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/qst/ - Quests

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A one-shot featuring a most knightly and depraved lover of women.
—Regarding the Quest—
Loveless Gal is an “early modern” - fantasy quest which updates once every 1 - 2 days, and occasionally features drawings - depending on how busy I am. Takes place in the same universe as “Prinzessin Quest”.
“… Gaaal. Mom said supper is just about ready.” Her voice, as sweet and gentle as it was, could not compel me to leave the table - I was still slumped over. “I’m… I’m not that hungry. I just— I’ll just finish - this - first.” Couple inches away from my head lies the note of apology - of which I made little progress on.

Damn it all.
Damn it all.
Damn those pricks. I hope those shits get raped to death the next time they visit a fucking outhouse. Maybe THEN their parents would understand why the behaviors were not acceptable.

Argh. With every passing moment, the more deeply it stirs me.

“… you haven’t eaten anything since mid-day. Are you good? I can get you some balm or towels if it still hurts.” As kind-hearted as always, my sister sat down to console me. But no, I reassure her that was not the case: my back no longer was bloody, and that redness vanished from my arms a while ago. Hardly the worst punishment my mother had administered, anyway.

“No. It’s not like that. I am not hurt. I’m—”
“I’m just… tired.”
“I’m just…….. tired of it all. I’ll have my supper afterwards. You… go ahead.”

Maeg wanted to say something in response right away, but pauses.

“I.. I see. Well… If you need anything, just.. just tell me, y- yeah? I’ll be in my room.” Her voice trembles as she prepares to take her leave.

“I really need to see ____ ______ ___ ____ ______ raped to death by a pack of Guests. Could ya do that for me?” Sardonically I ask, if only to keep her with me for a single moment longer.

“… uh. Convincing those immigrants to fuck those kids MIGHT be a little difficult: their buttocks aren’t as wide as goats.” Her angelic tone returns to normality as she entertains my question. On her lips appears a most vile grin.

“… pft. HahHaHA.” All right, that was pretty funny. I decide to push a little further - continuing this conversation certainly beats being alone. “Aww~ not even as a birthday present?”

“Nope!” She lightly strokes my hair while denying a wish thoroughly founded in logic and reason. Her embrace makes all of today’s hardship vanish. I want to stay like this forever! I don’t need friends. I don’t need mom. Or dad. Or anyone else. Just my elder sister. Just her. Her and her alone. “Butttttt! you can have some of my chocolate. I’ll bring you a cup once mom leaves the withdrawing room - but promise one thing, Gal.” Her tone then shifts into a more serious one.

“… yeah?” I answer, a tad nervous.
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“Do not repeat today, all right? I know you mean well - you’re more knightly than many folks my age, honestly - but you need to walk away, sometimes. Seriously! Go tell an adult that a pack of twelve-year-olds are spying on a woman while she is bathing. Boom. Just like that - their credibility goes down the shitter. They can’t concoct their horseshit of a story anymore. And! With an adult on your side, they would not dare risk a fight. Unlike the rest, Maeg actually cares to listen to my side of the story. Her words, stern, yes, but never imperious. Still, I find it difficult to heed such.

“… ugh. But. But what if they are gone by the time I return?” I try to reason with her, but a glare from her shoots that down right away.

“They most certainly won’t. What incentive is there? Assuming they were the perceptive sort, you would just be some kid - some ten years old. Alone. He can’t take a group of five. But.. let’s say they left. Then… yes, that definitely does suck that they got away with it, but, hey, that woman is not leered at anymore. And you kept yourself safe. That is all which matters. Above all else! All... All right?” Her voice trembles all over again as she states her case.

“I’ve seen.. too many. Too, too many! Too many good men intervene in situations of this sort and were maimed or killed or crippled. What… what if you lost? You- you had a pen, yes, but what if they produced a knife? What if they were not as cowardly? What if you fell? Would- would they not stomp on your head, over and over and over again, fuck up your mind for the rest of your life? Or broke your arms, legs so - strongly - it never heals fully? What…… then? I don’t want you to die for shit like this when other.... paths………. could be taken. All…. all right?…..” As words kept being produced, the more shaky her voice becomes, and the more her eyes glisten. Fuck. I really am making her cry, aren’t I? I let her down. I really, really let her down. Her. Of all people. Fuck. I really am such a fuck-up.

“I… I promise. I promise - I won't go there again. I swear on it.” I cling to her, wrapping my arms around her waist as tightly as I could, burying my face into her chest and feeling her breath.

“Ah. Good, good.” Her fingers glide through my hair once more. We remained in silence for quite some time - of which I adored every second of it, but eventually she withdrew from my hug. “… err.. anyway. About the chocolate - you want any.. nutmeg in it? Cinnamon? Long pepper? The ever-considerate Maeg asks for my preference in spices.

“Nah. Just vanilla.”

“All right then. I’ll be sure to put in quite the handful~” Her eyebrows grow soft, and a faint smirk emerges as she prepares to leave - for good, this time.
“But you best not be slacking off, yeah? Try to get the letter done before two in the dusk.”
Her visage grows harder and harder to remember. The world’s a lot darker without you around, cuz. The months before new years feel so long…
Agh. Enough! No. No more. No more dwelling on her: this does not assist me in sleeping - the opposite, in fact. All it does is remind me how much I miss her embrace. Now I’m sad and tired. What an achievement! Ugh, I guess I really do need a “pick-me-up” as it is called.
( They were all in vain. )
Looking at pornography does not really help. The contents remain delectable, of course - I never did grow tired of tall, well-sculpted women ravishing a young boy. The art is masterfully drawn, but…. it’s just.. the same damned thing. I’ve seen it again and again. Probably too much this week. I suppose I could force myself to it, but it would just make the pain even worse after I finish.

My knives - for some reason - were also unsatisfying to use. Usually a couple grazes on my thigh or arm would be enough to get a decent euphoria, but the edges seem particularly dull and reluctant tonight. I could barely get a nick on my arm, and - now of all times - is when I can’t find a proper whetstone.

Arugh…. Damn it all. Hmm. Ah. I suppose a quick trip would not hurt. I could visit the Green Lamps district and get a new volume of that series. That art dealer sure knows how to get blood hot. Or.. I could visit the market district instead to pick up a whetstone. If I’m lucky, I could find a cutler to do some quick sharpening on my blades.

I decide to…

>visit the art-dealer for a new volume of pornography

>pay a prostitute and sleep on her lap for an hour while she praises me
How could I even talk to those females???

>go pick up a new whetstone and possibly find a cutler

>drink at an alehouse
I am not going alone. No way.
>visit the art-dealer for a new volume of pornography

oh boy
this MC has issues
>>visit the art-dealer for a new volume of pornography
>visit the art-dealer for a new volume of pornography
Uh, hey Gal. You... You alright there, buddy?
>visit the art-dealer for a new volume of pornography
Is it necessary to read the quest this one is a spin-off of ?
Not necessary. Both Prinzessin and Loveless Gal are self-contained.

It’s shotaconing time

Vote closed. Writing.
Gotta sleep - update + artwork should be out by tomorrow.
>visit art-dealer

Finding a cutler during such ungodly hours would be a hopeless pursuit the more I think about it. To Green Lamps, then. Picking up another one of Nori’s books should not take long.

Still, I cannot get careless in the district of whorehouses: while I have no interest in quarrels pertaining to gambling or liquor or women, low company frequent those streets and often are mercurial. Many there dress immoderately, adorning the body with the most elaborate-patterned fabrics, and carry basket-hilt knives and swords of the largest size and of grandest design, to announce earnestly of one’s pride at all times. I prefer to not prod them.

Leaving the house, the wind bellows. A breeze makes my sleeves and breeches flutter strongly as I march to the south of Oceankeep - there lies a number of streets still brimming with bright colors - and as I get closer - noise. Loud cheers (or yells) occasionally slip from alehouses and gambling houses when doors open. Loud noises… also slip from teahouses and bathhouses, especially ones of lower quality commonly found on the streets far from shore. Ah. Yes, yes, go right ahead. Announce to the entire province you are sex-havers and are currently doing the sex. I am sure everyone is most intrigued!

Amidst all this nonsense, all this loud and obnoxious noise, lies a coffeehouse tightly squished in-between larger establishments. Without stopping closely to read the sign, you’d be forgiven for believing it was closed long ago: barely any ink remains, only indents. Inside is a cozy - if a bit cramped - coffeehouse that sells toast of shockingly good quality (and one of few places in which Nori’s works are sold in abundance). Right after crouching down to avoid hitting myself on the doorway, I walk to the bench where—

… they’re all gone now, aren’t they?

I slump on the table for a moment, thinking about all the conversations I had with those people who somehow managed to end up here on the regular. Ah, man, the things we said… I would not take - any - of it back. We never did agree on who was the cutest childfucker Nori ever drawn.


Ah. All right, all right. Enough. The eleventh volume of ‘Kuro’s Place is Where Girls Gather’ - that is what I am here for.

“… Nori has not renewed their contract with us. I’m afraid we no longer have any of her works in stock.” The dealer explains this expiration of partnership happened several months ago.

“Our current partner is Randou. Here—” The middle-aged lady takes a moment to bring a box up to the counter. “… are her line of products.” Within the box are stacks of broadsheet-sized advertisements of her artbook.

“Uh. Thanks, ma’am.” I am a little disappointed, but I decide to give this new artist a shot. Picking up one of them, I glance through a couple of the descriptions.
… What the fuck? The pornography is primarily adult male(s) - female child rape. This is the very opposite of what I want. What a disappointment.
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“Mister. If you’re looking for volume 11 of Kuro’s place…” Coming from behind me - and somewhat low to the ground - is a strangely familiar voice of a goblin. Huh. She must’ve waited behind me while I was looking through the catalog. My bad. I should not be clogging up the line.

Turning around, I see a female whose height is roughly half of mine. More alarmingly, this one I - do - recognize: Airin. While we work in the same slave-audit agency, our lives do not intersect that frequently, and oftentimes, not directly. Airin is a legal advisor for the slave masters while I mainly audit and process slaves - she advises them on big decisions whereas I deal with the decisions’ aftermath.

Oh god. Oh no, no, no, no. This- this is bad. This is really, really bad. WHY IS SHE HERE? Will this female squeal on me? Getting caught with pornography of this sort, hell, just the RUMOR of it be pretty damning. It is fiction, yes, but quite a number of folk seem to believe it to be closely related to actual childfuckers for some reason.

“Uh...” Airin is also freezing up - she seems to have recognized me also. After a second of staring, she pretended to not be aware of me and only address the dealer when talking.

“… uh.. yes. Randou’s Lady Yuri Servants… volume.. one to four. That- that is correct. Thank you.” After confirming her order to be accurate - in a rather nervous manner, Airin slides the dealer a heavily bulging pouch for four exceptionally thick books complete with colored illustrations. Once the dealer finishes gathering the bullet coins and hands her back the pouch, Airin prepares to take her leave. Quickly.

“Miss— ” I try to get her attention. She shuts that down immediately.

“Mister. You. you. Saw nothing. We- we never spoke to each other. Are we to be clear?” Airin is becoming jittery both in tone and in action. She must be a hair’s breadth away from panicking.

“Yes. Yes. We are clear.” I slowly back away from her. She seems to appreciate that.

“Good.. good.” She nods.

As her fingers frantically grasp onto the groove to slide the door open, I wonder if I should really let her go or not. Could I really trust this female to not squeal? I am sure to see her at work soon. And what’s with that non-answer, anyway? What the hell? Why did she refuse to answer?

Should I let her leave like this?

>Yes: remain quiet

>No: pursue and ask her further questions
>Yes: remain quiet
We are in a state of mutually-assured destruction. She's into lesbian loli, we're into SS. Now, normally this would be a recipe for a weird relationship between degenerates, but that would also be dipping our pen in company ink, and ANYWAY I don't think Gal would trust a 'damned female' so readily with the particulars of his tastes. And giantesses are probably more his speed, kek
>No: pursue and ask her further questions
she knows where we can find our cultured porn, she gotta tell us
Happy new year's fellow gentleman gooners.
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The company in question:
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Happy new years!
Backing >>5878836
she can’t just leave us hanging like this

Happy new years btw
I’ll be closing vote tomorrow morning.

Currently we have a

1 - let her go
2 - pursue
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The sword depicted in the thumbnail is modeled after "Hanwei Cromwell sword", a reproduction of a basket-hilt sword owned by Oilver Cromwell.

These swords were common during the 16 - 18th century in many European countries.

>Scottish basket hilts
These encase the hand entirely with multiple plates, and some had padding underneath. If you’ve seen Rob Roy, this is the sword used in the final duel by Liam Neeson.

>English "mortuary" hilts
These are more minimal in design - generally having thin bars protecting only the front half of the hilt - whereas the scottish bars tend to cover about 3/4th of the hilt. Alongside rapiers, these were used during the English civil war. The term "mortuary hilt" is - much like "sidesword" - not a historical term of classification, but nowadays used for convenience’s sake. This name comes from the fact that some of these swords depict the face of the deceased King Charles the first on the shell.

Basket-hilt daggers - "alehouse / bum daggers" as they were called, were also very popular among the ruffians of England during the early modern period. Using the hilt itself as a weapon was also documented and shows up in writing. “.. one of the two diputants says to the other: My hilts shall braine thee like a maull.”

>Italy "Schiavona" hilt
These have several iron bars wrapped around the hilt in a leaf shape, how thin or thick, or the amount depends on the period - the late 17th and 18th century bars tend to be smaller but more numerous. It essentially is a one handed sword with a bunch of iron bars swirling around the hilt - there is still a crossguard. The other basket hilts just have a wide shell instead.

Often used by mercenaries in Italy, usually ones from the balkans and bodyguards of Doge of Venice.

>backsword / broadsword

Backsword: has one cutting edge, although some have the upper portions of the back edge sharpened to facilitate false edge cuts or thrusts.

Broadsword: double-edged.


This video showcases what the basket hilt swords are and what they look like:

This is HEMA sparring - what a fight between two broadsword fencers might look like:

History of the Schiavona:

Four schiavona of four eras:

Alehouse dagger and the period writings:

Hanwei Cromwell sword:
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See you all tomorrow.
zam, you really like swords, don't you ?
waiting warmly

Huh, interesting stuff! I wish I had this level of attention to detail. Thanks for the info, and Happy New Year!
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>No: pursue and ask

What — is — with this female? Airin was rather willing to tell a stranger where they could find Nori’s books but scutters away from me. Me! Me. Me of all folk. Not once have I crossed her: she’s just being a prick at this point.

Her frantic clawing at the door pisses me off even more - what danger does she believe she is in, really? I have no wish to tell anyone about her interests; I gain - nothing - for it. Scuttering away from a “threat” without giving him what he wants - the which, she could easily do - is her way of voiding “danger”. This is a woman who is thirty years of age - approximately - might I add. Headless chickens might have an equal.

I quickly catch up to Airin as she continues fidgeting with the door - her fingers unable to grasp the groove properly due to her stature.

“Miss. Mind telling me where I could find those books?” My firm words only elicit seething from her at first.

“… can you —not— see I wish to bow out? At all?” She exasperatedly groans while standing on her toes to reach the groove. This is getting annoying.

“Answer me and I molest you no further—” After watching her repeatedly fail to operate it, I stick my fingers into the groove - at long last - slide the damned thing open widely. “—I wish to bow out just as much —as— you. A name. That’s all.”

“… -you- of all folk is the last person I want to see here. Leave me be, Kommgal. Work is already hard enough - I do not need you to ruin the one good thing I have.” Out of nowhere, Airin expresses her indignation towards me.

“Wha… what have - I - done to cross you???” She glares at me and is about ready to say something in response right away, but takes a moment to calm herself down.

“Close. The door.” The conversation continues at a table not particularly far from it. She remained in silence until coffee was produced.

“You. And Aeg. Have you the remotest - idea - of shit thrown my way?” She switches back and forth between ranting and sipping from a mug. Only the fragrance of coffee keeps my ears awake. “It’s always the same damned thing. Aeg does some stupid shit and you bail him out everytime. He’s a slavecatcher, Kommgal. Transporting and watching over them is his job - indulging their… requests and arguing with masters on their behalf - is not.”

Oh good. This again. It’s not my fault some of them are retarded. Years have passed since I followed cookery seriously - my mother always preferred my sister, anyway - but even I know to treat slave cooks better than that.

“… Forbidding them to take a seat isn’t going to make them more efficient, Airin. And I seriously doubt -any- of the guests would give a damn. And.. if they are to cook all-day, their own supper should the very least—” My head starts to droop. This is getting more nauseating.
“That alone isn’t- Shit stacks up, Kommgal. Ugh. Why do I even- you’ll just ruin it if I tell you where it is….” We both let out a sigh after her spiteful response, and silence lingers for a long while. Anymore arguing or shit-flinging or name-calling would only breed more loathsomeness. Only when the mug was near empty did I speak again.

“… You hold all the power right now, Airin: talk, and everyone else will believe your words over mine. They already do, anyways…” Sardonically, I note the position I would be in should such rumors spread. At best, I’ll be shoved into a more minor position and quietly replaced. My future career prospects won’t look good either…

“Green Lamps is dear to me. As you said: it’s the one - good - thing in our lives. I really do not wish to fuck it up. All I want is to just… find the place - buy those books - and bow out.” My pleading got Airin to furrow her eyebrows and drop her head a little.

“… not a word about this, Kommgal. I will take you there and you will not say - or - do a damned thing. TO ANYONE. Anyone. Are we clear?” Her outburst was a little amusing. What sort of pornography could wound me so deeply that she feels the need to say such, I wonder.

“Yeah. I take it to the grave.” I leave my curiosity buried and simply agree to her terms.

“… Uh. you mind?” She looks at me once we approach the door again. “Ah.” I slide it open without much fanfare. Huh. How did she enter if she can’t even reach the door, I wonder. “Do leave it a little ajar, please.” She answered that even before I got to ask. I slowly close it behind us so there’s a sliver remaining.

Her being half of my size normally would make following her difficult, but the broad-brimmed hat she wears makes it less so. The many white plumes bounce up and down with her as she walks - it’s rather endearing. So this is what I must have looked like to all those folk - galloping around to deliver to them their bread. Wasn’t the worst chore my mother tasked me with, I suppose.

Following her did feel like a chore at times with the way she dashed around corners and slipped in-between crowds. We eventually reach our destination - the entrance to the underground passages and dwellings. This one does seems.. dilapidated and pale in color. I suppose that is good?

“Ugh. We’re using this.. elevator?” I feel a little tense when looking at - what is essentially a box designed for transporting people three or four times my size. The Serpents do have a habit of constructing things with their own size in mind.

“They work just fine.” She reassures me so. While I do know the pulley systems - the ropes - they all work fine with many redundancies, but……
“H- haah…” Descending - or being on something which moves quickly - is just the worst. My eyes betray me and my heart sends a most dreadful feeling across my body. In my younger years, I would have Maeg to hold onto but.. now? I.. I can’t. I can’t do anything! I can’t! That would be improper of me. I’m just.. stuck with this female for god knows how long. Half a minute? Even longer? Fuck.

“.. you well?” This is bad. Airin seems to pick up on my distress. Ugh. That is the very last thing I need right now.

“… Kommgal?” She keeps asking. My breath is getting heavier and heavier. Fuck. I knew this was a bad idea. I knew it. I should have insisted.

“Hh—” For a moment, to stop my trembling, my hand accidentally pressed against her shoulder to support myself. I retract it immediately after, but it was too late.

“… uh.” She gives me an odd look. One that I am all too familiar with.

How do I even respond to her at this point?

>“That- that will not happen again. My apologies.”

>“Sorry. I am… not the most.. familiar with this sort of transport.”
>“Sorry. I am… not the most.. familiar with this sort of transport.”
does he have a fear of heights or just of things that move fast ? is that the case with cars as well ?
>“Sorry. I am… not the most.. familiar with this sort of transport.”

Maybe it's the falling sensation of going down, and we'll be fine going up
>“Sorry. I am… not the most.. familiar with this sort of transport.”

People from countries without a lot of elevators/escalators are often unnerved by the unfamiliar sensation of moving quickly like that, even today IRL. This guy seems to be from a mostly agrarian, preindustrial society.
>“Sorry. I am… not the most.. familiar with this sort of transport.”
>“That- that will not happen again. My apologies.”
Closing vote tomorrow morning.
>“That- that will not happen again. My apologies.”

sorry transport

not happen again

Vote closed. Writing.
Posting on Narrator Kommgal's behalf to say they will not be able to finish the update tonight because they are currently IP range banned.
Damn! Thought he had that sorted out.
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I’m back.
Here is a sneak-peak of the next update.
we're back
Hello, I will be updating on Narraror Kommgal's behalf. Thank you for your patience!
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>“Sorry. I am… not the most.. familiar with this sort of transport.”

I managed only a single coherent sentence before panic flares up again.

“.. ha- hh…..” My palm and fingers grasp and dig into my thighs: I cannot risk those inappropriately touching her again. This is already enough of a mess I am in right now.

“Sit.” Airin’s words, as well as her hand tugging on my wrist, jolts me back to normality, for the time being.

That rush of fear which once flooded my body is quickly cut down once I kneel. Being closer to the ground - and touching that with my hand - made my breath return to a more moderate pace.

“A couple more seconds.” Airin consoles me as her tiny, green as basil fingers grasp my shoulder for further stability - rather firmly, actually. I never quite realized how many calluses were on her palm until now: there’s an entire row on the part where fingers and palm are joined, and another on the first joints. How… fascinating. It feels pleasant, in a way. I… I never imagined Airin to be—

… And just as she stated, we came to a sudden stop not long after. It jerked us around a little, but the both of us kept our footing. Opening the elevator reveals to me the true vastness of these passages - I was but an ant, walking on a river which had since dried up. Reverberation and the brisk air follows our every step.

Although cold and sparsely lit - with most lanterns localized to signs or branching paths - Airin’s pace do not falter, not even by a little.

“.. Hey. thanks. for earlier. i- i really appreciate it.” That feeling is mostly gone now, but some shakiness still lingers in my throat.

“It’s fine…..” I can feel a certain tiredness in her voice. Ugh. She must be cross with me, isn’t she? I would be too if I had to coddle an adult everytime he is in an elevator or coach.

…… still, Airin helped me regardless, didn’t she? She seems to understand my explanation, somewhat, at least.

While we did encounter a handful of people also using the passages - mostly to transport goods and such - they traveled in relative silence, and kept their distance. Airin didn’t speak much either, besides the occasional word regarding direction.

As for me…

>I remained silent.
I did not dare push my luck again. Airin is quiet for a reason - had she been in the mood for conversation, she would have said something - or anything - by now. To molest her now would breed more loathsomeness between us.

>I asked about her habits which caused such calluses.

“I noticed some roughness on your hand: which sort of exercise do you follow — if I may ask?”


>My feelings got the better of me.

“Your hat looks… nice. Where did you find those plumes?”

( We soon arrived at the location. )
The very same qualities which makes this a good roadway and storage: its wintry air, ever-expansive tunnels, and desolate nature - makes it a poor location for most establishments. Doors aren’t used here often due to the coarse terrain and in their absence are dividers of cloth or straw. The logistics of manning it come dear, also.

But some still persist.

‘Azure Reports (and Soporific Products)’ emblazoned in white against a lazuli blue cloth hangs high - higher and wider than a standard or two conjoined - signaling the end of our little journey through the icy tunnels. Well, half of it, rather.

“Not opium.” Airin speaks up in their defense just as I was about to ask the strange fumes which seem to seep from the interior. I am most elated: A beheading is not something I look forward to. Nowadays.

“Remain close to me at all times.” Airin cautions me one last time before we enter. We gave each other a look before I parted the cloth which hangs on the entrance.

… rather than contempt or a need to hurry, the place elicited the very opposite reaction: wonder.

Rows and rows of shelves, stocked with not only books but merchandise of the characters: from tiny wooden figurines which could fit in my palm to broadsheet-sized posters in full colors, to give everything a gander would take an hour or more. A younger me would have easily recalled all their names. And given them all my money.

Ah. There it finally is. Volume 11 of Kuro’s Place is Where Girls Gather. Finally.

Further in the bookstore is a… toy section. I never found it necessary to have an artificial cunt to begin with.

And to the sides are rooms where those odd fumes came from - it’s a little pungent, but in a herbal, grass-like manner. Oh god. What did those Serpents put their minds to, this time?

“Soporifics. These are made by the Serpents and their.. uh- scholars. They put the body to sleep for very brief periods - thirty minutes, an hour, often less. And in those periods, dreams are often induced. Which sort, how malleable the dreams are, and how long those feelings persist after waking up… they all vary, depending on the ingredients and preparation. It’s a very particular side-effect - the which, is completely unintentional and does not overshadow its main function, obviously.” Airin nudges us away from the mist - seems like she is not fond of the smell, either.

“Ah. I see.”
“So. Legally speaking, they are not at all hallucinogenics, I gather?” I copy her very particular way describing the “sleeping aid”.

“No. Not — at all — like that. Legally speaking. Of course.” Airin gives a chuckle, albeit one out of amusement rather than actual joy. “… anyway. That is all, correct?” I nod in response - I already got all I need. Or ever need. Until volume 12 drops, anyway, but it would probably be some months before that.
( The employees were surprisingly nice, too. They packed the book in an envelope and gave me a bag for it - free of charge. I suppose when you charge that much for merchandise and those soporifics, you could afford some conveniences for the customers. )
Returning to the surface was a little less tedious. I have a vague understanding of where the passages are now, and being able to have such a lovely book in my possession definitely elevated things.

“… I owe you one, Airin. Thanks.” My smile fades away after recognizing the implication of those words. A dreadful feeling worms its way to my chest once more.

“Is there - anything - I could do to make it up for you?” I hold my breath and await her answer.

“Remember what I said about Aeg? You could do that - for a start. Talk to him: Let him know that the shit he keeps pulling, it’s dragging everyone’s dicks through the dirt. And that.. uh- tattoo artist. Him too. He’s not a legal advisor, Kommgal. Try to get that sorted out.” Airin lists some rather harsh demands. I have tomorrow off - and so do my friends, but.. that is a lot easier said than done.

Aeg is probably out shooting at the outskirts of the province, or watching shadow puppetry shows in the market district. Thon should still be in his workshop, but if he’s not.. well, shit. He might as well be an apparition.

Taking the elevator back up wasn’t as bad now that I know to keep my eyes to the floor and to ignore the sounds. I still stumble a little, of course, but at least I’m not out of breath by the time it comes to a stop.

“So. I guess.. I’ll see you soon, Kommgal.” Airin prepares to take her leave.

“See you.”
“Er… you- uh.. need someone to go with you?” I know she’s.. well, Airin, but the night is reaching it’s peak. There’s more people than ever in Green Lamps, even spilling over to the districts neighboring it. What if a pack of badmen or immigrants decide she’s the one to molest tonight? I can’t let her get home alone.

“.. pft. Thanks. I appreciate it, but I believe I will be fine.” Airin taps on her hat, which then produces a harsh metallic sound: she has a secret [helmet concealed underneath a hat]. Underneath that robe I am fairly certain has a dagger or two. Or three.

“Besides, I live in the north east of town - that would be - quite - the walk.” Airin does bring up a good point - her place is hardly close to mine: walking across town and then going back to my place would eat up quite a few hours. Getting up early tomorrow probably won’t be an option. I suppose a compromise would be to walk with her until she’s out of Green Lamps. I won’t be as exhausted then - and be more able to defend myself should I was to be attacked.


Do I part ways with her?

>Yes: let her go after we leave Green Lamps
She should be fine. This probably won’t be that tiring for me.

>No: stay with her until she gets home
I will be rather tired on my way home, though.
(Hello. Narrator Kommgal here. IP and shit got a bit weird but should be fixed in a few hours - I should be able to respond normally once I wake up. Thanks for your patience. Shout-out to the hikidiscord for posting this)
>I asked about her habits which caused such calluses.

>Yes: let her go after we leave Green Lamps
>My feelings got the better of me.
>Yes: let her go after we leave Green Lamps
>I asked about her habits which caused such calluses.
>Yes: let her go after we leave Green Lamps
Calluses + yes let her go

Feelings + yes let her go

Unanimous agreement on yes let her go but currently a tie for the first choice - I’ll close vote tomorrow morning.
Tiebreaker incoming.
>My feelings got the better of me.

The calluses feel like the answer would be really personal, and complimenting the hat seems like a lame thing to do. Perfect for getting a light teasing out of her in response just like sister when we spoke of the immigrants.
Voting closed.
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>My feelings got the better of me.

I wished to say she was cute. I earnestly wished to. ‘That hat looks well on you.’ was something I could have said. But I did not. My heart was still tense and uncertain, so the thing which came out of my mouth was this… bland, moronic attempt of provoking a conversation.

“Your hat looks… nice. Where did you find those plumes?” And delivered in the most uneven and shaky tone, of course.

“Ah, thanks. These are from gamecocks; the yellowcock - whitetail breed in particular. They are fine things. I do not follow cockfighting seriously nowadays, but—” On Airin’s face appears a smile, and her tone grows ever more cheerful. “—I could never forget them: wide and full breasted, long and slender in the body, and big-boned, they were — the — finest cockfighters. They stand proudly as a lion, all the while being as grand as - perhaps more than - a peacock! Wondrous things.” Airin gushes about the gamecock at length.

Ah. I see. She’s quite talkative in her area of interest. Mhm. I might have a second shot at this.

“Yeah. Their tail feathers really are quite something else. They- uh- they really compliment your hat.” That moronic sentence somehow manages to claw its way out of my throat yet again. I take a moment to process my thoughts before talking again.

“I- uh- you- you look well… in it, I meant.” Even with some shakiness in my throat, I succeed in voicing my feelings.

“thanks.” Airin nods in response.

And no words were exchanged for many, many seconds since. I never did get a good look at her expression; her height being half of mine and that wide-brimmed hat does much to obscure her face. An even worse pain suffocates my chest and stomach. I really made this awkward, didn’t I? Damn it all.

“.. uh- hey. Your- your hat. I found that to be nice, too. I have not seen podsandflowers of vanilla on hats before, but youmadeitlookprettywell. It- it goes well with your clothes is what I meant.” Airin breaks the silence by trying to compliment the hat I wear during workdays. No longer present is that cheery tone, no, her words instead feel shaky and rushed. I could hardly see that smile anymore.

“Yeah.. thanks. I—” For a moment, I thought about explaining the importance of such, and stories of me and my sister, but I decided to cut things short - there is already enough distance between us.

“—I appreciate it.”

And silence resumed, and we - or I, at least - pretends the conversation never took place.
( We did not revisit the topic on our way back to the surface. )
>yes: let her go after we leave Green Lamps

Airin begrudgingly accepts my offer to walk with her until we leave the whorehouse district. She thinks of it as an unnecessary act and a waste of my time.

“It is nothing. Besides, I owe you one. You helped me plenty when we were in the elevator.” I reassure her that’s—

“You don’t!” Airin wrathfully interjects. I don’t believe I’ve heard her this angry, even when she reprimanded me at the coffeehouse. Huh.

“That is not some kindness which must be repaid - that’s just… common decency. You see someone stumble, you help them up.” Her anger quickly evaporates, but the tone remains firm. And a little melancholic.

“I- yeah. I suppose you - are - correct. But you need not worry about me, seriously. Some ten, twenty minutes, it is not that serious a thing.” I reassure her that this hardly inconveniences me.

Mhm. Her worry is rather endearing, actually. I find myself smiling a little when I notice that.

“I’m good, Airin.” I tap Airin on the shoulder to comfort her.

“a—” She lets out a gasp and her body jerks in response. I pull my hand back immediately.

No. Oh, for fuck’s sake. I DID IT AGAIN. How do I even…

“Sorry. I- uh…”
“I just- I was not expecting that. That is all. Let’s just go.” Airin gives a quick apology - one which I thoroughly did not deserve - before ending the conversation.

I truly am a fuck-up, aren’t I.
( And just as Airin said, we were not molested. We walked with conviction, and no one really looked at us for more than a second. )
At the very edges of a district immoderately filled with lights and noise, we both prepare to take our leave.

“Thanks for- uh- tonight. It’s- it’s been fun, going through those tunnels, visiting that store. See you soon, yeah?” I weakly waves her farewell.

“Yeah. That certainly was something.”
“I’ll… see you when volume twelve drops, then.” Her words provoke us both to giggle.

And there she goes.

The cute little feathers bouncing up and down as she walks away. Ah. So this is how it ends. Somehow, I am left with a smile. So I suppose things cannot be that bad.
( The trip home was as uneventful. )
As expected of Nori, the contents were exceptional. A little over seventy pages of delectable artwork featuring a young boy and a group of well-developed women.

I really needed this…

After two releases, I was very eager to sleep. My body certainly thinks so.


Airin’s requests still lingers deeply in my mind. Getting Aeg and Thon to change is difficult - I’m better off dealing with just one for tomorrow. The question is, which?

Aeg is certainly the one Airin has the most problem with - he is being far too lenient as a slavecatcher. I don’t wish to see him get in trouble, but I don’t wish to see Airin or the others in deeper shit with the slaveowners because of him, either. We need to work things out. Really work things out. This is going to be quite the compromise, isn’t it?

Thon, on the other hand, is a tattoo artist who has a contract with our company. He has fewer restrictions on behavior - but he’s a lot more replaceable than people in the company proper. According to Airin, it’s just his advice that she has a problem with - the which being constructed as legal advice when it apparently is not. A quick word, maybe some disclaimers and changes to his workshop, yes, that should do. If I could find him.

Who should I talk to tomorrow?

>Aeg - Slavecatcher

>Thon - Tattoo artist
>Aeg - Slavecatcher
>Aeg - Slavecatcher
It’s the bigger problem from what we’ve been told. May as well do it first.
>Aeg - Slavecatcher
>Thon - Tattoo artist
Quick and immediate results over what seems to be a longer term task
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Going forward, my schedule will be a little full during mondays and tuesdays - the updates might be slower. Thanks for your patience. I’ll probably do trivia like this >>5879213 to keep the thread busy in the meantime.

Gal’s honest reaction:
alright OP, take care
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—Trivia: Slavery—

The slave-auditing companies is a work of fiction - but it is something I extrapolated from reality, Thai history in particular.

>History of slavery & serfs
The earliest records of slavery points to Ayuttaya period [1351 - 1767]. Before that period only existed “Phrai” - serfs, which are essentially speaking. They owned land and must answer to a lord, who is either a nobleman or the monarch himself, and had to be tattooed to be designated as such - to not do so put them outside the law’s protection. While they serve the government through labor for a time (6 months - with one month intervals, although in later periods it was shortened), they do have the option to pay a monetary fee or send goods instead should travel prove impractical.

These existed alongside slaves right until 1905, during the reign of Rama V - when household slaves* were immediately considered freemen and other types of slaves were considered free when they reached 21 years of age. Phrai were relieved of governmental and military duties, as it was interfering with the economy, and military conscription was formed.

This was a gradual process - Thai society during the reign of Rama III (1788-1851) had one-third of its entire population as slaves: to let them - all - go immediately would be infeasible. Several edicts, such as the aforementioned freedom at age 21 in 1868, and the lowering the price needed to buy slaves out of slavery in 1874, were implemented over the course of several decades.

>Types of slaves
There are seven types. They all have a price - and if paid to the slavemaster, they can be freed, with the exception of household slaves.

-Debt slaves-
These are the most common: people who sold themselves - or were sold to slavery by their parents or husbands - due to the inability to support themselves or their family financially.

-“born-in-household” slaves-
Household slaves are people who are born from a slave: these are the only type who remain a slave for their entire life.

-Inherited slaves-
Slaves whose original master have since died but were passed to another.

-Given slaves-
Slaves given from one to another.

-Slaves saved from punishment-
People who commited a crime but were unable to pay a fine / compensation - and a slavemaster stepped in to pay it instead.

-Slaves saved from poverty-
People who sold themselves to a slavermaster during famine / economic crisis.

-[war] hostage slaves-

The wording is a little ambiguous in the sources I’ve read: it states “The victorious side would take the people of the losing side as slaves…”

I’m not sure if this means Prisoners Of War or this includes civilians too. I suspect it’s a little similar to how in medieval Europe it was better to capture a nobleman and ransom him for money than to kill him outright.

(Picture depicting the slaves is taken during Rama V’s reign)
>In Loveless Gal

With how prevalent slaves were, I’d figured there would be an entire industry dealing all of its intricacies: whether that be finding the slaves with the right qualifications, knowing what you can or cannot do legally with the slaves, how to use them most efficiently for your goal, dealing with the paperwork involved, security, and many, many other issues.

Hence, slave-audit companies. They act as intermediaries between the people and the government when handling the paperwork, while providing other auxiliary services like giving legal / financial advice, inking or security.

The update should be out by tomorrow. Stay tuned.
waiting warmly
Fascinating background to build a quest and world on!
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WIP drawing

Funnily enough, Aeg is more of a gyaru than gal is.
Head’s up. Can’t finish the update tonight. Gotta sleep.

Check back tomorrow.
Updating tonight.
Get excited!
waiting warmly
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>stay up to write long ass update
>forgot to post the damned thing before sleeping

Posting now.

Another night passes - and I move an inch closer to the year’s end.

Around this time would be when bearberries and cherries are flushed with the strongest red, whose fragrance could not leave the house for many, many months even after the last pies left the oven. Those months were always arduous: kneading dough, churning (the surprisingly unyielding) butter, running around town with what felt like an entire bakery on my back for the better part of the day, and - especially during my later adolescent years - being the centerpiece of complaints. Learning to behave as if one was a slave has proved useful, I suppose.

“Yeah… they - are - always like that, I suppose. Lose no heart, aye? Gaaal?”

Those days of lazing around Maeg’s room, burying my face in her pillows and blankets as we talked are long, long gone now, but… I still yearn for it. I still recall it, again and again. Her visage. Her warmth. Her scent. Now, such luxuries come rare. She has her own life to live, a bakery to inherit and care for, in a province far north of here - only one or twice, rarely thrice a year does she come here out of her volition no less, but—

I push any more of such thoughts to the back of my mind. Airin would not-

I don't even know —what— we are any more. Airin and I. That thought too gets pushed to the back of my mind shortly afterwards. And all of those gets washed away as I scoop up more water to rinse myself with.

Even during the early morning, the province is hardly the coldest place; I do not bother with any coats nor jerkins, just the usual freely flowing shirt and breeches is enough. And the hat. Wide-brimmed - save for the right side, the which is cocked up and pinned with vanilla flowers and beans - that will do finely in keeping the sun out of my eyes. As far as fragrances go, rosewater lightly ruffled on my hair is decent enough, I believe.

Mhm. Yes. Certainly most decent enough! Long has it been since I found comfort in the mirror.

But enough of that.

Presiding over the center of Oceankeep is the market district - the which could, in earnest, be described as a town of its own: confederacies of different industries packed together like potted fish, even possessing their own laws and special governmental oversight.

I find the place to be too crowded at most times I frequent it, but I could not say it never was without entertainment; seeing a swindler being paraded around town, his neck drowning in his own riches while his back gets bloodied by a whip proved a most riveting conversation piece in the summer months.
( It must have been some thirty or forty minutes since I left the house before I crossed paths with a certain figure in the market district. )
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He looks… slovenly. Some of his hair are bound together while other bits waywardly curl up. Shadows are present under his eyes, the which do not seem as open as before. Blemishes - dark red in nature - are also present, most clearly on the leg which wears a loose hose. I am certain his clothes were from yesterday, excepting his hat.

Near a wall plastered with broadsides is where Aeg stands, currently flipping through a note - the contents of which I am not quite tall enough to see.

“Uh. Heya.” Wearily the giant acknowledges me as I approach.

“Mhm. Hey. You free? We need to talk. Soon. Work stuff.” After speaking, I also take up residence near the wall of advertisements.

“Ah, yeah, sure. I’m-”
“Yes. We could talk. I- I’m just a little tired right now. Yesterday was—” Aeg takes a moment to exhale before continuing. “Tiresome.” He opens the bulging poke on his belt and stuffs down the note- a crudely drawn map of the market district.

“Do you have an eating place in mind? Coffee-house?” Aeg must be terribly famished with how faintly he is speaking.

Our conversation continues in the slaughterers’ side of the district, after a hearty meal of roasted duck and rice.

“… five of them shits backed up on me the - very - moment I took my eyes off the table: snatched my hat, my whole everything!” Aeg rants about wayward followers of theater troupes. Supporters of different performers - “idols” as they are called - seem to harbor a strong dislike towards each other. Amongst the most extreme folk, even dressing in the colors of an idol they oppose is enough to warrant a quarrel. Aeg’s black and red colors, and the many crimson roses which adorned his hat must have sent a vivid picture.

“One whole week I ordered in advance and waited for that poster and they ripped it out of my hands…”
“And my hat! They don’t have the remotest idea how much goes into it: finding the right roses, preserving them in wax, pinning it…”
“Fuckin’ ticks. Just when I was about to get home, too.” Aeg sighs in exasperation after venting about yesterday’s issues.

“Yeah. I understand it.”
“But that was damned dangerous: what if that pack of goblins had a giant or two with them? You running around the whole town like that - you won’t be in a fighting state should they decide to stand their ground.” While I do understand that his belongings - especially his hat - is dear to him, I reprimand such a reckless act. Spending the nightly hours chasing after a group, alone? That’s not going to end well. He got lucky that sleep deprivation and minor bruises were the only things he received.
( So this is what my sister must have felt, all those years ago, huh. )
“Yeah. I know. I know. I shouldn't of. I just—” The giant flops on the table, resting for a moment before murmuring the rest of his words. “i came close. so close, so many times. i could have gotten it all back. and now it’s- i don’t fuckin’ know. they probably pissed on that poster or some shit. ughhhhhhhh.” He dejectedly rises - briefly - to gulp down the cup of tea.

Mhm. Hold on. This could work in my favor. I’ve held off from discussing Airin’s concerns to him, but this could prove the leverage I need!

“Mhm. Say, you mentioned them to be - how - young?” My tone grows ever so slightly more venomous with each word spoken.

“… fifteen, sixteen, maybe seventeen year olds, I-”
“What is it that you are playing, Gal?” Aeg perks up pretty quick from that stupor, sitting upright almost immediately after my question.

“Ah. Well. I figured we might locate them and have a little… chat with their parents. I’m sure they would prefer it if their sons do not receive the - consequences - of theft in this district. Negotiate a deal of sorts. Perhaps compensate you for the damages. Better that than, well...” On my lips appear a smirk. Aeg expresses a different demeanor, one of panic and unease.

“Pft. It ain’t hard, Egg~”
“A trip to the textiles market: that is what, ten, maybe twenty minutes? Go back to that teahouse and ask for yesterday’s list of customers - do some cross-referencing, and… that’s another hour, at worst. All that’s left is knocking on doors. A couple. They are not hardened fellows.” Sensing his distress, I offer him an explanation of my methods, one in which will not land us in any legal trouble all the while achieving satisfaction.

“One, at least, will—”
“b r e a k.”

My lovely words seem to have the opposite reaction, unfortunately; Aeg does not appear convinced, even looks more horrified for some unknown reason. So I decided to step back a little, ease my revelry and try a more simplistic solution. “Err- that, or we could get you a new hat. Are you fond of black laces by any chance? I’ve seen—”

“You ain’t got to - do - any of this, Gal. At all.” Ugh. Hearing that sentence again makes me want to droop my head and sleep on the table also. I suppose I could argue with that, but for now, I let him continue.

“What is the matter you’ve been wanting to speak to me with, anyway?” The giant moves to another topic entirely. Shit.

“Ah. That.”
My attempt did not pan out - so I speak in earnest, this time.
“You need to cut back on how you treat the slaves. I cannot…”
“I cannot save you anymore.”
“All right? No more of-”
“You are - not - their colleague, Aeg. You walk away; you do not argue on their behalf. Not unless it is dire, and I mean, truly dire. Life or death. Or something very close.” I hate myself for delivering those words, and seeing his mournful eyes makes it even worse on my heart, but I did it anyway. He needs to hear it.

His eyes avert down, looking at his cup while contemplating which to say, or if he should say a thing at all.

“I cannot promise anything.”
“But I will try to. All right?” I give him a nod in response. It’s… a start, I suppose.

Both of us were ready to leave this conversation behind, but after a lengthy pause, Aeg speaks up again about those kids which took his items.

“I understand what you wish to do, but I ain’t about that, all right? They- they don’t deserve that. You beat them and move on - no- none of this.. underhanded, in-the-dark shit. You shouldn’t. I want my things back and see them punished, yeah, definitely, but it should be between us and me alone. That is - how - it is supposed to work.” Aeg has an odd sense of morality on which to do with those kids, but, all right, I shall hear him out. What shall be his play, I wonder.

“They will hang around that street again, that, I am certain. I will confront them. And squeeze them a little. Take their money and things - which will be returned if mine are. If you truly wish to help me, Gal, you need only to tell me where to find new hats and roses. That is all.” Being a crook, that is his play. Apparently.

How do I even respond to him?

>stand my ground - argue against his plan
I do not see this ending well for him. Perhaps we could come to some compromise - one which is not so illegal but ending up with those kids being taught a lesson or two.

Airin could be of help.

>stand by him - I help him directly with his plan
I suppose his thought does make sense - those kids need to be taught their actions have consequences, some of which are immediate. They get beaten and they live another day, as opposed to their parents making their lives hell for eternity or the entire district witnessing them being whipped.

I’ve been in fights before - I will not shy away from this one.

>accept his terms - no need for further arguments
I would rather not bother with it - he has already agreed to my terms, no point pushing my luck. I suppose I will overlook this… transgression, then. We are not at work right now. If such a thing helps him not drag other people’s dicks through the dirt, so be it.

I bow out.
>stand my ground - argue against his plan
I am willing to accept his plan, and even admit that up front. We can look for where he can find new hats and roses as he requested and only go that far for him if he wishes.

However, he should defend his stance under pointed examination.

I’d argue that the youths had no idea who he was when they assaulted him. No idea whether he would accept the loss, beat them as he proposes, do as we proposed and involve their families… or worse, if he happened to be the son of someone with true power in this city.

His is the simpler way of resolution, and can work in this circumstance, but is he doing people a disservice by taking the matter of their justice solely in his hands? The lesson that their actions can impact others they care or are beholden to is better taught in a less fraught manner, with someone like him who isn’t set on inflicting lasting harm, than from someone who is.

Our preference would still be to involve the families, as it is a straightforward way of showing their actions can spread to affect others. But he does not need to make demands of them as we would. If he will settle for only the return of his property and their knowledge that he chose to be gentle it seems both a lesson that serves better in life and restores what he has lost. We can accompany him instead if he needs the moral support to see it through.

It’s also a better way of thinking to support slaves. He can’t defend them at all times, he’ll need to settle for helping them help themselves later through gentle advice and teaching.

Maybe Gal can see how a non-bloodthirsty person can handle conflict resolution.
interesting argument, anon. supporting
I like this plan a lot. Good reasoning.

Supporting this write-in for
>stand my ground - argue against his plan

I also just want to say I like this cast of characters a lot, especially Aeg.
>stand my ground - argue against his plan
something like >>5889226
Find their families, but don't expose them yet
He can then confront them like he wants, but instead of a beating he just demands all his stuff back, or replaced if they ruined it. If they refuse we can reveal we know who they are and can involve the law and make this public, which will hopefully make them reconsider.
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Thanks! I think the emphasis on dialogue really made the personality of each characters stand out. I do enjoy writing them - especially how Gal and Airin speaks.


That write-in could be arranged.
Hello folks. I’ll be busy tonight - so a trivia instead of a full update - but I will have more time during tomorrow
—Trivia: Names—

My main considerations regarding names are their simplicity in pronunciation and writing - the meanings don't matter that much. Still, it does work out occasionally; Aeg in particular.

While the names are written to be as intuitive as possible to speak, due to putting Thai words into English, certain tones might not come through as well. I suppose closest to a pronunciation guide would be this:

Kommgal: Komm - gal!
(harsh descending tone on “gal”)

Airin: i - rin
Aeg: Aeg
(both are flat-tone)

Maeg: maeg!
(harsh descending tone)
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>feedback and suggestions

I have noticed we are on day 16 of this thread - nearly the halfway point now, assuming the board remains merciful. If you have the time, I would like some feedback. Any and all criticisms are welcome.

>what do you think of each update’s length? - Would you prefer it to be longer / shorter?

>what do you think of the dialogue and the characters? - Is it clear who is speaking? Do you prefer more / less emphasis on dialogue?

>what are the parts you like most / dislike most about the quest?

>which character(s) do you like the most - and why?

Thanks again for playing.
>update length
good, maybe a bit shorter
the single line posts like >>5889154
confound me, why not fit them into another
if it's for impact it can be spaced out

Painfully clear who is speaking when because our MC is cringe as fuck

>favorite/least favorite parts
Isn't it too soon to say? There have only been like half a dozen updates.
That said I like the vocabulary and word choice of your writing.

again too soon to say
>update length
seems good for me

very clear as of now

>favorite/least favorite parts
while it's kinda soon for something definitive, I liked the part where he bocchi in the elevator and the goblina helped him

while it's still early to say, the mc has been interesting
>what do you think of each update’s length? - Would you prefer it to be longer / shorter?
The current length seems fine to me.

>what do you think of the dialogue and the characters? - Is it clear who is speaking? Do you prefer more / less emphasis on dialogue?
I think dialogue tags more often are still definitely a good idea, especially when introducing a new character in a scene. It'll take us a few updates to start recognizing their verbal tics and tendencies, after all. As for the characters: I like them all quite a bit, with Aeg so far being my favorite.

>what are the parts you like most / dislike most about the quest?
The world-building and little glimpses into the fringes and subcultures of this persistent setting are my favourite part. I don't really have anything I dislike about the quest so far.
>Update length
>Insert joke about length and how you use it.
I don’t mind chunky narrative updates before a vote. You use it well in my opinion, and that gives you a lot of flex room for either direction still in my book.

In a way, all your updates are dialogue. The biggest difference to note is that sometimes Gal talks out loud instead of in his head.

Your characters seem more than just two-dimensional so dialogue between them is good to emphasize like you have been.

I was occasionally confused by line breaks in dialogue that DIDN’T indicate a change in speaker, but I adjusted quickly since the personalities are consistent enough to realize when switching is occurring.

>Like most
What >>5891305 said about the vocabulary and style you’re writing in, it’s different from my usual.
The overall content is depressing in various ways, but I acknowledge that’s not a bad thing for a story or quest. The fact that things are getting somewhat better for Gal keeps it from being a deal-breaker, though if this wasn’t a one-shot I’d probably check after a couple threads and see where anons initially took Gal as a character before voting much. Anons are always a wildcard.

Probably Airin. Gal and Aeg are dysfunctional in ways that hit closer to home.

I have noticed a roughly 50% decline in ellipses per post. It could drop further, but the lower saturation makes the pauses more meaningful. I can now accept it as a character quirk rather than a writing tic. I’m happy about that!
>the single line posts like >>5889154 confound me, why not fit them into another
if it's for impact it can be spaced out

That’s mainly for impact. I prefer to do it this way because 4chan sometimes compresses them to be 1 line apart instead of 5 lines apart. Not sure why.

>>5891808 #
>I was occasionally confused by line breaks in dialogue that DIDN’T indicate a change in speaker, but I adjusted quickly since the personalities are consistent enough to realize when switching is occurring.

I use the long linebreaks for interruption and pauses. Example is >>5884717 and >>5889155

Thanks for all the feedback!
Empty lines get compressed, try this

Impact line
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Updating tonight.

Here’s a sneakpeek.
>stand my ground - argue against his plan

Both of us want to see those kids punished, not scarred; to that end, Aeg is willing to commit onto them assault and robbery. I admire the conviction — less so the method. I don’t wish to see him in stocks or his ears clipped in the following weeks. No. I cannot lose him.

Before doing any arguing, I ask him to produce a map.

“This street. At the corner I believe there to be - at least - two florists.”
“And this one.”
“I find them excellent in the summer, and you can add bits and pieces of all sorts to them.” Aeg adds another note to the already densely packed map upon my suggestions.

With that done - and after a deep breath - I ask the validity of his plan.

>WRITE-IN: ask Aeg to stand his ground

“You mentioned earlier those kids took your things - the very moment - you were not looking? And by time you saw them again, they were running away, is that correct?” After a moment of contemplation, Aeg nods to my question.

“I think this is a crime of opportunity - committed with impulse as opposed to genuine hatred of the idol you follow. Stealing from a fighting man - I doubt it, they would do that willingly. You have the resources. You have the faculties. And you certainly got a reason to go after them. These kids- they’re just retarded. I don’t believe they would learn anything if—” With each word spoken, his eyes grow more narrow and his brows increasingly furrowed.

“That’s a - hell - of a thing to say, Gal.” Exasperated, he takes a moment to simmer down before continuing. “No. The intent itself matters, above all. Those kids could have taken a meat skewer from me and my response would BARELY change. If I let this go, if I let them live freely…”

Aeg looks away. The anger in his voice subsides, and what comes after is melancholic.

“I’ve seen younger folk die for less. Much. Much less. Have you - any - idea what a pack of thirteen, fourteen years old could do, if they believe they could do whatever, take whatever without problem?” Melancholic, but earnest words.

“I do.” And so are mine.

Looking at Aeg now, his expression softens - we both are tired. Tired of everything. All the suffering, the killing, the rape, the blood which follows low company. It’s just our method of preventing such differs.

>WRITE-IN: question the necessity of his plan

“It’s just-”
“You do this, they might get their brothers, their cousins, their other friends to back up on you again.”
“But…” Sorrow fades from my eyes as I propose my solution.

“If we could find them, pay a visit to their houses, and subtly ask them to return your things - or ask for compensation if they broke it, I suppose - we could keep this between us and them. No harm. No foul. Not a word to their parents, everyone walks undisturbed, AND they get taught a lesson.” A faint cheeriness returns to my words.
“And… if they don’t?” Stress fades from his expression as Aeg listens to my proposal.

“Mhm~” Finally at leisure, I press a palm to my throat while pondering all the wonderful possibilities.

Oh, where to start? Aside from the fines, the nature of the crime (that being an organized effort) means pushing for a public lashing will not be hard: the minimum for theft is fifteen. If I could get Airin involved, and should she push hard enough, they might be paraded around town while being flogged. That’ll certainly linger over them - and their parents - for some months. And that’s just them alone. We could have them barred from that teahouse if we wished—
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( For a period of time, I discussed the many forms of retaliation which could be taken should those kids not comply with Aeg’s requests. Most were legal. )

( We had… lively times. It felt good, recalling all those incidents in which such information came in handy. I could never forget the expression of those slavemasters. Heh. )
By the end of it all, Aeg seems somewhat convinced; the current plan is to find their current whereabouts from that teahouse in the textile markets and proceed from there. He will beat them if he must, but the first response would be a negotiation.

“Y- yeah. Uh- Hey. I gotta bow out. I’ll see you there, three in the afternoon.” Exhaustion takes hold of Aeg fully by the late morning. He’ll be heading home to sleep for some hours - pausing our investigation for the time being.

And so too I bow out.

From the late morning to the afternoon, I was mostly concerned with food or laundry, mixed in with the occasional study of accountancy and areas of Oceankeep while waiting for the clothes to dry.

… huh. I do not recall this mail being here this morning. I suppose I could open it after all the shirts are stored.

… oh. This is something.

Maeg has business in Oceankeep: a meeting with Serpents in construction. The bakery was recently damaged in an earthquake and she is looking to repair it immediately — within two days, she will arrive in this province. She apologizes for the short notice, and asks to stay at my house.

‘… the bearberry pies and jam are in excellent health.’ Her little comments are still as endearing as ever. Ha!
I am twenty-five years of age, so she must be thirty, I believe. Thirty one? I wonder how she will look this year. How silky her hair would be in my grasp, I wonder. What sort of fragrance will she use? These past few months felt so long without her.

… anyway!

I will deal with that later. The afternoon is nearing its end - I should prepare a couple things before I go on this investigation with Aeg. The basket-hilt sword and secret [metal cap] underneath my hat are essential, of course, but I also bring…

>extra sets of clothing [CONCEALMENT]
My breeches can hold a staggering amount of these - with a minute out of sight, we can become very difficult to track. Might come in handy if we are being followed.

*Mutually exclusive with padded garments*

>padded garments [DEFENSE]
I could wear a gamberson shirt underneath my usual one and line my breeches with padded cloth - this will stop most cuts and thrusts, and cushion most blows, however, I will not be able store anything else inside my breeches.

*Mutually exclusive with extra sets of clothing*

>alehouse dagger [DETERRENCE]
A basket-hilt dagger with a 12 inch blade - the lengthy blade and many iron bars around the handle allows it to stand its ground against swords or other hand weapons alike while serving as a fine secondary weapon.

Wearing it will make me easier to spot, though.
>padded garments [DEFENSE]
>alehouse dagger [DETERRENCE]
>extra sets of clothing [CONCEALMENT]
I am more concerned with how others may speak of our actions so I’ll go
>extra sets of clothing [CONCEALMENT]

We can say we didn’t go out looking for a fight, and the fact we’re involved anyway in this could speak to the fact that our best weapons aren’t ones you carry on your person.
>extra sets of clothing [CONCEALMENT]
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sneakpeek of the writing.
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Can’t update tonight. Here is art instead.
Looks like Aeg could use Gal’s head like an arm rest. Is he a giant or are the others that short?
He's literally a giant
Referred to as one here >>5889152
>“Uh. Heya.” Wearily the giant acknowledges me as I approach.

Again here >>5889155
>“Yeah. I know. I know. I shouldn't of. I just—” The giant flops on the table, resting for a moment before murmuring the rest of his words.

Likely other places too
The dream team! If they actually liked each other. Are we the only one at our company who doesn't wear red and black? Is it because we're prone to White Knighting? kek
I suppose that’s clear enough!
The proportions are a little downplayed for the sake of this drawing. Aeg is twice of Gal’s height and Gal is twice of Airin’s height. This picture matches the real proportions much better>>5882855
This one too.
>Near a wall plastered with broadsides is where Aeg stands, currently flipping through a note - the contents of which I am not quite tall enough to see.

If you look at the picture he’s holding the note at waist height >>5889152
Updating tomorrow morning. See you all soon.
See you soon, QM!
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Not very long ago.

>extra sets of clothing

It is tempting to stuff myself with the toughest fabrics and to carry the dagger as to better defend myself should I get waylaid, but that would not look well legally; to carry one could be explained away as someone cautious. To carry both would mark someone as exceptionally paranoid — or looking for a fight. Avoiding trouble entirely would be best - to that end, having spare sets of clothing in my breeches would do finely. It will not stop a cut or thrust as effectively, no, but the shirts and hoses could blunten a handful of strikes.

Ah. Scavenging the depths of my closet did unearth a few memories. Looking at my midnight blue dresses now, I can recall the days when I took gunplay more seriously. All manner of folks took part in the shooting club’s little excursion to the city outskirts, and I had lively times talking to them.

It did not last.

We all… had our own obligations: work, family, friends, or other matters - they leave little room for ourselves. Out of the five of us, I believe only Aeg still follows gunnery. Such is life, I suppose.

A bittersweet feeling - mostly bitter - lingers in my throat as I finish dressing up. While the sword sits comfortably on my waist, and its components are excellent - the blued finish still firmly remains on the pommel and the bits of metal which wrap around the hilt, the sharkskin grip clings to the hand, and the blade can turn quickly enough - I can still —vividly— recall the time I drew it in defense of others. It was a woman whom I had no acquaintance with.

Getting sued for harming that rotten thing she calls her paramour was very endearing of her. I did not inconvenience my parents enough in my younger years, anyway. Being interrogated by those mages while partly deafened was lots of laughs too.

… tch.

After choosing my plainest, most worn out, broad-brimmed hat and a secret to go underneath it, I leave the house - and any more rumination - behind.

The foot traffic was not substantially more than the morning hours; returning to the restaurant took little over thirty minutes.

Standing in front of the eating place is an Aeg that looks partly more presentable: his hair is less wayward and curled, and the hose he now wears - both of it - tightly cling to his legs. With a couple waves of my hat, I got his attention. And so we depart.

Sunlight grows scarce as we enter the textile-selling side of the market; sprouting from many stalls and storefronts on each side of the street are strips of fabrics, hanging above us as if they were blankets. The path is a little condensed - owing to the less established vendors forgoing carts or tables in favor of mats. Only the occasional group wonders through here at this time of day, but I still keep my pace quick and my hands at waist-height - as defense against cutpurses more than anything.
( Aside from the occasional gesture or brief question regarding direction, we did not talk much on the way there. I doubt those kids have any supporters here - but I can never be too sure. )
The teahouse in question is more accurately described as a great hall - with few, but lengthy benches and tables more fitting for large gatherings and meals than minor refreshments. To accommodate the different proportions, the interior is split into three sections - one for the race of giant, man, and goblin, each seperated by rows of wide cloth dividers not dissimilar to ones I’ve seen underground.

( It must have been quite the feat for five people half my height to snatch a poster and hat from a table that tall so rapidly - even I would need a moment to climb up the bench. Interesting. )

While Aeg is busy asking the employees about yesterday’s events, I give the sparsely filled teahouse a glance. Nothing unusual so far - the few people which are here looked at us for a moment when we entered before resuming their activities.

“The folk you are referring to, mister, - might - be the same who skipped out on their bill. We… do not recall seeing them before yesterday — and we’ve yet to see them since.” A goblin cook recounts yesterday’s encounter with those kids. Hmph. This goes beyond simple theft, then.

“They claimed to be a group of seven - with two yet to arrive - when they ordered their toasts. They didn’t. The names which they used while ordering - I suspect - are fakes. But we kept them regardless.” From underneath the countertop, she brings out a handful of notes. We both take a look at it and copy them down.

… well, they definitely know what they’re doing - somewhat - at least. Their orders weren’t the most expensive and neither were they too great for a group of seven to consume.

“They left some of it unfinished- untouched, even. We did not think much of it at the time.” Dejectedly, she recalls her misstep.

“It was a busy night - always is, especially after the troupes have finished their plays. People, y’know, want something to eat or drink before going home. A lot of people.”
“Those five. I am certain one has- uh—” She looks up to address Aeg. “-Yellow hair, much like you yourself, mister.”

“And another - tallest of the bunch, the... bun. The hairbun. On his head. It has a very shiny hairpin stuck through it.” The goblin lists off another detail she remembered.

Now this is interesting. They’re not completely amateurs, but the fact Aeg was the last to see them means they decided to take his things on their way out - it WAS a crime of opportunity! They’re hopping from one place to another for free food, occasionally stealing things if circumstances permit. A roaming band of immature kids who believes themselves to be invincible.

My grace only extends so far…

“Thanks for the information, ma’am. Do you know of any other businesses which those kids might have skipped out on?” She takes a moment to ponder my question before frowning.
“Around here? I don’t know. But I know if they did not cheat the cart vendors: they could not get away cleanly. Too many witnesses. Too public.” The goblin cook gives an astute answer.

With this in mind, I do have a few ideas. On one hand, we could visit other teahouses or restaurants in the textile market - warn them discreetly so those kids do not have “the drop” on them. It’s legal, sure, but I’m not sure how volatile those kids can be - they’ve shown me that much.

On the other hand, we could waylaid them like Aeg said earlier. There’s not as many eating places in here compared to the wet market, sure, but it is plenty. I doubt they’re the type to avoid an entire street after swindling a single teahouse - were they that cautious, they would not risk taking Aeg’s hat and poster.

I suppose another option would be to consult Airin about it. This situation has escalated pretty heavily, and maybe it’s best if we let the legal advisor instruct us on which to do next. I believe she is available in the evening.

My plan should be..

>remain at textile market — warn the other eating places

>remain at textile market — waylaid those five kids

>stay my hand — consult Airin
sorry for the late update. Writer’s block is… tough. I got the plotlines and plotpoints down, but transitioning from point A to point B to point C smoothly is not the easiest thing.
>stay my hand — consult Airin
I feel you, QM. I use days like that to do more mellow posts with lore exploration but without any major forward momentum. Not sure if that would help you at all?
>>remain at textile market — warn the other eating places
If only we were ROLLING we could waylay the fuck outta those kids
>stay my hand — consult Airin
Can we dip through the area and search for them regardless? Any legal option is constrained without knowledge of the perpetrators.

We don’t need to confront them yet. We have spare clothes, and can search for anything we have interest in along the way.
That would first fall under
>remain at textile market — warn the other eating places
As you are searching through the area but yeah I get what you mean. Search through the area and then go talk to Airin. I could write that in. Those two options do not contradict each other unlike choosing the waylay option.
>stay my hand — consult Airin
quick question anon, what are your thoughts on lady knights ? ;)
They're aight. Wrong QM
Alright, it’s that they also like to do lore posts when stuck
Currently a tie technically speaking. >>5897770 can you confirm which choice do you want to make again?
I usually do something similar whenever I cannot update - Trivia.

Current trivia:




If there is no answer, I will consider
>consult Airin
as the final result and write accordingly. If I cannot finish it tonight then there will be another trivia - regarding the “shooting clubs better days” in particular.
you could roll the dice for the tie, if it comes to it
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Can’t update tonight.
Here’s WIP art instead.
I must say I am getting fond of this bleed brush. Churned it out in an hour almost.
Sorry, missed your earlier request for clarification. I saw the post regarding trivia and didn’t think to scroll up further.

I would have backed
>consult Airin
ultimately so no worries.

The tired look of someone who doesn’t have enough caffeine in their system to shrug off the BS they’ve been through so far today and is trying to rectify that.

—Trivia: hōjutsu & firearms—

I primarily based the shooting club on the real life Matsumoto Gun Corps of Japan - a group dedicated to preservation and usage of firearms.

Clothing based on the ones in this video


As for the firearms, they are matchlock arquebuses. These ‘Tanegashima’ - called such due to the island being where the Japanese first acquired them from the Portuguese - have a very short stock: this is due to how they are used, that being, held against the cheek as demonstrated here: ( https://youtu.be/2XtcDZDARUI?si=0N-VXYkZQMg74s6A ) although they can definitely be fired from the hip / point shooting. As seen in the picture, they can be stabilized on pavises - or if the soldier is in a fortress - specifically made holes in the walls.

European long guns, aside from having a more conventional stock, are often paired with a fork. ( https://youtu.be/Yzf0ZiVr9qw?si=PGYoUlv7ts6MSmz0 )


Firearms of the early modern era are classified based on their firing mechanisms.

‘Matchlocks’ use a slowmatch, essentially a rope chemically treated and lit - ideally - on both ends. They are then held by a serpentine on the gun, and once ready to fire, the user will open the pan, pull the trigger, sending the slowmatch down and igniting the pan’s gunpowder which in turn ignites the main charge.

‘Wheelocks’ are much more expensive but less finicky. They use a wheel which is wound up and when the trigger is pulled, it spins against a piece of pyrite held by a clamp which generates sparks to ignite the pan.

‘Flintlocks’ are more expensive than matchlocks - which is why some countries like England still use them in the civil war during the 1640s* - but less expensive than wheellocks. They use a flint to generate sparks.

There’s a lot more to it than these three designs - snaphaunces, doglocks, miquelet locks, etc - but this is a general overview.

*The cavalry units use ‘doglock’ which is essentially an early form of flintlock. It has a ‘dog’ as a safety catch instead of the half-cock.
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>In Loveless Gal

The technology level of firearms is in the early ~1600s - muzzleloading matchlock firearms are the primary type you’ll see in the hands of hunters and infantry. Wheellocks and flintlocks, occasionally, in the hands of wealthy hunters or cavalry units. And most crucially, during this time period, plate armor is still able to stop and deflect bullets. Reiters and cuirassiers dressed in three-quarters armor are still prevalent.

Multiple-shot guns do exist in history - and by extension, here as well - but they are costly, complicated to repair and rarely seen.
( https://x.com/thearmour/status/1744738130564137028?s=46&t=Hb7ydsjhPlpAWWOp2X4lDA )

As for legality… it’s complicated.

>Thai history
Firearms (or armaments in general) are one of many items forbidden by the government during this time - they cannot be sold or bought by citizens or foreign merchants, unless done by a government intermediary.

Although it has yet to come up, this is reflected in Loveless Gal by having a ‘may-issue’ basis when it comes to weapons. Can you legally own and carry a 50 inch rapier? ( https://youtu.be/8GsGKv9hKko?si=gylOUItB2uHLU7N_ ) Most certainly, if you have the money for it and do not carry it into certain buildings. How fast? That really depends if you’ve got an intermediary that likes you or not.
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very nice
Oof. Really feeling that vibe now with the extra downward sag above the eye and the crease underneath it.

Get some sleep Airin. You clearly need it.
>stay my hand — consult Airin

The situation has not developed as expected: those kids have screwed over more people than we thought, and we are barely a step closer to discovering their identities. I don’t intend to linger here and possibly get caught in between them and another party they might have crossed, but a quick search before we take this issue to Airin could prove useful. Aeg agrees to it also.

Our search leads us firstly to a restaurant of ten-minute’s walk from the teahouse; one in which Aeg mentions to have passed while chasing those kids yesterday.

“No, those fellows are not acquainted with me. I have - on occasion - seen that entire pack pass by this street during the afternoon hours… but they were rare.” An interview with the elderly owner yields another detail: those five are passing through, most of the time. Interesting.

With that at hand, our investigative efforts went to eating places and grocer shops. It did not pan out; they too provided sparse details regarding the features or characters of these five kids, but one prominent fact keeps getting repeated.

“That kid had a white complexion on his hands. I believe it to be a skin-related matter.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen him a bunch. A quiet sort - didn’t know him that well. He had dots on his- on his fingers were these… these.. pale, white dots, like someone replaced a piece of his skin with ivory.”
“The back of his hand - along with his fingers - was white in color. I did not ask him about the condition but he appears to be in excellent health, if a tad timid.”

Some fifteen years old with white dots on his hands. How that came to be, that’s mainly speculation on their part: some believe it to be a minor skin-disease, others think of it as the effects of handling acidic fruits, a few stated it was a byproduct of strong cleaning agents, and a handful told us it was a rash left untreated. Even Aeg does not know fully which to believe, and we don’t.

A kid with yellow hair similar to Aeg — to dye his hair such requires lime-based acids; most commonly done by barbers affiliated with fruit vendors.
A kid with white dots on his hands — I am unsure about this one: a cook’s assistant? A fruit vendor’s kid? A child of a criminal working in sewer sanitation? There are a lot of possibilities.
A kid with a silvery hairpin and hairbun — he (or his parents, rather) must possess a degree of wealth for him to be dressed in such.

… that’s all I could think of at the moment.

With the details growing sparse and more feets appearing in the street, we bow out. We need to see Airin.

While much like myself, she does travel to see her clients if circumstances require it, generally she resides in an office of Nagel’s Company.
( It must have five in the evening when we finally reached the north of Oceankeep - the foot traffic made it so - but approaching the building proved not necessary after all. )
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Leaving a roadside vendor is a goblin with a colossal bag on one hand and an equally large cup on the other. Beneath the hat greatly embellished with white plumes is a - very - tired Airin. Her eyes are weary and partly open. Even her fleshy and tough arms are barely able to drag themselves along at a go-as-you-please walk.

After greeting her, we walked alongside her and asked if she was available for a talk, as currently we have a legal matter in need of advising.

“In that case…”
“I believe it to be…”
“If we are to discuss that matter-” Airin drawls and takes frequent pauses to sip from her coffee-laden cup. “-at my house. I much rather.”
“… than spend more time at a street.”
“Lacking in both privacy...”
“And coffee - the which - I find to have…”
“Few qualities excepting convenience.”

Even with her failing voice and seemingly arms, her pace remains a quick one. By time we approached her doorstep, a portion of her strength returned and she opened such so rapidly it took a moment to realize the key was even present in her hand.

Uh. Ugh, god. Damn it all.
Just sitting in someone else’s withdrawing room feels wrong. I wished to assist her with snacks or beverages or any other chores but Airin assured me such is none of my obligation, but hers.

( Right. Yeah. I’ve.. I have done nothing wrong. I have done nothing. Nothing wrong. Hah. No, no, nothing wrong. That does not- I am not taken advantage of hospitality. I’m not! It’s just— it is merely water. I.. I don’t. I don’t need to- I am not a poor guest, no. No. That.. does not qualify, does it? )

“It is fine, Gal. We’ll be all right. Simmer down.” A tap on my shoulder from Aeg jolts me out of fidgeting with my increasingly sweaty fingers. My breath - which was becoming shallower until then - grew full once more.

The moments she left the room to fetch us a drink felt much longer than it really should have been, but eventually she did return; with a jar of water thoroughly adorned with fruits and a cup for each of us. A brisk and refreshing drink that I—

Nevermind it.
Let’s just—

Those kids. That is all I shall focus on. No more of this nonsense.
“.. I believe your best chance is that white-handed kid. And. The- er— the kid with fair hair, that, and him. Those two seem most likely to live near each other.” With the information given, Airin forms a rough guideline on which to do.

“Tomorrow morning - if time permits - check the fruit markets, especially on these fringe streets.” Pressing her finger on a map wider in size and more detailed than Aeg’s, Airin points to a particular zone.

“Tread lightly; these- this entire row. These are low-income — low development areas. Find where they live and you should find those other three shortly.” Her finger does a circling motion on the left side of the map.

“If they just are passing through the textile market - and the things you’ve mentioned earlier were indeed spur-of-the-moment acts - I believe it is the wet markets which they most frequently dwell at - large enough to get away with things, good food, and lots of opportunities to make money from all the competition there.” Her finger points to the middle.

According to her, trying to find them now is… ill-advised. The wet markets during the evening - assuming you do not know precisely where to look - is too large of a place to cover effectively with two people. With how condensed everything is, even if we somehow caught them, they could slip away much easier than if they were in the textile market.

Since we’re in the north-east of town, getting back to the textile market would not yield much result; they likely passed that already.

“And if we wait for them around... this? These streets, just before those fringes?” Aeg raises a question - instead of trying to find them before they slip away, we could wait for them right before they come home and follow them that way. Just observation.

She agrees that - is - possible, but the nightly hours of those areas can prove quarrelsome. It’s certainly a fast way of going about it, though.

What should we do?

>Visit the fruit market — tonight
A more dangerous option of the two, but more likely we can catch all five at once, or very close to it. We gather information and get out - the negotiations come later.

>Visit the fruit market — tomorrow
A safer option of the two; the dawn offers a wider audience and faster response time should those kids decide to try something. They will not be able to get away with crimes as easily.
As for Airin…


Well, she’s a little tired - most certainly, it has been a long day. And I am pleased she entertained our request in spite of that. Aeg has since left after we decided on the plan, so now that we’re alone, I… I wish to say something to her.

>Ask her about her current work and problems
It has been a long day, perhaps longer than usual. I mean to know which ails her - as to better understand and deal with it. She spared time for me, after all. I should do the same.

“You look a little tired. How was work?”

>Promise to pay her back later for this
Time and time again I have been assisted by her, and I wish to give something in return. I owe her coffee, at the very least. And a meal, too.

“For that, I owe you dinner, or supper, at least.”

>I would like to see her more often
In earnest, I - to my surprise - enjoy her company. I wish to have more of those conversations with her again. Maybe… I could ask her for such an arrangement?

“Uh- hey. About yesterday. I.. I have- I enjoyed that trip. I would like to.. go on such - maybe not of like caliber - with you. I would like to talk to you again.”
>Visit the fruit market — tomorrow
>Promise to pay her back later for this
small steps for our boy
>Visit the fruit market — tonight
My heart burns for justice! Also, expediency.

>Promise to pay her back later for this
Let's not spook her. Or ourself. Plus, Aeg's here and we're already sweaty-palmed and panicking. Let's not spill our spaghetti white-knighting for her, stress-puke in her house trying to ask her out.
>Visit the fruit market — tomorrow

>Promise to pay her back later for this
technically Aeg isn’t here currently
“.. Aeg has since left after we decided on the plan, so now that we’re alone, I… I wish to say something to her.”
but i get what you mean

he has quite literally, sworn to it.
>technically Aeg isn’t here currently
Oh jeez, somehow speed-read past that. Still keeping my vote the same, though I may add
>Ask her about her current work and problems to>>5902627
>Ask her about her current work and problems.
>Promise to pay her back later for this

I see no reason we can't do both? Express some concern and passing interest at her work then as we take our leave suggest we treat her sometime for her hospitality and assistance.
Yeah you could do both. Apologies if I did not made it clear - you can technically choose all three options if you’d like, but the third is much romantic in nature while the other two are more neutral.
Also I’m not sure why but I did not see your comment for the longest time - this has happened twice now. The thread was stuck on 166 replies but when I clicked on it, your comment >>5902926 was present. Same with >>5899929

Not sure if this is a wifi or a server issue.
Alright, the consensus seems to be

>visit tomorrow
>ask her about work
>promise to pay her back

If things go well, I should be able to update in the evening.
>Visit the fruit market — tonight
We did gear up for concealment, and if Aeg keeps his distance then we’re less likely to be recognized regardless. This group never robbed us, after all.

>Ask her about her current work and problems
>Promise to pay her back later for this
Work is a safe topic, if dry and uninteresting, but it is an opportunity to prove/disprove how attentive we are which is always good with others. Also, since she’s done us a personal favor (helping Aeg recover his goods was something we decided on for our own reasons) it deserves acknowledgement. Supper feels appropriate.

I’m unwilling to do the romantic option yet, it feels like it’s moving a bit fast for both Gal and Airin. Her opinion of us was fairly low when we first “caught” her in the one bookstore. Better to see more of her in an informal setting and see how well we “click”.

Which is the whole point of dating, but the second option is a date even if Gal doesn’t think of it like that yet. Airin might and calibrate appropriately to his later surprise, but I doubt Gal would mind a woman who made the “first” move.
Ah, took too long to type up my vote.

Even if I’d been earlier I’d have been amenable to waiting until tomorrow instead of acting tonight. Both represent progress.
Hold up. Let me double check things real quick.

Tomorrow - promise

Ask - Promise
(Did not specify if the visit is tomorrow / tonight)

I presume this is the same person
Tonight - ask - promise

tomorrow - promise

tonight - ask - promise

Huh. It’s actually a perfect split between visiting tomorrow and tonight. Tomorrow will be a busy day for me - I’ll check this again in the late afternoon.
I’ll break the tie by going
>Visit the fruit market — tomorrow
instead of my original. That makes it 3v1 in favor.
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>mfw accidentally slams my elbow into a wall
Shit still hurts some two hours after. Nothing serious, just a bruise, but yeah.

Cannot update tonight, and I’ll be pretty busy during this weekend — the update’s definitely coming but I’m not sure if the art will be there or not.
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—Trivia: the different races—

Buddhist mythology was my main inspiration for the races.

>Giants (Yaksha, Yuk)
There are many types of giants, classified by how they are born: some are born as an adult, some are born from sweat, and some are born inside the womb normally. How powerful and beautiful they are depends on their previous life’s deeds - some live in heaven while others dwell in caves (these ones tend to be dwarfs). Their skin color varies: dark green, red, pink, white, blue or even yellow. When angered, their fangs flare out like a boar’s tusks.

In religious architecture and literature, they [the benevolent ones, at least] are often depicted as guardians of a location, whether that be a city, a forest or cave. In such cases, they are most commonly depicted with a baton. Length usually varies but the statues I’ve seen are about armpit height if held straight.

>Serpents (Naga, Narg)
Large snakes who are known for their venom and their role as deities of the rivers and oceans - they hold power over water, and according to legend, are responsible for rainfall and the amount of water present in each year.

Their appearance varies: some have multiple heads while others only have one, and some - who have magic powers - can appear as human.

>Birdmen “Messengers” (Garuda, Krut)
Red skinned, large avian humanoids - whose appearance can range from “human with wings” to “basically a bird but bipedal” - are vehicles of deities, Narai (Vishnu) in particular (Hindu mythology tends to bleed over a little.)

They don’t get along with the serpents. At all. One was entrusted with immortality and the burden to act as vehicles for deities, and the other wasn’t.
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>In Loveless Gal

I’ve turned the cave-dwelling giants into goblins - short in stature, and large-eared to better hear sounds. Dark green in color. Height is half of humans.

Generally red-skinned, and twice as tall as humans. I’ve kept the “bare teeth when angered” trait.

In Loveless Gal they are behind the city-wide tunnels, elevator systems, and the dream-inducing drugs — demonstrating their mastery over construction and medicine, which are an extrapolation of their power over water and their powerful venom.

Oh, don’t worry, you’ll meet one real soon. There’s a very particular reason Gal mentions being interrogated by mages in the past. If any of you played Dishonored, you can probably figure out who this is supposed to be.
Arm’s feeling a lot better now.

I'm glad!

Cool insight int a very neat core group of races.
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Sneakpeek of update.

FYI: Airin is drinking "Posca" — essentially the roman equivalent of an energy drink.
Updating tonight.
>visit the fruit market — tomorrow

I trust Airin in this matter - being torn up, or killed, over a hat and a poster? Simply not worth it. I’d rather not see myself in court again if that too could be avoided.

“No shoes, no hosen either - those are clear signs of someone a lot more well-to-do than folks which dwell in those streets. Avoid those. Entirely.”
“Six in the morning is when the fruit markets reach their full breadth - you should already be there before then. Five, five thirty the very latest.”
“Those cook shops? I advise against it. Their ovens… they aren’t that hot or reliable. Best if you cook your own breakfast and eat before you enter the district at all.” While going over tomorrow’s plans, Airin frequently points out the — many — particulars pertaining to this type of environment.

( Wow. She is… She knows this sort of thing rather dearly, huh. I’d never figured. )

Our conversation takes us to the evening far sooner than expected. Aeg was the first to leave after the plans were finalized - he had an arrangement with a florist.

It was just me and her once more. Before taking my leave, I decided to say a few words.

>Ask her about her current work and problems

“Uh- Hey. You look - a little - tired. How was work?” Airin lightly exhales in amusement upon hearing that.

“You don’t got-” she pauses to take a sip from a metallic cup. What she drinks is not coffee, no, all of that went down her throat hours ago, but instead a bronze-colored drink made from water and a tad of sour wine. “-the remotest idea.”
“It has been quite the damned week - the which, always is during the last days of the year-” Airin takes another gulp of the refreshment. “-but these last few clients are something else…”
“hugh—” Looking down, Airin notices her cup is nearly empty.

My hands were already on the jar before she asked. Her nod prompts me to pour and keep pouring, and pouring. Only when the water level nearly eclipses the lip does she tell me to stop. I don’t recall Aeg or even the slaves drinking — this — much (diluted it may be) vinegar. That… does not seem healthy.

“Being a legal advisor is more hazardous to me than any drink could hope to match.” Airin notices - and brushes off - my concerns before proceeding with her rant.

Over the course of twenty minutes (or so), she does indeed prove correct on her assertion. Just hearing about the length and frequency of her consultations alone is nauseating - and the fact so many of those follow-up appointments could have been avoided had they — actually — heeded her advice made it so much worse. And speaking of being retarded, was it so fucking hard to ask her questions when they do not fully understand a matter? Ugh. I can’t imagine how grating it must have been to hear that in person.

“You’ve got anything of the sort?” After finishing her rant, she asks me to share my own stories.
Well. If I were to do this, to list my annoyances in its full breadth and length, our conversation might take us to midnight. So probably not. But there is one which comes to mind. One which stirred me so deeply, wounded me so strongly, I cannot…

I suppose it can not hurt - anymore than it already did - to share. With a full breath, I steady myself.

Most of the particulars in my youth I mention in passing.

“It was during the summer months, roughly five years ago. I followed accountancy, and I was… reaching the end of my apprenticeship. I worked for a publishing house—” Pain and dread reappears in my chest, stifling any more of my words.

Airin wordlessly pours me a cup of the sour wine mixture. I take a sip of that immediately. It stings the throat and rots the tongue, but it does feel invigorating enough.

“—it was during an evening. I had noticed a woman - a few inches smaller than you, actually - had a face which appeared bruised. I caught a glimpse of it when she adjusted her hat while carrying groceries. I was-”
“I felt it queer but did not say more of it. I didn’t think deeply about it.” More pain lingers in my throat after saying such, but I swallow it down. Another gulp of that drink also helps.

“I had a dream that night. I was approached by a messenger — he wasn’t- he did not closely resemble ones depicted in monasteries and tapestries. He was large, and red-skinned, yes, but excepting his head - which was that of an eagle - he did not possess any other avian-like trait.”
“He took an interest in me: ‘rare it is to see someone take on a group as large as five - and win out in the play.’ is what he said. He found it curious why I did so, and then went on to say I am to cross paths with someone very soon, and the fight which comes of such would be the most difficult thing I would face.” My eyes narrow and a frown appears on my lips momentarily.

“He asked if I- if I wanted to lend his strength. I agreed.” I excuse myself for a moment to fetch my sword - the which is currently on a stand resting next to the door.

Returning to the withdrawing room with the sword on my lap, my fingers rest on the sharkskin grip - a worn out thing whose pristine white nature has given away to a pale grey hue. “He would call down thunder for me, should I have with me anything aquatic.” My head droops in anticipation of that part of the story.

“I dismissed it as a mere dream at first when I woke up, but on that evening, I saw her again - this time being yelled at and repeatedly struck by a giant who appears to be her lover. Not a damned person intervened. Not one. Not the giants. Not man. Not a damned thing done. Some thirty, forty people in the fish market and nothing.”
“I drew against him and told him to leave her be.”
“His hands went for me next. He was not dissuaded after a cut to it.”
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“So cast down I did.” Looking at the hilt now, I can still feel what it was like when lightning touched the blade for the first - and last - time. It was powerful, blindingly so. I could have struck him down so easily, but I didn’t. I let it pass to the ground, the lightning only bouncing to his calf as it does so. Those burns took away any fight left in him.

For a moment, I felt my blood hot again. I was a ten-year old once more, standing against someone - this time - actually harmful to women.

“Ah. I think I have heard of it.” Airin wearily recognizes the events which soon followed even before I say anything.

A lawsuit. Not from that giant, no, but her. That woman. Amournrana. For some fucking reason she - and she not alone in this - believe it to be an excessive use of force. And persistent she was in getting me to pay for the damages done to her paramour. The public wasn’t the only one who questioned such, of course - those “players-of-art” as they were called, were also present during my trials to see if my use of the “art” was justifiable in terms of self-defense and defense of others, but even they recognized it sooner than those folks did.

It was just… a complete waste of time and money. My family’s time and money. My mother’s time and money. As for the publishing house, they cut me loose the second my apprenticeship ended. I was someone else’s problem now.

A footnote in the never-ending stacks of broadsheets - that’s what I amounted to. A fucked up thing who - against all odds - manage to fuck up so badly I had to leave the province, the entire region entirely if I were to find employment.

( Quite the son I was. )

“That - is - some tough shit.” Taking residence next to me, Airin pats my shoulder. “It is… quite all right.”

( It took another while before my eyes stopped being watery and I regained my composure. It was… comforting, in a way, to air out such things. )

Uh. Wow. This matter has went on for far, far longer than I expected. I’ve inconvenienced her quite enough - let’s end things on a good note.
>Promise to pay her back later for this.

“… thanks for everything, today, Airin. I’ve- it means greatly to me. Thanks for your time. I owe you a drink- no, a dinner or supper, at least.” I state such in a sincere and unshaking tone, but Airin seems a little… uh.. she takes a moment to process my words in full.

“Uh. Yes.”
“Right now, actually!”
“Supper. I’ve got a meal - the which I would like see cooked. There is this cook shop which does it well. Not far from here. A portion of rice, eggs, minced meat and some basil. Could- could you do such?” Her voice wavers a little upon asking such a request.

… hah? I… I can certainly do such a thing, most definitely, but this.. uh- am I making her uncomfortable? Another dreadful feeling swells in my chest as I attempt to respond.

“Ah. Sure.”
“Yes, I could do such.”

A most horrible idea seeps its way to my mind - an extrapolation of disgusting logic. If she trusts me to handle her meal, does that mean she has enough trust in me that I could eat with her?

Ugh. That’s… that’s fucked. I really should be getting home right after this. It is just a meal. I don’t— I don’t need her presence to enjoy it. It’s just supper.

I decided to…

>ask if I could eat with her
I’ll do the dishes! And buy my own supper! I- I’m not- I won’t be a burden!

>take my leave after bring back the her meal
I’ve inconvenienced her enough. No need to push my luck. Had she wished for my presence she would have asked. She did not.
>take my leave after bring back the her meal
Eeeaasy, boy.
thing makes sense now. saving a woman ebing beat by her bf only for her to sue you is something that leaves you stung.
>ask if I could eat with her
galbros, I think she may be feeling something for our boy, small as it is
>take my leave after bring back the her meal
damn we're badass
hoping that guy put his gf up to the lawsuit
I think he had some issues already, given his hard siscon tendencies and extreme anger even as a kid.
Head’s up. Loveless Gal is about 70% finished. I’ll continue the rest in the second thread after one more update.
i assure you the incest is absolutely necessary
>ask if I could eat with her
I had expected to go to a restaurant or something similar and eat with her there while paying for it.

Regardless, I’m willing to push Gal a little. Even if it blows up in his face (which it wouldn’t if he could chill and simply ask what the reaction meant without taking possible offense at her explanation), the fact he attempted at all would likely be progress.

If we do hit some notable trigger for her then at least Gal ought to back off then. She’s likely to apologize later in that event since she’d know he meant no offense/discomfort and she’s a functional adult.
At a tie currently. I’ll check back again during the evening - and do a 1d2 if nothing’s changed since then.
>ask if I could eat with her
hustlers unite
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Can’t finish the update tonight, but the art is finished.
Creepy! Cool!
Double art update coming real soon.
In the years which have gone by, how many times have I - without even intending to - made her life far more miserable than it should have been? Do I even wish to know precisely that number? I have pushed my luck a most far distance.

… and yet, Airin still extended her grace all the same; while it took a few words, she showed me a path to that store; comforted me during the elevator; even now, she showed no hesitation in spending an evening giving guidance to Aeg and I. Might I be so presumptuous to think such grace would extend to a seat with her during supper? I suppose I might.

Let I be damned, then, should that prove the case.

>ask if I could eat with her

“If- If I may, Airin.” A slight tremble persists in my words, so I take a moment to let myself simmer down before continuing. “I would like to have my supper here, with you. I’ll procure mine on my own, and clean everything after - you do not worry about that.”

“I would like that too.” For a moment, her voice also becomes nervy. “But you don’t need to do the dishes! All right? I appreciate it but—” Her voice immediately reverts to normality as she - once again - tells me of an act which is not demanded of me.

“I wish to, regardless.” Airin exhales in amusement upon hearing my answer, and appearing on her lips is a smirk - she doesn’t bother with any more convincing.

Some fifteen minutes from her residence, at one corner of the street is the cook shop she favors - one with narrow frontage and manned by only an elderly couple, yet invariably captivating groups of working men and those of age alike. The smell of fish sauce and eggs was thick even before I joined the queue, the which spurred me into ordering a meal from this shop rather than try my luck elsewhere.

After placing the order I did look around the street for snacks or drinks, but the sort offered were not to my liking. Do kids really eat these boiled bananas? Not a lick of yellow remains underneath all that syrup.

“.. for Mister Kommgaal!” Among the streams of noise coming from the cook shop is my name. Wow. No more than ten or fifteen minutes have passed since I left and they’ve prepared both of them! Waiting in the queue felt longer than that. Wondrous fellows, those two are. This degree of proficiency in cookery is a rather welcome sight, I admit. Little wonder people flock to it.

Well, folks of moderate standing, anyway. The particulars add up quick: onions, chili, fish sauce, such additions to my rice-and-scrambled-eggs made it comparable in cost to a well-furnished bowl of duck noodles. Such is the price for expediency - and lack of forethought.

A certain feeling swells in my breast as I return - not an agonizing sting on my heart like before, but not entirely a pleasant one either. A supper with her couldn’t breed that much loathsomeness, could it? Surely.
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Returning to her residence I am faced with a most comely dining room; festooning the glossy wooden floorboards are mats and pillow seats, the which surrounds a table lengthy enough to accommodate six. Already sitting down is a goblin - a rather tired one - whose eyes appear more full than usual.

“Wow. This-”
“Something else.” As I unravel my meal, right away the proficiency jm cookery declares itself; the eggs are cooked lightly enough that an undercurrent of runnyness lingers on the texture, while lacking in any excess grease. Even the smaller bits of onions were spread evenly across! Her meal too is a fine thing - a layer of fish sauce and gravy coats the minced pork and basil thinly and equally throughout. The aromatics of chili makes it rather pleasing to smell.

The evening was off to a swell start.

“Er. Yes, I was a follower of bakery in my youth - my sister did much of the embellishments while I was tasked mainly with kneading and delivery.” Perhaps unsurprisingly, our conversation drifted towards food, and my past came up.

“That is nice. What sort did you bake?” Airin expresses a fondness for dessert - ladyfingers in particular; She had a great deal of those when growing up. “Probably the best thing about funerals, in earnest.” A smile grimly appears on her lips as she swap stories with me. Bittersweet misadventures, unfulfilled dreams, amusing anecdotes, such memories were shared liberally as our supper concludes.

And plenty more were shared afterwards - courtesy of Airin’s bottle of exceptional proportions.

“Ha. Well...”
“That was damned impressive I must say, Kommgal. A five-on-one and the worst wound you had was from your ma. Hahaha. Cheers to that.” We both take another sip of the cider as we note the absurdities of our past. “Mhm. You too. I’ve heard of liver strikes, strikes to the groin, bites to the breasts, but shit, I’ve never even - heard - of something like THAT. One hell of a way to take the fight out of them, Airin. I ought to do that if those kids back up on me.”

Pulling down breeches and jamming fingers into the bum are certainly one of the ways of taking the fight out of someone.

“Mhm. Yes, I do believe that would reveal - the contents - of their characters quite a bit.” Her comment got quite the laugh from me - and her as well.

We had a lovely time. Somehow. I do wish to do this again, when both our schedules permit. I… I really do hope the feeling is mutual. That’s likely the case but—

Ugh. No. Enough of this. She is an adult! I let my fears be buried once more as I prepare myself for tomorrow: double, triple-check my belongings, prepare the clothes, before sleeping at an hour not too ungodly.
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I awake…
But not to the blue sky before sunrise, but a place that…
Oh. Oh good.

Another presence makes itself known in this seemingly endless void.

“ Goodday, Kommgal. It has been a while, has it not? But you’ve captured my interest again. ” Appearing before me - still thrice my height - is a messenger, but not in the form I once knew him as.

“ Do forgive me - There are other individuals far more interesting than you that have kept me occupied. ”
“ And one you will meet very soon, in fact. ” Ugh. My eyes grow weary from hearing that again. I know that will happen next.

“ I don’t set into motion that which has not moved, Kommgal. ”
“ Did you know the woman you saved that day — Amournnara, as she was called then — lives in the very same province as you? Funny how things panned out. ”


“ I am aware a man of your age has difficulty remembering all the particulars. Take all the time you need to comprehend such a thing, I have no rush. ”
“ Her child is also of note — a rather colorful character. I hope you can come to appreciate that - before it’s too late. ” His words prove helpful as always.

“ In your youth, you have defeated a group as large as five. How shall it be done this time, and what of the aftermath, I wonder. ”
“ Either way, I shall extend my aid once again. You’ve asked for strength before - now, what do you ask of me? ”

This… is quite the revelation. I’m glad she walked the same road she put me through, but I’d rather not see her again. And then there’s the kid. I’ll have to face him soon, apparently.

I ask for…

>wisdom [+Memory]
I need to know more about her and those kids. Maybe we could negotiate and all of us could leave unscathed. But then again, this is Amournnara we’re talking about. It’s not an impossibility she will do something retarded.

>strength [+Spell]
If the kid is a person the messenger takes interest in, no doubt his aid extends to him too. I need something up my sleeve if I am to resolve this situation peacefully - or otherwise.

final choice of the thread.
>wisdom [+Memory]
going with the diplo route.
These two are cute.

>wisdom [+Memory]
The plot thickens.

thanks for running, QM!
>wisdom [+Memory]
If she freaked out over a light wound to her abusive husband, I'm sure she'll go ballistic over her injured child
>strength [+Spell]
hopefully Airin will have enough brains to cover us
>wisdom [+Memory]
We want to win the battle before it begins if possible, not afterward. This is the better option for that.

Should I accept the implication that Amournnare’s actions were in part due to this deity as well? Trash our reputation in exchange for blessing the child in some way?
no, not really. He "does not set into motion that which has not moved" — on that day, with his blessing or not, Gal would have come across her being beaten by her husband. What he chose to do next is entirely the domain of Gal himself, and the same goes for her.
the same applies for our current situation, too. Choosing to talk to and help Aeg with his missing belongings was out of our volition, right down to the decision to consult Airin and try a more legally sound approach. The messenger has no bearing over any of it.
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Art is done.

I have no intention to repeat the events that have since transpired — and I doubt Amournnara has grown less nervy over the years.

“I ask for your wisdom.”

Amidst the perpetually amused expression, an upturn of his lips.

“ Such a shame, Kommgal. He felt differently. ”
“ The stories within scriptures. Paintings of monasteries. So much has been told, and re-told, as entertainment and as instillment of virtue- ” The messenger lowers his hat and stands upright as he continues his lecture.

“ -decorated with the usual fanfare and embellishments. ” His apathy readily apparent as he drags on.

“ I am afraid it is (You) who might be on the receiving end of something actual from those times. ” Kneeling down, he taps my forehead.

Immediately, pain spreads all across my body, flowing through each and every vein - I can feel my flesh being pulled apart as hundreds of silt-shaped holes appear on my skin. What the fuck is this? Looking at it, I don’t even…

“ Vulva — I am aware such a thing would seem foreign to you. ” Another tap from the messenger cures me of the affliction; dulling much of the pain and transforming the thousands of vulvas into eyes.

“That may - very well - change.”
“In time.”
The messenger stands amused as I try to get back on my feet once more while retorting.

“ I suppose that may very well be the case. Anyhow, such an art is within his province now - do keep that in mind. ” The messenger proves my earlier suspicions correct: his aid also extends to the kid.

“ Here is one more lesson. ” With a nap of his nail, a sense of serenity returns to this seemingly endless void. It grows still, and in that stillness, voices become more audible, and visages grow clearer and clearer...
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Sitting on the ground is a goblin, dressed in fine textiles and embellished with steel jewelry. He is approached by another goblin, one with yellow tints to the tips of his hair, who appears barely older than him.

“Pet. You good?”
“Galpet? Uh..?” The goblin stops burying his face underneath his arms. Momentarily.

“No, I— I am not good.”
“Ma says I can no longer be around you anymore, nor your friend group.” Pet dips his head down once more after vomiting out those words.

“Was there something- some sort of… reason?” The yellow-haired kid prods him for a while before an answer comes.

“She believes you to be of poor character - whose hair is kin to prostitutes and would make me deviate from the path of rectitude.”

( For a fifteen, sixteen year old this kid does speak well. Perhaps too well, in earnest. )

“I myself don’t recall half, or one-third of the women in the Green Lamps district have dyed their— that doesn’t even- that’s fucking retarded!” Although Pet does not respond with words, his eyes are in agreement with the yellow-haired kid’s words.

“It was poorly-timed on my part. I approached her in a foul mood and the situation grew sour-” Pet takes a moment to calm his nerves before continuing. “I had approached her regarding the possibility of removing or trimming the hairs of my groin — those became stuck on the head and tugged on it with frequency and that caused me great pain. She then accused me of…… copying the behaviors of low company and the learning of things I should not.” Another long pause occurs. The yellow-haired kid taps his shoulder before silently sitting next to him.

“That does suck. Yeah, I’ve been there; I always hated the feeling when the prick- the skin of it, peels back far enough and those hairs stick to it, and then it FUCKING tugs like a damned bow or something.”
“Well, shit. I suppose there is no changing her. If she’s that… mhm. I suppose she doesn’t have to know.” Pet shakes his head to it. “No, that is not possible. She would see the changes right away everytime she washes me.”

“… your mom washes you?”
“You- aren’t you, like, fifteen and shit?” Pet nods, begrudgingly.

“Yes. She still insists on such. I tried, Tian. I really did, but she was not the sort to be dissuaded. To even that topic up again would stir her so deeply with nothing to gain.”

“Shit. Man. I’m sorry. That’s…” Tian wishes to speak, but he too takes a pause. “She can’t govern EVERY aspect of your life, surely. What of the- the thing! The board. You have that day, well, almost the day, after the practice off, right?” Tian moves his hands around in imitation of xylophone players.

“My mother has her own obligations during those times, so I suppose so.”

“Come on.” A smirk resurfaces on Tian’s face.
“Fine. But… promise me one thing, Tian. I will try to be around, so long as my mother hears none of it. All right? She hears nothing. Not a damned thing. We take this to the grave.” A shaky tone permeates through his voice, but Pet seems more relaxed now.

“Sure. ‘Till death do us apart - I, myself, Tian, promise you precisely that. See you ‘round…”

The voices and visage quickly fades after that exchange.

( Huh. )

“ In case you were wondering, this happened this year - a few months ago. And he’s been up to quite interesting things since. Especially since he has met with me. ” The messenger stands upright once more. Our talk is soon to conclude. “ The very first thing he asks of me. Would you like to guess? ”

“… freedom?” An upturn once again appears on his lips. After one more look at me, he vanishes.

“ That is correct. ” Appearing behind me is the messenger.
“ Seems you have grown wiser - by a little - at the very least. I have given unto you all the wisdom you have asked for. And now— ”

Turning to face him again, all the eyes on my skin have disappeared completely - they instead take residence in the clothes of the messenger. I barely caught a glimpse of it before he shoves his hat over my face.

In a blink of an eye, the night passes, and I awake in earnest.

… that was a lot to take in. Ugh.

Amournnara’s kid - Galpet was his name. A Goblin, fifteen years of age. Fancy clothes and rings. Plays the xylophone, but I do not know his instructor. Should prove a decent lead.

And that yellow-haired kid - Tian was his name. Seems to come from a very different background compared to him - and by extension - the other three.

And then there’s the “art”. What… what the hell was that? He was approached twice, too; the first time he asked for freedom while the second he asked for strength. So that’s two he could use. I’ll have to consult the monasteries for this one - outside of the commandments I am not the sort to follow religion closely.
Daybreak is approaching. The eleventh volume of the series has yet to be properly hidden. My bedsheets are still unchanged and bloodstained. And the scars on my thighs have barely begun to fade.

But it is fading.

>Thus concludes Loveless Gal and those damned females!
>“Loveless Gal and those damned kids” will be releasing soon!
Thanks you for playing! Once again, I ask for feedback if you do not mind.
>what did you think of the pacing of the second half? Too slow? Too fast?
>what about the characters? Did you find their interactions to be interesting? Was the dialogue too short? Too long?
>what did you like / dislike about the quest?
>what did you think of the pacing of the second half? Too slow? Too fast?
A good balance, I'd say.

>what about the characters? Did you find their interactions to be interesting?
I do not trust this celestial Harvey Birdman motherfucker. He's tying with mortals for his amusement, it seems like.

Was the dialogue too short? Too long?
No complaints here, boss.

>what did you like / dislike about the quest?
I like the setting and the authenticity of these anxious somewhat fringe characters. The art is also really cool! I sometimes find the dialogue a bit tricky to follow, but it seems everyone else is following it fine so that's probably more on me than on you. Keep it up!

Thanks for running, QM!
>what did you think of the pacing of the second half? Too slow? Too fast?
good pace, maybe a tad slow

>what about the characters? Did you find their interactions to be interesting? Was the dialogue too short? Too long?
same as above

>what did you like / dislike about the quest?
I like the magic, it's all kinds of weird

The scene vs the giant here was top tier, very pog, I reread it like a dozen times

Amournnara is disturbingly unhinged. Washing her kid at 15, what the fuck

Also he's a goblin, wasn't her husband a giant?
Adopted. You are correct in that they would be unable to breed.
Damn she's handwashing her adopted son at 15
what the actual fuck
>My bedsheets are still unchanged and bloodstained. And the scars on my thighs have barely begun to fade.
>But it is fading.
shit, so gal does this as well
>what did you think of the pacing of the second half? Too slow? Too fast?
the pace was good
>>what about the characters? Did you find their interactions to be interesting? Was the dialogue too short? Too long?
dialogue was good and it didn't get confusing
>what did you like / dislike about the quest?
the hints of magic got my attention
>Adopted. You are correct in that they would be unable to breed.
damn, that woman is nuts. speaking of breed, what's the compatibility between humans, giants and goblins ?
Thanks for all the feedback!

see >>5907569


>I like the magic, it's all kinds of weird
>the hints of magic got my attention

Looking through buddhist and hindu mythology, you’ll find some serious shit.

The “Thousand vagina” spell is a reference to one story regarding Indra, and the curse inflicted upon him for adultery. The detail of the vulva being transformed into eyes for a less humiliating punishment is also referenced.


There’s several variations of this story, some saying the curse was the removal of his penis instead and some details switched around.

>shit, so gal does this as well
It calls back to the very first scene - cutting himself was an addiction much like masturbation

>damn, that woman is nuts. speaking of breed, what's the compatibility between humans, giants and goblins?
0% — not a single of one can breed with any other if thats what you are wondering. I implemented this rule so the world could be as egalitarian as it is - and why the green lamps district and prostitution is such a large industry. still, the topic of unwanted pregnancy, prostitution, abortion, reproductive anatomy knowledge and the access of such knowledge are things I find interesting, and I plan to explore those in the future. As for Loveless Gal, I’d imagine them to be mentioned in passing as opposed to pivotal plotpoints.
>The “Thousand vagina” spell is a reference to one story regarding Indra, and the curse inflicted upon him for adultery. The detail of the vulva being transformed into eyes for a less humiliating punishment is also referenced.

>such an art is within his province now

oh god
the adopted kid who gets handwashed by his mom at 15 and cries about pubes sticking to his dick is going to cover us in vaginas
zam, it got worse. also this reminds me that the boys talking about their "hair" getting stuck into their "hood" got me laughing in a way. that's something that, for me at least, only happened rarely while I was playing the flute so it happening to them quite frequent made me question it as well.
>0% — not a single of one can breed with any other if thats what you are wondering. I implemented this rule so the world could be as egalitarian as it is - and why the green lamps district and prostitution is such a large industry.
alright, fair
we'll see what you cook
File: IMG_7086.jpg (53 KB, 445x502)
53 KB
This is a shotamaxxing cunnypilled bratty rape positive breedablechildcore household, son.

On a more serious note, I mainly based Amournnara on a few news incidents. There was one news about a woman suing a man who saved her from drowning a couple years back and that was the basis of the conflict between Gal and her. Her current behavior is based on what is called "boymom" — a particular type of woman who has… unhealthy ideas and boundaries with their sons. An example: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=E_70a3-5pas

>for me at least, only happened rarely while I was playing the flute so it happening to them quite frequent made me question it as well.

That’s an… interesting anecdote. I myself usually find the pubes stuck and tugging underneath the foreskin while walking around. I’ve seen a couple comics on FB depicting this exact experience and they’re pretty much identical to mine.

So that’s one reason I shave now. Also when I first started doing it my parents got pretty mad about it too, lol, mainly for the possibility of ingrown hair. Oddly enough my mom complained about me wanting to look like a child(?)

To this day I still don’t understand what the hell she meant. I think she fell for the “shaven groin = you like kids’ cunt/cock” shit that keeps getting regurgitated whenever someone has the audacity to express preference for such.
>The scene vs the giant here was top tier, very pog, I reread it like a dozen times
Kino. I’m glad you enjoyed it. My favorite parts to reread would probably be the dialogue between Airin and Gal, and The Messenger’s speeches. I primarily based him off Dishonored’s The Outsider.

>I do not trust this celestial Harvey Birdman motherfucker. He's tying with mortals for his amusement, it seems like.
I wouldn’t trust him either. he hasn’t demonstrated every aspect of the thousand cunts curse.

>So that’s one reason I shave now.
alright, in my case I just trim them with scissors

>I think she fell for the “shaven groin = you like kids’ cunt/cock” shit that keeps getting regurgitated whenever someone has the audacity to express preference for such.
could be it
One final trivia.

Word count of all updates:
16362 words

Trivia word count excluding this one:
1733 words


Thank you all for reading.
Thanks for running!
thanks for running, pal
Hello folks. Thumbnail art currently in production. Stay tuned.
waiting warmly

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