https://files.catbox.moe/fb9rgr.mp3You swallowed hard and nodded, your gaze skittering towards the monstrous figures closing in. The Demon King’s guard dogs were embellished with twisted marble horns, sharply tapered ears, and snouts etched with wrinkles, and weathered crevices filled with white moss.Count Whiskers hissed in fear, the gargoyle silhouettes appearing in and then engulfing whole his wide cerulean eyes. You rocked in Miranna’s one-hand-grip, watching as she spread her wings wide and swooped towards granite beasts. Her scorching nails tore through the bewitched stone, sinking within and pushing the scarlet light out of every of its cracks. Her claws carved through the stone chest and neck, scooping out and hurling chunks of vermilion rubble into the air as if casting aside molten embers, as well as the beast itself. With a wild cackle, she plunged downwards, creating distance between herself and the two stone monsters.You hesitantly shifted one hand from Whisker’s fur to slowly grip Miranna just above her waist. She snapped her head, but before you could retract your hand, she grasped it, pressed on it, urging you to hold tighter. The clouds melted away, bursting and vanishing into a shimmering silver-gilt mist as you soared and broke through them.“You might need to hold on tighter,” Miranna said, fleeting smirk crossing her face as another gargoyle appeared behind her.“You said their only interest are humans? They we have to make them think I’m not one!”“That -would- make things easier, but how are you going to do that?”“You don’t know?”She shrugged mid-flight, her expression one of nonchalant apology. Damn. Maybe? Your squeezed your eyes, hoping for a miracle solution.After a moment of tense silence, broken only by the whoosh of Miranna's wings and the distant crumbling of stone, you reopened your eyes, the wind trashing your hair, to find a granite monster snapping at Miranna’s heels."I thought maybe if they couldn’t see my eyes... but no luck,” you said, awkwardly.Brandishing her claw, the flames licking the air, she said. “Don’t sweat it, hero. I’ll aim for their wings, let’s see—”Your fingers slipped from Miranna’s plated waist as stone hands seized your legs, pulling you backwards. You clutched to hold Count Whisker with one hand, the cat burying its head in your sleeve and digging its claws into your arms; Miranna’s black wings slammed against the air, beating frantically, coming to an abrupt halt, with crack of her wing-bones and feathers scattering like splintered wood. Like irons, the stalwart’s hands gripped your ankles, pulling you up towards it.
Miranna caught your free hand, her faltered wings smashing against the slow wind to keep herself aloft. She had the strength, but so did the gargoyle, stretching you between them like a torture rack, the void yawning below you. You cried, feeling your joints stretch painfully with each tug. You glanced at Miranna, wondering if she even realised how feeble your body were. From below, thought a shroud of slate-coloured clouds, the damage beast returned to join the other; at a distance.> Try to hit back at the stone beast’s head with your feet to wriggle free: slip off those cherished clogs.> Tell Miranna to let go of your hand, unless the rips it off. Deal with the gargoyle until she has the time to.> Yell at Miranna to give herself a bleeding wound and then mark you with it … you’re out of ideas here, damn it!> Pretend to be unconscious, maybe dead. What are the stone beasts even suppose to do about the caught humans?> [Write In]
> UPDATES?Once a day.> PREVIOUS THREADS?https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=TPNMSTDGBHK> MUSICAL SUMMARY OF THE PREVIOUS THREADS?https://files.catbox.moe/71bjdm.MP3> OTHER QUESTS?https://pastebin.com/raw/YJ2k1TuN
>>6037057> Yell at Miranna to give herself a bleeding wound and then mark you with it … you’re out of ideas here, damn it!
>>6037057>Try to hit back at the stone beast’s head with your feet to wriggle free: slip off those cherished clogs.I can't lock onto the tone of this quest. The premise is naturally comedic, but the writing so far seems not at all.
>>6037057>> Yell at Miranna to give herself a bleeding wound and then mark you with it … you’re out of ideas here, damn it!>>6037160Personally, I think the quest has a large potential for a "failing upwards simulator" experience. Where instead of winning the way Miranna expects we fulfill the prophecy and become the king, we do so through obscure bullshit circumstances and logical thinking rather than any form of bodily strength.
>>6037057>Try to hit back at the stone beast’s head with your feet to wriggle free: slip off those cherished clogs.
>>6037077>>6037160>>6037257>>6037268>>6037933https://files.catbox.moe/soakaj.mp3You squirmed, and thankfully Miranna -had- noticed your discomfort. She fanned her wings, closing the distance between her and the stone fiend in flight, easing the strain on your body. She slashed the air with her blazing hand, but couldn’t quite skewer the gargoyle dog, resulting in a precarious mid-air tussle between you, Miranna, and the beast. You jerked your legs, your clogs slamming against its granite head.The beast’s fissured hands skidded off your ankles, its thick fingers clinging to your cherished footwear. In the clouds, a memory flashed of when they were given to you by girl, the lass you had something with despite the gap in age—her being a decade older. Well, not exactly: she didn’t give you the actual clogs, those were worked on by the cobbler. What she gave you as a present was a log of wood … but she was so excited and happy for you to have it!She was a strange one. What was her name again?Hang on, was your life already flashing before your eyes? No, no, no, back off!You bashed the clogs against the sentinel’s grip, twisting your feet until they slid out of the wooden shoes. Pop, they came loose, and you were tossed back towards Miranna. Your held onto Whiskers, grasping the she-demon’s hand with your fingertips. Again, your arm was yanked as she lifted you, all this pirouetting making the scenery blur into a dizzying whirl. Miranna didn’t seem panicked; you couldn’t quite see.The wood crunched and broke in the creature’s claws. You couldn’t see it, but a single melancholic tear rolled down your cheek regardless. You were going to miss them those clogs and the wood they were made out of. More tears swelled up, not from sadness but from the altitude, mingling with the cold. The stone wings cracked loudly in your ears. Why couldn’t those wings just break entirely already, damn it!“They are both going right at you,” Miranna yelled, juggling between lifting you up and keeping her wings steady.“I’ll get crushed like a wine grape!”“Or a herbarium insect!” she added her own metaphor, proudly.> Throw Count Whiskers at Miranna and tell her to keep him safe. Let go once they are close to fall and to try and have them smash at one another.> Yell at Miranna to toss you at one of them so you can grab it around its gargoyle head, and then let her deal with the other one without you being in the way.> Apologetically bite at Miranna’s hand holding you in the air to draw her blood and cover yourself with it. Gross. Would that be enough? Would that even work?> Start desperately rubbing your face against Count Whisker’s fur. Maybe possibly they’ll mistake you for a cat?> [Write In]
>>6037160I'd like it to be half-comedic half-serious, but my quest have been about 10% comedic before, so I'm getting used to it. It can go whichever direction, let's find out.>>6037257That's right, bullshit your way to the top! Use them as pawns! Backstab the nonbelievers! Wait, you are a nonbeliever. Well, that complicates things.>>6031436Had problems, but I think I figured out the correct prompt. Look at her cute face!
>>6038094>> Apologetically bite at Miranna’s hand holding you in the air to draw her blood and cover yourself with it. Gross. Would that be enough? Would that even work?Hot.
>>6038103Dang, she is cute.>>6038094> Apologetically bite at Miranna’s hand holding you in the air to draw her blood and cover yourself with it. Gross. Would that be enough? Would that even work?
>>6038094>Throw Count Whiskers at Miranna and tell her to keep him safe. Let go once they are close to fall and to try and have them smash at one another.
>>6038094>Start desperately rubbing your face against Count Whisker’s fur. Maybe possibly they’ll mistake you for a cat?
>>6038094> Apologetically bite at Miranna’s hand holding you in the air to draw her blood and cover yourself with it. Gross. Would that be enough? Would that even work?
>>6038094>Throw Count Whiskers at Miranna and tell her to keep him safe. Let go once they are close to fall and to try and have them smash at one another.I dont like the idea of exsanguinating the one keeping us from plummeting to our death
>>6038201>>6038215>>6038269>>6038271>>6038549>>6038562https://files.catbox.moe/n0ea02.mp3“Think you can yank me away before that happens?”“For sure!” Miranna replied, her voice brimming with confidence.Overconfidence. You had doubts that she could: avoiding both seemed impossible, and they would just pivot and pursue. You heaved yourself yourself up, bringing her hand level with your chin. They were statues, but they also looked like dogs.“I’m going to bite you!” you warned.She looked at you, her irises churning like flames as she nodded in affirmation.You sank your teeth into her hand, drawing her demon blood and immediately spitting it out. Glowing like lava, with warmth and surprising awful zest, it spurted off her claws and splashed onto your face. You winced, and so did Miranna, letting more of her blood fall on you. A moment later, the stone demons drew closer, lowering their heads like battering rams. What an awful idea this was! You squeezed your eyes shut, not even sure who to pray for. Just as they gargoyle dogs neared to crush you between their marble forms—at the last possible moment—they trashed their marble wings and veered away, taking flight further elsewhere.The wind gathered in the pummel of their departure, the sharp gale crashing at you from both sides. The violet tempest buffeted Miranna’s feathers, trashing her form about. Her talons scratched your hand, an unintended payback, before her grip loosened. You fell, your back skimming the wispy clouds as if through mist. The beasts had abandoned their pursuit, but Miranna’s silhouette was disappearing just as fast. She did not give you a moment to reflect on your life a second time, swooping in like a downpour, curving her arms to seize you. You elbows smacked against her iron breastplate, the force of the impact cradling you in like a worm.“Got you!” she said, flashing a grin, more of her scorching blood staining your clothes. “Careful, don’t get it in your mouth.”“Don’t tell me … it’s poisonous to humans?” you spat, the blood charring your tongue like an awful spice.She winced, her freckles sparkling like embers. “No, I just don’t want you to see that I, Nettle Harpy, bleed!”> Nonchalantly tell Miranna that you don’t mind seeing her bleed. It’s cool, in fact; she shouldn’t worry.> Apologise for biting her without much warning, and hug her as a thank you for catching you from falling.> Thank her for catching you, verbally. After a while, lift Whiskers to kiss her in your stead.> Give her a promise that none of this happened, you don’t recall, and you don’t remember that you bit her. > [Write In]
> Nonchalantly tell Miranna that you don’t mind seeing her bleed. It’s cool, in fact; she shouldn’t worry.
>>6038982>Nonchalantly tell Miranna that you don’t mind seeing her bleed. It’s cool, in fact; she shouldn’t worry.
>>6038988>>6039056>+1
>>6038982> Give her a promise that none of this happened, you don’t recall, and you don’t remember that you bit her.
>>6038982>Thank her for catching you, verbally. After a while, lift Whiskers to kiss her in your stead.
>>6038982>Nonchalantly tell Miranna that you don’t mind seeing her bleed. It’s cool, in fact; she shouldn’t worry.>Apologise for biting her without much warning, and hug her as a thank you for catching you from falling.Don't you look good in red? And I want a secure grip to not fall again. That's definitely why.
>>6038982>Apologise for biting her without much warningGolden rule. Idk about hugging strangers, but then again I'm not sure if Miranna is a stranger at this point.
>>6038982> Nonchalantly tell Miranna that you don’t mind seeing her bleed. It’s cool, in fact; she shouldn’t worry.
>>6038988>>6039056>>6039060>>6039169>>6039170>>6039253>>6039740>>6039878https://files.catbox.moe/6dfb1b.mp3“Too late for that,” you said, lifting your hand to secure a grip around her neck, and no more.She clicked her tongue against her teeth, looking down as you continued,“It would be better if you avoid getting stabbed, sure, but if it happens, worry about the injury itself.”“But I am the strongest Demon General, even-thought-I-quit, hero!” she whined. “I can’t just … spill my blood!”“I’m telling you, it’s fine.” You checked on Whiskers’ health. “I needed that blood to mask my scent” —even thought you weren’t sure if it would even work. You took a quick look at the bite mark, and you reckoned she wasn’t expecting an apology. “It’s impressive, in a way, the way your blood looks and embers. It also … compliments your red-eyed gaze, kind of. In a way. Yeah.”She squinted. “Really?” — she lingered, humming— “But the demons who bleed are -weak-!”“That ‘Chimera Hound’, you said she never bleeds, either? So you two are infamous for the same exact thing?”She looked ahead, pondering “No, not really. Every Demon General, and many demons, regard being cut as shameful.”“Oh I didn’t—““Well, it’s fine if it’s the hero!” she said, her words as nonchalant as her honest smile. “You … were saying?”You cleared your throat. “Were you to be covered in that lava-like blood as well as your fire, that would be anything but shameful. I think you'd appear quite impressive.”“You’re saying I should get cut on purpose so I’ll look even more frightening and overwhelming to my enemies?”You shook your head, faster than your neck could handle, echoing an innocent crack.“No. Don’t get injured intentionally; but don’t worry if you do. If you embrace it, you’ll be like an infernal fury to those who’ll want to fight you. Isn’t that more fearsome?”Harrumphing, Miranna tucked her hand to rub her blood against your cheek.“You know, hero, maybe you’ve overreacted. You didn’t need my blood, neither to trick the stalwarts.” She grabbed your shirt before you could answer. “You had weathered and survived Dragon-Beast’s might, even if those stone vanguards had dared to slam into you, you wouldn’t even feel it!” Miranna neared her head, her nose too small to touch your face.“Or is there another trick to how you stayed alive after battling Pyrathor?”You leaned back, an inch of distance becoming a foot gap. She weren’t going to listen to the truth, so were you going to have to lie? Mercifully, into the distance where the gargoyles had dissolved, manifested a diversion: the Demon King’s Banefroth Citadel. Distracted by it, Miranna fanned out her wings and lifted you both to further loft.
Perched amongst the jagged crests impended a behemoth structure, a fortress of sprawling spires and steep edged walls, each stone black and melting into the next, yet somehow retaining a distinct contour. As namesake said, the air beneath the foundation seemed to simmer with invisible affliction, drawing out comfort and the warm colours. The dark granite walls submerged into the surrounding rock, towering labyrinthine battlements jutting out a irregular intervals, the twisted crenellations gnawing on the sky like termites. A mountain range on its own, it stood, the towers disappearing within the roiled ebony clouds above them. Hundreds of stained obsidian windows gleamed with a spectrum of subdued lights—deep purples, crimsons, and greys. Suspended bridges and narrow roads spanned the yawning chasms and darkness-consumed artery corridors; scores of demon shadows, both large and small, moving along the edge.A sweat rolled down your forehead. Maybe this was all a big mistake.“We can start with at my tower, but it’s pretty high and far from everything else,” Miranna chirped, unbothered. “Or we break somewhere near the prisons, if you think the ‘Grub Hag’ will be there. Or to Demon King’s throne room?”“What?!”“He’ll be anywhere but there!” she said. “If you’d like to defeat him straight away, we can wait there for him!”> Miranna’s bedroom.> The prison adjacent hallways.> The throne chamber.> [Write In]
>>6039253>Don't you look good in red? And I want a secure grip to not fall again. That's definitely why.Red is a girly colour, pfeh. >>6039740She's a very clingy stranger. The worst kind.
>>6039986> The prison adjacent hallways.
>>6039986>> The prison adjacent hallways.
>>6039986> Miranna’s bedroom.Could help us get a bette ridea who and what we're working with, here.
>>6039986> Miranna’s bedroom.I want to see if she has girly shit there.
>>6039986>The prison adjacent hallways.
>>6039986Slay your devils, kill 'em allTake your throne, paint the wallsAnd if you make it out aliveHold that bloody head up high>Miranna’s bedroom.I imagine this will be lightly guarded, and Miranna will be expected to be around. Secondary objective is to rifle through her stuff for anything useful (or funny). We're not going to get to come back here, so I recommend her packing some panties. I wonder what colour they are.>>6040003Clingy is good when you're thousands of feet in the air, at any rate
>>6039986>Miranna’s bedroom.Destroy this general's entire sense of self-esteem
>>6038094>Throw count Whiskers then fall so they collide
No update today, apologies.
>>6040681All well, I hope?
>>6040685Yes, no QM quest hit me so far.
>>6040007>>6040015>>6040022>>6040074>>6040081>>6040149>>6040258>>6040420https://files.catbox.moe/bhjdt7.mp3You shook your head; no, that was the last thing you wanted to happen today.“Let’s start at your tower, and we’ll figure it out from there,” you said.She flashed a grin and gave a firm nod, tightening her grip and lifting you towards the roiling ebony clouds swelling against her wings. The clouds parted to reveal the fortress’ tallest spire, a dark lance impaling the sky. She flew above the citadel’s expanse, the labyrinthine compounds and storm-battered stones obscured by the perpetual grey squall, save for where the Nettle Harpy’s tower sliced through. The tower maintained a consistent width, expanding only at its summit into a cage-like frame. Miranna circled the smooth granite rooftop, many of the gables sporadically interspersed with glass panes. Upon landing on the ledge, she stretched her neck, gently lowering you onto the tepid stone. You peered below from the wrought iron fence, the balcony jutting over the abyssal skies. Yet here, the wind was soft, and the sun’s warm was palpable.You’d lived your entire life without seeing the sun, and yet, within the last hour you had drawn nearer to it than any bird.Pushing open the massive, glazed doors, Miranna welcomed you into her chamber’s private gloom. She slammed shut the doors behind you, Count Whiskers jolting and snarling in response, writhing from your arms and leaping away.“Wait—!” you yelled, but the cat’s silhouette vanished. Why was it so dark? “Don’t tell me that you live like this?”The sun shone through the glass-panelled gables, filtering through them a meagre glow.“I’m not a vampire, hero,” she said in sing-song, whispering voice. Miranna ignited her claws, the incandescent glow bouncing off the walls before the flames trailed off her nails and onto the lantern candles, casting a crucial light to illuminate the room. You could see the room, and you couldn’t deny your curiosity to see how it looked inside. Yet, as you turned to explore, there was a rustle of wings followed by a metallic flash. Miranna stepped in, her claw flicking upwards, sparks flying and metal chiming inches from your face. A tiny metal bird darted about, its polished beak gleaming.“What is that?!” you said.Miranna waved her hand, her attention shifting from the bird. “Something to keep me on my toes, hero.”The steel construction swooped again, brandishing its blade-like beak at the she-demon. She parried it.You covered your neck, to where it went for initially. “Can you make it stop?”“No,” she said. “Not without breaking it. And they are difficult to replace.”“Then how do you sleep?”
Sparks flew as she deflected another aggressive stoop. “I clutch it in my hands when I want to,” she explained. “As it’s trying to escape, it also sharpens my talons. Clever, don’t you think?”> Pathetically ask if she can cradle the bird in her hands for the duration of your stay in her room.> Hurry out of Miranna’s room so you don’t have to put yourself at risk of being skewered by the bird.> Try and ignore the bird, trusting Miranna to safeguard both of you. Explore Nettle Harpy’s chamber.> [Write In]
>>6041313> Try and ignore the bird, trusting Miranna to safeguard both of you. Explore Nettle Harpy’s chamber.
>>6041315>[Write In]If it won't help me cast down the demon king, it is a demonic toy that has no use to me. Destroy it, or if it is something special to you, make sure it doesn't hinder me.
Getting ourselves into a girl's room hours after meeting her? Impressive!>>6040149Miranna is unironically expecting you to do all that.Yes, I would take a clingy harpy over a noncling one.>>6040258It doesn't seem she minds! >>6040687Curse, I meant curse, not quest.
>>6041315> Pathetically ask if she can cradle the bird in her hands for the duration of your stay in her room.We can try to sound slightly less pathetic, though, if we just tell her it's distracting us from planning.
>>6041315>Try and ignore the bird, trusting Miranna to safeguard both of you. Explore Nettle Harpy’s chamber.I imagine she's spent years in here with this lil shit and has gotten very good at shutting down its bullshit and can let us rummage through her panty drawer without interruption.Random thought, what if the prophetic scribes had a bit of trouble with linguistic gender and we're not actually the "chosen" hero but the sidekick to the heroine while we push and manipulate her into being the real hero?
>>6041482Of course she doesn't mind yet, we are distracted by her violent toy. As soon as find the pantsu and diaries however...
My father is stealing me for a holiday so there won't be an update today. Vote is still open.
>>6041313> Try and ignore the bird, trusting Miranna to safeguard both of you. Explore Nettle Harpy’s chamber.>Random thought, what if the prophetic scribes had a bit of trouble with linguistic gender and we're not actually the "chosen" hero but the sidekick to the heroine while we push and manipulate her into being the real hero?Would be funny. You could even say we ARE the Hero just in pushing Mirrana towards not being evil.
>>6041755>>6042396Forgot to link to the damn post I was quoting.
>>6041369>>6041374>>6041512>>6041755>>6041782>>6042396>>6042397https://files.catbox.moe/fvxbbx.mp3 Your irises quivered, watching the metallic fowl buzz and whirl across the chamber’s ceiling like a rogue wasp. You faced away, the beating of metal wings and clash of Miranna’s talons clanging in your ears. Taking a deep breath, and having faith in Miranna to keep her toy in control, you decided to explore the Nettle Harpy’s room. For what reasons? Perhaps, to uncover something useful, glean insights about her, or simply to sate curiosity.Reflecting in the magical fire there was a vast, open chamber with walls of dark stone enclosing an unclaimed expanse. No layers of lofts obstructed the space. Somewhere up there, at the very top, suspended a chain wave hammock, seeming uncomfortable it not for the plush velvet throw and plethora of pillows laying on it.The relentless bird scattered sparks across the floor, singeing your now-bare feet. You yelped, stumbling and sliding on the uncarpeted, neglected floor—it seeming untouched by Miranna’s, or any, footfall. Crash! You slammed into solid wood, a large curved wardrobe trembling from your fall. The closet warped, the doors bulging and then bursting loose, hurling you to the dusty floor as armour of all shapes, types, and sizes cascaded from within, engulfing you like a flood. You gasped for air, clawing your way out.The clangour ceased as the avalanche of cast-off ill-fit armour weighted down upon you. You front stroked through the layers of plate and chainmail, dipping out of the mass of metal articles with a clenched fist. Unfolding your hand, you spotted a pair of female braies you were clutching at before, loose linen trousers with an over-tangled drawstring.Could it be Miranna’s? Before you could even ponder the question aloud, the metal bird skirted past Miranna and whirled at you! Miranna trashed her wings, the dust kicking up in all directions, but even as she swooped in, the time wasn’t there …And did you really plan for her to see you her undergarments? > Pull out a random piece of armour from the pile to protect yourself.> Throw the braies at the metal bird.> Duck back into the pile and let Miranna handle the bird. Do you want to let put the braies back into the pile or keep to them?> [Write In]
Sorry for the silence. I'm back now.>>6041512'Please protect me Miranna!' he said, non-pathetically. >>6041755Perhaps you'll be able to find out when you find her!>>6041782>diariesAt best, it'll be a sketchbook.
>>6043803> Pull out a random piece of armour from the pile to protect yourself.Fuck you bird!
>>6043803>Throw the braies at the metal bird.
>>6043803>Throw the braies at the metal bird.I cast Entangle!
>>6043803>Duck back into the pile and let Miranna handle the bird.What else has she got in here I wonder?
>>6043803>Throw the braies at the metal bird.THROW THE PANTSU>>6041782Anon, she's illiterate. She couldn't keep a diary even if she wanted to. Holding a pencil would be awful in those claws too.
>>6044274Maybe she keeps a book of charcoal doodles? Kek.
>>6044281
>>6043941>>6043956>>6043981>>6044238>>6044274>>6044281>>6044290https://files.catbox.moe/0mttxf.mp3The bird was coming at you quick, not leaving you much time to pick at anything of protective worth. You crumpled the linen underwear and, as your your reflection glinted off the avian’s beak, you hurled the cloth towards it.The textile wrapped around its span, bladed wings briskly slicing through the threads, shredding the garment into scattered tatters, barely slowing it for a moment. Your hands lifted for defence.An continues whirring hummed as the beak’s sharp end trembling before your knuckles. Miranna’s claw had seized the bird before it could spear through you, clutching it tightly with her talons. Her fingers clanged from inside, the fowl scraping and grinding against her nails. As she landed on the pile, the armour sinking at her weight, she let out a gasp. Behind her, the torn remnants of her underwear finally landed on the ground.“Sorry—“Miranna pushed forward, her spaulder nudging you aside. She seized a large slate helm with a hinged visor.Your gaze shifted from the destroyed braies to the helmet, watching as Miranna broke into sweat.“It’s not mine!” she yelped, the nails of her free hand digging into the metal. The bird continued to fight against the confinement of her grasp. Her vivid irises shrunk; she tossed the helmet aside and grabbed a single piece of leggings instead.“Those leggings that were too tight on the hips? Not mine,” she said. “And those itchy braces? I know better to use them!”“So nothing in here is yours, is what you’re saying?”“That’s correct, just armour of other demons’,” she said, perching her chin, her neck trembling with each word.> Go along with her excuses, leaving the armour behind to explore Miranna’s chamber further.> If she says so, then there’s no reason she would mind you picking bits to dress up as a demon.> Insist. Why would she be embarrassed about all this armour? Ask her to explain herself to you.> [Write In]
If only for a moment, you held her undergarments.>>6044238Nothing personal, or so she says.>>6044274Good point about the claws. How are you going to handhold?!>why no images?Sorry, I have limited generations and I've been trying to get a good consistent style, but the generator struggles.
>>6044661>If she says so, then there’s no reason she would mind you picking bits to dress up as a demon.
>>6044661> If she says so, then there’s no reason she would mind you picking bits to dress up as a demon.We DO need a disguise.
>>6044661Sure, Mira. You definitely know how these things you've never worn fit on you.>If she says so, then there’s no reason she would mind you picking bits to dress up as a demon.But we still have to tease the demon a bit anyway too>>6044680>How are you going to handhold?!Very carefully and either us holding the back of her hand or palm-in-palm 90 degrees apart. Or we have a go with a file first.
>>6044661> Insist. Why would she be embarrassed about all this armour? Ask her to explain herself to you.>>6044680>How are you going to handhold?!Carefully, but it should be fine. I don't know about you all, but I don't jam my nails into the person I am holding hands with. More concerned about talons on her feet. One bad dream and her foot kicking out, and we are going to need stitches. And new sheets.
>>6044687>>6044925>>6044970>>6045065>>6045191https://files.catbox.moe/le70h9.mp3“Not yours, so you claim,” you uttered.She bobbed and nodded her head, causing the wings-turned-scarf to rustle against her freckled neck.Lifting a patined greave by its gnawed strap, you stared at Miranna for a silent moment. Never had you worn real armour, especially not armour forged for demonkind. Even an imp would look more impressive in it.You shook your head; why was looking presentable important? A disguise would be useful, and here it was, what luck!“Then you wouldn’t mind me picking parts of it for myself? Then I won’t have to worry about being caught.”Miranna’s clenched teeth hissed as she drew breath. “But they are uncomfortable, itchy, and outright dowdy, hero!”You lifted one foot off the sharp plates, searching for something to cover your legs—sabatons. You spotted a mismatched pair: one weathered and battered, the other nearly pristine, with a reinforced leather base. Struggling with the buckles and belts, you manged to secure and tighten them in only a minute, exhaling with relief.Gesturing at your newly fitted armour, you inquired, “How does it look?”“Just as bad as before,” she said. “You shouldn’t be wearing any of this, hero. There is an armoury here in the citadel.”You waved her off. “I’ll be only wearing this to conceal myself.” You smelled no odours, but perhaps you could hope for some lingering scent of Miranna’s to be embedded in the armour, enough to fool creatures like gargoyles.The bird persisted beating and scraping her talons—Miranna gripped it firmer to keep it from drowning out her voice.“If you -truly- insist, hero” she said, her cheeks turning a pout. She stepped closer, her taloned feet splintering one of the breastplates underneath. With her darkened figure looming over you, her head tilting languidly and her crimson eyes searching, she reached out as if to grab you, but instead diverting to snatch a scuffed helm: slate scales protruding along its sides of the skull, with narrow, deep eye slits set in the thick ebony steel.She hoisted it and slapped it onto your head, the chamber, already dim, plunging further into shadow and obscurity.“I’ll pick you the best of the worst, then!” she said, her crooked smile barely visible through the visor.That hurt! You toppled onto the pile, Miranna neither noticing nor caring, leaping forth to find the next thing.“Are you going to dress me up?” you protested, rubbing inches above your rear. “I can take of it myself, thank you.”She flung aside a pauldron, a gauntlet, and a vambrace, one after the another. “I know that— I have a better eye for this.”You sat there like a puppet, Miranna whirling and tumbling around you, fitting and cinching the armoured attire. In mere minutes, she grabbed you by the elbow, the weight pulling at your muscles. Maybe this was a mistake.
She clapped her clawed palm against the fist still gripping the bird, looking satisfied. Your reflection shimmered on the helmet’s polished crown, each piece of the bulky demon armour mismatched, yet still ominous—perhaps even more.It was difficult to see.You reached up to lift the helm, gasping for air as the edges nicked at your hair.Miranna slapped the helmet. “None of them are, I mean seem, comfortable, right? That’s why I don’t wear one.”You sucked in air; indeed, the helmet promised to be a nuisance: particularly the one she picked for you. You surveyed over the piles of helmets, some showing sights of wear while others did not: several having—the better—adjustable visors.> Decide to go without a helmet, the same way as Miranna. You’ll just have to pretend to be a hornless demon.> Stick with the helm that Miranna had picked for you, with the narrow slit design and uncomfortably deep visor.> Put away the helmet that Miranna chose for you, and instead take one of more comfortable design.> [Write In]
>>6046230>Put away the helmet that Miranna chose for you, and instead take one of more comfortable design.
>>6046230> Stick with the helm that Miranna had picked for you, with the narrow slit design and uncomfortably deep visor.Don't want to offend our friend/waifu/partner/delusional kidnapper, and she said she knows best with these things. What do we know about demonic fashion?
>>6046230> Stick with the helm that Miranna had picked for you, with the narrow slit design and uncomfortably deep visor.Not like our vision is particularly good anyway
>>6046230>Stick with the helm that Miranna had picked for you, with the narrow slit design and uncomfortably deep visor.Helmets are good for keeping brains in, and we're not here to sightsee, just get some sense out of the grub hag.
>>6046230> Stick with the helm that Miranna had picked for you, with the narrow slit design and uncomfortably deep visor.>Try out our best "I am 100% a demon, respect and fear me" voice to make sure the helm has good acoustics.
>>6046325>>6046369>>6046383>>6046771>>6046940https://files.catbox.moe/rqxfh4.mp3You shifted the helmet in your hands, weighting the pros and cons of keeping it atop your head. It could conceal your pallid face, protect your skull in potential skirmishes, give you a hint of Miranna’s demon scent, and perhaps …You harrumphed. “Believe me, I am a demon!” —your voice boomed through the slits— “So fear and respect me!”Miranna leaned back her head and flashed a wide grin. “Should you wish rule as a Demon King, then it is perfect!”You squinted, trying to get used to the thick lines obstructing half your vision. “I told you, that’s not the plan.”Barely furrowing her brows, Miranna assisted your down the cluttered uneven pile of plate and steel, setting you down on the paving stones, the bluish-grey layer of dust covering the floor like a snow. She swung the bird at your face.“The protectiveness of the armour wasn’t the issue with it, but we could always test it out just in case.”“No, it’s fine,” you said. You had no intent to battle in it; by other king’s throne, you could hardly move in it.Miranna shrugged, loosening her grip on your shoulder. You repositioned the helm—wedged on your head like a knight astride a mule—to catch a glimpse at the rest of her quarters. The cascading shadows of the visor plunged the lantern-lit chamber into further darkness. There, against the black queried walls, hung a moth-bleached tapestry, brocading glistening threads depicting winged demons in a variety of outlandish stances. On the opposite side stood a faded reddish table, charred as if to fit the room’s curved design. A stack of golden—or gilded—wreaths were piled on a vertical stand, beside a bowl filled with river-worn stones, each marked with unique bluish circular patterns. It was hard to spot anything else—if there even was indeed anything more to see. Her room stood sparse, stark, even more barren than your own—and you couldn’t afford anything! > Ask Miranna about the tapestry.> Ask Miranna about the golden wreaths.> Ask Miranna about the pattern-present stones.> [Write In]
>>6046369>What do we know about demonic fashion?Zilch. >Not like our vision is particularly good anywayHey, you need good eyes to see them plant-eating-slugs.>>6046771Indeed, we are not here to sightseen. Anyway, which of Miranna's personal belongings do you want to sightsee?
>>6047020> Ask Miranna about everythingI don't see why not
>>6047046Please pick one. For reasons.
>>6047048Boo>>6047020>Ask Miranna about the pattern-present stones.
>>6047020> Ask Miranna about the pattern-present stones.
>>6047020>Ask Miranna about the golden wreaths.
>>6047020> Ask Miranna about the tapestry.
>>6047020>Ask Miranna which demon is a close enough friend to lend her so much armor and underwear
>>6047579>>6047327>>6047322>>6047084>>6047064>>6047046“Whence this armour even came from?” you asked, drawing near the table. “From here and there,” she said with a short shrug. “From battles, from the smithy’s forge, from the Demon King.”You hesitated. “And the underwear?”“Peculiar things you are curious about, hero,” she said, her voice steady. “From long ago, I can’t recall where it’s from.”You wanted to question her about each oddity, but the small stones had piqued your interest the most.“Are those magical?” you asked, scooping a crudely shaped stone from the earthen bowl.Miranna’s arm darted out, picking a different, yet similar rough rock. She briskly scuffed the stone surface.“In a way, hero! Those are superb,” she exclaimed, excitement in her voice. “Here, circle your finger around like this.”You mimicked her motion, tracing your thumb against the embedded continuous spiral, the trace lighting up with a glowing azure dust; cool yet vivid. You kept going; were you about to unleash a magic spell?As your finger reached the centre, the ethereal shimmer intensified, the spiral's light beaming like an enchanted beacon. You held it aloft, at an arm’s length, while Miranna semi-clutched her fists and leaned in in anticipation.https://files.catbox.moe/793gtb.mp3The stone trembled in your hand, a growing thrum emanating from its core, through its pitted grain, soon escalating to a loud intricate melody. The sound filled the masonry gaps, then echoed off them. Enchanted instruments filled the air.Miranna bopped her head in tune, her dishevelled white hair tousling, the stone in her hand left unlit, as if not to intervene with the melody unfurling from yours.Distant flutes, violins and horns unleashed bold crescendos, strings straining against the steady breaths. Relentless drumming conjured visions of an unseen battle, the cadence shifting and skimming across the chamber’s span with overwhelming crescendoing thrills. One by one, the sounds had ebbed, and the stone’s light waned.She gave you another stone. “Try this one,” she urged, her lips’ edges chapping. “It’s even better!”The room’s wooden door was struck with a series of knocks, followed by a soft squishy voice.“Nettle Harpy, General.” Called the voice from the other side “The Demon King asks your presence.” Damn, had they heard the stone’s song? Of course she heard the stone, it came out as loud as a dragon’s bellow!“Is the door locked?”“No, shouldn’t be. I’ve lost the key … ages ago!”> Tell Miranna not to answer back, and as soon as the demon walks away, sneak out.> Have Miranna answer the door, and promise to the demon that she’ll be there, or similar.> Ask for Miranna to sneak out through the balcony, and try another breach-in spot.> [Write In]
>>6047650>> Have Miranna answer the door, and promise to the demon that she’ll be there, or similar.
>>6047650> Have Miranna answer the door, and promise to the demon that she’ll be there, or similar.
>>6047650>Have Miranna answer the door, and promise to the demon that she’ll be there, or similar.
>She has battle music record rocks.Yes she does!
>>6047860>Bird Bish brings here own boss fight music when she goes out to fight.I love our bird-brained partner in crime.>>6047650> Have Miranna answer the door, and promise to the demon that she’ll be there, or similar.Also... why do I have a feeling the Demon Lord is just going to be the last human who got shanghai'd? That the entire line of demon kings has been human because demons a silly?
>>6047650>Have Miranna answer the door, and promise to the demon that she’ll be there, or similar.We can interrogate the grub hag ourselves, Miranna must throw the Demon King off the idea she has betrayed him
