wouldnt want to let them go to waste
Anderson Quest: Killing Vampires and Werewolves and Leprechauns (Hellsing/Bloodborne)
- Thread starter Tricia
- Start date
ChiefTurtle117
The Sigillite
- Location
- Holy Terra
Yeah one of them might have seven eyes. Wouldn't want to miss that.
sounds like an awesome trip in the making if you ask me
ChiefTurtle117
The Sigillite
- Location
- Holy Terra
Nah, gonna need more eyes on the inside for that.
there are ways to accomplish this, you realize
ChiefTurtle117
The Sigillite
- Location
- Holy Terra
Because Anderson's totally gonna jump on the Cthulhu train right.
whoever said anything about Anderson?
BlackHadou
Bunny-Sensei
We should do him the kindness even if he can't be saved, honestly. He did try to be as helpful as he could be.
- Location
- North of England
- Pronouns
- She/They
You sure you want em?
Not sure if this is a warning or not but it's worth pointing out.
EDIT: Actually in hindsight it's best to ask, @Tricia was this a warning?
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Just feel like something bad's gonna happen.
*shrugs*
Can't speak for the guy who can't hold his drugs, but I'm pretty sure I could handle it
Daniel Estacado
ZA WARUDO
[X] Right. Time to cut a path to Gascoigne's place. Stay close and safe, doctor.
[X] Right. Time to cut a path to Gascoigne's place. Stay close and safe, doctor.
- Location
- ⇙
[X] Right. Time to cut a path to Gascoigne's place. Stay close and safe, doctor.
Stay in school and don't do drugs, kids!
What is it with You and Crows?
"Right," you say, "let's be on our way, then. Stay close and stay vigilant, Doctor."
She nods, carrying her pistol with both hands as the cane oscillates on her hip. With that, you're off.
The two of you pass through the gate near the ladder, checking each corner with increasing symbiosis. You note Iosefka's mounting astonishment as she observes the fruits of your labors.
"They were all infected. All of them. I've never seen anything like this. And you killed them all by yourself?"
"Tried bein' nice an' neighbourly. Didn't take, I'm afraid."
"Did you find any sane people?"
"A handful. None o' them were willin' ta talk, save Gilbert."
She looks a little surprised at this.
"Gilbert? The man with the cough? I must say, I didn't expect him to still be alive. Gascoigne introduced him to me some time ago; I treated him as best I could, but I could only buy him time."
"He's still got a sharp mind and a sharp tongue."
She smiles at that.
Many of the burning crosses that line the road have collapsed at this point, leaving only the bodies smoldering among the splinters. The flies are thick and their omnipresent buzz fills the silence. The smell of incense is too sporadic to overwhelm the stench of blood and guts and excrement.
You've yet to encounter anyone or anything besides some intrepid carrion birds by the time you step around the hulking corpse of Igor McBrickpunch and enter the plaza. You note with some amusement that your hairy former projectile is once again outside Chateau de Shithead and the broken window has been hastily boarded up. Maybe they drew straws to see who would have to carry the thing back to the street.
You've got so many wonderful ideas for further disproportionate retribution, but alas.
"This way," says Iosefka, pointing to the right-hand side of the plaza. You follow her towards a tall, narrow home with a gate to the side, beyond which you can see and smell an incense lantern burning.
"What's past there?"
"The aqueduct. From what I understand, they put the gate up to make it harder for people to dump things into it or fall off the ledge while drunk. Most workers have a copy of the key," she explains. She turns to knock on the door.
Something catches her eye and she hurriedly raises the pistol at you. You don't get a chance to ask what the hell she's thinking before you feel steel on your throat.
"Don't," says a voice from behind you, oddly muffled and somewhat more elderly-sounding than you'd expect from someone currently menacing some of your favorite arteries. How the Protestant whore-tits did she get behind you without you noticing?
"Can't smell properly in this thing, but I can tell you're not a Hunter. What exactly are you two doing at this house? Oh, put that thing away, girl. It'll be another twenty years before I'm slow enough to get hit by that."
Well, you suppose it's only fair that you're the damsel this time.
[] Talk this over like civilized people
[] Stab your way out
[] Write in...
She nods, carrying her pistol with both hands as the cane oscillates on her hip. With that, you're off.
The two of you pass through the gate near the ladder, checking each corner with increasing symbiosis. You note Iosefka's mounting astonishment as she observes the fruits of your labors.
"They were all infected. All of them. I've never seen anything like this. And you killed them all by yourself?"
"Tried bein' nice an' neighbourly. Didn't take, I'm afraid."
"Did you find any sane people?"
"A handful. None o' them were willin' ta talk, save Gilbert."
She looks a little surprised at this.
"Gilbert? The man with the cough? I must say, I didn't expect him to still be alive. Gascoigne introduced him to me some time ago; I treated him as best I could, but I could only buy him time."
"He's still got a sharp mind and a sharp tongue."
She smiles at that.
Many of the burning crosses that line the road have collapsed at this point, leaving only the bodies smoldering among the splinters. The flies are thick and their omnipresent buzz fills the silence. The smell of incense is too sporadic to overwhelm the stench of blood and guts and excrement.
You've yet to encounter anyone or anything besides some intrepid carrion birds by the time you step around the hulking corpse of Igor McBrickpunch and enter the plaza. You note with some amusement that your hairy former projectile is once again outside Chateau de Shithead and the broken window has been hastily boarded up. Maybe they drew straws to see who would have to carry the thing back to the street.
You've got so many wonderful ideas for further disproportionate retribution, but alas.
"This way," says Iosefka, pointing to the right-hand side of the plaza. You follow her towards a tall, narrow home with a gate to the side, beyond which you can see and smell an incense lantern burning.
"What's past there?"
"The aqueduct. From what I understand, they put the gate up to make it harder for people to dump things into it or fall off the ledge while drunk. Most workers have a copy of the key," she explains. She turns to knock on the door.
Something catches her eye and she hurriedly raises the pistol at you. You don't get a chance to ask what the hell she's thinking before you feel steel on your throat.
"Don't," says a voice from behind you, oddly muffled and somewhat more elderly-sounding than you'd expect from someone currently menacing some of your favorite arteries. How the Protestant whore-tits did she get behind you without you noticing?
"Can't smell properly in this thing, but I can tell you're not a Hunter. What exactly are you two doing at this house? Oh, put that thing away, girl. It'll be another twenty years before I'm slow enough to get hit by that."
Well, you suppose it's only fair that you're the damsel this time.
[] Talk this over like civilized people
[] Stab your way out
[] Write in...
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[X] Talk this over like civilized people
AnonymousRabbit
Rabbit Faced
[X] Talk this over like civilized people