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File: HellbornQuest.jpg (38 KB, 400x616)
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The Story So Far: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=hellborn
1-50 Thread Summary: http://pastebin.com/DYy8w24r
51-100 Thread Summary: http://pastebin.com/wx3HtRT5

QM Twitter: https://twitter.com/HellbornQuest
Character Sheet: http://pastebin.com/rNg3Yw8m (pictures within)
Ask Languid Anything: ask.fm/HellbornQM

Your name is Sierra Beckhoff, and you are hellborn – part mortal, part demon. Ever since you ran into a family of demon hunters, a lot of weird (but cool) stuff has gone down. You’ve battled rogue generals, joined the a baron’s conclave of demonic advisors, and dueled landmasters. You maybe even met a real live dragon – though you’re not a hundred percent on that one.

Most surprisingly though, you just recently graduated high school, and that means you’ve tied up all the loose ends keeping you in town.

Now is the time for you to embark on your amazing vision quest spirit journey, explore America (and Canada, you guess) accrue landwells, meet interesting people, and kill them.

--

You lie in bed wide awake. You didn’t really get any sleep, but you’re not tired.

Stress: 24/103
Sanity: 98/100

The beginnings of the sunrise filter in through the curtained window of your room. It’s some ungodly hour, like six AM, but you are not tired. In fact, the only reason you’re still in bed is out of respect for all the times you wished you could stay in bed, but had to get up. This is one of the rare times it’s the opposite.

Your alarm starts to go off, but doesn’t even finish the first chirp before you smash it off with a fist. With measured discipline, you rise from bed, and go about your morning routine.

Today is not like other days. Today is a day of greatness. It is the day... of your road trip. A trip that you, yourself, and nobody else – with the exception of only the closest of friends and allies – has orchestrated.
>>
>>40609009

It is not a simple matter. This continent spanning adventure will challenge you in body and in mind, and probably in patience.

But really it’ll be a real hoot. You’ve wanted to do something like this for years, and now you actually have the time, resources, and company to make it happen. Plus it’ll be a neat way to escape San Francisco and all the drama that happens there.

Down to the base of the Sierra Nevada, then turning north, all the way to Vancouver and through the mountains, then skirting into Canada for a thousand miles before rounding down by the Niagara falls. You’ll hi-five Washington or New York, then curve back around through America’s breadbasket before cashing out in Vegas and taking the long road back home.

You can hardly imagine the wacky hijinks you’ll get up to with your friends. But just in case, you and Ro have made sure you’re packing enough heat for any parties you might unexpectedly be invited to. You have an SUV packed with enough magic swords, explosives, ammunition, and mystical charms for days.

You head downstairs about the time Rowan gets in the shower, and you make yourself breakfast, making full use of all the miscellaneous jams and leftovers in the fridge.

With your stomach crammed to bursting, you’re about to head into the garage and run through the systems check when you notice the basement door is slightly ajar. You hear the rhythmic ringing of a hammer on metal tools, so you decide to check it out.

Heading down, you find Harvey in the smithy portion of the command bunker, beating on a sharpened piece of metal at the anvil. The steel, or whatever it is, glows red hot, though Harvey has no trouble handling it through his thick gloves. He flips the long, knife-shaped piece of metal onto its other side, slides it to the edge of the anvil, and delivers a series of sharp, precision blows to the cutting edge.

True to Harvey fashion, he’s still in his PJs.
>>
>>40609071

“What you making this time?” you ask. It looks like a knife, but you never know.

Harvey pauses to glance back at you, and then resumes his hammering.

“A bayonet,” he says loudly.

“How badass is it going to be when you’re done?” you ask.

“Fairly,” he says. He flips the bayonet over again, puts his hammer down, and dips a thick brush into a jar of something that looks like candlewax. He applies the stuff to both sides of the spearhead with the brush, and then picks up the hammering again, going over both sides.

You watch for a minute, knowing you have a little time. “Who’s it for?”

“Me,” he says. Harvey delivers a final hammer blow, douses the metal in a bucket of water, and wraps it up in a white cloth weaved with gold filigree.

“I thought you liked guns,” you say.

“It’s a gun accessory,” he replies, placing the wrapped knife blade in a padded box and carefully closing it.

“Why not just make a gun?”

He leans back against the counter and folds his arms. “I’ll do one of those later,” he says. “We don’t have the right kinds of tools down here. Guns are tricky.”

Enchanted Harvey weapons. “I want to see it when it’s done,” you say, nodding at the box.

“You want a lot of things,” Harvey says.

You smile. “And I get them.”

“Like landwells,” Harvey says.

“Like wings,” you say. “It’s dumb I can give people wings but I don’t have wings.”

“You have a shadow,” says Harvey. “That has to count for something.”

“It does,” you admit.

You feel a more serious feeling coming from Harvey, though, though when he speaks, he sounds normal like always. “You’re going to claim a lot of landwells this trip,” he says.

You nod, curious what he’s getting at. “Yeah?”

“I have a theory about Landmasters,” he says.

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. “And?”

“How did Roger and Hugo’s power compare to yours?” he asks.

“Well, at the time, Hugo was a good ways away from me. And Roger was like, almost double in terms of magicalness.”
>>
>>40609105

“It doesn’t make sense,” says Harvey. “Hugo sounds like he’s a lot older than Roger, but Roger has more wells?”

“Well, Roger doesn’t have competition in Canada,” you say. “Or maybe Hugo got into a turf war and lost some wells.”

“Or, time for my theory, your power’s not just about how many wells you have,” he says.

You snort. “How so? Because so far, it seems pretty dependent.”

“There must be some kind of ceiling,” says Harvey. “Whenever you claim a well, you absorb its power, right?”

“Right,” you say, allowing him to continue.

“Maybe there’s only so much people can absorb,” he says. “And maybe some people are better at building up the ability to utilize land magic. Like Roger. You thought he was a dragon or something. Maybe dragons can handle more land magic than regular humans, without working as hard to back it up. What if he only has ten wells, and Hugo has a hundred, but Hugo can’t do anything with the magic but sit on it?”

“Huh,” you say. There’s kind of an interesting idea.

>Wait. What happens when I reach my ceiling? I mean. You don’t think I’ll blow up, right?
>Look. You leave the landmaster worrying stuff to me. You just focus on you and that Sydney Sydneyson.
>Well, keep that theory brewing. You’ve only heard of three landmasters so far, so that’s not really enough to base assumptions off of.
>You think I’ve sucked down landwells like coke floats so far cause I’m like some kind of magic battery?
>Let me get this straight. The landmaster power formula is something like number of landwells times experience, divided by the human factor? Or I guess in my case, the inhuman factor?
>So... given your theory, how likely on a scale of one to absolutely am I going to get wings within the next couple wells?
>Other (?)
>>
>>40609120
>So... given your theory, how likely on a scale of one to absolutely am I going to get wings within the next couple wells?
Priorities.
>>
>>40609120
>You think I’ve sucked down landwells like coke floats so far cause I’m like some kind of magic battery?
>Well, keep that theory brewing. You’ve only heard of three landmasters so far, so that’s not really enough to base assumptions off of.
>So... given your theory, how likely on a scale of one to absolutely am I going to get wings within the next couple wells?
>>
>>40609120
>>Let me get this straight. The landmaster power formula is something like number of landwells times experience, divided by the human factor? Or I guess in my case, the inhuman factor?
>>So... given your theory, how likely on a scale of one to absolutely am I going to get wings within the next couple wells?
>>Other (?)
>>
>>40609120
>Let me get this straight. The landmaster power formula is something like number of landwells times experience, divided by the human factor? Or I guess in my case, the inhuman factor?
>Well, keep that theory brewing. You’ve only heard of three landmasters so far, so that’s not really enough to base assumptions off of.
>So... given your theory, how likely on a scale of one to absolutely am I going to get wings within the next couple wells?
>>
>>40609120
>It could be that Hugo just doesn't have tons of wells. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who cares enough to hold hundreds of the things.
>Besides, I'm totally awesome enough to make it work.
>>
>>40609120
>>Well, keep that theory brewing. You’ve only heard of three landmasters so far, so that’s not really enough to base assumptions off of.
We really have no hard info to go on. He might be right, he might not. We just don't know yet.

Could be Roger is lik 700 years old and a dragon and has 100 wells. But hugo is just 50 and have 20 or so. We just don't know.
>>
>>40609120
>Other
"Shit, I dunno. Your guess is as good as mine, really."
>>
>>40609120
>What about that other Canadian guy who was pumped enough to scare off Sattler? She's got more juice than Roger or Hugo and I'm pretty sure the golden deer Canadian guy was a human.
>>
>>40609120
Adding to >>40609344
>Well, even if I do hit a ceiling, it's gonna be baller to expand the places I can teleport to. I can totally rub it in Wolfgang's face. International and partially interplanar totally, like, trumps intracity and stuff.
>>
>>40609412
This
>>
>>40609120
>Well, keep that theory brewing. You’ve only heard of three landmasters so far, so that’s not really enough to base assumptions off of.
>And both of the others were pretty secretive about things, Hugo might not try for more than he can keep and Roger could've inherited a lot of his wells, his Mom looked kinda native in the pics I saw.
>Let me get this straight. The landmaster power formula is something like number of landwells times experience, divided by the human factor? Or I guess in my case, the inhuman factor?
>So... given your theory, how likely on a scale of one to absolutely am I going to get wings within the next couple wells?
>>
>>40609120
>Other
"Even if there's limit on how much power a land master can absorb, they can still travel to nodes they've claimed. More landwells means more places to travel to quickly."
>>
>>40609120
>>Well, keep that theory brewing. You’ve only heard of three landmasters so far, so that’s not really enough to base assumptions off of.

"But if that's true, then I guess I'm going to find out real soon."
>>
“Let me get this straight,” you say. “Given your theory, the landmaster power formula is something like number of landwells times experience, divided by the human factor? Or I guess in my case, the inhuman factor?”

Harvey gives it some thought. “Something like that,” he says. “Except the formula doesn’t apply for the first few wells. They’re like the free space in bingo.”

“Your metaphor doesn’t really make sense when you add the bingo thing in,” you say.

“I’m still working on the bingo angle,” Harvey admits.

“Well, keep that theory brewing,” you say. “ I mean, three landmasters isn’t really enough to go figuring out everything. What if Roger’s actually a thousand years old with a thousand wells, and Hugo’s just fifty fifty? Or maybe Hugo just doesn’t really have that many wells. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who has hundreds of things.”

Harvey looks vaguely thoughtful. “Possibly,” he says.

“And,” you add, “and the landmaster that scared off the T-1000 Sattler sounded human to me. So... not saying you’re wrong, but, you know, I kind of am saying you’re wrong.”

“Maybe I’m partially right,” says Harvey.

“Eh, I can give you that much. So in the perfect world created by your theory, though,” you say, “how likely on a scale of one to absolutely am I going to get wings within the next couple wells?”
>>
>>40610149
“It’s not the next well, because then you wouldn’t learn about patience,” says Harvey. “The well after that would be too soon, if we’re thinking about the typical rising action, climax, resolution situation. The only three times you might be getting wings are either the turning point, the end of your trip, or just probably when you least expect it.”

“When am I least expecting it?” you ask.

Harvey judges you, trying to appraise with exactness which well will bring the wings. “I’ll say... the fourth well,” he says. “You won’t be expecting it at all by then.”

“Except now I am expecting it,” you say.

“The fifth well, then,” Harvey says. “Whichever you expect less.”

“That’s dumb.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You asked.”


>Time’s a wasting. Ro’s probably good to go by now. So. See ya.
>Remember – if you haven’t kissed Sydney by this time next week by midnight, you’ll never get land magic ever.
>Yeah, but you’re the one who came up with a dumb answer. Don’t put that on me.
>You going to miss me and stuff? Cause I bet you are.
>Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.
>Other (?)
>>
>>40610170
>You little bastard you're trying to sabotage my wings by making me expect them.
>>
>>40610170
>You going to miss me and stuff? Cause I bet you are.
>>
>>40610170

>Yeah, but you’re the one who came up with a dumb answer. Don’t put that on me.
>Remember – if you haven’t kissed Sydney by this time next week by midnight, you’ll never get land magic ever.
>>
>>40610170
>>40610170
>You going to miss me and stuff? Cause I bet you are.
>>
>>40610170
>Remember – if you haven’t kissed Sydney by this time next week by midnight, you’ll never get land magic ever.
>You going to miss me and stuff? Cause I bet you are.
>Other: 'Cause I'll miss you. Nerd.
>>
>>40610208
seconded
>>
>>40610170

>Remember – if you haven’t kissed Sydney by this time next week by midnight, you’ll never get land magic ever.
>>
We need to chill with Harvey more. He's pretty bro.

Maybe bring him on a mission with us when we get back?
>>
>>40610947
Stalk him from the shadows on his elf date.
>>
>>40610947
hes a black smith, so im going to go out on a limb and say that his endurance and hand eye coordination are pretty top notch when it comes to banging on shit all god damned day. maybe we force him to join our band as the drummer?
>>
>>40610992
>his endurance and hand eye coordination are pretty top notch when it comes to banging on elves all god damned day.

There, that's better.
>>
>>40610992
DRUMMER ACQUIRED!!!!!1
>>
>>40610992
Ladies and Gentleman it looks like we've found our drummer.

>>40610170
Can we ask him if he's interested in being a drummer for our band?
>>
>>40611046
i cant remember, and I'm too lazy to check the archives. is his elfu of the delicious chocolate variety?
>>
>>40610992
>>40611053
>>40611079
Oh yeah blacksmith=drummer all day!
>>
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>>40610992
I think you're on to something there, mate.

>>40611046
You, too.

>>40611250
I don't think we ever got a detailed description of her.
>>
“You little bastard.” You lean over and sock him in hard in the shoulder, though he gives no indication of noticing the blow. “You're trying to sabotage my wings by making me expect them!”

“You asked,” he repeats.

“Don’t put that on me,” you tell him threateningly, failing to restrain your snickering. “If I don’t get wings on this trip, I’m holding you financially responsible.”

“Financially?”

“I’ll sue. Best friend’s dad is the magister, and my boyfriend’s a lawyer.” And then you add very quietly and quickly, “In training.”

Harvey is unimpressed. “I don’t have money.”

“BS. This family’s loaded,” you say. “So, you going to miss me and stuff? Cause I bet you are.”

“How much?” he asks.

You give him an annoyed look. “Just say yes.”

“Huh. I suppose,” he says blandly.

You threaten your fist again. “Miss me,” you order.

He shrugs. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll miss you.”

You smile, satisfied that your demands will be met. “Good,” you say. “But that’s not all you’ve got to do. Remember, if you haven’t kissed Sydney by this time next week by midnight, I’ll never give you land magic ever.”

“That’s not the deal we agreed on,” Harvey says.

“I am altering the deal,” you say. “Pray I do not alter it further.”

Harvey makes an unhappy face. “What did I ever do to you?” he asks.

You reach out and ruffle up his hair, though it’s not really that satisfying since it’s already messed up.
“Oh come on. I’m just joking around,” you say, grinning. “Anyway. Guess I need to get working on the final countdown list, so, I’ll see ya.”

“Let me know before you leave,” he says.

You agree, and head out to make sure you’re not forgetting obvious, like your wallet, or 10mm hollow point. Rowan comes down and joins in the effort a couple minutes later. She’s all decked out for long distance travel in a pair of short shorts, a baggy old t-shirt, and a baseball cap.

“All is well,” she notes, climbing back out of the trunk of the SUV. “Let’s ride!”
>>
>>40611504

Her enthusiasm is commendable if a little preemptive. “Gotta say goodbye to people first,” you say.

“Come on, we see our family every day, it’s not every day we get to ditch them and go crazy on the highway,” she says.

“Well, by that logic, we don’t get to say goodbye to everybody every day, so that means I totally should, right now,” you reply. And then you head in and get everybody to gather together and say goodbye to you and Rowan.

“Drive safe,” Cassandra tells you.

“And keep your eyes open,” says Isaac. “Even if you’re in the middle of the woods, somebody might see you. Glamors if there’s any question at all, okay?”

“Bleh. Yeah, okay,” you say, begrudgingly.

Rowan snorts. “Dad, we’ll be fine.”

“You might be, but I’ll miss you,” says Harvey.

“I’ll miss you too,” says Rowan.

“No, I was talking to Sierra,” he replies.

“Haha, yesss,” you laugh.

Cassandra is a little hesitant in letting you and Ro head out. “Check in with home base every morning and night, don’t forget to take a lot of pictures, and if you get pulled over for whatever reason, call me,” she says, winking at you.

Ro rolls her eyes. “Goodness gracious mom, you don’t freak out this much when I walk out the door with my weight in ammo slung over my back,” she complains.

“That’s because I usually know where you’re going and what you’re fighting,” Cass replies. “Besides, I get a free pass to worry. I’m your mother, so deal with it.”

“Ugh. Let’s get out of here,” Rowan says to you, walking out to the car.

“Bye,” you say, waving to your peeps.

You pile in the SUV and away you go.

--

“We can go anywhere and do anything,” Rowan says, grinning like mad, and maybe speeding a little and taking the corners pretty hard as you drive off.
>>
>>40611531

“Well, not yet,” you say. “Gotta get our buds.”

“You know what I mean,” she says.

You nod an affirmative. “Freedom isn’t free. It’s priced by the gallon. Like. Gallons of gas. Because you’re not going anywhere on an empty tank.”

“Deep,” says Rowan.

Some driving later puts you at Vikrama’s house. You lean over and lay on the horn.

“Just a second let me text her,” says Rowan, fumbling with her phone. “There. She’s coming out.”

“Not good enough,” you say, slamming your hand again on the horn.

Fortunately, Vikrama appears a moment later with a backpack and a duffel bag, wearing a fat pair of aviator shades and chewing gum. Geeze, why don’t you have aviators?

She throws her duffel in the trunk, then hops in the middle seat, leaning forward between you and Ro. “Hey girls,” she says, blowing a bubble until it pops. “Are you ready for this?”

>You have another stick of gum on you?
>Only if you’re ready for nonstop rollercoaster of roadtrip stuff.
>Break out the onion dip and the potato chips – they’re under the seat. Then we’ll talk about being ready.
>No, I’m not. Could you go back inside? We’re going home.
>So, what’re you most looking forward to? Places? People? Magic?
>We’ve got her, go go go!
>I doubt you're ready for when we run into a dragon. Like, as in, a real dragon, not a dude high on weed who says he's a dragon and we're never really sure if he's a dragon or not, really.
>Other (?)
>>
>>40611564
>You have another stick of gum on you?
>We’ve got her, go go go!
>I doubt you're ready for when we run into a dragon. Like, as in, a real dragon, not a dude high on weed who says he's a dragon and we're never really sure if he's a dragon or not, really.
>>
>>40611564

>You have another stick of gum on you?
>No, I’m not. Could you go back inside? We’re going home.
>I doubt you're ready for when we run into a dragon. Like, as in, a real dragon, not a dude high on weed who says he's a dragon and we're never really sure if he's a dragon or not, really.
>>
>>40611564
>>We’ve got her, go go go!
>>I doubt you're ready for when we run into a dragon. Like, as in, a real dragon, not a dude high on weed who says he's a dragon and we're never really sure if he's a dragon or not, really.
>>
>>40611564
>We’ve got her, go go go!
>Attention Dragon One, package is secured
>heh, package
>>
>>40611531
>We’ve got her, go go go!
>So, what’re you most looking forward to? Places? People? Magic?
>>
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>>40611504
>hollow point
Wouldn't that be pointless against most everything we are up against?
>>
>>40611948
Depends on if they've got armor plating or not.

We've seen plenty of soft things that still take a bunch of bullets.

That and SoS + Hollow point is just scary.
>>
>>40611531
>Ro rolls her eyes. “Goodness gracious mom, you don’t freak out this much when I walk out the door with my weight in ammo slung over my back,” she complains.

I love this family.
>>
>>40611995
Still could go with ap rounds.

Fairly sure the law restricting them expired and didn't get renewed.
>>
>>40612087
Fairly sure Sierra doesn't give a fuck about the NFA or firearms regulations. She OCs a SMG on operations, can't get much more illegal than that.
>>
>>40611564
>Form our shadow into aviator glasses
>Get all indignant when someone inevitably says we look like a blind person
>>
>>40612087
I'm sure we've got plenty of both, anon. We loaded up a lot of ammunition yesterday.
>>
>>40611948
there are plenty of squishy demons out there that those would be better for. sometimes you need to put a steel core round through something like rahnthix, but there are bound to be plenty of softies for hollow points as well
>>
>>40612153
I think the Haltic lightning-shooting sword might technically be more illegal even if it OCing in doesn't freak people out as much as a gun.
>>
>>40612153
>can't get much more illegal than that.
What about CC an SMG? With tactical cop-killer dum-dum banana clips full of baby-seeking bullets and a thing that goes up?
>>
>>40612200

i dont see any laws or regulations banning the sale of magic swords. do you? well there you go
>>
>>40612153
If my gunnut of an uncle can figure out ways to get an assault rifle legally in Chicago, then you can pretty much get anything.
>>
>>40612223
There are tons of harsh as balls anti-Halth laws. If imported weapons aren't banned or at least heavily frowned upon, I will eat my ballhair.
>>
At this point aren't guns becoming underpowered since we are basically a hellfire flamethrower that can summon a murdercrab and drink souls?
>>
>>40612334
A: Guns work fine on mooks and don't cost PP.
B: We can always upgrade to an automatic shotgun with grenades in it.
>>
“Dragon one, package is secure,” you say, clicking your invisible radio in hand.

“Copy that dragon two, mother dragon is leaving the nest,” says Rowan, driving off back onto the road.

You turn around to get a look at Vikrama. “Gum tax,” you say, holding out a hand.

“I hate gum taxation without gum representation,” she says, forking over a stick of bubblegum, which you subsequently nosh on.

“Nonsense. You always be representin’,” you say, reveling in bubblegum sweetness.

“Why thank you, darling,” says Vik. “So what’s the ETA to dragon sightings?”

You snort. “I doubt you're ready for when we run into a dragon. Like, as in, a real dragon, not a dude high on weed who says he's a dragon and we're never really sure if he's a dragon or not, really.”

“Let’s be honest, he probably was dragon,” says Rowan.

You recoil in disgust from the assumption. “You weren’t even there!”

“I agree with Sierra,” Vikrama says. “The only dragons that count are unequivocal dragons. Otherwise we content ourselves with being in Bigfoot and Loch Ness Monster territory.”

“Both of which are probably real, except for Loch Ness,” says Rowan.

“We’d better see a dragon before we see Bigfoot,” you mutter.

Vikrama laughs. “We’ll see what we see, and it’ll be enough.”

“Pfft. You were the one wondering the ETA for dragon sightings,” you say.

“A lot can change in a few minutes,” she replies.

And a few minutes later, you’re at the Crowthers’ house.

“This is dragon two, beginning signal procedure for dragons four and five,” you say again into your invisible radio. You smash Rowan’s horn.

“I can do that, you know,” she says, attempting to rid herself of your interference.

You are not dissuaded. “Just let me do it!”
>>
>>40612413

Except Moriah and Xanissil come out a little bit quicker than Vikrama did.

You’re guessing Xan either borrowed some of Maviel’s clothes, or the eldest Crowther child helped her pick stuff out, cause she looks artsy as hell, with designer capris and a tank top. She’s even wearing a beret.

Okay, maybe Maviel was having a joke at her expense. But you think Moriah would tell Xan, if that’s what the deal was. Mori’s real like that.

Vikrama moves over, and Xan and Moriah pile in, Moriah giving herself plenty of space in her corner while Xanissil becomes the next middle-runner and expands to fill all available space. “Hail, friends,” your Zeshic School tutor says loudly, her beret appearing to be about ready to fall off her head at any second. Although, that’s how berets usually look to you, so that’s not really her problem, you guess.

Moriah, meanwhile, just presses her forehead to the glass and closes her eyes. You feel some tension from her – didn’t really notice it before you spent a week at her house with her, but she gets headaches sometimes. Something about how her necklace suppresses all her horrible death radiation.

>What’s with the beret? You look kind of ridiculous. Or... just ridiculous.
>Hey Xan Digging the beret. It’s sophisticated as hell.
> Vik, you’ve met Xan before, right? Or... not?
>Dragon one, final package acquired! Disengage, disengage!
>Your dad didn’t give you any grief, did he, Mori?
>Who’s pumped and what for?
>Beware, henceforth there be dragons.
>Other (?)
>>
>>40612334
simple. hellguns. mix halth sorcery with human engineering. Infernal sniper rifles, shadow grenades, blood seeking bullets, so on
>>
>>40612334
Guns are longer range than all out powers, higher damage on crit, boostable by [BE] skills and potentially other magics, are a better damage type matchup against several types of creatures than our own powers are (ballistics goes through inferni resistances better than fire or electricity), and don't cost PP. If we ever got anything much bigger than 9mm, they'd probably be a hell of a lot stronger than most of our powers at better ranges. There's a reason the Hallows, Ranthix, Orias, Satt, and damn near everyone uses guns.

So no. Guns aren't underpowered. If Sierra got gud at guns, they'd outperform all of her damage abilities in a lot of the situations she gets into. SoS + a gun + actually being able to hit the target is far more damage for far less PP than any of Sierra's other powers.
>>
>>40612439
>>40612439
>Hey Xan Digging the beret. It’s sophisticated as hell.
> Vik, you’ve met Xan before, right? Or... not?
>Your dad didn’t give you any grief, did he, Mori?
>Who’s pumped and what for?
>>
>>40612439

>Dragon one, final package acquired! Disengage, disengage!
>Hey Xan Digging the beret. It’s sophisticated as hell.
> Vik, you’ve met Xan before, right? Or... not?
>Your dad didn’t give you any grief, did he, Mori?
>>
>>40612439
>>Dragon one, final package acquired! Disengage, disengage!
>>Your dad didn’t give you any grief, did he, Mori?
>>
>>40612439
>Hey Xan Digging the beret. It’s sophisticated as hell.
> Vik, you’ve met Xan before, right? Or... not?
>Dragon one, final package acquired! Disengage, disengage!
>>
>>40612450
>blood seeking bullets
Or we could try aiming.
>>
>>40612439
>Dragon one, final package acquired! Disengage, disengage!
>Your dad didn’t give you any grief, did he, Mori?
> Vik, you’ve met Xan before, right? Or... not?
>>
>>40612518
>aiming
Pfft. That shits for suckers.

Who needs to aim when we can just get good at magic and have that do all the work?
>>
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>>40612582
>>
>>40612439
>Hey Xan Digging the beret. It’s sophisticated as hell.
> Vik, you’ve met Xan before, right? Or... not?
>>
>>40612582
Because that would make us run dry with magic that we could have used to EXPLODE.
think, anon.
>>
>>40612996
>EXPLODEing bullets
>which also self-aim
Go deeper, anon.
>>
Did we ever learn that landwell teleport thing? Sounds like it could be pretty handy if we ever find ourselves with the snaketongue shivers.
>>
>>40613202
Yes we did. It's how we got home from Canada.
>>
“Dragon one, final package in claw!” you shout in a panic. “Disengage, disengage!”

“Roger dodger, Dragon Two!” Ro stomps on the gas and gets you out of there.

“What game is this we’re playing?” Xanissil asks curiously, grabbing at her beret to keep it from falling off her head as the car shoots forward.

“It’s easy,” Rowan explains. “I’m Dragon 1, Sierra’s Dragon 2, Vik’s 3, you’re 4, and Moriah’s 5. And then whenever you say anything, you just pretend like you’re one of the guys from Top Gun.”

“I feel the need... the need for speed,” says Xanissil, her expression intent.

You snicker. Despite being in plane just a few months, Xan’s surprisingly adaptive when it comes to picking up cultural stuff.

“Exactly. You’ve got it!” says Ro.

Vikrama gives Xan a look over, at a loss. You can feel her curiosity from where you sit, but she doesn’t say anything, probably because of politeness.

“Hey Xan,” you say. “Digging the beret. It’s sophisticated as hell. Maviel help you out with everything?”

“Oh yes,” says Xan, smiling broadly. “She is a great source of wisdom on fashion.”

Rowan looks at her in the mirror. “Why a beret? I mean, it looks cute.”

“I desired to distinguish myself as one of experience, though not so stubbornly as to stick out,” she says, obviously having already put a lot of reasoning into her hat wear. She tilts her head slightly and holds a hand by her ear to accentuate her beret. “I have seen the soldiers wearing these – Maviel assisted me in purchasing one of my own.”

You refrain from smiling too much. “Oh. Yeah, I was wondering why I was getting that gruff veteran vibe from you today,” you say. You know. The gruff, kind of adorable artsy veteran vibe.

“Many seem to understand better who I am, now,” Xan says, smug in her triumph. “I have been treated with higher regard by all since I began wearing it.”

Vikrama is confused.

“Vik, you’ve met Xan before, right?” you ask. “Or... not?”
>>
>>40613562

“I would have remembered such a pleasure,” says Vikrama, smiling at Xan. “Xan. Is that short for Alexandra?”

Xan glances at you for direction.

“She’s cool,” you say.

“It is short for Xanissil,” she says, offering a hand. “I am Xanissil of Zhoath, of the creed of Them Who Bow to She That Commands. I am honored with her friendship, as well as the task of instructing Sierra in the arts of the original Zeshic School.”

“I’m Vikrama Bhatnagar,” she says, accepting the handshake. “I’m... also honored by Sierra’s friendship?” Vik is still confused, but she wisely takes it in stride. Eh. Maybe you need to let her a little bit more in the loop than she is. She’ll probably figure it out if she spends enough time with Xan, anyway.

“Then our interests align,” Xanissil says, crushing Vik’s hand too much in her grip. Neither Ranthix, nor his niece and nephew are really good with the whole point of handshakes.

With some effort, Vikrama manages to free her hand and take it back to herself. “So you’re Infernus, right?” she asks.

“I am,” says Xan. “How did you make me out?”

Vikrama looks at her a little more carefully. “You act like Ranthix,” she says. “And you look and sound a little like him, too. Are you related?”

“You are perceptive,” says Xan. “He is my mother’s brother.”
>>
>>40613584

They get to chatting, and while they do, you leave Rowan to her driving so you can focus on Moriah. She’s been kind of distant for the past few days, and you kind of want to see if you can get her to come out of her shell, especially given that you’re supposed to be having fun now. “Your dad didn’t give you any grief, did he?” you ask her, keeping your conversation on the far side of your chair so it’s just between you and her.

Moriah takes a second to register that you spoke to her. “No,” she says. But then she reconsiders. “A little. I’m here now.”

That’s kind of weird. You kind of want to know what’s up, but at the same time, you don’t want to press too hard. Moriah might not tell you anything anyway.

>What’s up with you? You’ve been kind of on and off the past week.
>Well, forget him. We’re our chaperones this trip, and that means you can do whatever you want.
>Something something everything’s going to be okay, something something moralizing wisdom.
>You know, Vikrama’s totally chill. I could break the whole demon thing to her if you want, and you could ditch the glamors.
>You want some Tylenol or something? I got a whole pack in my backpack.
>Other (?)
>>
>>40613611
>Well, forget him. We’re our chaperones this trip, and that means you can do whatever you want.
>>
>>40613611

>Well, forget him. We’re our chaperones this trip, and that means you can do whatever you want.
>Something something everything’s going to be okay, something something moralizing wisdom.
>>
>>40613611
>Well, forget him. We’re our chaperones this trip, and that means you can do whatever you want.
>You want some Tylenol or something? I got a whole pack in my backpack.
>>
>>40613611
>What’s up with you? You’ve been kind of on and off the past week.
>You know, Vikrama’s totally chill. I could break the whole demon thing to her if you want, and you could ditch the glamors.
>>
>>40613584
>Them Who Bow to She That Commands
Please tell me that sounds more badass in demonspeak. It sounds ridiculous in English.

>>40613611
>This trip is gonna be all fun and stuff. The sky is the limit and you'll be having a shinier rainbow before you've even realized that this metaphor is completely contrived.
>>
>>40613611
>Well, forget him. We’re our chaperones this trip, and that means you can do whatever you want.
>Something something everything’s going to be okay, something something moralizing wisdom.
>>
>>40613687

Thul'tal = those (that bow). She that commands is probably a mistranslation of the Heltic form of the word for Imperiate.

tl;dr. Xanissil is bad at English.
>>
>>40613766
>tl;dr. Xanissil is bad at English.
More like she's just good enough at English to do half-assed translations, rather than Ranthix, who just straight up doesn't even bother translating.
>>
>>40613800

I meant more along the lines that sometimes, translating doesn't actually aid comprehension. English is good at absorbing foreign words.

I've met a lot of people who translate too much because they don't have a good grasp of what they should and shouldn't translate.
>>
>>40613874
>English is good at absorbing foreign words.
Like if people tried to call sushi 'vinegar-rice' instead of just sushi. I get you.
>>
>>40613611
>Something something everything’s going to be okay, something something moralizing wisdom.
Oh sierra you
>>
>>40613611
"You know, I've got this blood magic stuff from Xan here, might help you heal.
>>
>>40613766
You've even thought about meanings for words? Damn, son. DAMN
>>
“Well, forget him,” you say. “We’re our chaperones this trip, and that means the sky’s the limit – which in turn means you’ll be tasting the rainbow and something something silver lining before you even realize I didn’t think ahead about where this metaphor was going,” you say.

Moriah lifts her head off the glass and smiles a tiny bit.

Looks like you’ve won.

“There we go,” you say, smiling at her. “But hey. If you need anything, you’ll let me know, right? I mean, you want me to talk to Vik for you, or if you want to OD on Tylenol to kill your headache, I can make it happen, if you know what I mean.”

Moriah crooks an eyebrow. “...do I?”

“Shh. You do,” you reassure her.

“If you say so,” she says, still smiling as she replaces her head on the glass.

More sure on that front, you listen in to the conversation long enough to get back in. Vikrama’s playing twenty questions with Xan, except instead of twenty, it’s more like infinity.

Welp. Might as well join in.

--

Hours later, you are on the road driving past rolling hills with no cities in sight. Only vinyards and farmland for as far as the eye can see. The grass is dry and yellow under the summer sun, and there’s bright orange California Poppies popping up all over the place.

“It can’t seriously be illegal to pick poppies,” you say.

“They’re the state flower,” says Rowan. “They must be protected.”
>>
>>40614341

“From what? Poppy poachers?” you ask.

“From the hubris of man,” says Vikrama.

“Okay, let me tell you why that’s BS,” you say. You point at a nearby hill side as you drive by. “Assume we stopped and picked a dozen each. We broke the law, right?”

“Maybe?” says Rowan.

“Nobody’s ever going to know or figure it out,” you say. “It’s like making a rule that, when I’m not looking, don’t make faces at me. I mean, maybe it’s polite, but there’s no way to make people do it, cause you have no idea what they’re doing.”

“The poppy picking law is a myth,” says Moriah. She’s recovered from her headache, a little. Time will do that. “Unenforceable regulations aren’t just. They violate the rule of law.”

Xanissil is fed up with your tangent. “Can we not speak of something other than poppy politics? Or do anything else at all, really.”

“Anything?” Vikrama asks, sounding too eager.

Xan tackles the challenge head on. “Yes. Anything. I would rather do anything. Should we jump off a cliff? I would rather do that.”

>No need to pump the drama. How about we do music? (Fumble for your phone and the music therein)
>No. Poppies forever. In fact, let’s stick it to the man, right now, even if it is a myth. Ro, pull over.
>Xan has a point. Ro, drive off a cliff.
>So... are we in Fresno yet?
>Wait. The poppy law thing isn’t real?
>How about we rather get some food? I’m a hungering for a eatering.
>Other (?)
>>
>>40614372
>>No. Poppies forever. In fact, let’s stick it to the man, right now, even if it is a myth. Ro, pull over.
>How about we rather get some food? I’m a hungering for a eatering.
>>
>>40614372
>>No. Poppies forever. In fact, let’s stick it to the man, right now, even if it is a myth. Ro, pull over.
>>
>>40614372
>Xan has a point. Ro, drive off a cliff.
>So... are we in Fresno yet?
>>
>>40614372
>>How about we rather get some food? I’m a hungering for a eatering.
>>
>>40614372
>Xan has a point. Ro, drive off a cliff.
>How about we rather get some food? I’m a hungering for a eatering.
>>
>>40614372
>Wait. The poppy law thing isn’t real?
>Suddenly I care a lot less about poppies.
>Time for hipster music. (find that CD we got from the place and slam that bad boy into the thing)
>>
>>40614372
>>Xan has a point. Ro, drive off a cliff.
>>So... are we in Fresno yet?
>>
>>40614372
>>No. Poppies forever. In fact, let’s stick it to the man, right now, even if it is a myth. Ro, pull over.
>>
>>40614372
>Xan has a point. Ro, drive off a cliff.
>No. Poppies forever. In fact, let’s stick it to the man, right now, even if it is a myth. Ro, pull over.
>Other: We'll stretch a little. In the field of poppies.
>>
>>40614320

I might not do a lot of things, but I can at least do those things consistently.

Also, once you learn another language, it's actually starts to get pretty easy to make up new words and the reasoning behind them.
>>
>>40614372
>Xan has a point. Ro, drive off a cliff.
>So... are we in Fresno yet?

>How about we rather get some food? I’m a hungering for a eatering.
>>
>>40614372
>Xan has a point. Ro, drive off a cliff.
>So... are we in Fresno yet?
>>
>>40614372
>Actually the cliff thing makes me curious about things.
>Ro, you're the only one here who can fly. Do you think I'd be able to use my shadow as a viable parachute?
We really should go base jumping at some point on this trip.
>>
>>40614372
>>Wait. The poppy law thing isn’t real?
>>How about we rather get some food? I’m a hungering for a eatering.
>>
So did we ever find out what those magic things we got from that raid with Sat were?
>>
>>40614584
Nope. I still don't have half a clue what the fancy jeweled beetleman mace does. Something about projecting its swings? I dunno.
>>
>>40614613
That's precisely what it does. If you swing it just right, things beyond it's normal reach get knocked over. We never really went into a lot of detail with.
>>
>>40614613
Yeah, it was answered in the ask fm (because I asked actually), but when you swing it the right way the attack lands about ten feet away from the actual weapon. Speaking of which I kinda hope we gave it to Ro, seems like it would be excellent for fly by attacks
>>
>>40611564
>a fat pair of aviator shades and chewing gum. Geeze, why don’t you have aviators?
Damn, so cool.
>>
>>40614753
Obviously Vik x Xan otp
>>
>>40614782
Speaking of Xan, she's pretty cute
>>
>>40614715
Her sword is so much better than the mace it's not even funny.

>-Aleopher-
>Lionel's Holy blade of truth, bequeathed to Rowan as an inheritance.
>Standard Use: 3d4 Slashing damage.
>Demonbane: Wounds inflicted against demons burn with pain, and are more difficult to regenerate than average wounds.
>Loyalty: Aleopher may not be used against the owner, nor any the blade judges that the owner would refuse to attack.
>Spell resistance: The blade resists any arcane forces or spells which might render it unusable by the wielder, or force it out of hand.
>Stability: When the wielder is standing (or flying), she is afforded leverage and balance for attack or defense, even in adverse or otherwise compromising positions. The user does not suffer attack penalties.
>Immutable: The blade persists in its current state, immune to changing conditions such as moisture, acid, or heat.
>>
>>40614808
Well yeah, but it doesn't have ten extra feet of reach, which could be important when attacking from the sky, of course she's going to use her sword otherwise.

Also, Hawk Girl cosplay
>>
>>40614851
What damage dice does the mace have?
>>
>>40614851
When attacking from the sky, it's more important to be able to actually swing the damn weapon without it fucking up your movements. It's better to charge in with the Stability bonus on the sword than it is to charge in and swing 10ft sooner with the mace's Reach only to stumble and fuck up.

The mace is trash, used by trashy beetlemen. If Ro wanted it then she would have asked for it. The only niche it even kind of fills is letting Sierra smash dudes in the head from sneak attacks since it'd be fairly silent if we SoS it and it applies to the ranged strike.
>>
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>>40614851
>Hawk Girl cosplay
Why bother
>>
>>40614851
>>40614903
The mace would be useful if we could figure out how to take the enchant it has and apply it to other things. Sticking a ranged strike on our switchblade would be pretty good. The mace itself is bad.
>>
>>40614940
>Apply the mace enchant to a car
>It has a snowplow of force 10ft in front of it
>Drive around mowing things down
>>
>>40614985
>apply the mace enchant to mah dick
>have a ten foot long dick
>dick some chocolate elves
>>
“Xan has a point. Ro, drive off a cliff,” you direct.

Rowan peers around and makes a show of checking her mirrors. “Ain’t naught but hills, mam,” she says, affecting some British accent.

“Ugh. Well, is anybody hungry?” A passing sign catches your attention with the promise of Carl’s Junior super-burgers. Only the best for your stomach.

“I could eat something,” says Moriah.

Actually, knowing Moriah, she probably hasn’t eaten anything yet all day. You decide stopping is now mandatory. “That’s good enough for me, cause I’m a hungering for an eatering.”

Xan frowns. “What is an eatering?”

“Sierra-speak,” says Ro. “Honestly, you should know this by now if you spend that much time with her.”

“Nah,” you say, “I take into account my audience before I get my verbal juices pumping.”

Vikrama sticks out her tongue. “Gross.”

“You’re gross,” you counter.

She slaps a hand over her heart. “You wound me.”

One exit and drive through later, you’re outside the freeway-side Carl’s Junior eating out, on the verge of some weedy little town, cramming a half-pound Most American Thickburger down your maw – it is a hamburger which contains all of the following: hamburger, a sliced hotdog, kettle-fried potato chips, and a fresh-baked bun. It’s pretty good, you guess, even if it is so outlandish that you’ll probably brag about it later and nobody will know if you’re being serious or not.

Anyway, you finish before anybody else does much more than pick around at their food, simultaneously basking and cowering from the heat reflected up from the sidewalk. Basking, because you like the warmth, cowering, because even the dinky plastic umbrella overhead only adds a couple minutes before your skin starts burning.
>>
>>40614985
Apply it to a certain bike and then another enchantment that makes the force five times the bike's actual mass. Yes
>>
>>40615029
You wouldn't feel anything. May as well just use a broom.
>>
>>40615033

You chomp on your order of fries while you wait for everybody else to play catchup, silently keeping tack of how long you have before suffering at the hand of the sun. In the not-so-distant distance, just on the other side of the empty two lane road that runs by the restaurant, there is an empty field – in fact, it’s so empty, poppies are growing all over the place in it.

“Where do you put it all?” Vikrama asks you, just as she finishes ranching up her chicken sandwich.

“It’s not an answer you want to hear,” says Ro, biting into her own burger. Meanwhile, Xan and Moriah are occupied by their respective foods.

But you’re still staring at the poppies. Have you ever even picked poppies before?

>Put all what?
>I’m going to go get some of those poppies, I guess, since it’s not illegal anymore.
>>You guys should come too, you know, if you want.
>You guys eat so slow.
>Ugh. Xan, a salad? Really?
>Let’s take this road on the show, Fresno’s not going to drive to itself.
>Other (?)
>>
>>40615033
>Basking, because you like the warmth, cowering, because even the dinky plastic umbrella overhead only adds a couple minutes before your skin starts burning.

I love the ironies of Sierra's existence, like we can take a bath in napalm and be fine, yet burn up twenty minutes under the sun
>>
>>40615045
>I'm fairly sure at least half of my body doesn't conform to things like "three dimensions"
>>
>>40615045
>Put all what?
>I’m going to go get some of those poppies, I guess, since it’s not illegal anymore.
>>You guys should come too, you know, if you want.
>You guys eat so slow.
>Ugh. Xan, a salad? Really?
>>
>>40615045
>Put all what?
>You think you can get a hot bod like this without sustenance?
>I’m going to go get some of those poppies, I guess, since it’s not illegal anymore.

I wonder if getting more from the Infernus tree would help Sierra fight sunburn.
>>
>>40615045
>You guys eat so slow.
>I’m going to go get some of those poppies, I guess, since it’s not illegal anymore.

And this >>40615069
>>
>>40615045
>Put all what?
>I'm going to go get some of those poppies, I guess, since it's not illegal anymore.
>>You guys should come too, you know, if you want.
>>
>>40615045
>Put all what?
>I’m going to go get some of those poppies, I guess, since it’s not illegal anymore.
>>
>>40615108
Got to add >>40615069 to that.

Fucking noice
>>
>>40615045
>I was racing to eat the burger before the sun eats me.
Also, there's no way Languid is throwing this poppy stuff at us unless it means something. Sierra's probably obsessed with the things because <insert repressed childhood memory here>.
>>
>>40615045
>>>Let’s take this road on the show, Fresno’s not going to drive to itself.
>>
Hey we do have Reeber with us right?
>>
>>40615138
Maybe she just really likes flowers? She seemed to enjoy the Crowther's secret garden a lot.

Also, poppy seeds.
>>
>>40615219

Uh. Yes.
>>
>>40615045
>Put all what?
>I’m going to go get some of those poppies, I guess, since it’s not illegal anymore.

also Crusty if you are reading this, update your Ask you tea swilling faggot, - love anon
>>
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>>40615231
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>>40615231
Well at least you aren't the only one who forgot.
>>
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>>40615231
What'd we feed Reeber?
>>
>>40615231
He's just napping in the back, right?
>>
>>40615045
>Bring Reeber who we've definitely had with us from the very start of the trip and was just unusually quiet with us into the poppy field.
>>
>>40615231
>>40615312
Yeah no dogs are totally chill during car trips, they don't get excited or fussy like small children. Not at all
>>
You’re only half paying attention to what’s begin talked about, and half paying attention to Reeber’s tongue licking at your greasy fingers under the table. “Put all what?” you ask, blinking and looking at Vikrama.

“You just ate a pound of meat,” she says, laughing incredulously, “and this isn’t the first time. Cherry Coke floats? Entire pizzas gone missing in action. Does any of this ring a bell?”

“Bells are... ringing,” you say, trying to follow her logic. “Oh. Well, I’m a growing girl.”

“I haven’t seen a single part of you grow over the past six months,” says Vik.

But now you are aware of the attack, and you can defend yourself. It’s not like you do stuff on purpose, it just happens. Like eating fast – since you’re outside, you had to make sure to eat your burger before the sun ate you. “You think you get a hot bod like this without putting any fuel in the tank?” You gesture to the hot bod in question. “These curves ain’t cheap.”

Rowan snorts, and soda comes bubbling up her nose. “Goodness gracious,” she splutters, half choking.

“Don’t die,” you advise her.

“All that fuel has to go somewhere,” says Vikrama.

“Probably goes straight to my shadow,” you say, posing your shadow to show it off a little, rolling up your shadow sleeve and flexing a shadow bicep. “Just check my opacity. Unf.”

Vikrama chuckles. “That’s so wrong,” she says.

“Whatevs,” you say. “You worry about eating your food. I’m going to go pop over into that field of poppies and get some, I guess, since it’s not illegal anymore.”

Moriah takes a noisy sip of her orange soda. “It was never illegal in the first place,” she reminds you.

But you’ve already left, and you’ve summoned Reeber to your side with a pat on the thigh. You and your hound head across the road and step through the field, avoiding prickly weeds and honing in on the nearest patch of poppies.

Reeber leaps around through the brush, chasing a couple butterflies.
>>
>>40615597

You let him go about his business, and sit Indian style in the grass, within reach of a dozen or so of the best little orange buds.

Maybe they should call them Orange Buds or something, cause they’re kind of like little people or something. Or not? Whatever, your job’s just to get the poppies, not question the status quo.

You make sure nobody’s nearby, then let your claws out so you can get clean cuts on your targets. Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before, except with bigger poppies. Or... well, honestly, you were probably just a lot smaller.

You remember a time Mom and Dad took you and Nev to someplace with lots of tall grass and lots of huge poppies. And then there were sandwiches. And... that’s all you remember. It’s kind of hazy, more like an impression than something you actually recall.

You realize you have a whole bunch of poppies in your claws. You survey the harvest. “Them’s some flowers right here,” you observe.

The sun beats down overhead. And you’ve probably been out too long. You can almost feel the skin on the back of your neck glowing. Dammit.

You heard Rowan shouting back from the restaurant. “Hey Sierra, you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you call back. You stand, clutch your bounty in one hand and brush yourself off with the other.

You whistle for Reeber to come back to your side, and head back to the place, sticking a poppy behind your ear as you go.

--End Part 111--
>>
I'll be out of town for a week. Not sure if I'll have time or a connection to run. Next thread will be more eventful, but I enjoyed doing more of an SOL thread with you guys.
>>
>>40615616
Peace
>>
>>40615616
See you later, Space Cowboy.
>>
>>40615609
>End

Noooo, my life is misery until next time! Thanks for the Reeber Quest, m8
>>
>>40615616
See ya in a week, I guess.
>>
>>40615616
I enjoy it too, to a degree, but haven't the last several threads been SOL?
>>
>>40615616
Thanks for running, mate.
>>
>>40615616
Thanks for running!
>>
>>40615616
Some like action more but it's nice to have a downtime periods too, a kind of normalcy. Tickles my funny bone
>>
>>40615616
Looking forward to the next part, Languid. Thanks for the run.
>>
>>40615609
>ticking a poppy behind your ear as you go.
Sierra a cute

Have fun Languid. Hopefully.
>>
>>40615616
>I'll be out of town for a week.
How does a lawn leave town?
>>
>>40619000
it grows out of it?
>>
>>40619080
>it's expanding
>>
>>40619000
As a god he can occupy the space of any lawn.
>>
Thanks for running, gr8 thread



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