"Jocelyn," you asked, "why are you moving back on my head?"
"No particular reason."
"Could you balance a little better? It's making it hard to look down."
"Ah, ok."
Grabbing the Apple Substitute, you put it in the glass and threw it back in the oven to start molding. In the meantime, potions- that… were already simmering in the rack."
"I was wondering when you'd notice." Joselyn said smugly from her perch on your noggin. "It's why I came in here in the first place."
"And what are those potions of?" you asked.
"Oh, strength, rejuvenation, and perception respectively. I labeled the bottles."
Going over, you squinted at the Fraktur applied lazily in Sharpie marker to the bottles. Pulling out some butcher paper, you started slowly transcribing the heavy morass of ink into something more legible.
"If you didn't tell me that, I would have no idea what Wahrnehmungserhöhung, Gesundheitsverbesserer, or Kraftverstärker are; and even with that context I still can't tell which one is which."
"Listen, I'm sorry Balthazar was a bastard and made us all learn German to label shit in, but at this point you're gonna have to live with it."
Well, the good news is, Jocelyn the Sapient Spider Plushie Thing seems to be settling in well and being a contributing member of the team, albeit a sometimes annoying one.
When it was done, though, the amulet was worth the wait. Shiny and smooth at first feel, it was the size of the palm of your hand on a silvery chain and a distinct weight. It didn't take much time to figure it was aluminum pendant, though, and a cautionary feel told you that the illusions it made would always be real in two respects. A picture could not only move, but produce a sound or scent or touch; a wind would blow hair and debris as well as bear a foul stench, and a call for help would vary in volume from how close or far someone was. In addition, at the core of it, was a nastier deception- if a victim was truly fooled, the illusions would harm as well. Swords cut, arrows bit, and salt burned if someone thought it would be so.
Ooh. That's a
very weaponizable trinket. Of course, the problem is that she won't be able to, say, use the illusory sword to block an incoming attack.
"Alright, fuck, looks like I need you to pay you in the big guns." Trompdoy muttered. Going back to her room, she pulled out a large, lead-lined container, before handing it over to you. "Got this thing from the Witches a month and change ago. The Familiar that could still speak called it a Kolobok, and it's a weird little thing. Heals you up tough as hell, but it's constantly emitting radiation. Crack that container open to get the full effect, but it'll still start making you feel queasy after a while."
@7734
Hm, are we speaking Geiger counter radiation, or magical radiation? Because the latter is something Medicine Boy may know how to screen himself against, but the former, not so much.
You nodded. "Anything else you want to kick in?"
Rolling her eyes, Trompdoy sighed and grabbed a small bag. Inside were three two-carat diamonds, and a massive garnet. "There. That also covers our rent for next month."
"But of course." You replied, grinning. Grabbing the lead-lined container, you hefted it over your right shoulder. "Pleasure doing business!"
Nice.
The good times were not to last long, sadly. It was just after the shower period that Sofia came up to you, and looked at you pointedly. It wasn't long before you were under one of the handful of trees on the property, sighing as the far-off sounds of the highway through the blight cut through your surroundings.
"I need a favor." She said, blunt. "My girlfriend needs a room. Bad."
"I've got space available, but from what you said she doesn't have any powers." You replied carefully. "I can't see how she'll make rent."
"She can live with me for all I care; I'll buy a futon or something."
Sighing, you put your head in your hands. "That's not what I was- do you even want- no, you're dating, but- arg."
Sitting down, you tried to marshal your thoughts. "I wanted to try and talk to those new girls; Chevron and Mars. You remember how bad your first month was, and when whatever the fuck is happening out there kicks off, I want them here. Safe. I barely have kitchen capacity now to feed all of you and the girls who come in for a safe place to kick their shoes off, and taking on three more permanent residents is going to shock the balance."
"You've got plenty of space in that kitchen though!" Sofia said, waving her arm out.
You groaned, sitting under the tree. "It's not just cooking space, it's food storage and prep. We cook off hot plates and a few camping ranges, and as good as Homer is we'll need to go to two cooks soon; as well as finding more storage space. A second fridge, more gas cylinders for the good range, a real 220 volt extension over there so I can do a power hub, just… god. So much stuff."
"Then bring Chris in, have her-"
Slamming a hand over her mouth, you shot her your most dedicated 'shut the fuck up' look and hissed. "No. Damn. Names."
"Then bring Erika in and have her fucking cook then!" Sofia groaned. "Seriously, she can cook pretty well, and it's not like eating halal will kill you. Plus you can have her play seeing eye dog for Homer when he goes on grocery runs instead of having Calypso do it..."
"Well, home is where the bed is." Sofia opined, before grinning. "Now I'm dry enough to go get dressed, and start planning how to get Erika out."
Hm yeah, "plan how to get" sounds like she's been kidnapped or something.
You nodded, heading back to the building. Something stopped you, though, as a whiff of conversation came from the normal backdoor.
"What do you mean you're the shower attendant!" a girl yelled. "You're a guy!"
"I assure you, it's not like I could sneak a peek if I wanted to." Homer griped as you got closer. Three girls were surrounding him, glaring from behind creampuff dresses and fancy sticks that someone had conned them into. "I'm blind."
"A likely story!" one of them scoffed. "That bandanna is just for show!"
You winced. Homer had, at some point in the last few weeks, adopted the practice of wearing a headscarf tied low over his forehead in a style that struck you as being mildly Afghan to hide his acid burns, while a strip of black cloth covered what was left of his eye sockets.
Oof. That's a kick.
One of the new girls stepped up- the one that had called you Sevenfingers- and grabbed your wrist. "One of the girls said we could take a shower if we paid extra for lunch, and, um… we need it. Can you please just have him go away for five minutes?"
Sighing, you looked at her more closely. Water power, go figure. Going over to the mess in the back, you sighed.
Hm, subtlety there I'm missing, but I suppose it's important because of that?
"So, why?" he asked, sighing. You knew what he was talking about.
"We're never going to catch up." You said, sighing. "There's always going to be a new girl who never realizes they signed up for this, and they're always going to be a hotshot until those pretty sticks are broken in a back ally and they're staring Hell in the face. Something cracks- sometimes their pride, sometimes their hope, sometimes their lives."
"There's still shit we shouldn't have to deal with." Homer argued. "This isn't some corporation trying to suck them dry; we're in just as bad of a spot as they are- worse if some Witch thinks she can dislodge us. We can't fight."
"That doesn't mean we try and cause strife where the wheels stick, either." You said, feeling a weight beyond your years. "We are the only hope for some of them, and the sooner they see us and our light the sooner they can come."
"The old girls are worried." Homer countered. "If you want to keep them safe and secure, well, we can knock together some barrack rooms and pack 'em in like sardines for a while. It would be uncomfortable as hell and hard on our backs to service the upper floors, but we could do it."
I'm a bit confused about this; is the idea to put together barracks rooms to increase the number of tenants we can take on?
Also, as noted, gonna need to upgrade the kitchen facilities if we do this, for the reasons discussed.
"By the way!" Homer said, jumping up. "At some point, I'd like to get a shot to make something, and it's not like I can make anything more complicated than a one-person room."
Uhhhh. I'm confused about what Homer is proposing to do here, other than "use the workshop for crafting."
Build a Tool
[] [WORK] Trinket
-[] Write in Level, between 1 and 3.
[] [WORK] Wand
-[] Write in Level, between 1 and 2.
[] [WORK] Bomb
-[] Write in Level, between 1 and 1.
[] [WORK] Costume
-[] Write in Level, between 1 and 1.
[] [WORK] No, you want to improve your workshop instead.
[] [WORK] No, you want to improve your workshop instead.
[] [WORK] No, you want to research an item instead.
-[] Write in Item in inventory to Reaserch
Uhhh.
As noted, we're pushing the limits of what the kitchen can handle, because we're cooking off hot plates and a lone refrigerator.
[X] [WORK] No, you want to work on your building instead.
The Chris Question
[] [CHRIS] No, she can't stay. You'll work to get her safe with another group, but you can't keep her here.
[] [CHRIS] You'll let her crash in Mistletoe's room. It'll be tight, but not unsafe.
[] [CHRIS] You'll let her have a full room to herself; either she can make rent or you can go collect from Mistletoe.
[] [CHRIS] Something smells fishy about this; reserve a final decision on the matter until you meet her yourself and send some backup with Mistletoe to go get her.
I don't mind letting her stay but I'm worried about safety. If something's triggering Medicine Boy's street smarts I'm all for honoring that, and we've got extra magical girls around.
[X] [CHRIS] Something smells fishy about this; reserve a final decision on the matter until you meet her yourself and send some backup with Mistletoe to go get her.
No opinion on the matter of Chris, but I do know what I want to work on. One turn for the Workshop, as Building and Crafting were done previously.
[] [WORK] No, you want to improve your workshop instead.
I'm a bit iffy on whether we pressingly need a workshop upgrade. We can already manufacture good wands and trinkets, and we spam bombs constantly. Yeah, they COULD be longer-lasting, but we're not running up against the limit where the kit we're giving the magical girls is breaking down faster than we can replace it yet.
I know a bottleneck
exists where our equipment being too short-lived is a problem. But we're really, really not there yet, the way we would be if we were still mostly making stuff that only lasted d10 weeks.
We ARE running up against the bottleneck where we can't feed any more tenants, though. As noted, that's gonna be a problem if things go south and something big and nightmarish hits the city, because the only real safety we have is strength in numbers, and I suspect isolated homeless magical girls are going to get picked off pretty easily if things get messy.
We've ALWAYS had a housing crisis. We've only upgraded the housing recently. Theres never been a turn where our crafting throughput OR building capacity is sufficient.
We need the workshop to get ahead of the craft log(e.g like our free bomb factory giving us 3 expendables per significant item) or we'd simply be treading water making items at a replacement rate, until we drown in too many girls with too many needs.
We're regularly turning out Tier II and III items that we can reasonably expect to last for months. Trying to further upgrade the workshop until we can at least FEED more people is a case of the perfect becoming the enemy of the good in this case, I think.
Personally I don't see what's funky about this. I guess keep an eye on her, but I'm sure what's to suspicious about. I don't think she should be here, but if that's how Mistletoe wants to play it, that's on her.
This isn't so much about Chris being worthy of suspicion, as the situation. Some kind of trap, or Mistletoe's enemies having figured out to use Chris as bait, or something.