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File: OP42.gif (6.86 MB, 1750x1250)
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"You might be a smart girl, but you aren't a lucky one"

You play as Delilah, an unfortunate young girl going through tough times.

Right now, we are currently playing as Lawrence!
=Links and Information=
Archives:

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=aCowboyNamedSue

Thanks to an anon, here is the pastebin of just the text. With threads purposely being misarchived, this should be available and accessible instead:
Melancholic Quest Collection 1 (1-4): http://pastebin.com/hTK0fQmd
Melancholic Quest Collection 2: http://pastebin.com/cX4HC6Q9
Melancholic Quest Collection 3: http://pastebin.com/sTuR8xJv
Melancholic Quest Collection 4: http://pastebin.com/RPwa7nEt
Melancholic Quest Collection 5: http://pastebin.com/DJ71TtFc
Melancholic Quest Collection 6: http://pastebin.com/xxCdZfx6
Melancholic Quest Collection 7: http://pastebin.com/7skcyeX0

Quick Glance (SPOILERS) The quick Who is Who and what Delilah has. Mostly accurate.:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1wXNWJdAKuqw-btrHDbvSkN5Gj3QhdY28XNKRUXMLHu0/edit#heading=h.8xfgre7nxqty

Twitter; @Cowboy_Sue
Discord; https://discord.gg/8CCdcQ3 <--updated to be working
Chat room with me and other players. I answer questions, post sketches, and act cheeky.
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You whisper some questions to Crockett, letting him know what you think should happen. He nods and returns to his seat, bringing out his notebook. "Well then, if you don't mind Lang, I'd like to ask you a few quick questions." he says, initially returned with silence. Somewhat irritated, Lang gestures for him to start asking.


"Now, it'd be nice if you gave me all honest answers here," Crockett says as he settles into his seat, "But if you don't know everything that's fine, don't go making up something cause you think it's what I want to hear, or that I need an explanation from you. Rather not have any false leads or anything else to muddy this up."

"I know how this goes, you don't have to speak to me like I'm a civilian."

"Just going through the formalities. I think what I'd like to know first is how you ended up at the Talbot's today. Normally, running to family wouldn't be the smartest choice but Lawrence has been a bit estranged from them for the past few years, and it seems like you folks came in pretty prepared." As he speaks, notes are jotted down on the page and pause only to wait for Lang's answer.


"I haven't really been involved in a lot of this, so I don't know what you're expecting to get out of me..." Lang grumbles, "But from what I could tell, the man, Mr. Talbot? He called in from a paper, was wanting some information about her." She gestures at Delilah, not picking up how uncomfortable the conversation had already started to make her. "I think he was calling to try and ask who was looking for her, or who she was, or something along those lines. Told him that they wanted to come down and ask him some questions in person, but they managed to convince him to get into the car, one way or another."

"So... they kidnapped him." Palmer says.


"You really think he was going willingly through any of it? I got called in about the same time. Done some work before, usually either digging up paperwork or hiding it, but today was kinda a first. If I'd known it'd go to shit so quick..." she stops a moment to collect her thoughts, Delilah looking down to the floor as she tries not to pay too much attention. "All I knew is that I was supposed to help get someone back, but I wasn't supposed to be part of the negotiations, if you could call it that. Was supposed to be there for stuff like security, making sure you guys weren't better prepared than them."

Crockett stops writing and asks, "That why you were snooping around outside?"

"And to make sure you guys didn't have a clear way out, case you tried to leave on foot. Don't know why he was so worried about that, but if I was getting paid for it then who am I to complain."


"You weren't just paid in money, were you?" Palmer asks, eyeing the other officer.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I've got a few years on you. Isn't hard to guess what's got you all worked up and sweating in the middle of winter."
>>
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"Don't you try pulling that on me-" Lang starts to snap, but Crockett clears his throat to catch their attentions.


"Excuse me ladies, I'd like to stay on track right now if you don't mind..." Both officers keep their mouths shut, but the growing tension between them rises. "So, from what I can gather, Mr. Talbot called in and they rolled up in the welcome wagon and made him show the way home... They do that for everyone? Seems a bit...tedious."


"They have big guy in the back on record, and it's not exactly a common name. If you got someone calling in with it, not really hard to put two and two together. Meeting him in person seemed to be part of the standard, can't really speak for the whole uh, abduction part." Lang seems content with glaring out the window now, but as long as she answers then it doesn't matter how much she sulks.


"I'm guessing that Hanson man was busy trailing us during all this," Crockett mummers, "Know anything about that?"

"That old guy? Quiet guy, but from what I heard he can be a mean son of a bitch. Never heard him curse or raise his voice around me, but damn if it didn't scare the shit out me every time he had something to say. He just has this way about him, feels like he could snap a guy's neck and not even think about it."


"He's got a mean punch, let me tell you..." Hand coming up to rub over his face, Crockett doesn't need a reminder of where those bruises came from.

"Don't know who scares me more, him or his boss-"

Palmer hushes her quickly, "Psst, hey. Keep the rest of that for later." Lang doesn't take well to this, especially coming from her again.

"What's your problem? You guys are asking me questions, and now you're hushing me? The hell is that?"


"You really don't know what's going on, do you?" snarls Palmer, who you can guess has been briefed on the circumstances. "You even consider what kinda guy would hire you to help with kidnapping, or are you really just desperate to line your pockets?"

"You don't know me- Besides, what about you? This isn't in the books, far as I know you're doing the same as me."

Delilah turns around, peeking her face over the seat between the women. "P-Please don't argue... Can we just get Lawrence some help...?" They accept her request, but the tension in the front seat is thick enough to cut with a knife. She returns facing forward, watching you worried.


When you get to Lang's uncle, you'll be able to ask questions without Delilah around. It would be good to start thinking of some now,
>>
>>1470789

How much would he be willing to pay to get a piece of that sweet sweet Delilah pussy?
>>
>>1470789
Start at the beginning, how did she get into Bower's employ. Does Bower contact her directly or through a proxy, and does she ever meet up with him or his goons. Basically try to discern if there's a way we could trick and capture one of them.

Find out whether she ever looked at any of the paperwork she made disappear, had any idea what she helped Bower do.

If she has the faintest idea why Bower would want to kidnap a little girl.
>>
You motion for Crockett to hand over his notebook, scrawling down some questions that come to mind in the meantime.

Lang gives the directions to Palmer, both of them managing somehow to keep civil. From where you lay in the seat, you watch the landscape pass by in the window gathering snowflakes. You've gone out of town, the road looking to be one of the lesser taken paths to get back to the city. It's surprising when the first building passes so early, others appearing more frequently afterwards. It hasn't been nearly long enough to get back, but Lang points out a small road to take. You bear through the bumps, noticing that while houses pass by more frequently, they're sparse and spread out in less of an organized manner. Cheap but newer houses, it looks like they were put up where ever there was empty space. A tiny grocer passes by, or so you have to guess. The sign up front displays its name in accented letters that you can't quite read, a few older cars parked in what space it has to offer.


"Where are we?" Delilah asks, not recognizing what lays outside, "Is this another town? There's only a couple of houses here."

"Not exactly," says Palmer, coming to a stop at a rare stop sign. "It's kind of like a suburb, if it was sunnier you could see the bridge from a few different places from here. After people started to return from Vietnam, lotta folks were wanting to live out and away from the hustle and bustle of city life. There's a few others pocketed around, but this one is a bit special. Most people here immigrated over, started a bit of their own community here. We've had to send a few cars down here to break up some rather nasty fights."


"It doesn't happen that often." Lang interrupts, coming to the defense, "Most crime down here happens thanks to punks trying to act tough and forming gangs, but everyone else try to keep to themselves. A lot are just blue collar workers trying to support their families, they-"

"Easy easy, I get it. Punks are punks, doesn't matter where they come from."

Lang grimaces, embarrassed about getting so worked up and holding her head again. "Anyways, we're almost there. There'll be an alley you can pull through and park in the back..."

...


Palmer finally pulls through a makeshift alley, a dirt road dug out between a sparse row of houses. Chicken coops in the backyard next door help to help the vehicle once she parks, a dormant vegetable garden right next to the tires. Crockett helps you out, Delilah staying in till otherwise told. Lang gets accompanied to the backdoor, knocking till an older man answers. When he speaks, it doesn't take long to realize that it's entirely in Vietnamese. His niece answers back in the same language, but much slower and not quite as fluently. He looks surprised as she explains the situation, butting into the conversation with irritated gestures. Lang continues talking, pointing back to where you lean against the car.
>>
It seems like he might deny her request, to tell her that he can't do this. This certainly isn't a hospital by any means, just a skinny two story home trying to make it through the winter. Your vision blackens out for a moment, the numbing feeling of being light headed taking over. Delilah scrambles out of the backseat, coming to help keep you up just in case. Lang points in your direction again, and the longer she talks the softer her uncle's face becomes. It takes some more convincing, but he finally waves for the group to come in.


Right as you enter the house, the smell of unfamiliar spices and smells hit you. They aren't bad, but rather something that reminds you this is new territory. Lang waits by the door, shuffling everyone into the tiled kitchen and securing the door behind Palmer. Her uncle waits for her to return, saying something to her once more before approaching you. It doesn't take long for him to figure out what's wrong, Lang trying to further explain it to him.


"Okay, yes. I take care of." he says, pointing at the wound and then going towards the doorway leading to the rest of the house. You have to walk slow, but Delilah makes sure to keep a close step behind. A cramped living room with an older television set plays a fuzzy picture, an even older woman asleep on the couch with two young children looking over at the new entrance. "You stay here." This time talking to Delilah, he points over to the girls that are less than half her age. "Will fix him."

"I'll stay with you." Palmer says with a hand on her shoulder, separating Delilah away so that you can be attended to. She looks back, wanting to be right there while you're being attended to.


The older of the girls sits up from where she was laying on the ground, speaking in clearer English. "Do you like cartoons?"

You trust that Delilah will be taken care of, having no other choice but to follow the man once more as he makes you follow further into his home. Black and white photos cover many spaces of the wall, to the point of many overlapping. There are trinkets here and there to take up empty space, many of them foreign in deign and meaning. Radiators keep the home almost too warm, but at the patched up holes and cracks in the wall it's obvious that this is to make sure the cold stays outside.


"Here. Sit here." You had expected to be placed in one of the bedrooms, but are surprised when you see a rickety sink placed in the room and rolling trays pushed against the wall. Several chairs are also in the room, as with boxes of supplies marked down in his native tongue. Made to sit in the bed, he starts to remove your shirt rather than asking you to remove it.
>>
"You can probably guess it, but this is my uncle. Dr. Tuan, he treats people in his home." Lang explains, leaning against one of the walls.

"Not that I'm going to raise a stink about it, but licenced?"

"Yes yes yes!" Tuan announces, taking a look at the drying blood caked to your skin, "All legal. Please do not arrest."


"Hey, long as you fix him up. Or, at least make sure he won't pass out during the car ride. He took a rather nasty hit, came from my gun," Crockett watches Tuan get to work, the doctor putting on gloves and getting his needed supplies. "Least it says me the headache of trying to track down what kinda gun the bullet came from, don't envy the guys who gotta do that kinda stuff. Was probably hoping that you'd get checked into a hospital somewhere, then it'd been a race to see who got to you first."


Tuan comes back over to you, pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Here. Take. For pain." You swallow them down easily and he pulls up his tray of tools, ready to get to work.

"We really appreciate you doing this sir. Hope you don't mind, but I'd like to ask your niece some questions in the mean time." As he talks, you can't help but Lang throwing back some pills of her own, standing where her uncle can't see.

"Let's get this over with..." she mumbles, taking a chair.

...


Even with the pain pills, you flinch and try to endure the touches on your shoulder as Crockett continues his interview from earlier.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to start from the beginning..." he starts, looking at the pages in his book, "You've worked with Bower before, right?"


"A bit, never anything like this. Like I said before, it was mostly messing with records and information, finding some stuff if he needed it."

"And how'd you first come in contact with him for this sorta stuff?"

"Wasn't from work, believe it or not. Couple of years ago, I got into pretty terrible car accident. Truck slid through a light, slammed right into my squad car. Broke a bunch of bones, little bit of internal damage and... well, a lot of meds for it. And after everything healed up I uh, I didn't really want to give up the stuff they had me on for so long." As Lang says this Tuan adds something you can't understand, earning a snappy response in return.
>>
"I'm not judging, I'd just like to get this all in order." Crockett says to get the conversation back on track.


"Right so, had a doctor friend that was helping me on the down low, but turns out I wasn't the only one he was doing this for. He got thrown behind bars, and I was needing a new supplier. I'd gotten wind that this Bower guy was pretty good at giving those kind of favors, so I took the chance. Talked with him, told him about what had happened... he really seemed to like that I was a police officer. Gave me what I needed, and all I needed to do was return his 'kindness' when he asked. Son of a bitch was so polite in the beginning, and I knew some of the other people around me were also working dirty so I really didn't care. Then couple days ago, he says he would need me for something different...didn't even get a chance to try and say no. Threatened to cut off my cash and meds if I didn't do this, so I just... I just did it."

"Those other favors you helped him with..." he's quick to write down what she says, flipping to the next page, "Any idea what they were for? What kinda stuff did you make 'disappear'?"


"Tried my best to not look too deep in to it. I've heard enough stories of people sticking their nose too far and ending up at the bottom of the lake. But from what I did pay attention to..." she closes her eyes, trying to remember, "Sometimes I would change up or get rid of testimonies, usually for shady stuff like slipping medication under the table, I think maybe one or two about possible malpractice."

"Remember any of them specifically?"


"Didn't do them too often, but last one I did was a couple weeks ago. Was a witness report from some shut-in, some old woman who didn't leave her apartment often. She called in one night cause she saw what she thought was a breaking and entering in a room down the hall. Didn't really matter later anyways, the floor ended up catching on fire. The description she gave sure as hell didn't match Bower either, but for all I know he was just doing another favor for someone."

Crockett is feverishly writing this all down, not wanting to miss a single detail. "Got a name for this lady?"


"Er, a name? I dunno, something like Beverly Withers or something. Soon as I did the deed I tried to keep my distance from anything related to it, was just another side job for me."

"Hold still." Tuan is holding you in place as he cleans the opening, you forced to bite down on a leather strap he handed over in order to stay quiet. You're doing the best you can to listen to every word Lang says, thankful that this is getting written down.
>>
"So from what I can tell, you were directed over to Bower, and in return for payment and medication you toyed around with records. Then he calls you down to help with this today..." he sets the book down in his lap now, "You have any idea what it was for?"


"Not really. I didn't actually talk to Bower much this time around, it was mostly with Hanson. Honestly, I thought that girl was his granddaughter or niece or something, made it sound like she was a runaway. And of course they didn't fail to mention who she was with, who I'm really starting to doubt is this evil abductor angle they gave me."

"Didn't it strike you odd that a custody case would have guns involved?"

"Actually, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. I don't know every detail of the original plan, but it sure as hell wasn't whatever happened back there."

"What do you mean? What went different?"


"Bower was never supposed to come along. He's not really the kind that helps out with the grunt work like this, but I guess he was persistent about it. He had to be there, had to come along. Woulda blown a fucking gasket if he didn't. Don't get me wrong, he was weird before. But this..." Lang's lips thin as she pauses for thought, "Was like watching some deranged kid throw a tantrum. Really let himself go since I last saw him, which was only like... two months ago. Hard to believe that guy is a doctor, couldn't stop talking to himself the whole time. Saying stuff like he needs her, that he'd like...die without this girl. He'd had these chest pains for a while, figured the fat bastard was finally having a heart attack. Kept walking around, but damn if he didn't look like absolute shit. Figured it might been something weird with old age too, but it didn't really get violent or, I guess you could say crazy. He only got like that after he got in the house."

"After? What was different?"
>>
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"He'd be talking to himself and ordering his guys around, but he wasn't...I dunno as erratic? There were a lot of bad and weird decisions he insisted on, but soon as he stepped into the house it's like he finally snapped. Don't think any of his bodyguards were really ready for it either, even caught the old guy by surprise. Tch... " With a sigh, Lang leans back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest. "Fucked up, ain't it? And here I am, worried now cause my neck is on the chopping block. Selfish piece of shit I am."

Crockett is busy getting this down, verifying certain parts of information with her. Tuan starts wrapping up your shoulder and chest, gauze covering the hole left behind in your shoulder. Further attention will be needed later, but it's not on your mind right now. Instead you're going over what Lang has said, an unsettling chill creeping up the back of your neck.

"Ah. Big man. Ran out." Tuan makes you hold the end of the bandage in place, needing a pin to fasten it in place now. "Stay here. Will fix." He goes to search for what he needs, Crockett looking over his notes. The pain isn't as bad as before, but your heart isn't beating the way it should either.


>Mention the chest pains to Crockett
>Ask Tuan for some extra painkillers, just in case
>Don't let anyone else know, keep it a secret
>Write-in
>>
>>1473043
>Mention the chest pains to Crockett
Maybe it's just a coincidence, it's not like she's been... feeding on Bower.
>>
>>1473043
>Mention the chest pains to Crockett.
>>
>>1473043
>Mention the chest pains to Crockett.

>>1473141
Lawrence has been troubled by it for a while hasn't he? Even before Delilah started feeding from him more regularly if I recall
>>
>>1473847
Pretty much, could probably have said "Maybe it's all just a coincidence" to infer the seeming relation of it all, but yeah.
>>
"Here!" Tuan calls you to attention as he fastens the bandage into place, readying you for travel once more. "Keep arm down. Keep still. Okay? Eat. Rest, no lifting." You nod at his instructions and sit up, hearing the soft snores from where Lang sits.

"Wish I could do the same..." The notebook returns to Crockett's coat, rising up from his seat. "Really think you should put that back on?" he asks, eyeing your shirt as you pull it in front of you. Between the burnt hole and the dried blood, you already know that it would not be a smart choice.


"Need keep chest clean," Tuan says as he backs up to the door, "Will look you shirt. Stay." You doubt that he would have anything around the house that would fit you, but the gesture is appreciated. Starting to rise, you notice how tired you really feel and opt to keep sitting till he returns.

Crockett walks over to the sink, taking the initiative to clean his face up finally. "Gonna sleep good tonight buddy," he says, wincing as he touches over a bruise, "Got rooms already set up. They're a bit boring right now but I'm sure all you really want right now is a bed. And then we'll ah,..." Pausing to dry his face now, Crockett just shrugs. "We'll see where we go from there."


As he speaks, your hand comes to feel along the line of gauze cutting across your chest. The layer keeps you from feeling it against your fingertips, but you already know the erratic heartbeat underneath.

"Bower looked terrible. To be honest, I barely recognized him. Swear I could smell him from across the room..." With a forced chuckle and a scoff, Crockett walks away from the sink. "Maybe we'll catch a break, and the bastard's heart will give out. Not sure if I want that or see him rot behind some bars for the rest of his miserable life."


"I've-" you stop short, voice cracking from the start. Clear your throat, and start again. "I've...had pains. All here...and here." Your hand gestures over your center, stopping on the left part of your chest.

His eyebrow cocks up, Crockett standing at full attention now. "This something recent that's been happening?"

"Been getting...worse. Don't know...what is." You start to feel uncomfortable as he looks you over, and for a second you swear there was a hint of a glare.


"Well..., far as I can tell, if I had to wager a guess...," Crockett manages to drop the tension from around him in a mere moment, but there's something different in the way he's speaking to you now. "I'd have to wager a gander and say that you haven't been under the most ideal positions. Stress, anxiety... getting shot, all of that just kinda piles up. Might just be your nerves being all worked up constantly, but I'm sure Mrs. Esposito wouldn't mind sharing her doctor for a check up. He's gotta get that all fixed up and over with anyways, might as well see what he recommends. Maybe you just need some sleep, or just a nice hard drink."
>>
Optimistic, but the silence you both give doesn't make it feel that way. You're afraid to meet his gaze, trying to keep yourself calm.

"Maybe you're falling in love with her." Slurred and half-asleep words, Lang manages to sit up just long enough to slump forward. "Or obsessed, almost the same thing, That asshole wouldn't stop talking about her the whole car ride... you've gone through all his shit and got shot for it. Don't get me wrong... love kids. But that's a lot to go through for someone you don't care much about." She mumbles mostly unintelligible words next, looking up at Crockett with squinted eyes. "So, am I free to stay here, or should I pass out in the car? Cause in a couple of minutes, I'm not gonna be useful to anyone."


"Yeah, you can stay. Suggest you lay low for a while, take some time off work if you can. But I probably don't need to be telling you that- ah, here. Lemme give you my number, you can call me in case anything fishy goes on, or if you remember something else..." You keep to yourself as he hands the information over to her, Tuan entering the room again with bright colors at hand.

"Sorry, looked. You big man. My clothes not fit you." Tuan shows off the much much too large dress, shrugging. "Only thing that would fit."

Lang shakes her head, stumbling up and putting his arm down. "Pretty sure he doesn't want to wear grandma's muumuu."

"Nothing else! Look, he is a giant." He gestures over your form as you stand, Crockett coming over to where you stand.

"You've gotta have something else around the house..."

"Fine. Give your shirt. Might be big enough."


As Lang begins to fall into a heated debate with her uncle in his language, a tan coat is held out to you. "Take it," Crockett offers, "Just going to be a car ride now, but don't need you freezing on us." Once you accept it, he turns to the middle of broken English being weaved in between the Vietnamese, taking Tuan's hand and giving a firm handshake. He starts to thank the doctor for his service, Lang rolling her eyes as she takes her leave. She looks back at you once more, starring you down before vanishing down the hall to get away from this.

You almost feel jealous over how easy it is for her.

...
>>
The coat is tight across your shoulders and upper arms, not even attempting to fasten the front shut. You lethargically follow Crockett, just managing a slow shuffle right now. In the living room, Delilah sits with the girls on the floor while Palmer takes the unoccupied end of the sofa.

"Alright kiddo, time to head out."

Delilah nods, giving a quick goodbye to the girls as she gets up. Palmer follows, much more full of energy than either you or Crockett.

"Officer Lang staying here?" she asks, getting her confirmation and a quick rundown of how they should leave the area. While they quickly plan, Delilah inches closer to you, trying not to appear too eager.

"So um..." she starts to say quietly, looking off to the side, "Did he fix you? You're going to be okay, right?" You nod, flashing her the patch job under your undershirt. It's like actually watching the weight drop from her shoulders, a short grin coming to her face from relief.


Looking forward again, Delilah says, "That's good. I um, I knew you'd be fine. You're supposed to be really cool, remember? What a cruddy way to go down." The corners of her smile remain, but she looks exhausted too. This day is so close to ending, but there's still a little ways to go.

When Palmer calls for you two to follow out to the car, Delilah leads the way right in front of you to keep it safe. Every time she looks back to make sure you're still walking out, there's another small burst of warmth in your chest and bounce starting to return to your step.

The panic from early hasn't really left the back of your mind yet, and sitting in the car waiting to get to where ever will only give it more time to grow. The fact that you and Bower could even have something in common like the chest pains is already worrying enough, and you fear how much further the two of you may be connected.


Maybe you're obsessed with her

You sure as hell don't want to believe it to be true. You keep reminding yourself how important it is to Delilah that you're there with her, that she smiles for you. It would break her little heart if you weren't there for her one day, but she doesn't need you to keep her safe anymore. She's about to go somewhere safe, where she doesn't have to worry about heat or food or anyone taking her away.


If you are headed down the same path as Bower, you'll be the only one posing a threat to Delilah.

But that can't be. You guys will get there, the doctor there will check you out. He'll say something like you need to relax, or that you need to change your diet, or that you need some complex surgery to feel better. Anything that'll fix the problems before they really begin.


If they don't start to get better though, you need to prioritize:


>Delilah's safety, like you had originally did

>Delilah's happiness, she's doesn't have much else
>>
>>1475532
>Delilah's happiness, she's doesn't have much else
We'll need to make sure Delilah at least has good memories if this condition is just going to get worse.
>>
"Alright, rolling out. As far as I'm concerned, there's no more stops between here and Mrs. Esposito," announces Palmer as the drive continues once more. The front seat is occupied by Crockett this time, helping to keep an eye out on the roads. It takes some time to navigate out of the houses, but the trip continues once more. Everyone stays silent inside, Palmer breaking this only when she switches on a police scanner up front. You're too tired to pay attention to the static filled voices from the box, but neither her or Crockett look too concerned with it.


"Just trying to keep an ear out for anything that might be happening on our way." Crockett explains, looking back in the rear view mirror. Delilah nods in acknowledgement, leaning against the seat and trying to keep her eyes open. Whatever Tuan had give you earlier is certainly kicking in, trying to lull you to sleep with the warmth and rocking of the vehicle.

"We have to stay awake..." she yawns, rubbing her eyes. Delilah does make sure you stay awake during the ride, especially when you insist on resting your eyes. Somehow you must have fallen asleep, as one moment you're listening to the hum of the engine and the next you're being shaken awake.


"I think we're here," Delilah whispers, "Are you feeling okay?" You nod and sit up, seeing now that Palmer has stopped in front of a large gate. She's entering in a code up front, one that's taking her plenty of time to put in. "That's good. You were kind of snoring loud..." she continues, kneeling next to you as the gate out front slowly opens. Palmer drives through, a long pathway leading to a house that is still a considerable distance away. Looking around in the flurry of white, you can't see any other houses nearby. The cityscape just dots the horizon far off, but it shrinks away soon enough.


"Does my grandma own this place?" asks Delilah, looking over the property as the car pulls up to a garage. A one story house, it's stretched out on plenty of open space. There aren't too many windows anywhere, the few that are in place barred with metal poles. Sturdy yet with hints elegance, this place looked built for hiding away.
>>
"Sure does. I'm sure she'll tell you about this place later if you'd like." Palmer opens the newer looking garage with another set of codes, pulling in to join an array of cars already parked inside. Her and Crockett take the duty of bringing in any bags, rejecting Delilah's offer to help. She looks nervous more than anything right now, fidgeting in place. Not that you need it so much right now, but you ask her to help you inside. Being given something to do cheers her up some, and you give her hand a quick squeeze to remind her that she's not walking in alone.

Through yet another set of security at the door, and you two are finally lead inside.

...


A woman awaits your group in the spread out living room, the interior resembling the house Delilah's grandmother had been living at before. She smiles as she walks between the antique furniture, dressed in a plain uniform.

"Welcome back," she greets, Crockett shaking her hand, "Did your trip here go well?"

"Not quite, ma'am. We have a wounded man here, but he's not quite to death's door yet."

"Oh!" Her hand comes up to her mouth as she looks up at you, noticing your face before the bandaging. "We'll get you looked at right away, what's your name?"

"He's Lawrence..." Delilah speaks up for you, "And I'm Delilah."


"Yes, we've been expecting you. Your grandmother is waiting in her room, she's been wondering when you'd get here. She's in there with Dr. Rizzo, I'll let them know you've arrived." There's a slight accent in some of her words, one you can barely notice. Before she leaves, the woman mentions quietly to Crockett, "By the way, a fax came in for you. Said it was really important."

"Right, I'll go check it out. Thanks Cami. Ah, right. By the way, this lovely nurse is Ms. Camilla. She helps your grandma around the house. If you'll stay with them Sybil, I've gotta go check on that message."
>>
"Yep. I can stick around for a bit longer, make sure you guys are gonna be fine." Palmer sets down the bags she carried in, Crockett taking the ones containing the tapes with him. "Pretty nice place here, I wouldn't mind spending the night. But I got a dog back home that needs to be fed, pretty sure she'll be pretty sore at me if the neighbor has to come feed her again."

"Thanks for helping us." Delilah says, not leaving your side.

"Part of the job. You'll probably see me around once in a while. I'm not part of the usual uh, 'staff'."

"Are there a lot of other people?" Delilah can feel it too. For a large place, it feels strangely deserted.

Palmer shakes her head, "Not really. Should make it easy for you to learn everyone's name." Delilah nods, becoming jittery as her reunion comes closer. Down one of the halls, the voice of Crockett manages to carry as he mutters to himself.


"Dammit...goddammit...!" He sounds absolutely pissed, in a way you haven't heard from him before. Palmer looks concerned too, but remains with the two of you.

"Must've not been good news.." she says, but it seems to go on beyond just any kind of bad.


>Keep caught up, go see what's wrong
>Stay with Delilah for now, see if you can find out later
>Write-in
>>
I have to go out of town for a while, apologies now
>>
>>1478806
>Keep caught up, go see what's wrong
>>
Apology once more, taking a bit of a longer break than I thought. Will continue in a few more days.




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