You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. It's smudged, spattered with god knows what but you still recognize yourself despite all the blood.
Kyle Mercer. 25 years on your way to Hell. Naked, splattered with someone else's blood. Again.
You're trembling, a mixture of nerves and adrenaline. Why? You're sure you're going to find out whether you want to or not. You had been planning on making changes in your life and maybe others. That's why you were going home, right?
You stare into your own pale eyes and see…well, not much. Vitreous orbs, your fleshy windows to the world. You look down at your chest and see your tattoo, directly over your heart. You got it years ago and it meant the world to you but you can't remember when or why.
It was an Ouroboros, black on pale flesh but now streaked with red. You wet your hand in the sink and wash the blood away delicately. The cold water makes you break out in goosebumps. You see the blood on your body is dried. How long have you been standing here? Whose blood do you have on you this time?
You shake your head trying to clear it. "Fuck!" You didn't bother wondering why you couldn't remember anything. It was a consequence of what happened to you when you were younger. The same reason your arms were dotted with circular scars from cigarette burns and small, hard crosses carved into you years ago. It was the same reason the skin across the left side of your face, running down your neck to your shoulder and peck, was shiny and taut. A cruel burn that left those parts of you without feeling. Your long hair only partially conceals the scar tissue.
"You can't desecrate the temple," she'd said. "Only decorate it."
You inhale again, body trembling, and exhale. It's time for a change. You pick up the pill bottle from the sink, uncap it and dump the pills into the toilet. They rattle in with satisfying, porcelain clinks and plops. When you flush you watch a red-blue kaleidoscope of pharmaceuticals tumble to watery oblivion.
You didn't need those anyway. They only slowed you down. Confused you. You look back at yourself in the mirror. You lick your teeth, and taste iron. You feel better already. In fact, you feel Brand New.
What's changed?
>What doesn't kill you Wounds that incapacitate others don't stop you >Whispers in the wind You can catch glimpses into people's thoughts. >Right behind you You have a knack for showing up in places you shouldn't be able to get to
All that you have left is whatever is still in your hotel room and of course what's on the bathroom sink in front of you.
It was rather silent in the staff room where Mik had left all the girls, as the girls were all spending their time alone in ways they hoped would be meaningful. Chrysidus was busy reading some old brochures and newspapers from the facility, trying to improve her reading skills. Oreas was testing her powers on some metal wires to try and see if she could power electronics, hoping she could use her abilities to later help Lydia. Anofelis was curled up one of the beds, snoring softly as she was taking a little nap. Laura was double-checking all the rations and also preparing for Vinisha's arrival, having already set up a bed for her. Kamara was crawling on the ceiling, practicing her colour and shape shifting whilst actively on the move. And Morgan was busy playing chess with Ingmar. "Hmmmm, your last move was your unfortunate downfall!" Morgan would say proudly, Ingmar bumbling in response. "You're really good at this, Morgan."
The compliment would make Morgan chuckle heartily. "Well, I am a master tactician! Now, I suggest you think your next move through, lest your king ends up at the end of my blade!" Ingmar would look at the board, before playing a rather defensive move to protect his king. "How predictable. But you missed one important detail..." She'd make a single move which essentially gave her the checkmate. Ingmar kept thinking about his move, before responding calmly. "Well, uhhhh, I don't think I can really do anything? I can move this, but... then that frees up your knight, I think. I'm not sure. I'm not really that good at this chess stuff." Morgan would put her hand on his shoulder. "Nonsense! You're learning well! It is just that you are facing a tactical genius! I am certain that in no time, you will know all the tricks in the book to defeat your opponents!" Ingmar smiled, before speaking more softly. "I honestly prefer the whole... sword training thing we did earlier. Can we do that again?"
Having someone else interested in learning sword-combat was truly wonderful to Morgan. "Why, I'd love to, Ingmar! How about you put the chess pieces back in place?" As Ingmar did such, Morgan would form a smaller blade from some of her own metal armour. Though Chrys was quick to bud in, speaking softly as she looked up from her newspaper. "If you two are gonna play with your swords again, please do it in one of the rooms of the back, please. I really am not fond of all the noise... or the fact Ingmar accidentally threw his sword the last time you did this." Morgan nodded, as she signalled Ingmar to follow her to one of the storage rooms in the back. "Laura, Oreas, did you two know that... Roraima got a prize for being the first to have worked on at least 30 subjects?" Chrys would soon say, making Laura scoff. "With a guy like him holding that title, it's not even a surprise that this place went to hell." It made Oreas chuckle a little, before she'd put some energy into a lamp she had taken, actually making it glow again.
“Do you think you can help me? I’m not really bad, if I wanted to eat you I would!”
“You’ll eat me?”
“I mean, no, I meant that I can but won’t because I’m not a bad bug!”
Be it the bizarreness of the situation or his mind too tired to think, this made sense to Tobias. A normal tyranid would eat him by now. He stared at the yellow pupils, almost drawn into her eyes and face. The moon’s pale light accentuated the sharp angles of her nose and lips that resembled so close to a human.
“I’ll help you…”
“Really?”
A smile revealed the deadly maw of jagged fangs. Ninety-Nine’s tail wagged.
“Yes, where do you need to go?”
“I don’t know.” Ninety-Nine set Tobias down. She cupped her cheek as she pondered. “I’m not going to look so well when I come in… Where are we?”
“Sector Six.” Tobias said. “We’re close to Sector Five here.”
“Oh that’s where Stracken is!” Ninety-Nine cheered. “But he won’t recognize me without any armor…”
“I can go back by myself.” Tobias offered. “I’m certain you will be shot moment you are seen, and I will be as well since they will assume I am under your control.”
>I’ll follow you until you get to Sector Five, I’ll wait at the entrance. I’ll hide if I see anyone. >I can wait here >Write-in
Additional choice (optional)
>“I wouldn’t really eat you by the way… you have pretty eyes that’d be a waste.” [Face check] >“I wouldn’t really eat you by the way… Not that I think you’ll taste bad but I like having you here.” [Face check]
Last time, you tied up the final ribbon to the Prison Break mission, reunited people, talked to friends and allies, and left on a high note to rest at home with your bestie by your side. From that, one thing led to another and you find yourself with your friend visiting your favorite neighbor to relax with. As you were helping them get to know each other, an interesting undisclosed topic was brought up that changed the shape of the conversation. One, you weren’t aware hadn’t been discussed yet!
You mentioned that Ajna will be a vibrant trumpeter!
“Crossbill, you know this amazing girl over here is going to become an idol?” You place your hands on Ajna’s shoulders. “She’s part of the agency I’m building and all!”
“<span class="mu-i">…!!!</span>” Ajna looks surprised to be thrown into the spotlight.
“That sounds swell!” Crossbill is more optimistic than you give her credit for. “Why the hell do you have an idol agency…?”
“Woah, Ajna is going to do <span class="mu-s">WHAT?!</span>” Craig is flabbergasted.
“Play the trumpet.” You pantomime it.
“Ooh! I can tell. I bet she’s good.” Crossbill points at the trumpet decoration on Ajna’s blanket.
“Focus on the idol stuff, kid. You’re not pulling my hair, right?” Craig continues being dumbfounded.
“You gotta be careful, he doesn’t have much left.” Crossbill jokes around. Yeah, Craig is balding just as badly as Jesse… “Let’s step back, is this a social media thing that might get serious in the near future or what?”
“Oh, right. Kids get carried away like that...” Craig doesn’t know why he took it so seriously. “Sorry for losing my head there. I overreacted a lil’ bit.” The man scratches the back of his head.
“Doesn’t mean they can’t get a gig to perform somewhere though.” Crossbill is a shit stirrer.
Ajna doesn’t know how to react. As far as you know, her mother didn’t appreciate any of the hobbies she partook in. Maybe she needs some confidence to tell Craig herself, you know the guy, he’s going to be supportive. Or you should protect your talent and explain everything yourself, no need to stress her more than needed.
Either way, the decision is in your hands… Ajna is too busy increasing her vibrations…
<span class="mu-s">What do you do?</span>
>Encourage Ajna to explain it herself. >Explain everything about the agency to quell Craig’s worries and Crossbill’s curiosity. >Be vague about it, let Craig know that Ajna is part of a band, and once she feels comfortable sharing, she’s going to. For now, apologize to Ajna for bringing this up. >Let the music do the talking! Hand the trumpet to Ajna! It’s the only explanation needed. >Write In.
You are Zero Quality, our protagonist! People just call you Zero.
You are in a tavern drinking some beer when you see a busty elf and you get a tent.
You have 5 silver and no weapons, but you're real strong from working the fields all day everyday since you were a small lad.
What do you do? > Drink another tankard of beer and go talk to the elf > Slap the barmaid ass and start a brawl > Comment to the barman how hot the elf is > Write in
Sing, goddess, of thirsty Argos, and of the glory of Hippomedon Aristomachides - sing of the folly of Adrastus, of the savagery of Tydeus and of Oedipal transgressions! Sing, O Muse, of Zeus’ designs, which even now come to fulfillment…
Holà gentes dames, belles demoiselles, nobles seigneurs et gentils damoiseaux, the Local Lord is back, as promised. I greet our veterans and for the new knights that flock to our banners I give you the links to the previous quests as a festuca.
If I remember well good sirs we were just arrived to Lasthold, fief of our beloved lady Takable, to pass some good time with her and train her new household guard. But as per tradition our quest shall begin with a prologue about events in different parts of the world. Here we shall follow Mahmud and the other saracens that because of some inexplicable and probably ungodly phenomenon were transported to Bifuria while they marched against the devious mongols.
This is part 4 of the "side quest" for "Disappearing Hogwarts". An unofficial alternate timeline based on HeadQM´s highly praised quest, Disappearing Hogwarts. Reading the original story is not exactly necessary but heavily encouraged. Created mostly as a place to wait while HeadQM was away for a while but slowly evolved into his own thing.
Quick recap so far: Recently graduated Ravenclaw student is hired at Hogwarts as the new Caretaker. Something dangerous and mysterious is happening. Harry Potter is the new Headmaster of Hogwarts and extremely stressed. Somehow, you can see ancient magic. Peeves ripped out your foot. Merlin himself is stuck in your head and slowly recovering his memories. Potter’s daughter also had a powerful wizard inside her head. Tactically used your enormous penis to somehow turn said wizard into a metaphorical vegetable by erasing his mind. You have a sportsy German girlfriend. And you are now in a coma and she is the new MC for a bit. What will happen now? Let's find out!
Your name is <span class="mu-s">Cheryl Elmore</span>. You are a Peace Keeper of <span class="mu-s">Panopolis</span>, stationed on <span class="mu-s">level 4</span>, the monetary and human-resource capital of the city, and currently you do not know what to do.
Before you, a man is using his body to keep an older woman cornered. He mentioned some money she owes his “organization”, and then using his straight razor, pantomiming shaving motions on his face, saying what a shame it would be if he slipped and cut her face.
<span class="mu-r">“It would be just like that- whoops! Whoops! Unless you got that money we talked about, maybe I'd be a bit more careful, <span class="mu-i">capisce</span>?”</span>
Is he attacking her? Is this a threat? He isn't directly causing harm but... that poor woman! Your training did not cover this, didn't cover most of the stuff you're dealing with on level 4. Criminal families, extortion, and organized violence. It's nothing like punk culture on Level 5...
