particular left me as weak and starving as if I'd just learned my powers, but the bounce back was faster, the amount of energy I needed less and less.

Maybe it was something to do with growing attuned to the fire inside me. Discovering more of its source, and my role as an Ashavan. Not that I fully understood what that was. Some kind of mystical space knight? Sworn to fight evil, or as close to evil as I'd ever encountered.

A knight should know how to use a sword.

I ate my dogs sitting off the side of Lake Shore Plaza, looking out east over the lake at night. I thought about Zeke and a bomb in a mail box. Kind of a ridiculous story, but I hoped it stuck. I looked at the lake, tried not to think at all. It really was a pretty thing, our fresh water sea, lapping quietly at the shore. I could make out the lighthouse, a dot on the horizon with a light still going, guiding the lake freighters along the coast. There was so much to this city I don't think I'd ever know everything about it.

They say I'm from Indiana but I'd never felt comfortable there. Here, I felt comfortable. Here I felt at home. About the only thing I missed was the stars. Big city lights meant there wasn't much could be seen in the night sky other than the moon. A couple stars shone through, a few bright freckles on the night's dark face, but back where I'd grown up, on a clear night you could see the spiral arm of the Milky Way, pick out the constellations, watch Venus with a strong enough telescope.

Mom had taught me how. That was one of the cruel things about her cancer, the forced move to Chicago. They'd taken the stars from her.

I wonder how she'd feel if she knew what I knew now about the stars, and the dark between them.

I shivered despite the warmth. There were things that lived in the black of the night sky. Malicious, hungry things. Eaters of worlds, servants of the Druj. Dragons. Dragons of the deep dark black. Of the nothing. And they would be coming for us. For me.

I had to be ready.

Hunger sated and hours gone by, I got myself up and bounded out to meet my new sword teacher. Out to Palmisano Park.

There was a pond in the park, with a fishing platform on it. I landed i a tree nearby and a couple of hoods looking to deal saw me, popped up and said, "Fuckin' Hotspur, book!" before scrambling away.

Good. We could use the privacy. I waited on the deck overlooking the pond.

It wasn't long before the rev of a motorbike sounded down the street, headlights off. It turned a corner and came up the sidewalk.

Baby Girl all in white leathers, a couple of swords across her back, brought her bike to a stop.

Baby Girl pulled off her helmet, brushed back her platinum dyed hair.

"Yo," she said.

"Yo yourself," I said.

She pulled off the swords, threw one to me.

It was a wooden one, the kind you saw in old samurai movies.

"Bokken," she said, "You don't get to touch live steel until I can trust you not to cut yourself. Show me what you know."

I knew nothing. I took the sword in two hands and did my best Akira Kurosawa impression.

"Awful," she said, inspecting me. She slapped my lower back. "Chest out."

I puffed out my chest. "Like this?"

"'Like this, sensei,'" she said.

"Like this, sensei?" I said, a little annoyed. Whatever favor she was doing me, I didn't like calling a criminal 'sensei'.

"Better," she said, rubbing her chin.

Then she smirked, and swung her wooden sword at my head.
-
>roll 3 x 1d100 DC 85

>>6121176
Nat 100 incoming

Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>6121186
Man im fraudulent.

Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>6121176

need one more roll, feel free to roll again if you have already

Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>6121176
Im usually a passive reader on quests, so this may be my first roll ever. Good luck everyone.

>>6121325
>>6121194
>>6121188
fail

but that's expected

>>6121325
always happy to have a first time roller

Rolled 35 (1d100)

>>6121176
Ashavan spirit awaken and help me conquer this yellow fever

*thock*

To my surprise I blocked it.

Then suddenly, my legs were swept out from under me and I hit the deck, slapping down onto my back. Before I could do more than scramble she was on me, grappling me, had her legs twisted around me and jerked me into an arm bar. I could feel the strength in her legs through the tight white leather as she squeezed her thighs around my arm, pulling it back against her. Right up against her. Intimately.

I was as red from that as from the pressure in the grip.

"First lesson, Hotspur, the first attack is always a trap," she said.

"Thought this was a sword lesson, not jiu jutsu," I groaned as I tapped out on her thigh.

"Mmm," she grinned as she let me go, let me up, "Kenjutsu, jiu jitsu, judo. They're all one and the same. Don't get caught up in the kendo nonsense of shouting 'kiai!' where two idiots hit each other in the head."

I picked up my sword.

Then her wooden sword was a blur, striking me first on the wrist, which made me drop the sword, then sharp across the chest.

"And you call me 'sensei'," she said as I shook out my wrist.

"Yes, sensei," I said. I got my sword again. Took up my stance. Held it as she inspected me. Circled me.

"There's a reason you want to learn the sword," she said, "You need to learn it quickly, or feel you do. I've always known you as a boxer. An amateur boxer, an amateur with some real skill, but still an amateur. Enough for dealing with crooks and costumed buffoons. But this is something different."

When she stood in front of me again she squared off. "The blade takes a lifetime to master, and I'm far from a master myself, but you have the heavy shoulders of destiny. I'll teach you what I can, prepare you for the destiny you face. Whatever problems we've had before, whatever loyalty to my Sullivan and his gang, I feel, no I know, this is more important. Perhaps the most important thing I may ever do."

It wasn't what I expected from the outlaw biker, but then she was more than just Sullivan's squeeze. She looked at me with eyes that seemed to see past my mask. That seemed to catch some hint of the fire inside.

"Okāsan, watashi ga gimu kara nigeta no wa kono tamedesu ka?"

it was a question asked to the thin air that I couldn't understand.

"If so, then show me, Hotspur," she said, "Attack me with all that you have, and we will see what you have to learn, and what I have to teach."

>strike her with the bokken
>with all I have? draw my sword of fire

>>6121408
>>with all I have? draw my sword of fire
She's right
This is too important to half ass

>>6121408
>with all I have? draw my sword of fire

>>6121408
>with all I have? draw my sword of fire

>>6121408
>strike her with the bokken
We haven't even tried with real steel yet, the fire sword is a bit much

>>6121408
>with all I have? draw my sword of fire
She wants us to go all out

She wanted to see all that I got?

Well okay.

I threw aside my bokken and reached out a clutched hand. Scowling behind my mask as I called forth the sword, the fire flaring awake inside me, rushing through me to my palm. Black spots danced around my fingers and then, the sword erupted to life, a blade of white fire crackling in my fist.

The heat of it came off in waves, hot and warming as a camp fire.

She raised an eyebrow. "Interesting," she said, tapping her bokken against the boards of the deck. She spread her arms wide, twisting the sword around before raising it above her head in both hands.

"Strike me then, if you can."
-
>roll 3 x 1d100+20 DC 85

Rolled 47 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>6121933
Wacha

Rolled 36 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>6121933
Nat 100 get.

Rolled 8 + 20 (1d100 + 20)

>>6121933

failed again!

>>6121943
if that had been another 1, oh boy things would have gotten interesting

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>6121945
Gimme another chance boss I can hit that nat1

I didn't want to hurt her.

But.

There was something in the way she said it, something in her mean smirk, that told me she thought I couldn't do it.

And I really, really wanted to prove her wrong.

I took my sword in both hands, and charging for her, swung.

She dipped back, and rattled my skull with a *bock* of her bokken off the dome of my skull. I swiped and she circled the flash of the blade with an amused scoff. The blow hadn't been hard but it left my brain a little fuzzy, and I turned to track her circling me. Like a leopard she circled me, each step languid, all of her relaxed, but her eyes focused on me.

Dammit. I drove at her again, slicing. A twist of her hips was all it took to keep her out of danger, and she bocked the wooden sword against the inside of my knee, tripping me up.

"Try again, little bull," she said, "It might work this time."

Growling behind my mask, I flung myself at her. There was rarely a problem I couldn't solve just by hitting it hard enough.

But its not as if she was fast in how she avoided me, if anything she seemed unhurried. A step, a tilt of her body, missing her by inches but missing her all the same.

"Powerful," she said, "But that's expected. Direct. Have you ever thought about not going direct at a problem?"

I huffed, more out of breath than she was. Shook my head. "Not really."

"Hmm, qualities to admire in a man," she said with an amused grin.

"Are you going to teach me, Sensei, or just talk?" I snapped, sweat pouring down my face.

I let loose a flurry of cuts, driving her back. She grinned as she ducked and weaved around them, then brought me up short when the tip of her bokken touched me on the chest. Sweat dripped down her cheek.

"Pay attention, and the lesson will reveal itself," she said. Then reaching up, zipped down her white motorcycle jacket. Beneath it she wore only a black leather bikini top.

She let the jacket drop down behind her on the deck. She ran her fingers over her sweat glazed her shoulders, down the dappled slopes of her breasts. If this was meant to be distracting, it was. I blushed beneath my mask, swallowing hard.

"The heat of your sword, its a little much," she said. She lowered the tip of her sword. "I've seen enough, little bull. Now if you truly want to learn, put the sword away and pick up your bokken."

>let the sword fade and start the proper lesson
>no, not until I at least land a hit on her!

>>6121959
>let the sword fade and start the proper lesson

>>6121959
>let the sword fade and start the proper lesson
If we wanna land a hit let's not do it with the hand remover

>>6121959
>let the sword fade and start the proper lesson

>>6121959
>Write In
Keep the light sword and then pick up the bokken in the other hand

>>6121982
>>6122020
>>6122068
writing it up

I let the sword die in my hand, and picked up the bokken.

"Good," she said, "Now take an even stance. That's good! Attacking is the easy part, defending is the trick. Now, do as I do."

She took me through the sword forms. After months of boxing training and BJJ, the monotony of sword drills was no different. It's the part no one liked to admit, most training was pretty boring. Repeating the same thing over and over until you had it down pat, then stress testing it in sparring. Everyone wanted to spar, no one wanted to train.

Basketball too. Most people didn't want to do the work.

That's where discipline came in. If I'd learned one thing since becoming Hotspur, it was discipline. Turned out when it was the difference between life and death, it made the boring parts easier to stomach.

Anyway, we kept at it for an hour, my sensei strutting around me, checking my form. Sometimes grabbing me to make sure it was right.

"Wouldn't want that head of yours chopped off, would we?" she said.

Considering the trouble I'd made for her boyfriend and their gang, I'm not sure if she was being sarcastic or not.

By the time we were done I was tired, but my sensei seemed pleased, her bokken resting behind her shoulders.

"There's only so much I can teach you alone," she said, "And I find its best beginners learn in pairs. I learned the sword alongside my brother, we honed our skills against each other. Steel sharpens steel. Next lesson, bring a training partner and your lessons can truly begin."

A training partner? I had no idea who to even ask. But she was deadly serious on the subject.

"You'll learn faster with someone to set yourself against," she said, "Choose wisely."
-
>write in a training partner for Hotspur

>>6122485
Thunderchild

>>6122485
>write in a training partner for Hotspur: The Salamander

Maybe we can rope in the Salamander, her pyrokinesis abilities might let us use our sword of fire without risk of a sparing fatality.

She once challenged us to a fight just for fun, so imagine she would be willing to spar sword fighting against us.

>>6122485

Some interesting choices here. I think Misfit could benefit from a bit of swordsmanship, maybe replace the pipe with a sword.

The Red Wizard/James Green since it might be good to spend more time with him, maybe he can help draw out the sword and memories and other swordfu meditation stuff. Maybe Eric could learn a few things about magic that he could incorporate into it. James could also do with some exercise.

Baby Girl did help rescue Thunderchild with Eric so that is a pretty solid little continuation. Plus *teleports behind and stabs you* is very anime.

Salamander being a seven foot tall fire chick does sound pretty hot.

>>6122485
>>6122519
+1
I miss the giant beast

>>6122544
>>6122519
I'm not saying 'no' but I'm just pointing out you'll be upskilling a violent sociopathic Mafia capo if you pick her

>>6122519
yeah sorry this is such a bad idea. just because she had some kind of a code doesn't mean she isn't a villain

>>6122555
You're right, you didn't say no

>>6122560
Baby doll herself is a villain, being a killer for hire. Frankly we have gained stronger enemies to worry about than the mafia. (If anything the mafia might prevent the Haitian from taking over the Chicago underground.)

Our main long term threat's are the Druj, Ixon corp, and Black site parahuman experimenters like Dr McMichael.

>>6122609
We could also gain an actual ally with sword training to help us deal with those threats with instead of an enemy who's gonna use the sword to do a bunch of sadistic shit

>>6122609
And now Eric is openly working with the Outfit? I'm struggling to see how inviting Salamander would be justified in-character

>>6122643
He finds tall women (Ivy), and killer women (Priscilla Takanawa) unspeakably attractive. The more tragic the better. I jest, but I wouldnt be surprised if he had some hots for her. Any chance Salamander is asian too?

>>6122652
>Any chance Salamander is asian too?
Italian, 100%

leaving this vote open for longer because its a potentially very important one and I want every timezone to get a chance to weigh in on it

>>6122657
Gods grace a seven foot italian mob woman with fire powers. The passion within would surely shatter Hotspurs hips if he didn't have some regeneration and strength. I vote Thunderchild, for now.

Would be fun to invite Priscilla Takanawa and see if Baby Girl tries to kill her for being a weird super powered ninja tho.

>>6122485
>write in a training partner for Hotspur
I'm between Misfit and Priscilla honestly, but I feel the last one is just going to try and kill Baby Girl, after all, we already know she hunts criminals so yeah

I'm doubting on Thunderchild, because on one hand I don't feel (or remember if) we spent time with him or got to know him, and plus him following the Magneto equivalent, is just going to fuck us over when we eventually clash again, and he will be an even stronger and highly dangerous weapon for the guy

IDK, maybe there could be another hero friend that we could get... What about Pratfall?!?!?! THINK ABOUT IT, her power is taking the kinetic force of punches that she receives and launch it back. She could be tanking hits, slashing the enemy, and when she wants to end the fight, just putting the equivalent of a truck going at full speed behind her sword and have an awesome anime like scene with the enemy cut in half and a powerful wind blowing before there's just a huge splash of blood everywhere

I've also been thinking of inviting one of our girlfriends, but this is just mixing our hero lives leagues over what we should do, and we've already crossed that point with them and a bunch of people knowing what we do

>>6122485
>Misfit

>>6122661
>>6122485
Changing from thunder to
>Misfit

>>6122485
I can't really think of any really less known but better fitting than Misfit as a sparring partner. She's the only ally of Hotspur that I actually remember using a melee weapon, everyone else either uses powers or doesn't fight at all.

>Salamander
We can actually train our fire sword on salamander we cant do that with other people.

>>6122485
>Misfit
She's our ride or die
Whoever's voting for Salamander needs to do some serious self-reflection

>>6122485

>Misfit

Thunderchild was an interesting choice (so was Salamander), but it looks like most people would rather go with someone more familiar.

Misfit it is!

Sorry I've been sick today and finding the energy to write just isn't happening

I'll have the update tomorrow

>>6123355
Get well soon qm, it's hard to get energy or motivation when your feeling under the weather.

>>6123258
I did want to throw around any accusations. Normally you only have 3~5 voters every vote.

This time you have 8, and of the 4 people who voted for misfit only ONE wasn't a 1pbtid.

>>6123041
>>6123037
>>6122804
These votes are likely filthy dirty disgusting RIGGERS.

I feel that you should either roll a 1d3 between thunderchild ,Salamander and Misfit or exclude the 1 posts from this count.

>>6122911
This is me voting for Misfit so even discounting 1 post IDs, the vote would be tied between Misfit and Salamander and I doubt the latter would win.

>>6123594
So I disagree with leaving it to a roll.

I didn't wanted to comment on it but honestly those who voted for Salamander are thinking with their dicks, because there's no valid reason for Eric to tell her to train.

Like what are you going to do? Try to reform her because we're sparring partners? She's just going to be blasting fire slashes with her sword and no doubt get happy to find another way to kill people with some bullshit ninja training, and that if we're getting only normal ninja training and not that weird ninja stuff that her clan trained her.

Like, it's a really, REALLY retarded option

>>6123594
There's not usually such idiotic votes gaining traction and motivating lurkers to vote against it.

>>6123613
>>6123595
Any person who isn't a boomer can easily change his ip address and then post twice with it. If your a single issue bandwagon voter who shows up near the end of a vote. For that specific vote only, your indistinguishable from a 1pbtid same fag.

>>6123562
>Get well soon qm, it's hard to get energy or motivation when your feeling under the weather.
thanks, this chest infection is pretty bad. I don't know when the next update would be.

>>6123594
I don't really appreciate accusations of samefagging, and the voting window for this option was also much longer than usual because I wanted as many people as possible to have their say.

>>6123612
The appearance of the Druj changes a lot of priorities
Whatever her flaws (and I don’t remember wanton murder being one, she spared us at least once after kicking our ass), she lives on earth and will not want it destroyed like the other billions the Druj got to.

>>6124261
True, but I doubt just telling her "Yeah there's this space void demon dragon who corrupt people and wanna destroy our planet" is going to sway her, and those Druj agents just work for him because they're deceived and doesn't know it's objective until is upon them (Or that's my guest, because there's not really that explanation on why the Axiom guy sees normal that he's creating literal flesh demons. My guest is that he's just some prideful mf with money who can pull of all this just with that, and wanna be remembered as some hero for humanity)

>>6124303
Convince her of what? She’s already not a friend to the Druj or anyone aligned with them

>>6124638
Not that anon, but I'd suppose convince her that Hotspur isn't insane when he tells her about the voices of a space prince and princess in his head want him to save the world from evil. The super community isn't exactly a bastion of mental stability one way or the other.

Then if she does believe him what exactly is supposed to be done? Eric knows nothing about the actual tasks that will allow him to hunt the druj or expose them. There won't be any change to her behavior without actual directions.

Does this revelation change how she would interact with people? She still wants to make a lucrative living and have the power of organized crime. Infact she can justify that having the power of organized crime would make it easier to kill Druj if they can go around masquerading as people or just to find places where bad shit happens while conveniently expanding turf.

>>6124638
I'm >>6124303 and >>6124649 is pretty much right about what I was trying to say. Is the same reason why I was doubting about calling Thunderchild to train with us, because we haven't spend that much time to know him to fully trust someone who could be not only an enemy but a real rival for us in the future.

The only reason Salamander didn't killed us on the first thread was because Luis was there with a Shotgun, and we haven't got another 1v1 against her again (If I remember correctly, the last one we fought against her was in the sting against all the crime lords). If we had some other opportunities where we had to either fight or cooperate with her, I would vote for her too, but we havent. She's not like Foxtrot (idk if that's how you write her name) which Eric met more than a couple of times, and not only that, was a valuable ally on our infiltration in the Humanity First kids camp, one which if we're lucky, she's going to give us some of the pictures and evidences that she got on her spy mission that we could use with Ms Grant. If we, for random chance, meet again with Salamander I'm sure she's going to tear our head off unless she's desperate for some control and wanna strike a deal with us and take power off of the Haitian in our area, but i'm just spitballing with a lot of "what ifs"

>>6124649
>>6124819
Maybe as distasteful as Salamander’s criminal ways are, they are nigh infinitely preferable to the Druj killing everyone we love. And everyone we like. And everyone we know. And everyone, period.

I bowed to my sensei and thanked her for the lesson, then thought about her question for the long trip home.

A few names sprang to mind. I considered Thunderchild. The two of us had butted heads in the past but he was a hero through and through. Still though, I didn't quite vibe with it. Even Salamander popped into my head. If I wanted a rival that could really push me, the seven foot Italian mafioso was more than formidable enough.

But then my thoughts turned to who I could really trust, and there really was only one choice.

Misfit.

We'd been through hell together, there was no one I trusted more, and if I had to be honest she was pretty much my best friend. If there was one person I'd be honored to learn beside, who would really drive me to train harder, it was her. She was rough and tumble but had a good heart, and might benefit from the discipline of some serious training.

It had to be her. And when the Druj came I knew she'd be one of the few who'd be standing beside me ready to face them.

I was getting home late. Like, late-late, and it occurred to me my life was getting way too full for everything I needed to do.

I needed to make some sacrifices if I was going to achieve everything I needed to achieve. There was no question about dropping out of school, that wasn't going to happen, but I needed to drop one of my extra-curricular activities if I wanted to find enough hours in the week to live a life.

>drop basketball
>drop boxing
>drop BJJ

>>6124900
>drop BJJ
Oof

>>6124900
>drop basketball

>>6124900
>drop BJJ
The other two are just too central to Eric.

On the one hand giving up on BJJ so he can have basketball and perhaps get a sports scholarship one day. On the other hand basketball isn't really helping with fighting is it.

>>6124900
>drop BJJ

>>6124900
>drop BJJ
If we use a sword and our fists, we're gonna pivot to a slugger type of move set which BJJ... isn't helping with. Besides, grappling is only useful against one person that is humanoid and both criterias are getting less and less likely as time goes by.

>>6125007
We can't risk losing our humanity by dropping everything that makes us who we are. Basketball stays.

>>6125757
>Basketball is humanity
How did all these NBA stock receipts get in your pocket anon?

The QM curse gets worse

Just as I was getting ready to run the other day I received news a close family member has melanoma and it spread to his brain. He has at most three months to live, probably a lot less

I'll try to run over the next few days but this news has rocked my family pretty badly

>>6127799
Damn that sucks Bullpen, do what you can.

>>6127799
It's alright, take all the time you need.
Personal stuff is way more important than a random quest on the internet, there's only one of you.
We'll wait patiently in the meantime.

No way in hell was I quitting basketball. BJJ would have to go. It's not like everyone I fought even had limbs.

I got in late. Real late, but Dad was still up, tv on clicking through the stations. He gave a grunt as I got into the kitchen, getting up.

"Do I want to know where you've been?" he asked.

I put a hundred bucks on the table. "Probably not," I said, "This is to help out. With the kid."

We looked at each other for a second. This was a conversation we needed to have.

"Sorry," I said, "Sorry for losing my shit the other day."

Dad frowned, rubbed his face. "I appreciate it," he said, "But its not easy, you know. Being your dad."

"Yeah, I know," I said.

"That giant your superhero pals killed?" he said, "I was part of the construction crew on that. Cleaning up the damage. It'll be weeks of work."

"They aren't my pals," I said.

"Not really my point, Eric," he said, "And its not the damage its...you've heard me say this before, but one day it could be you laid out on the cement or buried under the rubble. Am I the guy going to have to pull out your body?"

"I get it," I said, "I don't need the guilt trip."

"That's not-" he cut off with a sigh of frustration, "I'm not trying to guilt trip you. It's just, how am I supposed to parent a kid who can bench press a truck? I can't ground you, I can't send you to your room, and I can't blame you for trying to do some good in the world. All I can do is sit and home and worry. It's not easy, is all."

"Yeah, I know."

"You don't though, maybe you can't. Not with all you can do. You're not..."

"Human?" I said, maybe with too much bite.

"Normal," he said.

There was that distance again. I'd apologized but there was still that distance.

"We keep having this conversation," he said, "This argument. And it's not going to stop until I give up acting like you're normal. Like you're still my little boy."

The lump in my throat. I wasn't expecting it.

"You're a man now, son," he said, "With all that you've done, all that you're going to do. It's time I treated you like a man."

He held out his hand, waiting for a handshake.

But I stared at that hand, knowing if I shook it something would change forever between us. I could see it in the hard way he tried to hide his nervousness. If I shook that hand, he was letting me go. Not out of his life. But still letting me go. Out from under him. Out to make my own life. To own my own mistakes.

And maybe to make more space in his heart for the new life he was building. My Dad, but not my father. Not the same way anymore.

>Can't I still be your kid?
>Shake his hand

dammit I really wanted the Flesh-Smith encounter to coincide with Halloween.

>>6132717
>Hug your Dad
Maybe because I grew up in a certain kind of family, where despite everything, your parents were there for you always.
Granted, no one is a super hero doing dangerous shit.
>Then shake his hand
No amount of heart to hearts will change minds, it seems.

>>6132722
This

>>6132722
Double this

Also what the hell is up with this new posting system 4chan now has!

Also Bullpen, we totally get getting slammed with hard news like that and if you ever need to take a longer break just give everyone a heads up.

>>6132717
>>6132722
This and a "You're still my dad" in there somewhere.

>>6132928
>Also what the hell is up with this new posting system 4chan now has!
Yeah it's shite. Maybe it's justified for other boards but on /qst/ it's just ridiculous.

>>6132717
>Shake his hand
Not fair to ask to stay a kid with the way we act and the things we do
I can support adding a hug though

>>6132717
>Support the Hug and Shake.
Keep hanging in there Bullpen

Man it sure would suck if after making room in his heart for his new wife and his new child if they were to be swept up in a terrible flesh smith related tragedy...

So Eric's dad isn't a violent man I take it, so no father son vigilante action by putting him in a Remix battlesuit plan. I mean if he was willing theres not a majority of...The Gifted? That can take a bunch of bullets to the head. Ahura Mazda Fire People would probably sound cooler in ancient persian or something. There should be a diaspora of middle eastern people in the city so maybe Atar-ites or something could get around. Go full ham Mr Riordan and call them Demigods lol

Got off topic, but if he really wanted to do some kind of nonviolent work that contributes to Eric's safety I mean there is government work like Ms Grant. Idk maybe he has a college degree in a few things, or architecture and engineering. Help design a super prison underwater lol.

>>6134243
>of...The Gifted?
The term is parafriends

>>6134293
You've just made a Parafoe for life

>>6134302
:(
I just wanted to rebrand them in a positive light

okay, writing an update

sorry for all this. its been a hell of a month

I looked at his hand a moment. Then ignoring it, rushed in to hug him. Wrapped my arms around him, pressed my head into his chest.

He hugged me back, hard and committed. All the bullshit was gone. And there was some wetness my cheeks, same as his. And my breathing was tight as I tried not to let go. But I had to. We both did.

When the hug was over I was rubbing at my eyes. Trying to dab out the mist.

Dad gave me his hand again, smiling beneath his tears. "I'm looking forward to it, son," he said, voice thick in his throat, "Seeing the kind of man you're going to become."

I took that hand. Dad's hands were strong and rough, from years of working labor jobs. The kind of jobs kept him out in the sun, out in all kinds of weather. Breaking his body to build a home for me. To take care of Mom when she'd been sick. Keep a roof over our heads, breaking his body to do it. He'd slipped up after she'd died, fell into a deep hole, but he'd found his way back.

If I could be half the man he was...

I dabbed at my eyes again.

"You'll be a good one," he said, "I'm certain of it."

"Thanks, thank you," I said through a voice mushed up with tears, "Thank you, Dad."

And that was it. When he let go of my hand, he'd let the boy go, and maybe I did too. He'd always be my dad, I'd always be his son. But the boy had to go. With everything in front of me, the boy had to go.

Then when he clapped me on the shoulder he said, "A man needs his rest."

There was no arguing with that. It was pretty much morning.

"Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, Son."

Bed then, sleep and a new day tomorrow.

Whatever it would bring, I'd face it as a man.

Coffee started the day. I was exhausted from bouncing so late at night, after a pretty bruising day overall. Coffee didn't do much but curdle my tongue. Maybe I'm not a coffee drinker.

My phone pinged. Ayesha was downstairs.

Ayesha - Thought I'd drive you to school today.

I grinned. Finished my breakfast.

When I bounded downstairs I found her waiting. The temperature had cooled enough she was back to wearing sweater vests and pleated skirts, the real preppy look. She'd cut her hair, short and curly, and it slowed me up a second with the rush that jumped through me. Fuck.

"Hey, hero," she said.

"Hey yourself," I said, and had her by the waist and in a kiss before she could say a word. Her soft lips part for the slip of her tongue and it was both tender and needful that spiked up that rush into something mind boiling and I got to admit, the thought of going to school was the last thing on my mind as I slid my hand down over the pleats of her skirt, pushing her back against the car door.

When my hands got to heavy she pushed me back with a crinkled face black girl blush. "Easy tiger," she said.

"Sorry."

She smelled too damn good. Tasted too damn good. She smiled too damn good as she got into the car.

There was nothing like driving to school with a girl I loved.

"I've been looking into this Waingro Foundation group for you," she said.

Interesting.

"There's not much to them, far as I can tell. An investment group with money all over the place."

"Investing in anti-para groups though, that's a weird investment," I said.

She nodded. "Weapons, minerals, agriculture, and yeah, a funny little Illinois terrorist network. Haven't quite squared the circle here. And it took a lot to dig it up, they're pretty quiet. No investors I can figure out. Just a name with money behind it."

"You think they're connected to Ixion?"

She shrugged. "I wouldn't be shocked if they owned some Ixion stock," she said, "Those financial markets, everyone is tied up with everyone else, all over the world. It's a real king rat kind of situation. It'd take a proper expert to untangle it."

I'd like to say I was listening closely, but my attention was more on the slight gap of skin showing between Ayesha's skirt and her tall home knit stockings. "Finances, yeah," I said, sliding my hand on that patch of dark skin, hearing her excited indrawn breath. She kept her eyes straight ahead, hands on ten and two, as my hand slid up. Made her gulp for where my hand went.

"You really want me to crash this car?" she said, grinning despite herself. I didn't stop. So then she pulled over. There was time. I wasn't feeling so tired anymore. We put my back my seat and she climbed on top of me.

And that was how we started the morning, hoping no one saw and too excited, too stupid, to actually care.

We got in to school with Ayesha's cheeks glowing.

And I got a text.

On my other phone.

Dusk - Found him.

Fuck.

"What's wrong?" Ayesha asked as we went in.

Visions of the Flesh-Smith rose in my mind. Everything I'd seen in his dungeon. Everything I'd seen him do.

Another text.

Dusk - Tonight. Be ready.

The monster's lair. Tonight. Going into it once had been enough. Going again? But I had to go. He had to be put down.

I looked to Ayesha. Said nothing but stared. Then kissed her again.

>spend the day like its a normal day, savor the normalcy
>school could wait, I had to gather allies and get ready

>>6139139
>school could wait, I had to gather allies and get ready

>>6139139
>>school could wait, I had to gather allies and get ready
This bastard needs to get got ASAP
He's a walking talking crime against humanity

>>6139139
>spend the day like its a normal day, savor the normalcy
We can fire off a few texts and still attend

>>6139139
>spend the day like its a normal day, savor the normalcy

Need to not neglect humanity

>>6139139
Ideally I'd suppose a stealthy approach for an assassination so he can't just have all his horrible creations zerg rush them and get away. Then someone who is also good at crowd control.

So what would be the kill team if people did skip to gather allies? I don't imagine he'd want to bring any Firewatch to a mission that is gonna kill someone. Shark Boy perhaps if he can sneak (and lava girl lel) plus whoever else would be handy.

The thief girl who can turn into stone might be just right, if shes in rock-mode maybe the Flesh Smith can't use his powers on her as a bonus. The sexy asian lady he is learning swordsmanship from, if the tension with Dusk the criminal killer isn't too bothersome. Who would people actually want to bring that is well suited?

>>6139139
>spend the day like its a normal day, savor the normalcy
We can't really call Firewatch for this and I wouldn't trust any other superhumans with this either. Stay in school mainly because we can't do anything, maybe she can though.

Who was the Firewatch member with earth powers and didn't mind a bodycount? He might be a pretty good pick if people do feel they need another member. Might be fine with just Dusk and Eric tho, less people to try and sneak in and Dusk probably doesnt want anyone else learning her identity lol.

>>6139710
Grit

Rolled 1 (1d2)

looking like a tie so I'll flip a coin

1 is spend the day like normal
2 is prep for the Flesh-Smith hunt

Our kiss breaking, Ayesha drew back, her eyebrows knotted in concern.

"What's wrong?" Ayesha asked.

"Nothing," I said, "Nothing at all."

Then taking her hand we walked together into the school, side-by-side.

It was a weird day. I did my best to treat it like normal. Going from home room to chemistry, handing in my English homework, picking up a social studies assignment. Struggled through Math. It didn't help how tired I was.

By recess I was happy for the pick up game of basketball.

"You can't have Eric and Hunter on the same team," Tim told Rufus when they were splitting us up, "That's just smashing the 'I win' button."

"Just defend better, nigga," Rufus said, then picked Hunter, Tim picking me right after. We looped in Chad and Rufus snapped up Jessica for some three on three for the outdoor court. Wasn't long before we drew a crowd. Chad was sitting with Peony, pointing us each out. Ayesha sat with Blair and Howie, Howie watching excitedly in his team shirt.

It was hard not to notice it. The people missing. Dane and Kaylee, Zeke.

And Daphne.

No more. I wasn't going to let any more faces disappear from that crowd.

"Cover Rufus," Tim barked, jogging back to guard the hoop and bringing me back to the game. I was on it, squaring off with my team mate.

Rufus sucked in his cheek, telling me he was taking this pick up game serious. Pacing me, ball in hand, trying to fake me out.

"So what's it like having two girlfriends?" he said, "Sounds like a goddamn nightmare to me. All that talking."

"You talk more 'en both of them together," I said, "You going to make a play?"

"Make a play for your mother," he said, then winced, "Step-mother, I mean. You know, Miss Flores, not-"

I laughed. "Fucking play ball, jagoff!" then went for a steal.
-
>roll 3 x 1d100+10 dc 60

>>6140388
>Chad was sitting with
two chads

sorry meant to say Ben

Rolled 17 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>6140388

Rolled 62 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>6140388
inb4 nat1

Rolled 13 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>6140388
Inb4 nat 1

>>6140402
pass!

"Okay, let's play!" he said, taking a side step.

My palm slapped the ball from his hand with a steal and I was off, Chad running up beside me. Jessica, one of the tallest girls at the school, loomed in front of me as Hunter came at me from the side, trying to box me out, keep me from getting the lay up.

Problem for them was, I'd been working on my shooting. And despite what the NBA said, it wasn't all about height. I took a step back, popped up and shot.

Nothing but net.

"Pretty good," Hunter said, "but you're a foot too short to ever go pro."

"Don't need to go pro to smoke your ass," I said.

"Man, you know Eric got to stay fit," Tim said, "He's been getting that extra cardio in, if you know what I'm saying."

We went again, and again. Best of six becoming best of thirteen becoming first to fifty. We wasted the whole recess shooting hoops and talking shit. Even Chad got a basket on a rebound. When we were done and the bell was calling us to class, we were all huffing, laughing, forgetting about all the dread in our lives for five seconds. Our friends who'd been watching gave us props and for a second I felt like a normal kid.

Ayesha put her arm around me as I mopped up the sweat. Too hot for October, but I barely remembered when Octobers were cold. Took a drink.

Her smile said 'you looked good out there', and her touch to my arm said 'don't forget it'. I put my arm around her waist, not caring if some teachers had a problem with it, and kissed the coils of her hair.

Let the nightmares wait for night time. Right now the day was for living, and I was going to grab hold onto every second of it I could.

"This is a real basketball heavy school, huh?" Peony said to Ben, watching us come in.

"Yeah, but that's because our football team sucks and our hockey team is worse," Ben said, "And don't get me started on the soccer team!"

Peony laughed. "Do you actually care about sports?"

"Hell no, but Hunter is my pal so I show up," he said with a grin, "You like football, yeah?"

"Not really. I mean, I'd like to, but my family doesn't really do sports. My mom and dad are massive nerds. They paint DnD minis for fun. They never really had time to take me to a ball game or whatever."

"Hey, you know its always worth trying new things," Ben said, "Maybe we could go to a game. You know, all of us. Um..."

He was getting flustered. Poor Ben trying to shoot his shot and struggling to get up the nerve.

"Maybe!" Peony said with a flash of a charming grin. Behind them, Annie glowered.

Stupid high school drama. What a nice relief from worrying about the end of the world.

My phone pinged.

Dusk again. A photo of an open sewer.

Dusk - Sundown.

I put away the phone, my nerves setting.

I'd burned the day pretending to be normal. When school rang out I didn't have time to do much more than get ready. If I was going alone I only had time to bring in one other person.

>nominate one other hero to bring
>go alone, just Hotspur and Dusk

>>6140455
Who was it that fought the flesh smith in the last? It was like crusader or something?

>>6140485
Ironclad

>>6140489
Shit he's probably still busy playing bodyguard. Let's just roll with Dusk.

>>6140499
>>6140489
Isnt Ironclad his rival? Arch-nemesis? He might make it a priority

>>6140529
I don't love the idea of leaving Madeleine unguarded

>>6140455
Try to pull in uuuuh
>>6139738
this guy

Ironclad would be good, but also we're trying to end Flesh-Smith lethally here and ideally not let his employer find out so that makes including him tricky. Maybe if he pinky promises not to report back.

>>6140455
>nominate one other hero to bring
I'm open to trying Grit, he'd be extra useful in the tunnels. Im not sure he'd agree though, he really only cares about his part of town. If I remember right. This quest has been going for a long time and I've forgotten way too much.

>>6140558
>>6140545
bringing Grit it is

ok.

with my output over the last month I can fully appreciate why/if many players have dropped this quest, but I'm trying to keep it going and not give in to the shit that's swallowing up my life

>>6141616
Stay strong bud I'll be around

>>6141616
I wish you well mate, Im still here.

>>6141616
You had a super long hiatus with no communication about it and still had invested players here waiting for you. You're good man.

>>6141616
>>6141616
To be fair, a lot of them are not inputting/outputting their vote because at the same time you went an hiatus 4chan decided that anons had to put there emails in to comment or wait 10 minutes of verification. It’s a pain in the ass overall

(Guess how long ago I typed this message)

>>6141865
I also sometimes don't post because the option I like is winning or I have no opinion on the prompt choice, the latter is why I didn't post in the previous vote. I imagine others also do the same.

>>6141616
I'll still be here man, take your time

I thought about asking Ironclad. He had real beef with the Flesh-Smith. But the thought of leaving Ms Grant without her bodyguard left me easy. He'd have to live without his revenge. Instead I fired off a DM to Grit. It wasn't long before I got one back.

Grit - I'm down.

Of course he was. Grit liked to brawl and he didn't mind getting messy. I told him where to meet me and to expect company.

Then I went home.

A highlight reel of my last encounter with the monster ran through the back of my mind. The bio-ghouls clamoring through the sewers, screeching for our blood. The miserable little creature Veech, my sword through his head. That horrible face, distorted and stretched out to cover a wall while giant fleshy fingers reached out to snatch Ayane. And the smell, the smell of the sewer, the smell of blood and gristle. The charnel house smell of his domain.

My heart pounded thinking about it.

Stepping into a nightmare. Nothing to it. Had to be done.

Getting to my hideout, getting changed, it was all a little automatic. I wanted Ayesha and Ivy. I wanted them both, right now, together. I wanted to get lost one last time between them. One last night in case the worst happened.

But the fire had to be carried into the night. And I'm the fire-bearer. Whatever that meant. No, I knew what it meant. More than ever right now, I knew what it meant.

Carry the fire. I pulled on my suit, fixed my goggles. Missing my jacket. Really needed to get that back.

Then I was out of there, with the sun sinking down, and a chill rain following soon after.

It fell a soft gray curtain over the city, chasing people off the street, washing the rest who couldn't, sending streams gurgling with fat polluted bubbles down the gutters. A soft whisper hissing across Chicago.

I landed in a park near the open sewer. The rain pittering off the trees. Nostrils filled with that good grassy smell. Shadows grown long. The cough of a car exhaust and Grit trundled up in his beat up old chevvy. He got out with a sniff, don up in a Merriweather improved outfit. A sleeveless vest with bulletproof plates, heavy stab proof jeans with steel cap timbs. A Captain America kind of helmet to keep his head from being caved in. Kind of like a pinoy 50 Cent.

"Yo," I said.

"Yo yourself," he said, sniffing again then spitting up a glob of snot. He stomped a foot and the ground spat up a long handled sledgehammer that he swung up over his shoulder, "Sorry, got some allergies. Fuck, glad to be out of the house though. Babies, man. Full of puke and shit and crying all the fucking time."

"How is the kid?" I asked.

"With her mama," he said, "We hunting some kind of monster?"

"Some kind, yeah," I said, "The kind you don't take to prison."

He gave me a side glance at that. Then nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"The worst kind of monster," a new voice, a voice of dark silk, came from the shadows.

She emerged, and I sucked in a thrilled breath as the shape of her appeared from the darkness. Made of darkness, hips clad in midnight, gripping every curve of her tighter than the tightest cloth. White eyes in a midnight black face flicked between me and Grit.

She raised up her fingers, and from them merged obsidian talons, viciously hooked. "We hunt the dragon in its lair," Dusk said. There was nothing in her voice that sounded like the Japanese news anchor. It was seductive, and dripping with violence. She turned from us to face the open sewer, and I kept my eyes at a respectful place between her shoulders. Grit let his roam.

"Grit, this is Dusk," I said, "Dusk, this is Grit."

She glanced back over her shoulder at us. "Grit, this no gangster we're after. Tonight we are hunters. There will be no mercy shown nor mercy offered. Are you ready?"

Grit shrugged. "Shit, let's do this," he said, sniffing back on his clogged nose again.

"Then follow me, if you-"

"WAIT!"

A new voice, and she came bounding out of the trees in overalls and my oversized jacket, Dog-Brother behind her. Ayane.

What the fuck was she doing here?

"Don't go!" she huffed, "Don't go without me, I can help!"

Dusk's blank white eyes widened, a ripple running over her shadow clad figure.

Dog-Brother grabbed Ayane, pulling her back. "S-sorry," he said, "M-my bad. Sh-she slipped out. F-followed Grit a-and I f-followed her."

"I can help," Ayane said, turning those pleading eyes on me, "You know I can, Hotspur. Didn't I heal you last time? Tell her I can help."

I looked over her head to Dog-Brother, who shrugged.

"No," Dusk said, "It's too dangerous."

But she ignored her sister, kept her eyes stuck on me. "Please, Hotspur. Don't go without me. I can help and I...I need to face him. Please."

"And it won't be dangerous. Not for me. I'm the Living Dead Girl, remember?"

>She...wasn't wrong. She could help
>No, it really was too dangerous

>>6143547
>She...wasn't wrong. She could help
Better for her to come with us now than try to sneak back out and find us alone

>>6143547
>She...wasn't wrong. She could help
Judging by the last raid we need all the help we can get

>>6143547
>She...wasn't wrong. She could help
Miss phoenix tears, and the last maiden.

>>6143547
I mean she COULD help but she could be used as a hostage again. If she does come with us she better be made less vulnerable one way or another.

I also hesitate to vote against because what anon >>6143630 said sounds like a distinct possibility.

>>6143928
>>6143649
>>6143646
>>6143630
that seems set

ok, locking it in

She had a point, and I'd rather she be where I could protect her instead of sneaking after us. Couldn't risk her getting caught, turned into a hostage or worse, turned into...I shuddered.

"Ok," I said

"If you think I'm just going to sit back while you play hero, you've got another thing coming!" she said.

"Ok, you can come."

"Maybe I can't leap over a skyscraper like you can, but I can still help. And you aren't the boss of me anyway. I don't need your permission to go, you aren't my dad!"

"I said ok, you can come."

"And besides you wouldn't even have got away last time without me, so-" she cut off blinking, finally hearing what I'd said. A blush ripped across her cheeks. "Oh, yeah! Cool! Let's go then!"

Dusk glared back at the both of us.

"This is a mistake," Dusk said.

"Don't worry, I'll protect her," I said.

"Very chivalrous," Dusk said, her eyes narrowing.

Grit shouldered his hammer, spitting up a glob of snot. "Let's get moving then."

We left Dog-Brother at the sewer mouth, Dusk taking the lead. Whatever the extent of her powers, she seemed untroubled by the darkness. If anything the darkness drew her in, blurred her image as if she were merging more and more with it with each step. I switched on my palm light, the white glow extended from my hand. A trickle of bubbling water ran between our feet, garbage bobbing along down it. Ayane's nose wrinkled as she stepped over the bloated corpse of a dead rat.

Rain meant the sewer waters ran thicker than usual, and the walls were wet with slime. It was cold down here, way colder than the world above. The sewers narrowed and widened at strange intervals, forcing us into single file.

Grit ran his hand along the sewer wall.

"Picking up anything?" I asked.

"Yeah, a cold," he said with a tough grin.

"Har-har," Ayane rolled her eyes.

"I know where the devil sleeps," Dusk's voice from the darkness, "Follow close. The devil dreams, and nightmares stir."

Ayane shivered at the sound of her sister's voice, a troubled frown crinkling her nose. She shook her head.

I don't know if it was the right call to bring her, but I put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Her fingers fell over mine, squeezing back. She looked back to me and her sad eyes said 'thank you', for the small comfort, and for letting her come.

Then she let out a little 'oh!' and started pulling off my jacket.

"You'll need this back," she said, "Before, you know."

>let her keep it
>pull it on

>>6144098
>pull it on

>>6144098
>let her keep it
For now, it'll provide her some protection yeah?

>>6144171
its stab resistant, yeah

>>6144098
>let her keep it
Just because you can't die doesn't mean you can't be hurt down here

>>6144098
>pull it on
She’ll only need it if we do a bad job protecting her

>>6144098
If I recall, fleshsmith wants her, so I doubt he would try and stab her "Flesh" but I dunno.

I'd say we pull it on.

>>6144159
>>6144178
>>6144306
ok, locking that in

"Yeah, give it here," I said as she slid it off her shoulders. She handed it over with a little 'hup', and when I pulled it on it was heavy with the smell of sweat, grime, and something light I couldn't put a finger on. I checked the collar. It was good to have it back.

But now Ayane looked vulnerable without it, not to mention cold. She rubbed her biceps, looking back the way we'd come. She had a natural pout to her lips that made her look extra worried.

"Don't worry," I said, "I won't let anything hurt you."

"It's not me I'm worried about," she said, rubbing her wrist. Rubbing the long vertical scar. She glanced toward her sister, still fording ahead down the tunnel. "It's weird seeing her like this. She doesn't even talk like herself."

I only knew her sister from brief snippets of an interview or news report on TV. I couldn't judge, but I'd have to take her word for it. She was certainly one of the more intense personalities I'd run into in this life. Whatever had caused the change in her personality, it scared Ayane.

"We standing around jerking off, or are we going to get moving?" Grit said, coming up the rear.

"Come on," Ayane said with a sigh, starting after Dusk, "We've got a dragon to slay."

I followed her, boots sloshing through the rising sewerage.

"After we're done with this, you and me gotta talk," Grit said from behind me.

"Oh yeah?" I asked, glancing back.

He nodded. "Favor for a favor, understand. Need help dealing with my own thing. But it can wait until after."

"Fair enough," I said.

"Talk less," Dusk snapped from up ahead.

"Yes ma'am," Grit said with eyebrows raised.

We marched deeper into the sewer, following Dusk as best we could, the rush of running water a near deafening drone the deeper we travelled into the heart of Chicago's underworld. We couldn't talk now even if we wanted to. The smell off my jacket made a bad mix with the stink of the sewer. It was like Ayane hadn't taken it off since I'd draped it over her shoulders.

Bringing her, I still wasn't sure it was a good idea. She was tougher than she looked. She was short, skinny, petite even. She tried to hide it with her tomboy haircut and tough attitude, but she really looked frail down here. But the real toughness, the tough that mattered, was in the way she forced herself through the filth without a single complaint. A lot of things can be faked, but being willing to march into the darkness to confront a monster who had already hurt you once? Nothing fake about that.

I kept the vision of my sword in my mind, ready to draw it to defend her when needed. And it would be needed.

Dusk pulled us to a stop at an intersection. Looking one way, then the other.

"The devil is near," she said, obsidian talons growing longer. Ayane swallowed, staring down a dark tunnel.

>take the lead from here, first into the fire
>let Dusk lead the way, this was her fight
>give Grit point, his powers would guide you

>>6144611
>give Grit point, his powers would guide you

>>6144611
>let Dusk lead the way, this was her fight

>>6144611
>give Grit point, his powers would guide you
Hopefully as an earth user he has high defense too

>>6144611
Who has the best sensory abilities between them? Whoever that is should take point with the other going behind and Ayane between them and us as the rearguard.

>>6144745
>>6144719
Grit it is

>>6144965
Hotspur is not aware of the full extent of Dusk's powers

"Grit, take the lead," I said.

"On it," Grit said.

"Excuse me?" Dusk looked back my way.

"Grit's powers let him see through stone," I explained, "He's a human radar down here. He'll know what's coming and from where."

"Hmph," Dusk said, "Fine, but I see clearly in the dark. I'll follow."

"Then I'll take up the rear guard, in case of any nasty surprises," I said.

"What do I do?" Ayane asked.

"Stay safe," said Dusk, "And close to your knight. Hotspur will protect you."

"Protecting fair maidens is half my job," I said.

"And that's all he will do," Dusk added with sisterly menace.

"Oh yeah, you should worry about Spur," Grit said, "Bro's a player. That's what I hear anyway, he's got himself two girlfriends and got them tangled up with each other. Real slick pimp shit."

Dusk shot me a glare and I really wanted to tell Grit to shut the fuck up.

"It's not like that," I said and shot Grit a look that said 'dude, the fuck did I do?' Grit's grin said 'you don't want the rep? Don't play the game.' Which was fair enough but boy did I not need that right now. It had both Ayane and Dusk glaring at me like I'd suddenly slipped a wet fart in a cramped elevator.

"Whatever its like, it sounds sleazy, and I'm not that kind of 'maiden'," Ayane said, a little too heated and stomping a bit too hard in the gray water. Dusk seemed happy with that, stroking a talon down her jaw. Ayane looked back at me, cheeks pink. "You know, you can really trick a girl into thinking you're a decent guy!"

The fuck did I do?

"Whatever," I said, "Call me a slime ball, but I will protect you."

"Everyone has a good quality or two, just keep your hands to yourself," she fired back over her shoulder.

"Bickering children," Dusk hissed as Grit kept chuckling.

The chuckling cut off though as we made our way deeper into the dark. We marched in silence, trying even to muffle the slosh of our feet through the water. Ayane's overalls were stained with filth half way up to the knee, her shoes would be soaked. She kept a hand to the wall as if it kept her safe, her anger still clear.

I kept an eye on the path behind us. There was no way of knowing where a nasty surprise might emerge. Not against a villain like the Flesh-Smith.

Grit stopped us with a raised fist, frowning deep at the darkness ahead. Droplets of filthy water dribbled from the ceiling, pittering off his shoulder. However annoyed I was with him died at the sight of his deep glare.

"Something's off," he said, voice low, "There's people ahead, I know it. A lot of them. Twenty, maybe thirty? But there's something else. Something like a...like a blanket over the earth. It makes it hard to see."

"How far ahead?" Dusk asked, glaring past his shoulder.

"Not far," he said, "I say people but...I ain't never felt anything like this before."

Sounded right for the Flesh-Smith's den.

"Horrors conjured from the depths of a sick mind," Dusk said.

"He thinks he's a god," Ayane said, "He really, seriously does. We're all just playthings to him."

"Well he ain't Jesus Christ, so he ain't nothing but another psychopath," Grit said, forcing a toughness through his nerves, "And me and Spur've both dealt with our share of psychopaths."

"Not like this we haven't," I muttered, and doubt fluttered through Grit's eyes at that. Suddenly I felt under armed and under prepared. We should have brought an army.

Nothing to it now though, we were here. And it needed doing.

"You ready?" Grit asked.

>No, fuck no. Take a sec before diving in
>Fuck no but that changed nothing. Time to do this
>write-in

>>6145560
>write-in
A rather Grit-centric opening play, and Dusk should have a good shot to kill Flesh Smith. Grit launches some kind of rock shotgun into the crowd, then raises some earthen barriers \./ that funnel the flesh puppet mob towards Hotspur with his sword. Flesh Smith's attention will probably be on Hotspur, Ayane once he sees her, and Grit. Dusk goes for Flesh Smith while his attention is on us.

>>6145560
>Fuck no but that changed nothing. Time to do this

>>6145560
>Fuck no but that changed nothing. Time to do this


>>6145580
I don’t think Flesh Smith is even there
Probably deeper in the lair

>>6145636
>>6145677
going with this but keeping bits of the write-in

I never want a write in to feel wasted. unless it gets broad disagreement I'll try to incorporate some element of it if it makes sense.

>>6145944
I’m fine with incorporating whatever fits
Just remember how deep we had to go last time, plus FS didn’t seem like the type to hang out with minions

"Fuck no," I said, "But I never am. Let's do this."

He grinned, readying his hammer. "Just lay down the plan, and let's get moving."

I nodded. "I want you ready to throw up some barriers, create some lanes to control any hordes of bio-ghouls come rushing out of the dark. I'll draw my sword and cut my way through at a manageable pace. Dusk, take to the shadows and wait. I'll try and get us to Flesh-Smith, keep him distracting. You jump out with the killing blow."

"If he can be killed," Grit said.

"If it bleeds, we can kill it," Dusk said, eyes smiling. The first stab at a joke I'd heard out of her.

"What about me?" Ayane said, "You want me to just hang back? I didn't come here to be a wallflower."

I shook my head. "You just be ready with the tears in case any of us get hurt," I said, "Stick close to me or Grit. If nothing else, you might help distract Flesh-Smith, throw him off his game."

Ayane frowned. She didn't like it. But she nodded. "Beats doing nothing," she said, "But it would be better if I didn't have to heal anyone. Don't get yourself hurt, I don't cry easy."

She said it to all of us, but her glare stayed on me a fraction second longer. Touching. Good advice though, we still didn't really know how her powers worked.

Either way, Grit hucked back a glob of slime and spat out across the dark sewer.

"Enough fucking around," he said, treading into the dark.

What he'd sensed, when we got up to it, was the open door to a long abandoned basement of a who knew what building. Leading off from the dripping sewers, we came up on the open door with no small trepidation. My ears perked at the chittering beyond the doorway. A big room, practically the size of a school auditorium.

The underground of Chicago were like a layer cake, era after era built on top of each other. If I had to guess, this was another part of the lost Prohibition Era speakeasies, one of the larger ones. Literally an underground nightclub. We picked our way through the open door, and my guess was rewarded with the faded gilding of a once fancy balustrade, a flight of stairs leading downward, and a half collapsed bar off to the side of the stairs.

There were no lights in this lost hall. Not until I drew my sword, with white fire jettisoning into the dark, casting a glow that caught the stark thoughtless eyes of a mass of bio-ghouls beneath our feet.

Flesh-Smith's abominations never got easier to look at, not least because they were never uniform, each a uniquely awful violation of the human body concocted by his sick imaginings. They didn't move at first, just watched. Had to be closer to thirty of them than twenty.

Where their enslaver was I couldn't tell. But there was a shaft in the middle of the long, wide hallway, leading down deeper into the strata of Chicago's underworld.

"Okay Spur," Grit said, swallowing at the sight of the mutated victims, "We doing this?"

>let's go, stick with the plan
>figure out a different approach (write-in)

>>6147589
>let's go, stick with the plan

>>6147589
>let's go, stick with the plan
We’ll just have to chop them down faster than he can make them

ok I need 3 sets of 3 x 1d100

feel free to roll a character's full set in one post.

Hotspur:

>3 x 1d100+15 DC 70

Grit:

>3 x 1d100+10 DC 65

Dusk

>3 x 1d100+20 DC 70

trying something a bit different here

Rolled 54, 90, 70 + 15 = 229 (3d100 + 15)

>>6148350
Hotspur

Rolled 84, 19, 99 + 10 = 212 (3d100 + 10)

>>6148350

Rolled 13, 25, 76 + 20 = 134 (3d100 + 20)

>>6148350
Damn dusk gets a higher bonus than us?

>>6148395
Grit almost nails a crit success, but its a pass for everyone

Sorry for the delay, writing it now.

Grit stretched out a hand, eyes half shut. He gave a soft grunt, focusing on the ballroom. I took the stairs two at a time, blazing sword in hand. Dusk stepped back into the shadows, disappearing.

The bio-ghouls turned to face us, chittering their nonsense. One with bone blades jutting from its elbows began bounding toward me on all fours, its hunched back quilled with iron protrusions. Wide eyes filled with stark terror, it spat thick drool at me as it charged.

Beneath its feet the floor boards warped, bulged, then at last burst in a spry of rotting timber, the cement beneath their feet rising in a stark column. It barely slowed its advance though, bounding off the rising earth, running down its rising side toward me, swishing its elbow blades in deadly arcs as behind it the rest of the horde kicked into life, an over turned ants nest of furious confusion. My sight of the greater swarm of bio-ghouls around that entrance narrowed as cement walls rose up ahead of me, narrowing their approach.

The roof above rumbled, dust shook loose with the violent eruption of earth from beneath our feet.

In that sprawling old Chicago ballroom, Grit made a cement labyrinth. A death trap for the bio-ghouls, with me the minotaur.

If the Flesh-Smith didn't know we were hear before, he sure as fuck knew we were here now.

Behind me Ayane stuck close, gasping in shock, an arm to the wall to keep from sprawling over. I chucked her a look but the shriek of a bio-ghoul snapped my attention back in front of me. Couldn't let them get past. Couldn't let them get to Ayane.

Whatever I'd kept of Baby-Girl's lessons, I was still a raw amateur with a sword, so I went with instinct. Attack. Blade slashing out with a ripple of fire, it parted bone and muscle with a sizzle of cooking flesh. The bio-ghoul smacked to the ground, cut in two with innards spilling out behind it. Still it crawled at me with one arm until at last the spillage of its guts caught up with it, and shuddered at my feet, a last death rattle.

Vomit rose in my throat, but I had no time to be sick. They came down the darkened corridor, a swarm of mutant flesh, bulging in unnatural ways. A green glow warned me of the next attack, a vomit of bio-energy, boiling plasma, come hurtling out of the dark. Slower than a bullet though, I ducked back, swinging back an arm to pull Ayane with me.

"I saw it, don't worry," she said, my grip tight on the strap of her overalls, "You don't need to worry about me, Hotspur. Just go and do your thing."

I checked back and saw the hardness in her face. We exchanged a nod.

I darted forward, meeting the bio-ghouls head on, the fire in my hands the only light to see by. It was in the flaring white cuts I saw the details of their twisted bodies, cast in a white glow with deep shadows.

Their mouths spitting wordless sounds of horror and rage. What they had been glimpsing out from the large white staring eyes in glimpses more disturbing than what had become of their bodies, forced on by the terrible will of their enslaver.

I felt sick again for a deeper reason. This was true evil. Blasts of hot energy missed me but struck the cement walls, melting it to slag, chewing into it deep holes as the stone turned to a molten slurry. Sometimes hitting a fellow ghoul, melting the flesh and bone with a terrible stench. I weaved through the mess of cutting limbs and plasma bursts, panting, slashing and thrusting, my blows cooking them as much as cutting them. Until the corridor stood empty and I stood panting in a mask full of sweat, arms shaking.

The toil my sword took, it was like starting over all over again. The tiredness and the hunger. I swallowed, drawing on deeper reserves of will. How many had I left chopped apart and frying behind me? Not all of them. I could hear more ahead in the dark.

"Hotspur!" Ayane cried.

Above me I looked, and down dropped a chittering beast, more baboon than man with fangs outstretched on a lipless face, driving down with a screech and a bone-arm that would have surely speared me.

But the shadows quivered. Then the glimpse of something in the dark, a glint of dark obsidian followed by a red splash.

She moved from shadow to shadow, a killing shade. The rippling stride of a lunge as her taloned hand struck out, ripping open flesh. She struck with the merciless grace of a leopard, the shape of her appearing from the dark only to disappear into it again. The ape-ghoul came apart mid-air, unfurling to spray down across the twisted planks of the ballroom. Spattering over my shoulders.

Dusk emerged from the shadows, clinging to the wall, looking down on me with head cocked to one side.

"Shall we?" she said, looking down to where the remaining ghouls emerged.

I raised my sword. "Let's get it done."

Shadow and light we met the remaining ghouls. Dusk leapt down from the wall to fight at my back. A swipe of her claws and blood spattered her belly, her shoulders, painted red streaks across her midnight curves. I could hear the heat in her panting. Shadows rose to snare the ghouls by the ankles, holding them in place long enough for the killing blow. We waded through a stream of gore, toward the open stairwell leading down.

The last of those unnatural guards fought with silent fury at the top of those stairs, protecting to the last the lair of the real monster.

Dusk opened the last bio-ghoul's skull with a thrust of her talons, taking it through the eye and nostril like a human bowling ball, then with a dismissive flick of her wrist split the skull apart. Blood and viscera dripped down her wrist and she stood panting, a terrible heat coming off her. Chest surging, painted in streaks of red.

I swallowed, mouth too dry, belly roaring with hunger. I could take a time out already.

Ayane bit her lip. Frightened maybe, I don't know if by what she'd seen or what we'd done.

Behind us Grit came strolling. Looking around at our work with a wrinkled nose.

"We done up here?" he asked, wiping away his own sweat.

Dusk looked down the stairwell. "The beast lies beneath us," she said, "Can you sense it?"

Grit shook his head. "Nah there's...I don't know how to explain it but I can't feel anything down there. And I don't mean like there's nothing down there, I mean as in down there don't exist. Like a missing tooth or something, or like a dead zone. I don't know."

Ayane shivered. Yeah, I was a bit spooked by what he said too.

"If we go in blind, so be it, but we must go," Dusk said, "There's no turning back now."

The fire must be carried, even to the darkest lands. Not my thought.

Ayane stood at the top of the stairs. She closed her eyes. Her shivering settled. She opened her eyes. The Living Dead Girl. Determined. "Let's do it," she said.

And she started down the stairs.

next post will be the start of a new thread

not sure if it'll be tonight or tomorrow

sorry for the posting slump. I'm trying to be more active

>>6150997
Waiting warmly

>>6150997
Looking forward to it.

>>6150997
no worries champ

>>6150997
Augh this cliffhanger
You guys think Grit can’t feel anything because Flesh Smith made a cavern of pure biomass?

>>6151261
a womb for the monsters

>>6151261
I could see that, yeah. Then the Flesh Smith absorbs it and becomes a giant monster like hes straight out of Power Rangers. Or he made contact with Space Satan and got darkness powers.