[DEAD] Stand Against The Darkness: A Magical Girl Quest

[veekie]

[X] Get Miz on side. This will probably costyou a favour or two, or a directaction done before the fight.

 

[wingstrike96]

[X] Get Miz on side. This will probably cost you a favour or two, or a direct action done before the fight.

 

[Kadmus]

Spoiler: AN

Vote results:
[X] Get Miz on side. This will probably cost you a favour or two, or a direct action done before the fight. - 5 votes.

Part 4
Monday, Week 2

"Right, I think I'm gonna try and get Miz on side," you say, scratching thoughtfully at your chin. "But that can wait 'til tomorrow. We've got a curfew to beat home."

"Shit, yeah," Angel says, blinking in realisation. "Well, it ain't like the cops are gonna be able to stop me."

"M-my dad won't be, um, happy if I'm home late," Shadows whispers. "I'll, like, see you guys later?"

She detaches herself from Angel, and stands slightly unsteadily. You offer her a hand to help her up, and she gives you a grateful smile. A quick, impulsive hug from her later and she's gone, racing from rooftop to rooftop towards what you presume is her home.

"How about you?" you say, extending your hand again. Angel clasps her fingers around your forearm and hauls herself up, keeping hold once she's standing.

"Home, too," she says. "Look, we're hitting this thing before the week's out, right? I ain't much for strategies and shit, so I'm trustin' you know what you're doing." She frowns.

"Definitely," you say, gripping her arm to match her own hold on yours. "I've got your back, Angel. We're gonna stomp this thing into a greasy puddle and set what's left on fire."

She grins wickedly at that, and slaps you on the shoulder. "That's what I wanted to hear!" She releases you, and you do the same.

"We good?"

"We're good," she says. "See you around, Champs."

With one final friendly punch to the shoulder she departs, silver wings glowing in the purple sky, catching the final rays of the setting sun. You make haste yourself, and change in an alley near your house. You get some harsh looks from a passing police car, but you get home with a little time to spare before curfew sets in.

The night is long and sleep comes only fitfully, disturbed by intrusive thoughts about the Sin Chosen, and about what she did to you. About how your best friend got beaten up and mugged, and you weren't there to help her. How she might be dead right now and you wouldn't know. How someone could be stood outside your house right now, holding a molotov cocktail. How your grandmother might get shot at work tomorrow, just to get at the thirty dollars in her till.

You feel helpless and useless, even though you're fighting to stop all of this. It all feels like it's too little, too late, like trying to put out a housefire with a thimble. But that's never stopped you before, and, rather than weaken you with fear and doubt, it props up your anger. Fear leads to anger. Doubt leads to anger. Anger leads to strength. And you are going to put that anger to use, very soon. The flames of your rage are going to burn the Sins until even the ashes are gone.


Tuesday, Week 2

You finally give up on sleep as a lost cause around 4 am, and instead sit up in bed reading the book Emily sent you home with a week ago. It feels like it was much further back, but the frantic, breakneck pace you've been maintaining has stretched the days out until they feel like they take forever. The words swim and rearrange themselves in front of your tired eyes, but it keeps you distracted until the sun finally starts to rise.

You head downstairs and make breakfast, for you and your grandmother, surprising her with a plate when she turns up half an hour later to begin her day. She looks worn and tired, nearly as bad as when half the bills couldn't be paid and the electricity was getting cut off, but she gives you a grateful smile nonetheless.

"Not seen much of you, these past few days," she says, between bites of toast. "You keeping safe?"

"I haven't run into any real trouble," you say, the half-lie slipping easily from your lips. "Emily got mugged the other day, though."

She clicks her tongue in disgust, shaking her head. "This city. We've always had problems, girl, but this? I've never seen the like. She okay?"

You shrug helplessly. "She's alive. I'm doing what I can to help."

"Mm. Don't fuss about this old lady if it's a choice between me and her, you hear?" she says, looking sternly at you. "I've survived seventy-odd years. I can look after myself for a while if you need to sleep over at hers."

"Grandma, I don't-"

"No, you listen here, Jennifer," she says firmly. "I am old. I'm not going to live much longer, no matter how you look at it. You know it, I know you do. I love you, and I've done my best to raise you right, and every day I get to see you is a day I treasure. But this? This city's worse than it's ever been. I might die today. It doesn't bother me too much. You're old enough to look after yourself, and you'll get the house. I'll get to see my son again. But you're young, and you've got your whole, bright future ahead of you." She sighs. "I don't want you worrying about me."

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, and turn away so she doesn't see them start to fall. She wraps a bony arm around you, and you return the hug, still looking away. It's over in what feels like an instant, as you have to split apart to go and attend to your respective day's work. You open and close your mouth a few times, soundless, trying to get the words out, but you can't. There's no way to put it into words.

"I love you," you finally croak, just before she leaves.

She smiles at you, and heads to work.

The school day passes in a muddle-headed haze, the only things of note that one of your missing classmates is back in school, in a wheelchair with both legs in casts. Emily's bruises have started to go from the fresh black and blue to the ugly, mottled purple and yellow that you can't stand seeing on her face, and she's wearing her hair to conceal as many of them as she can. You doze off in most of the classes, but none of the teachers say anything; a good quarter of the rest of your class is doing the same, the stress and fear of the past few days abating a little in the vague safety of the school.

You manage to text Miz, to ask her to meet up and talk, and she agrees. You go home with Emily again, keeping guard better than any watchdog, and then head off to meet the aptly-named Chosen you know so little about.

She's on a roof, this time, pacing back and forth with a nasty-looking assault rifle in her hands. You can see how agitated she is just from the way she's moving, and she doesn't stop when she spots you, simply nodding in greeting.

"Can't use the backstreets, any more," she says. "Keep running into like stuff I have to stop and interfere with, but there's always more, and I just... I can't keep going like this and I don't have anywhere to sleep and-"

You raise a hand to stop her, eyeing her carefully. She looks rough, her outfit dirty and tattered. You know the costume fixes itself every time you change, but it looks like she hasn't changed back to normal in days. Smells like it, too, now that you're close to her.

"When was the last time you took a break, Miz?" you say, feeling concerned about how unstable she's acting.

"Fucking days ago!" she snaps, still pacing. "I- I need somewhere to take a break. All of my usual spots are, like, on fire or full of drugs or have people murdering each other in them or worse and it's- I can't! I can't do this!"

"Look, we want- we want to hit one of the Sins," you say, stepping in front of her and taking a firm grip on her shoulders. "We've scouted it out, everything. We can do this, but we want some help, if you're down for it. I can do you a favour or something if that's what it'll take."

"I- I- I can help, sure," she says, that unreadable visor tilted to look directly at you. "But I need- I need somewhere to get a good night's sleep. Somewhere safe. I tried the roofs, you know? But, like, there's Sin-Eaten that like to wander around at night, and there's fucking helicopters and police during the day, and I- I just need to rest, okay? Or- or, you know, you could stiff me on that, and, and owe me big."

"How big?"

"Like- like, I dunno, helping me wipe out some fucking gangsters or some shit! Deal with one of my fucking problems, at least!"


1. What do you do?

[] Find her somewhere to sleep.
- [] Hell, she can crash in your room tonight. You'd feel safer with two Chosen in the house, but you'd have to know each other's real identities to do it.
- [] The gym office would be safe-ish. You have keys, you could sneak her in.
- [] Write in.
[] Owe her a favour.
[] We can do it without her; she seems like she might be a liability at this point.


2. On Wednesday, Light is calling in her favour. What do you do?

[] Go and hear her out. You can always hear the request and tell her to go fuck herself, if it comes to it. It's not like she can force you.
[] Leave her hanging. She'll never work with you again if you do, but it might just be worth it to see that haughty bitch spit feathers.

I will also need 1 roll of 2d6.

 

[Khona Moshr]

[X] Find her somewhere to sleep.
- [x] Hell, she can crash in your room tonight. You'd feel safer with two Chosen in the house, but you'd have to know each other's real identities to do it.
[X] Go and hear her out. You can always hear the request and tell her to go fuck herself, if it comes to it. It's not like she can force you.

Let's help Miz out and hear light out

Khona Moshr threw 2 6-faced dice. Total: 8

 

[Andres]

[X] Find her somewhere to sleep.
- [X] Hell, she can crash in your room tonight. You'd feel safer with two Chosen in the house, but you'd have to know each other's real identities to do it.
[X] Go and hear her out. You can always hear the request and tell her to go fuck herself, if it comes to it. It's not like she can force you.

 

[Nevill]

"Keep running into like stuff I have to stop and interfere with, but there's always more, and I just... I can't keep going like this and I don't have anywhere to sleep and-"

Click to shrink...

I had suspicions when she said she had all day. Yeah, she's homeless and the curfew does her no favors.

This... might be the solution to our conunrum, though? Get a Chosen to live in our house and keep night watch at Emily's ourselves. Still leaves Ostin vulnerable, though, and I doubt we'll be bringing magical girls to his house, but hey.

We need to get to know her better, so a certain concession, like our civilian identity, is expected. I am not sure why we make such a big fuss about it... there isn't enough tension between the girls to justify this level of distrust. Unless it's about the gang that is after her because of the murder. They did kill her brother, after all. In which case our house may be less than ideal?

[x] Find her somewhere to sleep.
- [x] Hell, she can crash in your room tonight. You'd feel safer with two Chosen in the house, but you'd have to know each other's real identities to do it.
[x] Go and hear her out. You can always hear the request and tell her to go fuck herself, if it comes to it. It's not like she can force you.

 

[Varano]

[X] Find her somewhere to sleep.
- [x] Hell, she can crash in your room tonight. You'd feel safer with two Chosen in the house, but you'd have to know each other's real identities to do it.
[X] Go and hear her out. You can always hear the request and tell her to go fuck herself, if it comes to it. It's not like she can ​

force​

you.​

 

[veekie]

[X] Find her somewhere to sleep.
- [X] Hell, she can crash in your room tonight. You'd feel safer with two Chosen in the house, but you'd have to know each other's real identities to do it.
[X] Go and hear her out. You can always hear the request and tell her to go fuck herself, if it comes to it. It's not like she can force you.

 

[Alchemist767676]

[X] Find her somewhere to sleep.
- [X] Hell, she can crash in your room tonight. You'd feel safer with two Chosen in the house, but you'd have to know each other's real identities to do it.
[X] Go and hear her out. You can always hear the request and tell her to go fuck herself, if it comes to it. It's not like she can force you.

 

[Kadmus]

Spoiler: AN

Vote results:
[X] Find her somewhere to sleep. - 6 votes.
- [X] Hell, she can crash in your room tonight. You'd feel safer with two Chosen in the house, but you'd have to know each other's real identities to do it. - 6 votes.
[X] Go and hear her out. You can always hear the request and tell her to go fuck herself, if it comes to it. It's not like she can force you. - 6 votes.

Part 5
Tuesday, Week 2

"I can put you up for a couple of days," you say, eyeing the desperate girl. "It's not gonna be, you know, high quality, but-"

"I don't care," Miz says, visor pointed right at you again. "Just somewhere to sleep would be amazing. A shower would be even better."

"Come on, then," you say, and lead her back towards your home. "You okay with changing back to normal for this? I know you've got a thing."

"Yeah, I mean, it's not gonna be the whole city after me. The guys I'm in trouble with, they don't operate out in this direction. You, uh, you get a lot of little neo-nazi gangs this way," she says, carefully observing the streets you pass over.

"We don't have any gangs on my street," you say. "Uh. I think? I've never seen any. Everyone's too busy working eighty hour weeks to have time to do crime stuff."

"'Do crime stuff?'" she says, and you can hear the amusement in her voice, even through the exhaustion. "Yeah, I can tell you haven't spent much time around gangs."

"Have you?"

"A little. I, you know, like, I was a bit of a bad kid. Rebellious, I guess?" She shrugs. "You know, pot, cigarettes, alcohol, staying out late with guys who were too old for me? That kinda thing. I grew out of it, though."

You look her over. "You're respectable now, is that it?"

She snorts, amused. "I was always respectable. Mom and dad own shares of a bunch of the casinos around here."

"Well, sorry you have to slum it with me, then," you say, jumping down into your usual alleyway changing spot. "So how come you got caught up in all the gang stuff, if you were out of it?"

She lands next to you and looks around, watching carefully. "Uh, you know how it is with old boyfriends? Sometimes you just want to give it one last try?"

You definitely don't blush at the implications. Definitely.

"I, uh, can't say I do?"

"Eh, I went to hang out with this guy I used to date, and he wanted to stop by this place to pick up some stuff, you know? And then he was taking ages, so I went in after him, and that's when it all went down. He was dead, this other guy was dead, I had a knife in my side and another one in my hands." She shrugs again. "Over the past few days I've seen a lot of shit like that."

You shift uncomfortably, giving her a sympathetic look, and you finally change back to normal. The visor swings back and forth a few more times before Miz, too, changes. She's about the same height as you, with wavy black hair falling down to her shoulders, olive skin, and dark brown eyes. Her clothes are what you'd expect from her frequent mentions of her favourite fashion – a frilly, lacy dress in black and red, falling to her knees, with black stockings and shiny black shoes to complete the look.

"Angela Chow," she says, giving you a weary smile. "Nice to meet you."

"Jennifer Sykes."

"Alright if I call you Jen? Jennifer's a mouthful," she says, running her fingers through the greasy mess that her hair has become without regular access to bathing facilities. "Call me Lala. Angela's a dumb name."

"Yeah, sure," you say, and start heading back to your house. "Uh, if my grandma asks, you're a friend from school."

"Sure. Hey, if you need any money for this, I got some cash," she says, as though she's just realised the situation. "Like, I haven't had the chance to do much shopping and I, like, totally emptied my savings account when I found out about the whole thing?"

You shrug uncomfortably, unlocking your front door and ushering the other girl inside. Once you've made sure it's locked soundly behind you, you turn back to see her looking around your tiny living room.

"I don't know if I'd be comfortable taking money..." you say, not looking her in the eye. "I am asking you for a favour, you know? I don't wanna take advantage of that."

"Eh, just let me know if you need some cash to cover food or whatever," she says, trying not to touch anything with her grubby hands. "Uh, shower?"

You show her up to the bathroom, give her a spare towel and a set of your pyjamas, and leave her to it. She emerges half an hour later, looking much cleaner, and looking slightly swamped in your pyjamas. She's a skinny young lady, even compared to your athletic build, and the pyjamas don't quite fit right as a result. You've rolled out the sleeping bag Emily uses when she sleeps over, and Lala disappears into it without a word. You suspect she falls asleep immediately, and you spend the rest of the evening doing chores and cooking dinner and staring blankly at the minimal homework you've got. Your grandma doesn't ask any questions when you mention you have a friend over, just pats you on the hand and goes on with her evening routine.

It's strange, sitting in your bed at night with someone who may as well be a total stranger asleep on the floor next to you, but you sleep better that night knowing that there's another Chosen in the house, able to fend off attacks should they come.

They don't, and, though your sleep is interrupted once by the sound of gunshots in the near distance, the curfew seems to have had an impact, and that is all you hear.


Wednesday, Week 2

You wake up and see that Lala is still snoring away in the sleeping bag, curled up on her side with her hair sticking up in all directions. You tiptoe out of the room and get ready for the day, seeing your grandma out the door and then waking up the dozing Chosen.

"Whussit?" she mumbles, looking up at you with blurry eyes.

"I gotta go to school. I'm gonna trust you enough to leave you here, okay? Text me if anything happens."

She blinks one eye at a time, staring up at you in sleepy confusion. "Sleeping now," she declares, and lies back down.

You roll your eyes and head to school. The worst that happens is she wrecks the house, and then you hunt her down and cut off her head. You suspect, however, that she's unlikely to be conscious again before the sun sets.

You get a call on the ride to school; it's from the last person you'd expect, Light, and you suspect, with rising dread, that she wants to call in her favour.

"Hello," you say.

"Champion."

"Yeah, I'm on the bus right now," you say. "What do you want?"

"You owe me. I require assistance this afternoon with a project that should help reduce the level of unrest in the city," she says, sounding intense despite the measured tempo of her words. "It will require travelling outside city limits, hard labour, and potentially a fight or two, if things go wrong. I will meet you at the Eye at... will four o'clock give you sufficient time to arrive?"

"That's not a lot of details, there," you say, keeping your words deliberately bland. "You can't expect me to say yes or no based on just that."

She sighs, sending gusty static down the line, and you pull the phone away from your ear for a moment.

"You should be saying 'yes', regardless, Champion. This is a favour I'm calling in, not a polite request," she says, obviously irritated. "But very well. I can put aside petty rivalries for the sake of the city. I aim to perform a ritual that will bleed off some of the negative emotions that are being stirred up across the city, and dump them into the desert where there is nothing but scorpions and cacti to suffer for it. I can complete the ritual on my own, but I suspect that the Sin-Eaten will not leave it to just happen. So, I have contacted you. You have to be useful for something, and you seem to enjoy hitting things with that axe of yours, so our interests should coincide here, should they not?"

"Hey! We are doing something useful, unlike you," you snap. "We're dealing with one of them before the end of the week. Everyone's in but you."

"Leave your Exousiai with me, then," she sneers. "So that when I have to see your bodies on the news, I can at least ensure that we can continue saving the human race. At least we won't be losing any Chosen of worth, and your replacements will hopefully be less suicidal."

Your breath hisses through your teeth in an angry exhalation.

Do you go and fulfil the favour?

[] Yes. She may be a snooty asshole, but this ritual sounds like it might actually help. You can put the good of the city over your own personal problems with her.
[] No. Fuck her and the horse she rode in on; you don't care if this means she'll never work with you.


And I will need 2 rolls of 2d6, please. One roll per poster.

 

[Andres]

[X] Yes. She may be a snooty asshole, but this ritual sounds like it might actually help. You can put the good of the city over your own personal problems with her.

Andres threw 2 6-faced dice. Total: 6

 

[Nevill]

[x] Yes. She may be a snooty asshole, but this ritual sounds like it might actually help. You can put the good of the city over your own personal problems with her.

There is not a lot to talk about here. Not only it's our debt she's calling, but it sounds like something we would want to do anyway if only we knew how.

'Miz' (Mysterious Sun Soldier) 0 - phone number. She's well-spoken, fashion-loving and terrified. Opposes fighting the Sins directly.

Click to shrink...

Wouldn't that be at least 1 now?

@Andres110, please roll another die, we need 2d6.
Rolling the second set... meh. Hope the 1st one goes better.

Nevill threw 2 6-faced dice. Total: 5

 

[Alchemist767676]

[X] Yes. She may be a snooty asshole, but this ritual sounds like it might actually help. You can put the good of the city over your own personal problems with her.

 

[veekie]

[X] Yes. She may be a snooty asshole, but this ritual sounds like it might actually help. You can put the good of the city over your own personal problems with her.

 

[Kadmus]

Spoiler: AN

Vote results:
[X] Yes. She may be a snooty asshole, but this ritual sounds like it might actually help. You can put the good of the city over your own personal problems with her. - 4 votes.

Part 6
Wednesday, Week 2

"Stop talking," you growl. "I'll do it. See you later."

You hang up on Light before she can get the last word in, feeling a petty sense of satisfaction at the childish act. It's not like you've got a lot going on right now that you can get pleasure from, what with the horrible crime wave, existential threats, and uncooperative colleagues, so you have to get your kicks where you can. That, and Light is still an ass.

And you kick ass.

You groan into your hands as that terrible pun hits your brain, regretting thinking it even as you process the words. You get a few funny looks from your fellow bus-goers, but most of them resolutely ignore the weird teenager and check their weapons. That sobers you up fast enough – the sight of half the bus making sure their guns are still there. It's deeply unsettling, how many armed people you're seeing around since the weekend. Every gun shop in town must be out of stock.

The rest of the trip passes in the now-normal gloomy silence of people trying extremely hard not to notice one another in fear of inciting violence, and you step down onto the pavement outside your school with a sigh of relief. The relief is short-lived as, without warning, the skies open and it begins to pour down onto the area around the school.

At first, you think it's just rain, but you're quickly disabused of that notion. It's warm and slightly sticky and smells like wet pennies, as a torrential downpour of what can only be blood hammers down onto the sun-heated tarmac. The stink is incredible as it half-cooks on the hot asphalt, and a chorus of terrified screams and shouts rise up around you as everyone stampedes for cover from the unnatural weather. That familiar taste fills your mouth as you run for the school, red trickling down your face and soaking into your clothes, but that horrible pressure that's been lurking behind your eyes is gone, and you're smiling like a lunatic.

The rain of blood only lasts a few minutes, but it's plenty long enough that the drains clog with thick black scabs and all the outside surfaces are covered in a layer of tacky, rapidly browning fluid. The first period of lessons is cancelled as everyone caught in the storm cleans up as best they can – your t-shirt is never going to be the right colour again – and the building and courtyard are washed down to try and stop the stink. It doesn't quite work, and for the rest of the day the building is haunted by the smell of iron.

Classes are subdued, thanks to the continuing problems in the city and the terrifying morning shock, but Emily and Ostin seem in better spirits today. Most of Emily's bruises are starting to fade, and she's wearing make-up – odd, for her – to conceal as many of them as she can. Ostin has come up with seventy three different reasons for the rain of blood by lunchtime, ranging from 'red algae bloom that got sucked up by a storm' to 'government project codenamed BLOOD RAIN in an attempt to hide the true nature of the project through reverse psychology, as no-one would be dumb enough to name a project after what the project is actually about'. His ridiculous antics get Emily to crack a real smile for the first time in days, and you shoot him an appreciative grin yourself. Everything's back to normal, or at least on the way there.

You can't make sure Emily gets home today, as Light's time frame means you'll need to head over straight from school, but Ostin is happy to go with her and that has to be good enough. You reluctantly part with them at the school entrance, trying to ignore the lingering smell of cooking blood from the pavements and roads, and head towards the meeting point.

The Concordia Eye is a massive structure, and it boasts the tallest revolving restaurant in the world. You've always thought it looks rather like an olive on a cocktail skewer, and that image has forever ruined any sense of awe or grandiosity the building might otherwise have held. You sometimes imagine that there must be a truly massive burger under the city, to justify such a big skewer.

It's a long way to the top, olive or no, and you have to spend a few minutes figuring out how to best get around the revolving restaurant itself. There are no real grips on the underside, but a quick and extremely nervous upside-down sprint carries you around the curve and up onto the upper surface, and from there it's just the usual jump-and-climb routine until you reach the tip of the skewer. Tower. The top. You take a moment to sit on the very peak, looking out over the city arrayed below you like the spokes of an enormous, shining wheel, and admire the view. The sun is reflecting off the glittering steel and glass that makes up most of Concordia architecture, and you can't see all the discarded McDonalds wrappers and dog shit from all the way up here. You can't see all the problems from up here.

But you can't see any of the people, either. You couldn't point and say 'that's Emily'; you probably couldn't even pick out her house. For all that this dizzying tower, all steel and glass and careful white paint, allows you to see the city, it doesn't let you actually see the city. You hate how impersonal it is up here; how clean and tidy and neat it all looks. You prefer the city with the violence and the death and the mugged friends to the empty, soulless shell you can see.

You spend ten minutes staring out at the view, your thoughts slowly going from deep introspection to that tiny little voice that says 'jump'. Or the one that says 'I bet I could hit that bird with my axe from here'. You're not what anyone would call a good waiter.

Light finally arrives, appearing just below the top of the tower in a flash of sunlight and launching herself upwards so that she's stood at the highest point, even though it means she's shoulder-to-shoulder with you.

"You're late," you say, not looking at her.

"I arrived precisely when I intended to," she says, folding her arms. "We need to collect some supplies, and then we have a hundred mile trip to the ritual site."

You blink at the distance. "A hundred miles? I didn't-"

"It will take us approximately twenty minutes if we move at top speed," she interrupts. "It is not something you need to worry about. Follow me."

She curls her legs and pushes forwards, launching herself into the empty air and beginning to drop the hundreds of feet back down to ground level.

"We couldn't have just met on the street?" you grumble. "Way to waste my time."

You follow, jumping a little further out than her and angling yourself head down so you drop faster. You pass her as you fall, giving her a cheeky wave as you drift lower, and flip around at the last moment to land on your feet, perfectly placed on one of the little patches of grass outside the Eye. Your landing doesn't even leave the slightest dents in the soil, despite your enormous fall, and Light lands a second later to similar effect. She dusts off her immaculate outfit and then she jumps away again, not saying a word.

You chase her though the city until you reach a hardware store. It looks like it's been looted, and half the building is charred and collapsing, but Light steps inside through one of the enormous broken windows without a pause.

"I secured the supplies we will require several nights ago," she says over her shoulder as she picks her way through the detritus.

You plough through without looking down, letting your natural toughness and your heavy metal boots crush anything in your way. It doesn't take very long to reach the supplies, hidden up on one of the steel rafters that spans the barn-like store. Several large cans of paint, some paintbrushes, and a couple of bags of charcoal make up the stash, and you stand on the floor while Light tosses them carefully down to you. You can see why she needs help with this; there's no way anyone could carry all of this by themselves. Not because of the weight, but because of how awkward it is.

"So what's this ritual really do, anyway?" you ask, hoisting charcoal bags onto your shoulders and making sure they're secure. "You said about bleeding off negative emotions?"

Light nods, not looking at you while she weaves together some rope with the paint cans to make an impromptu bandoleer. "I have left marks around the city from these paint cans," she says, lifting the whole set over her head and checking it fits properly. "Signs and symbols that have personal meaning to me. The paint that was used to make them is the same as the paint I will use to draw the designs in the desert, and so the two locations will, essentially, be in the same place."

You nod along. That makes sense, sort of? She gestures for you to follow and takes off towards the edge of the city.

"The charcoal is for a fire," she continues. "We will use it as the centre of the ritual, as fire represents purification and destruction, and so will be a good focus to use for the spell."

"And you need me to, what, just stand guard?"

You're picking up speed, now, as you pass the city limits and start running into the desert proper, streets and houses giving way to grey-green scrub grass and yellow stony dirt. You start off taking normal-length, very fast steps, but Light pulls ahead with ease, bounding along like she's on the surface of the moon, covering dozens of feet a step, and you soon copy her, speeding up to keep pace.

"Stand guard, carry some of the supplies, certainly," she says, eyes fixed on the horizon. "But also to provide a little assistance in the ritual itself. The fire I will use will be sparked by your power, and the very act of guarding me will act as a further reinforcement for the spell. This is very delicate, very complicated, very powerful work, Champion, and you are not to interrupt me regardless of what happens."

"Even if there's a Sin-Eaten about to take your head off?"

"Even then," she says. "Barachiel knows to find a replacement if that happens. It is, however, unlikely. Exceptionally so, in fact."

"And you're dumping all this negative emotion, what, right on our heads?" you ask, thinking you've spotted a flaw in her plan.

"No, of course not," she says, eyes darting to the side to look at you briefly. "That would be incredibly stupid of me. I've set up a third site equidistant from the centre of the city and the centre of this ritual site, that's where the emotions will go."

"Marked it up with more of that paint, huh," you say, gesturing awkwardly to her bandoleer.

"Precisely. You can learn, it seems."

"Oh, fuck you! I'm doing you a favour, here. The least you can do is not take shots like that."

"I will stop when you do, Champion," she sniffs.

"You sure you're not gonna come help out against Lust?" you say, trying to change the subject to something useful.

"I told you the help you can get from me. Leave your Exousiai with me, and I will make sure more Chosen arise when you die," she says, voice monotone. "I am not attending another massacre."

"But it's not going to be a massacre. We've scouted it out, we know what it can-"

"Enough! I am not going near a Sin, Champion!" she snaps, turning her head fully to face you. "I watched my friend die while Shadows cowered like a child and did nothing to help. If you defeat the Sin? Good. If you all die? At least I am not attached to any of you!"

She turns back to face the horizon, legs pumping resolutely, and refuses to talk to you again until you reach the ritual site she's chosen. It's a mesa of rock, raised above the stony desert, and she leaps up to the flat top without breaking step. You follow, landing with a faint clank of armour, and she turns back to look at you.

"Pile up the charcoal here," she says, scuffing a faint 'x' with the tip of her foot on the stone. "I will start marking out the array. Please remain silent until we finish here."

You sneer at her, but bite your tongue. She knows what this magic stuff is about, and you do want to help the city, even if it's like chewing stinging nettles being around her for any length of time. You manifest your axe and rip open the bags of charcoal, making an untidy pile on the point Light indicated, and she waves a hand as she passes, trailing golden light, describing the word 'cone'. The charcoal shifts and slithers until it forms a perfect cone, and you step back in surprise. You knew she was good with this stuff, but that sort of casual display is more than you can manage when you're trying.

The ritual space takes shape shockingly fast; Light is moving from place to place, sketching out a large, triple-triangle shape; three triangles overlaid, each turned so that it's clear and distinct from the others, forming a central nonagon. Inside the points she paints down symbols, things that mean nothing to you, but obviously mean something to her, and places little chips of what look like rock and glass on top of them. She scrawls seven words down each side of each triangle, naming the Sins in plain English, then repeats the pattern on the inside of the lines but naming them in whatever language the Exousia used for them. She finishes in little more than half an hour, leaving an impressively complicated diagram laid out with mathematical precision on the red rock of the mesa.

She steps into the centre and gestures to you, her other hand held with one finger to the mirror-lips of her mask, then to the pile of charcoal. You nod, and step in next to the pile. A thought, and the air shimmers with heat, but then you furrow your brow and focus, concentrating it into a thin ring of fire that you set around the base of the charcoal cone, lighting it aflame without any trouble. Light shoos you out of the diagram, and you retreat to scan the horizon in all directions, keeping an eye out for trouble.

Light begins to chant behind you as you prowl, circling the ritual. You're sweating under the relentless heat of the afternoon sun, and you still smell slightly of blood, and the air is filling with a static tension that's making all the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.


While you wait, you think of what you'll be doing tomorrow. What are you planning?

[] Hit the Sin Chosen.
- [] Tactics?
[] Hit the Sin.
- [] Tactics?
[] Gather information.
- [] What?
[] Hang out with someone.
- [] Who?

And I will need 2 rolls of 2d6. One roll of 2d6 per poster, please.

 

[Nevill]

[] Hit the Sin Chosen.

Probably. We need to ask Miz what she can do. Shadows is on Support, Angel on Escape Prevention (gravity should work well to limit the enemy mobility), and Jen herself is an ideal frontline fighter against the Chosen and whatever Sin-Eaten she assembles.

The important bit is to ambush her and to not allow her escape.

Rolling the 1st set... you've got to be kidding.

Nevill threw 2 6-faced dice. Reason: 1st set Total: 3

 

[Khona Moshr]

Well let's hope my luck is high today

Khona Moshr threw 2 6-faced dice. Total: 10

 

[Kadmus]

Champion knows that Miz has a similar skill set to Angel - she's a tank, in game terms. Light mentioned it way back and it only came up once so it's easy to miss.

 

[Nevill]

[x] Hit the Sin Chosen.
-[x] Ambush as per Shadows' plan. Champion and Angel spring the ambush and take the brunt of the offensive. Shadows acts as support/debuffer. Miz is in reserve, her role is to shut the lid on the trap, limit the Sin Chosen's mobility and prevent her escape.

Hex her to hell and back.

She would expect the three Chosen she saw before, but not Miz. Make use of that fact.

 

[Khona Moshr]

[x] Hit the Sin Chosen.
-[x] Ambush as per Shadows' plan. Champion and Angel spring the ambush and take the brunt of the offensive. Shadows acts as support/debuffer. Miz is in reserve, her role is to shut the lid on the trap, limit the Sin Chosen's mobility and prevent her escape.

 

[Andres]

[X] Hit the Sin Chosen.
-[X] Ambush as per Shadows' plan. Champion and Angel spring the ambush and take the brunt of the offensive. Shadows acts as support/debuffer. Miz is in reserve, her role is to shut the lid on the trap, limit the Sin Chosen's mobility and prevent her escape.

 

[veekie]

[x] Hit the Sin Chosen.
-[x] Ambush as per Shadows' plan. Champion and Angel spring the ambush and take the brunt of the offensive. Shadows acts as support/debuffer. Miz is in reserve, her role is to shut the lid on the trap, limit the Sin Chosen's mobility and prevent her escape.

 

[Alchemist767676]

[X] Hit the Sin Chosen.
- [X] Ambush as per Shadows' plan. Champion and Angel spring the ambush and take the brunt of the offensive. Shadows acts as support/debuffer. Miz is in reserve, her role is to shut the lid on the trap, limit the Sin Chosen's mobility and prevent her escape.

 

[Kadmus]

Spoiler: AN

Vote results:
[X] Hit the Sin Chosen.
- [X] Ambush as per Shadows' plan. Champion and Angel spring the ambush and take the brunt of the offensive. Shadows acts as support/debuffer. Miz is in reserve, her role is to shut the lid on the trap, limit the Sin Chosen's mobility and prevent her escape.

Rolls: 3, the magical ritual fails with catastrophic results. 10, the ambush goes off as planned.

Spoiler: Combat Log

COMBAT 3: MIZ, SHADOWS, ANGEL AND CHAMPION VS LUST SIN-CHOSEN

Champion, Miz and Angel at Position 5. Shadows and LSC at Position 1.

ROUND 1

Shadows retreats 1 Position to Position 2.
Shadows Hexes LSC.

LSC 21/21 Hx.

Champion moves in 1 Position to Position 4.
Champion moves in 1 Position to Position 3.

Miz moves in 1 Position to Position 4.
Miz moves in 1 Position to Position 3.

Angel moves in 1 Position to Position 4.
Angel moves in 1 Position to Position 3.

LSC uses Speed Burst, moves 1 Position for free. LSC in Position 2.
LSC attacks Shadows. Rolls 20.
Shadows defends. Rolls11, rerolls 6, gets 1. 12 total, Shadows hit. Shadows incurs 1 Heart Overcharge.
Shadows takes 6 damage. LSC uses Reaping Strike for an extra 7 damage.
Shadows incurs 1 Magic Overcharge.
LSC inflicts Bleeding on Shadows.

Shadows 5/18 1/0/1 Bl.


END ROUND 1

Shadows takes 2 damage from Bleeding.
Shadows 3/18 1/0/1 Bl.

LSC takes 1 damage from Hex.
LSC 20/21 Hx.

Champion, Miz, Angel in Position 3.
Shadows, LSC in Position 2.

Shadows retreats 1 Position to Position 3.
Shadows attempts to stop Bleeding. Rolls 19, rerolls 6s, gets 5 and 4. 28 total. Bleeding stopped, Shadows incurs 2 Heart Overcharge.

Shadows 3/18 3/0/1

Champion Hexes LSC.
Champion uses Amplify Magic on LSC.
Champion uses Bonus Action, incurs 2 Magic Overcharge.
Champion attacks LSC, rolls 12. LSC defends, rolls 9. LSC hit.
LSC takes 1 damage.

Champion 18/18 0/0/2
LSC 19/21 2Hx. AM.

Angel moves 1 Position to Position 2.
Angel attacks LSC. Rolls 16. LSC defends, rolls 20. Angel misses.

Miz uses Empower and becomes Calm. +1 to all Defense rolls until status effect removed.
Miz attacks LSC. Rolls 12. LSC defends, rolls 12. Miz misses.

LSC attempts to use Dash Strike. Angel attempts to intercept. LSC rolls 13, Angel rolls 13. LSC wins. Angel incurs 1 Heart Overcharge.
LSC moves 1 Position to Position 3 and attacks Shadows. Rolls 16. Miz attempts to Cover. Rolls 19, rerolls 6, gets 1. +1 from Calm. 21 total. Miz incurs 1 Heart Overcharge.
Miz takes 4 damage.
LSC uses Bonus Action.
LSC attacks Shadows. Rolls 22. Miz attempts to Cover. Rolls 14. +1 from Calm. 15 total.
Miz takes 7 damage.
Miz incurs 2 Heart Overcharge.

Angel 18/18 1/0/0
Miz 7/18 3/0/0

END ROUND 2.

LSC takes 4 damage from Hex + Hex + Amplified Magic.

LSC 15/21 2Hx. AM.

Shadows 3/18 3/0/1
Miz 7/18 3/0/0
Angel 18/18 1/0/0
Champion 18/18 0/0/2

Shadows, Champion, Miz, LSC in Position 3.
Angel in Position 2.

Miz uses Second Wind. Heals 10 resolve.
Miz attacks LSC. Rolls 15, rerolls 6, gets 6, rerolls 6, gets 4. 31 total. Miz incurs 2 Fury Overcharge. LSC defends. Rolls 20. Miz hits.
Miz deals 8 damage to LSC.

Miz 17/18 3/2/0.
LSC 7/21 2Hx. AM.

Shadows casts Heal on herself. Heals 7 resolve. Shadows incurs 1 Heart Overcharge.
Shadows Hexes LSC.

Shadows 10/18 4/0/1
LSC 7/21 3Hx. AM.

Champion attacks LSC. Rolls 14. LSC defends, rolls 9. Champion hits.
LSC takes 6 damage.

LSC 1/21 3Hx. AM.

Angel moves 1 Position to Position 3.
Angel uses Boost, incurs 1 Fury Overcharge, and attacks LSC. Rolls 20. LSC defends, rolls 14. Angel hits.
Angel deals 6 damage to LSC.

LSC down.

END COMBAT

Shadows 10/18 4/0/1
Miz 17/18 3/2/0
Angel 18/18 1/1/0
Champion 18/18 0/0/2

Part 7
Wednesday, Week 2

The pressure in the air around you builds higher and higher as Light's chanting fills your ears. The sky above you seems to warp and twist, and at first you think you're just seeing things, but as the chant continues you can see that the scattered clouds above are being pulled, spiralling, inwards and down. Is this what's supposed to be happening?

You're not sure. But you can feel it when Light starts to panic, hear the desperate edge to her words as she fights the spell, pushing it to do what she wants, warring with the vast sums of energy she's gathered together to do this. The vortex above you is descending, the tip right over the top of the two of you, and it's starting to get uncomfortably close.

The fire in the middle of the diagram flares, once, twice, then it explodes in a wave of force that sends you hurtling off the top of the mesa. You tumble through the air in a flat arc for what feels like minutes before you plough into the dry, stony earth, leaving a long furrow in the empty desert. You push yourself to your feet, ears ringing and head spinning, and look back in the direction you flew from. You've been thrown a good half mile, although the only damage to the area seems to be from you smashing into it. The mesa's still there, and you waste no time in returning to the ritual site.

The diagram is gone completely, as is the fire, and Light is lying on her side with her mask torn off her face. You can't see where it landed, and as you get closer to the prone Chosen you can see that she's still alive and breathing, but she looks ill – her skin is an ashen grey, and her eyes are wide and staring blankly. Her skin is beaded with sweat, and as you're about to kneel next to her she convulses and vomits a puddle of something that looks like oil, a rainbow-surfaced slick of black discharge that dribbles over the dry red rock of the mesa and rolls upwards instead of down.

"Ugh," Light groans, blinking heavily. "That-" she hacks and vomits up more of the strange liquid, and you step back so none of it gets on you. "That did not go as planned," she says. "I fear I may have..."

She trails off and pushes herself to her feet, accepting the reluctant hand you offer to get her upright.

"Didn't work?" you ask, feeling distinctly put out that you've done all of this tedious bullshit and spent hours with the living embodiment of looking down your nose at people. "Well, this was a waste of time, then wasn't it?"

Light sags against you, her legs not working properly to support her as she heaves up another deluge of the horrible fluid. It smells like ozone and burning rubber and it splatters onto your boots as Light clings to you to stay upright.

"I may have made things worse," she whispers wretchedly. "We will have to return and see."

You step away and let her fall to the dusty rock.

"What the fuck do you mean, 'made it worse'?" you shout. "How in fuck's name do you go from 'reduce negative emotions' to 'increase negative fucking emotions'?"

"I did not mean to!" she says, trying to push herself upright on shaking arms. "The spell went wrong."

You stare down at her in disbelief.

1. What do you do with Light?

[] Leave her here. Serves the idiot right to have to make her own way back, and you've done your favour for her now.
[] Take her back to the city. You can't stand her – and how she's wrong despite her haughty pretensions – but now she'll owe you one.
[] … no-one would ever know. You hate her so much, and you know that her Exousia would choose a new girl.


Regardless of your decision, you spend the next half hour sprinting back to the city, hoping against hope that Light was wrong, that the only effect the spell had was to knock you ass over end halfway across the desert.

It is in vain. You can hear the sirens as you get closer to the city, see the smoke rising from dozens of locations, and as you race through the chaotic streets you can see the full blown riot that's broken out. Mobs of people clash against each other, police are trying desperately to keep the situation under control, and there are makeshift barricades across every other road.

You arrive at your home in a panic, and find that it's untouched. Miz is sat on top of a pile of unconscious people down the street, cleaning her gun with a deliberate nonchalance, and she gives you a wave as you approach.

"I hate being woken up," she says. "These guys were being pretty noisy, so I shut them up."

"Thank you," you say, relief clear in your voice. "I... I have no idea what we should be doing."

"Bunker up," Miz says, standing from the pile and grabbing the top two senseless bodies and dragging them away down the road. You do the same. "Not like we can do that much, like this."

"I guess you're right," you say, as you start propping up bruised and battered people along the bigger road a few streets down from your house. "I thought everything was starting to get better."

Miz shrugs. "Shit happens. I'm gonna check up on my family and stuff after this."

Shit. Emily. Ostin. You nod your agreement and, after a quick call to your grandma to let her know you'll be sleeping over at Emily's tonight, speed across the city to check on your friends. They're both okay, although Ostin has a broken arm, and you spend the rest of the night flitting from spot to spot, keeping a weary eye on your friends and family until dawn breaks and exhaustion and light chases off the remaining rioters.


Thursday, Week 2

School is cancelled.

You arrange to meet with the others after midday, to allow all of you to get some rest after a sleepless night spent guarding whoever it is that's most important to you. Miz crashes at yours again, and the two of you make your way to the meeting point in bleary silence. Angel and Shadows are waiting for you, and they both look as tired as you feel, but you're determined to do something today. You can't just sit around and plan any more.

"We need to take out the Sin Chosen," you say, without preamble. "Without the threat of her on the field, the Sin will be much easier to fight."

"You're talkin' my language," Angel says, a cocky grin easing onto her face. "What's the plan?"

"Shadows' plan sounded good to me," you say, nodding to the slumped redhead. "She lures out the Sin Chosen, we close the trap around it. Miz, you cover the back, keep the escape routes locked down so it can't escape."

"I can do that," she says blandly, fiddling with her gun. "What am I looking at, here? What's she got in her bag of tricks?"

"She's, um, very agile?" Shadows says. "And she, like, moves fast. And, um, she messes with your head."

"That's about all I noticed, yeah," you say. "Think of this like a warm-up. If we can't take her out, the Sin might be a pain in the ass."

"Cool. I can handle it," Miz says.

"Angel and I will focus on taking her down, get in close and mix it up so she has to think fast," you continue. "Shadows, I want you to withdraw and try to keep her corralled with your magic."

"Um, okay," Shadows says. She smiles. "I'm glad I'm not, like, gonna have to, um, fight her up close."

"You will be in the most danger at the start," you warn. "We can't be too close or she'll spot us and skedaddle."

"I-I can take care of it," Shadows says, a determined frown on her face. "You can, um, count on me!"

You move to the red light district and get set up. You and Angel are on rooftops outside the district, able to see Shadows but far enough away that it should be hard to see you when the Sin Chosen approaches. Miz is lurking in an alleyway on the opposite side from you, hiding under an overhang, ready to jump up and close the trap when she gets the signal. Shadows' phone is on and you all have a line open to her, ready to jump into action when you hear her give the right code phrase.

It's nerve wracking, waiting for an agonising hour for the Sin Chosen to finally show up. You keep your cool, though, and so does everyone else, although you can hear Shadows grumbling through your phone, complaining about the hot sun. Finally, the Sin Chosen arrives, tumbling across the rooftops with her usual acrobatic grace. She saunters up to Shadows, completely unconcerned with the threat that the girl poses, and starts a conversation.

You only hear parts of what the Lust Sin Chosen says, but you can hear Shadows' responses loud and clear. She doesn't wait long before giving you the go phrase.

"So why should I, um, like, join you?"

You jump into action, vaulting over the air conditioning unit you've been hiding behind and sprinting full-pelt across the rooftops towards the Sin Chosen. Angel launches into the sky, soaring forwards with her sword raised, and Miz catapults up onto the roofs on the far side of the Sin Chosen, moving closer herself.

Shadows backs away, making a sharp gesture with her hand as she goes and wrapping a length of barbed shadow around the Sin Chosen. It's all going according to plan. Shadows is pulling back, you're all closing in to keep the Sin Chosen occupied, and you start pulling on your magic to fling a burning wreath over the Sin Chosen.

Then she moves. One second, she's stood in the middle of an empty roof, glaring at a retreating Shadows, and the next she's past the fleeing girl, and Shadows' throat is opened from side to side. Blood pumps out into the hot midday air, arterial spurts that travel shockingly far, even as Shadows stumbles and nearly collapses, white with shock.

The Sin Chosen sneers at the fumbling Shadows, and turns to look at the rest of you with a mocking smile. "So, you come to try and end me?" she says. "Idiots. You could have lived forever."

Shadows stumbles further, finally falling to her knees next to Miz. Her shaking hands wreathed in shadow, she presses them to her throat and tries to get the bleeding under control, but you can't see what happens past that.

You scream with rage and hurl your curse at the Sin Chosen, peppering her with a hundred burrowing embers, following it up with a layer of baleful magic that makes the embers flare up into full-blown flames. You draw back both your hands, surrounding them with white-hot fire, and thrust them forwards, catching the Sin Chosen with the edge of a torrent of flame.

Angel howls as she dives down at the Sin Chosen, sword swinging wildly, but the naked woman bends and flips and avoids the deadly edge by a hair's breadth, over and over again. Angel skips back a step and Miz opens up, a steady crack-crack-crack of gunfire skimming the Sin Chosen's skin but failing to do any real damage.

The Sin Chosen takes advantage of the small space and bounds forwards, turning a cartwheel with her hands planted on Angel's head to escape the scrum, and launches herself high into the air, greasy magic coagulating around her pointed index finger. She pulls it back and then thrusts it forwards with brutal speed, aiming to smash Shadows through the roof, but Miz takes a single step to the side and bats the attack aside with her rifle. The magic explodes off to the side, rocking Miz and cutting up the side of her uniform, but she stands tall and firm, staring down the Sin Chosen.

You've been sprinting closer the whole time, and you have a great view of the sadistic smirk on the Sin Chosen's face as she curls her other hand into a claw and loops it down and under to try and eviscerate Shadows. Miz drops to one knee to block the strike, taking it full to the chest, and blood flows down the front of her outfit to pool on the rooftop in thick rivers. You hear Miz gasp out, a single long exhale, and then she calmly lifts her gun barrel and presses it to the Sin Chosen's sternum.

"Got too close, bitch," she rasps, and pulls the trigger. The flashes of gunfire are brighter than any mere gunpowder, pure sunfire erupting from the barrel of the gun to bore a dozen melted holes in the Sin Chosen's torso.

Behind Miz, Shadows pushes herself to her feet, her ruined throat filled with shadows, and glares at the shocked Sin Chosen. She claws both of her hands and shoves them forwards, pushing tenebrous spikes into the foe's wounds, like she's sprouted shadowy brambles from her fingertips.

You skid in from the side in a pitcher's slide, axe swinging, and take the Sin Chosen out at the knees. She starts to topple, bleeding from dozens of wounds, but Angel arrives in a flash of silver feathers and impales her sword straight through the Sin Chosen's heart.

You all wait with bated breath as the Sin Chosen's eyes go wide and desperate, but the fight's gone out of her, and she slides off Angel's sword with a wet thud. She shimmers, and the perfectly-formed, beautiful young woman is gone, replaced by a gaunt, sickly-looking bald girl in a hospital gown.

2. What do you do now?

[] Take her Eikon and interrogate her.
[] Take her Eikon and tie her up and dump her at a hospital.
[] Take her Eikon and kill her.
[] Write in.

AN: The Sin Chosen was going to flee when she a) had successfully killed one of the team or b) hit half health. Miz was a badass and stopped a, and then the team ripped the Sin Chosen to shreds in a single round, so there was no opportunity for b. Goes to show how powerful that reroll 6s thing is!

 

[Andres]

[X] Take her back to the city. You can't stand her – and how she's wrong despite her haughty pretensions – but now she'll owe you one.
[X] Take her Eikon and interrogate her.