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The Restless Dead Want YOU To Fight Necromancy
- Thread starter Wysteria
- Start date
- Location
- USA
If the leaving vote were to win, we will check on Ken automatically (if briefly) before going.
For one thing, he's our top choice to ask for a ride.
In general, I take inspiration from comments, subvotes, and popular vote-runners-up in if I can.
- Location
- Sweden
Ahhh PC agency I like that!
28. That Could Have Gone Better
- Location
- USA
[X]You should probably go.
-[X]Go find Ken, he's been gone a long time.
-[X] Ask someone to find some blood for you (preferably Ken if he's well).
-[X]Go home. Maybe even sleep.
Saturday 12 May 2001
7:30 AM (Day)
Willpower: 2/4 (strained)
Hunger: 11.3/30 (very hungry)
Power: 4.1
-[X]Go find Ken, he's been gone a long time.
-[X] Ask someone to find some blood for you (preferably Ken if he's well).
-[X]Go home. Maybe even sleep.
Saturday 12 May 2001
7:30 AM (Day)
Willpower: 2/4 (strained)
Hunger: 11.3/30 (very hungry)
Power: 4.1
He'd probably taste disgusting.
Ken, on the other hand, is not disgusting. You should go see him, and see if he'll give you a ride home. You're torn – there's so much you don't know, and so much to do, but you won't do anyone any good if you make yourself more of a danger than you already. You can also arrange the details of your ritual with him, while you're at it.
You collect your zombie head from the fridge it had been stored in, and find Nurse Mitchell. She directs you to the ER, which is apparently already decontaminated and reopened. Efficient. There you find Ken, who has his bad arm in a sling under a draped white coat, which at least disguises the arcane effect from the crowd.
And there is a crowd, of people with sniffles and mothers with children and old men and anxious-looking gentlemen in dirty clothes. You are not a new vampire, and you are not stupid. You wave at a nurse from the doorway, rather than going into that room and testing your resolve.
"What can I do for you?"
"I'm Morgan, I'm volunteering." More or less. "I need to speak to Dr. Finn."
"He's doing patient intake, but I'll tell him you need a minute."
It takes at least five minutes for Ken to extract himself from the conversation he's having with a nervous hypochondriac mother and her daughter Rose. Rose, a pretty ten year old with glossy black hair with a pink headband, looks fine. Her mother is convinced she's caught the zombie plague.
Ken ushers you into an unused exam room. You perch on the edge of the exam table, and he stands by the door.
"Sorry, everyone and their mother decided they had to come in because obviously the dog that bit them was a zombie dog. It… there aren't zombie dogs, are there?"
You recall the taste of the spell, without the tang of the wild that you get from werewolves.
"I don't think there are zombie dogs," you confirm. "And even then, it would need to break the skin."
Ken sighs gustily.
"Good. Not that any of them believe me, but it's one less problem. Now, what did you need?"
He seems busy, so best to keep this brief and get to the point.
"I'm planning to head home, but I wanted to make sure you could contact me."
There is a brief confusion of phones, and then Ken has your number saved and a text from you stating your address, with a promise to give it to the patients you helped in case there are any complications. Any complications, you reiterate. They're your responsibility now.
"What else?"
"Well, maybe a suggestion to rest. Just because the infection's contained doesn't mean you aren't still injured."
"National emergency's been declared, did you hear? We are all to 'assist the armed forces as best you may.' This is what I can do."
You admire his dedication, but worry about his health. That's another responsibility you've assumed this night, and you're not interested in failure. Especially since he seems interesting.
"At least keep the fire axe with you, in case someone who comes in actually has been bitten by a zombie?"
"It's down the hall. Anything else?"
"I could use a ride home."
"I suppose I could call you a cab – I am actually at work, you know?"
Yes, you do know that. He's wearing the white coat and everything. Which reminds you.
"Say, do you know if there's anywhere else in the area with that convenient bagged blood? Or will there be more arriving here soon?"
"We are getting more in on loan, but we need it for patients, Morgan. The people you stole from? Ring a bell?"
"Yes, well. I just meant, I thought it would be best…."
"You want me to help you steal more blood in the middle of a national emergency? I covered for you. I said zombies must have gotten into the storage rooms. Why the hell did I cover for you? What is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"There's nothing wrong with either of us. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
He is manifestly not fine, and also yelling at you. You can't say you're a fan.
"You didn't object at the time."
"You were threatening to kill me! You had your fangs about two inches from my throat! Want to try that again, huh? Threaten me?"
You are tempted. You have, however, eaten recently, and that keeps you still, except for your silent snarl.
You probably wouldn't have attacked him even if it was mealtime. You like to think you're not that sort of person. You hope you are.
It helps that he steps right up to you, fists clenched, rather than retreating. He isn't acting like prey.
"If you think about stealing from another hospital, from people who need help, I'll- I'll-"
He's like a little angry kitten. You smile, and raise your eyebrows encouragingly.
"I'll tell Bruce on you."
You wince. That's just not fair.
"Doctor? We have a little boy with a compound fracture. Are you free?" A brunette nurse pokes her head through the door.
"Coming," Ken says over his shoulder to her, then swings back to you, blue eyes very flat. "Get out of my hospital, Morgan."
He leaves. That's just not fair, you can't follow him into a room with a bleeding child. You actually do have very good reasons for wanting to eat something, among them not being a danger to those around you and fuel for magic to deal with this – this situation. You could have explained.
Maybe he found you nearly killing him traumatic?
You were already planning on leaving, but now you have to find a different ride. Luckily for you, this is why minions were invented. It only takes you a few minutes to track down Nurse Mitchell.
"Excuse me, could you give me a ride home? It's only a ten minute drive there. I'd very much appreciate it."
She smiles at you, and puts down the covered tray she was carrying.
"Sure, of course. Which way are we going?"
"Ah – you won't get in trouble for leaving for a bit, will you?"
You have to be careful about these things, with minions. No sense of self preservation.
"Oh, no. Tons of people aren't even showing up for work this morning, they'll just be happy I came back."
"Great."
For you and your smarting conscience, anyway. That was quite the lecture you just got.
You head out to her car, a smart little red thing, and in direct sunlight you don't feel like making conversation. It's shaping up to be a lovely warm clear day. Just what you wanted on a day you're tempted to stay up and pull an all-nighter. All-dayer. There's really no good way to say that.
You slide into the passenger seat, displacing some fast food wrappers and an old newspaper, and close your eyes against the glare.
Stay focused, Morgan. You have a few minutes on the drive, and a cell phone. You could get something useful done.
[]Talk to Nurse Mitchell.
[]Call your accountant.
[]Call Henderson.
[]Call Bruce.
[]Call Abby.
[]Call Ken.
[]Write-in
You have 15 minutes and 3 possible actions. You can also use only one action for the whole 15 minutes. You have a flip phone, not a smart phone. Plan vote, please.
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aldersprig
Twisted Twig
- Location
- Finger Lakes
[X] Plan Responsible Vampiric Being
-[X]Talk to Nurse Mitchell.
-[X]Call Henderson - to let him know we're coming home and please don't shoot us. Oh, and Bruce's wife is visiting.
-[X]Call Bruce - to check on his current status and let him know our plans.
-[X]Talk to Nurse Mitchell.
-[X]Call Henderson - to let him know we're coming home and please don't shoot us. Oh, and Bruce's wife is visiting.
-[X]Call Bruce - to check on his current status and let him know our plans.
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[X]Talk to Nurse Mitchell.
--[X]Talk about side effects of your treatments
--[X]Ask her about getting blood
--[X]If she reacts similarly to Ken, pretend that what you meant was expired or otherwise disqualified blood that isn't suitable for human use, but probably fine for you to eat.
[X]Call Henderson - to let him know we're coming home and please don't shoot us. Oh, and Bruce's wife is visiting.
[X]Call Bruce - to check on his current status and let him know our plans.
Basically aldersprig's plan but with a bit more detail. There's probably a lot of blood unfit for medical use, but perfectly fine for Morgan to nom—maybe there might be some lying around that would be ethical to take?
--[X]Talk about side effects of your treatments
--[X]Ask her about getting blood
--[X]If she reacts similarly to Ken, pretend that what you meant was expired or otherwise disqualified blood that isn't suitable for human use, but probably fine for you to eat.
[X]Call Henderson - to let him know we're coming home and please don't shoot us. Oh, and Bruce's wife is visiting.
[X]Call Bruce - to check on his current status and let him know our plans.
Basically aldersprig's plan but with a bit more detail. There's probably a lot of blood unfit for medical use, but perfectly fine for Morgan to nom—maybe there might be some lying around that would be ethical to take?
fallintolife
the worst vegan
- Location
- Los Angeles
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X] Plan Responsible Vampiric Being
ouch. true, but big ouch.
fair! good to see he knows how to push back. otherwise this would be both boring and much less ethical.
ouch. true, but big ouch.
fair! good to see he knows how to push back. otherwise this would be both boring and much less ethical.
Frankly, the good doctor is being an idiot. We basically have 2 options blood from hospitals or blood from living people. We currently don't have anyone who will feed us voluntarily so either we make them or we need bagged blood. If we starve either we go crazy and kill people (and given we're an elder vampire we're rather more dangerous than some zombies) or we go into torpor. If we go into torpor that's a pretty significant problem for everyone here because this plague is magical and we seem to be the only available sorcerer. We are literally the only one they have access to that can actually cure this plague which for now at least means we're absolutely critical to doing something about it. This also ignores the fact that our other abilities like divination and warding are likely to be rather useful in dealing with things.
- Location
- USA
Ken doesn't know any of this except that Morgan is a sorcerer.
Fair enough, but if that's the case we really really need to speak to Bruce because apparently he's our contact to the authorities. We need to deal with this problem before this turns into a Zombie apocalypse and that means we can't afford to be distracted by needing to look for blood or really anything besides getting to the bottom of this problem.
Varder
Tired Cultist
- Location
- Hell
@aldersprig do you think you could cut calling Bruce? If I recall correctly, he's now moving to the next city and might be in combat or otherwise tense situation. He's a big boy, he knows supernatural, he'll handle himself. And I don't want to distract him by this.
Didn't he just see Morgan gorging on untold amounts of blood? That, and fangs, and fangs near his neck and superstrength and a hunter with a crossbow. None of that rang a bell for Ken? Vampires are still popular on media, right?
Didn't he just see Morgan gorging on untold amounts of blood? That, and fangs, and fangs near his neck and superstrength and a hunter with a crossbow. None of that rang a bell for Ken? Vampires are still popular on media, right?
- Location
- USA
Yes, sorry, I was being imprecise. Ken knows we are a vampire sorcerer who knows about zombies and is pretty scary with a machete. He's pretty confused about why we would need to drink more blood when we already drank a lot. A lot.
If the social roll hadn't been abysmal on top of it being a challenging ask, Morgan would have had a chance to explain, but the dice don't want Morgan to get their foot out of their mouth any time soon.
Dark Lord Potato
Aspiring OverLord from Canada
- Location
- Ottawa, Ontario
Does Nurse Mitchell know that we're a vampire?
- Location
- USA
Not yet, but any plan involving explaining vampire blood side effects to her involves telling her you're a vampire.
She will probably be fine with it, vampire blood is strong stuff, and there's no problems with the veil because minions are exempt.
- Location
- bed
- Pronouns
- She/They
As a minion nurse, I'll put forward that not only are bags of blood stupid expensive, cleaning out an entire fridge worth of the stuff would be crippling to a hospital in a crisis. And taking more blood that the hospital could use to save lives is reprehensible. Ken is being reasonable, from his perspective, at least.
Otherwise:
[X] Plan Responsible Vampiric Being
Playing hungry hungry vampire isnt so great though.
Do we have anything important to discuss with Bruce about? I figure talking to the accountant wouldn't be a bad idea to share gossip but nows probably not the time.
Otherwise:
[X] Plan Responsible Vampiric Being
Playing hungry hungry vampire isnt so great though.
Do we have anything important to discuss with Bruce about? I figure talking to the accountant wouldn't be a bad idea to share gossip but nows probably not the time.
- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Sometimes vampire stories kind of treat blood bags as a cheap and easy way to get blood, but it's really rather inefficient? Drawing blood, storing the bags carefully, tracking it, there's a ton of overhead.
Blood bags are a desperate measure, not a quick snack. Willing donors or something is probably always better.
Blood bags are a desperate measure, not a quick snack. Willing donors or something is probably always better.
Dark Lord Potato
Aspiring OverLord from Canada
- Location
- Ottawa, Ontario
[X] Plan RVB but Bruce is busy
-[X]Talk to Nurse Mitchell.
-[X]Call Henderson - to let him know we're coming home and please don't shoot us. Oh, and Bruce's wife is visiting.
-[X]Talk to Nurse Mitchell.
-[X]Call Henderson - to let him know we're coming home and please don't shoot us. Oh, and Bruce's wife is visiting.
avatar11792
Et Sic Incipit
- Location
- Planet Earth, North America
[X] Plan RVB but Bruce is busy
-[X]Talk to Nurse Mitchell.
-[X]Call Henderson - to let him know we're coming home and please don't shoot us. Oh, and Bruce's wife is visiting.
-[X]Talk to Nurse Mitchell.
-[X]Call Henderson - to let him know we're coming home and please don't shoot us. Oh, and Bruce's wife is visiting.
29. Traffic
- Location
- USA
[X] Plan Responsible Vampiric Being
-[X]Talk to Nurse Mitchell.
--[X]Talk about side effects of your treatments
--[X]Ask her about getting blood
--[X]If she reacts similarly to Ken, pretend that what you meant was expired or otherwise disqualified blood that isn't suitable for human use, but probably fine for you to eat.
-[X]Call Henderson - to let him know we're coming home and please don't shoot us. Oh, and Bruce's wife is visiting.
-[X]Call Bruce - to check on his current status and let him know our plans.
Saturday 12 May 2001
7:40 AM (Day)
Willpower: 2/4 (strained)
Hunger: 11.3/30 (very hungry)
Power: 4.1
-[X]Talk to Nurse Mitchell.
--[X]Talk about side effects of your treatments
--[X]Ask her about getting blood
--[X]If she reacts similarly to Ken, pretend that what you meant was expired or otherwise disqualified blood that isn't suitable for human use, but probably fine for you to eat.
-[X]Call Henderson - to let him know we're coming home and please don't shoot us. Oh, and Bruce's wife is visiting.
-[X]Call Bruce - to check on his current status and let him know our plans.
Saturday 12 May 2001
7:40 AM (Day)
Willpower: 2/4 (strained)
Hunger: 11.3/30 (very hungry)
Power: 4.1
"Shall we do introductions?" you ask. "I'll go first. I'm Morgan, I'm a vampire."
She pulls out of the hospital parking lot smoothly, merging into traffic heading south towards town.
"I'm Elena. Before today, I would have found that pretty surprising."
"I get that a lot. So, Elena, how are you feeling?"
"Really calm. A little worried about my kids – they're away at school. When I get a free moment I'm going to call them."
"That sounds good. What are their names?"
"Michael and Rebecca. I can't decide whether or not to tell them I almost died. That sort of thing can mess a kid up."
"I think right now they'll just be happy you're feeling fine. You are feeling fine, aren't you?"
"I'm feeling really good. Did you give me uppers?"
"Mm… in a sense. Vampire blood. Just – try not to die in the next few days. It'll wear off."
"I'll try," she says doubtfully, changing lanes to avoid a car driven by someone possibly drunk. "Things are pretty crazy out there."
"Oh, have you had a chance to watch the news? I've been a little busy."
"Tons – makes me glad I don't live in the South, but those poor souls."
"Ah – could you give me the short version? Medium-short."
"Well, you know about the zombies."
You nod encouragingly.
"They started popping up all over last night. The president declared a national emergency, and the governor called up the whole national guard to keep things under control here. It's… here, the zombies are mostly people who were turned by one or two zombies who… rose, I guess. In Jacksonville, in Houston, in New Orleans, it's just entire graveyards that dug themselves out of the ground. Fox says they raised the terrorist alert level to red. Could a person really have done this?"
"Oh, yes. Definitely. Do they know where he is, this person? Which city?"
She shakes her head. That was too much to hope for. Flying south to make that man regret everything he's ever done… maybe once you have a better location. Maybe. Maybe you could just try to tell the government where to find him. She slows as you pull into bumper-to-bumper traffic on the bridge. You may have more than fifteen minutes to kill on this car ride.
"What's the army doing in the south?"
"Setting up quarantine and evacuation zones. The coast guard's trying to get people out from the Gulf side, too… I wish there was more I could do."
"You could give me advice about where around here to find more blood," you half-joke.
"Oh, that's easy. The urgent care center in the middle of town, it's just five minutes out of our way. I could drop you there?"
"Oh. No, I'd like to go home."
"I'll swing by so you know where it is. You really can't miss it."
"You don't think they might need the blood for emergencies?"
"They could certainly spare a bag or two for you. Just say you have anemia."
"Ah… hm. Maybe."
She's a bit of a biased testimony, but you don't stop her as she changes into the right hand lane for the turn.
"I think I'm more likely to be mistaken for a zombie than someone with anemia."
"Zombies just stand around staring blankly into space. They're not animated."
"True, I suppose."
"You could have some of mine, too," Elena adds, taking one hand off the wheel to offer you her wrist.
"Not while you're driving."
"Oh, right, sorry."
"Are you sure you're feeling alright?"
"You mean, am I coherent? I'm a little buzzed, sure, but I'm not off my head. You saved my life, my hand - you saved me from turning into one of those things. Unless you want money or something?"
"I definitely do not want money. What would 'or something' be?"
You're morbidly curious.
"Guns? It's the zombie apocalypse, everyone needs a good few guns, and I have more guns than hands."
That actually does sound rather handy.
"How many guns do you have?"
"I've got a pretty good collection, just in case the Democrats won the election and decided to go ahead with banning them."
It's nice to know that you can sleep for a hundred years and politics will be just as opaque as ever.
"I've used a pistol, but that was a very long time ago."
"How long ago?"
"Oh, it was… anyway, it was a flintlock pistol. These days you don't load through the muzzle, do you?"
She laughs.
"No, though there are a few old flintlocks floating around. I don't have any myself. You can get 15, 20 rounds in a good handgun these days, easy. Are you more of a blade person, then?"
You glance down at your machete.
"I got a few lessons in using a cutlass. I wouldn't call myself a blade person, though I am considering learning."
"A cutlass? What do you use a cutlass for?"
Traffic was still crawling. Perhaps a little time to tell a story wouldn't hurt.
"I was living in London when I was pressganged onto a pirate crew. It was… one of the more unpleasant experiences of my life. I did not want to find out what they would do to me if they found I was a vampire, and by the time I woke up we were well out to sea and I can't fly. So I endured until we made our next port of call, in the Americas. I haven't gone to sea since."
"Oh, come on. You can't summarize being a pirate like that. That's a juicy story."
"I was jumpy, miserable, and terrible with a sword. I had to stay awake during the day, and compromise my morals horribly. We jumped a helpless merchant ship, I got my sword stuck in a wall, got shot, and came to a few hours later having slaughtered my way through the guards. For what I hope are obvious reasons, I did not make a career of it."
Elena is silent for a little while, as she maneuvers through the crush of cars.
"What crawled up your ass and died?" she asked finally.
You scrub your hands over your face.
"It's sunny, I don't have time for anything I need to do, and I'm being completely useless and inconsiderate. I didn't think my social skills were this rusty."
"If it helps, Dr. Finn's been snapping at everyone. He's bitchy when he's stressed."
It actually does help.
"You heard, then."
"What one nurse knows, all nurses know. Count on it."
You're pretty sure that isn't actually a rule, but okay.
"Still."
"Did you really do so badly?"
You found a great deal of blood, you saved all the soldiers, you learned some important facts about zombies and got your very own zombie head. You helped some zombie bite victims. Objectively, you couldn't have done much better.
"I suppose I just have the sneaking suspicion that I need to solve all this zombie nonsense before it gets worse."
"Well, it's a nice idea, but we do have a government. The army looks pretty on top of things."
"What are they up to? Quarantine zones, you said?"
"Road blocks all across the country, but especially around the bad cities."
"Which are all in the south?"
"I think so? Los Angeles is on fire, but I think that's just them, I don't think zombies caused it except by, like, knocking over a power line or something."
"I see."
You make a mental note not to be caught by any zombie-related roadblocks. That would get somewhat complex.
You pass a lumber store, a wine store, an Agway, and CVS. Just to make your day complete, after escaping the traffic jam over the inlet bridge, you are immediately plunged back into a traffic jam over the Six Mile Creek bridge. You're going to be in this car forever. You might as well make your phone calls.
The phone rings.
"Henderson residence, Kathy speaking," yawns a young female voice.
"Kathy, hello. Is your father available?"
"He's on his cell. Um – I could take a message, I guess? Are you okay? Dad said the house had ancient mystical protections, but-"
"I'm fine. I'm on my way home now, I'm just stuck in traffic," you soothe. "Who's he on the phone with?"
"My aunt, he's almost finished calling everyone we know and telling them to get their butts over here. Because of the ancient mystical protections."
That is… something. If you and Henderson keep inviting everyone you know and meet to your home, you are going to end up with people camping in the sunroom and on the lawn. Still, it's not like you can take back the invitations now. Can you? Just another thing to add to the list, apparently.
"Morgan?"
"Sorry, I was woolgathering. So your father is calling around, and you are home and fine."
"I'm watching the news. Man. The zombie apocalypse. I don't even have a zombie apocalypse plan, I have no idea – we're waiting for mom to get here. Have you seen any zombies on the drive?"
"No, just very stressed people who are honking at each other a great deal. Ah, speaking of stress, does your father own any guns? Or weapons?"
"No. It's the worst, we're going to have to fight zombies with baseball bats and crowbars."
"I have a machete."
"And one machete."
[]"I'm sure this will blow over in a few days, Kathy."
[]"A few weeks, a couple months at most, and this'll all be a bad memory. Don't worry, we'll get through it."
[X]"We just have to be sensible and plan for the long haul. Don't worry, I'm good at the long haul."
"Yeah. Yeah, okay."
She's definitely crying, and there's definitely nothing you can do about it.
"Go see your father," you order, as gently as you can. "We'll make a plan when I get home. Just let him know I'm coming back, and I also invited a couple guests over. One of them, Mrs. McClelland, should be arriving shortly."
"Okay. Bye, Morgan."
The call ends. You sigh deeply.
"Who was that?" asks Elena.
"My housemate's daughter. She's seventeen."
You pull a whole two car lengths ahead. If it weren't daylight, you'd just run home.
"My kids are nineteen and twenty-one."
"I'll lend you my phone, after I make one more call."
"That's kind of you."
You cruise with agonizing slowness down a strip of big, boxy stores. Wegmans, a grocery store. Homegoods, Staples, Hobby Lobby, Lowes, Walmart. You know where to go if you need very large amounts of anything, now. Everyone else knows, too – this is where all the cars are coming and going from. Everyone is doing early morning panic shopping, it seems. At least there are no zombies in evidence.
You try Bruce, and a nice robotic-sounding lady tells you your call cannot be connected because the lines are busy. There aren't even any lines connected to your phone, and the lady does not answer your questions. How rude.
Elena is very kind and explains about recorded messages that live in your cell phone.
You try Bruce again, and get the lady again. Traffic crawls. Elena points out the urgent care clinic, just south of the big boxy stores, and right before the turn back northeast towards your house. It really is very easy to see, with a big red cross on the sign.
You try Bruce a third time, and it finally connects.
"This is Bruce. Leave a message."
"This is Morgan Williams, Bruce. I'm calling to inform you that I left things stable at the hospital, and am now returning home, where I expect to meet your wife. I hope things are going well with you, and would appreciate an update." That was stiff. Too stiff. You should say something else. "I've seen no signs of zombies in town, so far. I'll kill them if I find them." Now you sound too homicidal. "Goodbye."
You hang up abruptly. You should not be allowed to talk to people.
[]You make a mental note to practice socializing so that you can be less embarrassing.
[X]You make a mental note to practice socializing and swordplay so that you can be less embarrassing.
[]You make a mental note to practice socializing later, right now practicing swordplay will keep zombies from trying to eat your face.
[]You don't make any mental notes. You should just stick to your strengths, rather than wasting time on your weaknesses.
You pull to a halt at a red light, left turn signal blinking. And halt. And halt.
This light seems to be immune to the laws of common decency. Everyone is honking at each other, and no one is obeying the rule to pause to let people turning through. You cover your eyes with your hands again, because it is too bright and cars are very loud.
"I'm not driving now," Elena points out. You lower your hands. Her upturned wrist is right in front of you, offering.
[]You drink lightly.
[]You drink deeply.
[]"Thank you, but I think I'd prefer the guns."
[]"That's very kind, but no thanks are necessary. I had my own reasons to help you."
[]Write-in
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- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X]"A few weeks, a couple months at most, and this'll all be a bad memory. Don't worry, we'll get through it."
[X]You make a mental note to practice socializing and swordplay so that you can be less embarrassing.
[X]"Thank you, but I think I'd prefer the guns."
[X]You make a mental note to practice socializing and swordplay so that you can be less embarrassing.
[X]"Thank you, but I think I'd prefer the guns."
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