Nemesis Quest follows someone you should not idolize. Demons are real and closer than you'd think. You should know.

Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=NEMESIS+Quest

I aim to update on weekdays around 4:00 PM UTC. I will update more often if there's a clear consensus or I have the time.

XXX

POWERS

>What Doesn't Kill You (Sally)
Serious wounds don't stop you.

>Make Them Disappear (Mall Hobo)
You leave no forensics.

>Behind the Veil (Lasker City Hooker)
See the Veil.

>You Should be Dancing (Rupert)
The power of suggestion.

>Speak of the Devil (Valerie Hedgepeth)
Appear where they least expect.

>Make them forget (Valerie's Daughter)
You are hard to identify.

>The Sacred Form (Nathan Harper)
A transformation, powerful and deadly. Needs to be fed.

So, what have we missed? Well, let's say a couple months. You've fallen into a steady routine, building a cult, carrying out the will of your patron deity, sometimes two. The Lake Cult and the Woods Cult stand at odds, with you stretched between them like the saliva connecting your sister's lips to you.

"Are you close yet?" Candi asks from your lap, annoyed, breathing hard.

"Almost," you say.

She sighs and puts her head back down. That's better.

Right now you're in one of your favorite places—the driver's seat of your black AMC Eagle—doing one of your favorite things—spending time with your sister, Candi Mercer. And, cherry on top, you're looking at a house. The house of a dead man.

Jeff's house.

You grunt in satisfaction which is only partly thanks to your sister's skilled efforts. You've been waiting for this moment a long time. It's time to bring a little retribution to Chip's friends, the assholes who made your life such a nightmare in high school. Jeff is first, the weak link, he one you think will be missed the least. The one with a foot already in the grave.

His house is quiet, unassuming, one of a hundred like it in the outer suburbs of Roselake. He lives alone and the street lamps only show his car here.

You tense up, eyes closing. You tighten your grip on Candi's hair. She knows all the signs and redoubles her efforts. She likes feeling powerful, and you suppose this is one way she can do that. As always, you try not to think about where the hell she learned to do this so well. A wave of pleasure washes over you as you clench your teeth. For a moment your mind is pleasantly blank, free of joys, concerns, and cravings. But only for a moment.

Candi sits up in the passenger seat. She doesn't even cough, just wipes her lips off on the back of her hand. She doesn't exactly look happy, more… satisfied. Her shortish blonde hair is tied back in pig tails which go uncomfortably well with the red, hell-themed cheerleader costume she wears. It's become a tradition now, a tradition you're happy to force her to continue.

Candi catches you looking at her and flashes you a drop dead look. "You wanna kiss me now, Kyle?" She puckers up and leans in.

You do not. You put your palm on her face and push her away. Kissing is something she's finally started doing with you. Still not sure how you feel about that. You keep your attention on Jeff's house, now waiting for strength to return to your legs, your breathing to return to normal.

"I want to swallow some this time," Candi says, voice low.

"You just did."

"Blood you pervert," she retorts. "I want to swallow some blood."

You're not sure where this unnatural craving your sister has came from exactly. In your case, blood is your bread and butter so to speak. It's your beer, wine, champagne, and water all rolled in one. You need it. We both need it. For Candi it seems more like a hobby.

"We'll see," you say, but you want that too. You two are so much alike that way. What a cute couple.

Candi folds her arms, grunting disapproval. "I didn't have to do that just now," she shoots back.

"It was very nice of you."

Candi looks even more annoyed. Doesn't matter, because it's time to go now. "Now," you say, getting out of the car. It's time to kill.

Your sister follows instantly, closing the door much harder than you do. You wince at the reverberating bang of the door slamming. The sharp look you give her is chastisement enough. For now.

The street is deserted, dark. You see no cameras, nothing which might complicate this. Still, no point taking chances. You move up the driveway, keeping as much as you can to the shadows. The side door of the house is unlocked. You push it open and step inside, blood rushing in your ears. People are so trusting.

Jeff's house. His kitchen. Dark. Dirty. You see a handful of plastic bags dusted with an off-white powder. Some empty, some a little less empty. Fentanyl. Looks like the pusher became a user. Classic mistake. You hear a TV playing deeper in the house and press on. Your heart thunders, blood racing excitedly. You look back at your sister. Seeing her wide, doey eyes in the dark and that goddam uniform doesn't help anything. You move deeper into the house, automatically drawing your bootknife. It's the length of your forearm.

>Overdose him, make it look like an accident
>Carve him up, pay him back
>Let your sister do it
>Write in

Fulfilling a sacred oath I made at the start of the quest.

https://rentry.co/ks5hdfh2
Is it a date if it's with your sister? I think we both know the answer to that.

>>6311748
Ayyy welcome back Nemesis my dude

>>Overdose him, make it look like an accident
Carefully cut open one of the bags and we'll give him his last chance to catch that dragon.

Hmmm then I guess a syringe to draw some blood without it looking very obvious that someone else took a bite or cut him open would be perfect. Though maybe we could make it look like he bit off his own tongue in the overdose, if Kyle doesn't mind sucking on this dude's torn up tongue lol. Then from Kyle's mouth to Candi.

>>6311749
Promise fulfilled, nice.

>>6311748
>Overdose him, make it look like an accident
As much as Kyle wants to bathe in this guy's blood, causing him to OD would be best.

>>6311749
Gracias, Annie smut when? I am a selfish anon

>>6311748
>>Overdose him, make it look like an accident

>>6311748
We're so back
>Let your sister do it

>6311801
>6311822
>6311863
>Overdose

Writing


>>6311801
>welcome back
>>6311930
>We're so back

Like we never even left. Thanks for waiting, anons.

>>6311801
>Then from Kyle's mouth to Candi
It's like you don't want to see your sister tonguing a sworn enemy.

>>6311822
>annie smut
When the time is right, my friend. I will uphold my vow.

Over the thunder of your own heartbeat you hear the sounds of a TV deeper in this suburban flophouse. You press a finger to your lips, gesturing your sister to silence. She nods. You carefully pick up a plastic grocery bag and shake a few baggies of fent into it and then twist it close, rattling it around, coating it with dust.

Candi watches curiously, but she'll find out.

You find Jeff in the living room. He's slumped on the couch, Friends is playing on the TV. Re-runs. You open the grocery bag, taking a handle in each hand and approach him quietly, not blinking, barely breathing.

The TV suddenly cuts to static and then a dead, blue screen and a monotone as the signal goes out.

Jeff's eyes open and meet yours. There's a heartbeat of tense silence and then realization dawns on him. Good.

You smile as you slip the fent-dust filled bag over his head and pull it tight around his neck.

He sucks in a panicked, fentanyl-laced breath and then the plastic goes taut over his mouth and nose. He's struggling, but he's dazed, off guard. Grunting, you wrestle him off the couch and onto his knees, maneuvering yourself so you're behind him, suffocating him with the fentbag. Each half-breath he desperately pulls in poisons his body.

His hands claws at you, the familiar burn of animal instinct, someone dying who wants so desperately to live. Sucks to suck. You squeeze tight, muscles bulging, jaw clenched tight.

Candi watches, wide-eyed. She bits her bottom lip, teeth pressed to plush flesh. That should be your teeth. "Fuck," she whispers.

Now is not the time to get distracted. You squeeze tighter again as he starts to seize, convulsing and choking. Finally you judge that he's had enough and let go.

Jeff slumps forward, still alive, though not for much longer. He pulls the bag off his head with shaking hands, looks at you blankly and then throws up across his coffee table.

"Shit," you stay, standing up and stepping back as he heaves again, gasping and coughing hard.

"Are you going to kill him or what?" Candi asks like she wants you to deal with a mouse.

"He's dead," you assure her, watching him crawl a short distance. "Isn't that right, Jeff?" You laugh.

He looks back at you, eyes hazy. He gawps at you. You wonder if he has any inkling about why this is happening. You wonder if he realizes the chain of his lift led to this last, pitiful moment. He collapses on the carpet, lets out a shuddering breath and starts seizing again. A goner.

You ball up the grocery bag and go back to the kitchen. Candi trails you like a lost kitten.

After a little hunting around through his paraphernalia you find a syringe. This one has clear fluid in it. Probably something he shouldn't have right now.

"Kyle? What are you—"

You brush past Candi, return to Jeff, and take his wrist to carefully insert the needle into his arm, aiming for a cord-like vein. You stab and inject slow, feeding the poison into his already dying body. His heart dutifully pumps it through his veins. You wait a couple heartbeats and then draw the plunger back out, sucking blood out of him. Ruby, bright, warm.

Candi watches breathless as you pull the needle out. With a little deft finger work, you unscrew the sharp part, leaving just the plunger full of blood. Then, you look at your sister expectantly.

She stares at you, then slowly sinks to her knees, cupping her hands under her chin, mouth open, tongue out. Oh, she wants it really bad.

You take her by the chin, holding her steady, and squirt Jeff's blood into her waiting mouth.

It rolls across her spooned tongue. You see her wince a little at the taste, but she doesn't pull away. You empty the syringe into your sister's mouth and watch her swallow it all down. Very very interesting stuff.

"Mmmmh," she makes a face and wipes at her lips while you return the needle to the syringe and drop it close to Jeff's shivering body.

"Good?" You ask.

"I want more," she says. "That was just like a little squirt."

"Since when are you so into blood?" you ask.

"Since when are *you*?" she returns.

Stupid question. Obvious answer. "Well that's all I'm taking. Anything else would look suspicious as fuck.

Candi folds her arms over her chest and makes a face. "You're no fun. I thought I was going to ax him up or something! I thought we were going to make this a whole thing."

You consider offering to make "a thing" with her blood, but you're not ready for that yet and Candi probably won't ever be. Too bad.


>We'll go kill someone else. Just for you
>You'll have to take what you can get. The heat is on us no thanks to you.
>Write in

>>6312124
>We'll go kill someone else. Just for you

If we go kill someone else violently it makes this kill look more like an accident

>>6312124
>>You'll have to take what you can get. The heat is on us no thanks to you.

>>6312124
>>You'll have to take what you can get. The heat is on us no thanks to you.

>>6312124
>You'll have to take what you can get. The heat is on us no thanks to you.

>>6312124
>We'll go kill someone else. Just for you
Use the Sacred Form and it's just a wild animal attack. I wonder if we can get more skilled at the Sacred Form could we do partial transformations that don't take such a heavy toll. Claws when we need it, a bit more strength, seeing in the dark a bit better etc.

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40 KB PNG

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IsH1mMncS44
Thread-appropriate pic, and music I think?

>>6312124
>"To everything there is a season sister" you say sagely

>>6312326
>>6312421
>>6312477

Writing

>>6312548
Very appropriate. I think Annie's had a similar experience.

"Yeah well, you'll have to take what you can get," you say, taking a final look around the room, making sure you didn't miss anything. Oh, you almost missed Jeff's last breaths. And… there. Now he's dead, clinically speaking. Euphoria washes over you in an awesome wave.

"Asshole," Candi mutters, following you back into the kitchen. At first you think she means Jeff, who she also has a personal beef with. Takes you a moment to realize she's still talking to you.

"You gotta be patient," you say, unbothered. "There's a time and place for everything."

"Yeah? Except for you. Kyle *always* gets what he wants, doesn't he? Bloodshed or blowjobs." she snarks at you, stepping over Jeff's dead body without a second look. "I wouldn't have come if I'd known what a waste of time this was going to be."

You grind your teeth. She's really trying to kill your buzz. "Maybe we could afford to have more fun," you say, "if you didn't bring the heat down on us."

Candi makes a strangles sound of frustration. "Wh-I didn't *ask* to get fucking stalked, dick!"

"Well you sure as shit didn't do a lot to prevent it."

"Ugh!" Candi blurts, aggravated. "You are such a—"

"Shut up a second," you say, silencing her with a raised hand. You check that the coast is clear outside and then open the door, gesturing your sister through. It feels good. No, not watching Candi's butt, I mean Jeff being dead. Feels good. Really good. So good in fact that you're barely listening to your sister rant about how unfair it is that her breath smells like cum or whatever.

Chip's now short a guy, forever. Someone finally got their comeuppance, and there's no possible way to trace it back to you. Of course, you *also* got blueballed on the kill so to speak. You and I really could have had a lot of fun with him. Let's make sure the next one is more special. I'm sure Candi would like that too.

"Next time," you say, interrupting her impotent rant as you both get into the Eagle.

"Promise?" She narrows her eyes at you dubiously.

The Eagle starts with a hungry growl. "Promise."

Candi props her sneakers up on the dash, exposing smooth, inviting legs. "You'd better not cross me again. You're not the only one who's dangerous." There's an edge to her tone. She's right, of course. Improbably, Candi Mercer is a White Trash Witch who can scorch your soul on a whim. Only, she would never do that to her brother. Probably.

You reach over, driving one handed, to rest a hand on her thigh. "Chill."

She shuts up. Either out of fear or excitement. What's the difference, really?

You rub her leg and weave through the dark streets of Roselake, finally leaving them for the black country where you really put the hammer down. The Eagle's growl becomes a low roar and you rocket through the night.

"And it's not my fault that dude found out where I live!"

"You're still going on about that?" you ask, rolling your eyes. You take your hand back. "You can't be so fucking careless. Not anymore."

"Or maybe my brother needs to do a better job of protecting me!" Candi retorts.

You sigh. Some days you really could kill her.

Anyway, things aren't all bad. You've made quite a bit of progress since you freed an an ancient Goddess from her forest prison and got her on your good side. You've got the beginnings of a cult. Between the dudes who simp for your slut sister on the internet and the handful of outcasts and weirdos you've brought in, you're doing pretty good. We'll get more into that later though, I'm sure.

"Is Virginia still being weird?" you ask, changing topics.

"I think it's kind of cute actually," Candi replies. "Plus when the fuck was the last time she was normal? The fucking 1960s?"

Probably. She's still being extra weird now.

Virginia Bonnie Stevenson is the human name of the Vessel of the Antlered God–the Thing in the Woods–which is the source of your sister's power. She's also your roommate. You freed her from her cage and she's been crashing on your couch ever since. Last time she walked free on this earth Disco was king and lapels were wide. Now she's sort of catching up to speed. It's been… interesting to see someone speed run pop culture.

You pull into the driveway of home. Home, of course, is a run down half-abandoned farm in the Pines. You park the car and shut it off.

"Remember," Candi says pointedly. "You made a promise. I. Want. Blood." She gets out and closes the door. Her skirt swishes as she hops up the steps to go inside, but you're not really paying attention. The look of confused fear on Jeff's face is playing on repeat in your mind. Finally you get out of the car.

As you approach the house you hear the thudding beat of a 4/4 drum. Dance music. Virginia's music, though it's not disco. You hesitate on the porch, thinking about the dances you shared with her, that twilight otherworld where she's some kind of Faye Disco Queen. You think about the electric kiss you shared. It's a lot for a normal person to process. But you're not a normal person.

Still, there's something nagging at you. Something Virginia said after the kiss.

*I like you, Kyle. Get it?*

She's far from human. Farther even than you. Truthfully, you're not really sure she feels things the same way other people do, but you're certain that she *does* feel. You've seen her get mad, you've seen her cry, you've seen happier than any person you've ever known.

*Let's just tuck this one in our hat for now. Don't want you rushin into something you can't exactly get out of. I'll just let you have that kiss for free, and you be thinkin if that's how you want things to be.*

You've kissed three women since returning home. One was under duress so you're not sure that counts. The other was your sister, which definitely counts. Last was Virginia. Maybe that was the heat of the moment, maybe that was a coldly calculated choice to get on her good side. Or maybe not.

It will make things complicated, especially with your sister, but you need to at least be honest with yourself. So, big guy, is that how you want things to be with her?

>There's something between me and Virginia.
>That was a one time thing. It's not like that between us.
>Write in

>>6312597
I wasn't in favour of that gas station situation but since it happened:
>There's something between me and Virginia.
Full greed, like Candi said: "Kyle *always* gets what he wants, doesn't he? Bloodshed or blowjobs." If he can take it, he will.

>>6312597
>>That was a one time thing. It's not like that between us.

>>6312597
>There's something between me and Virginia

>>6312597
Tempting very tempting.
>That was a one time thing. It's not like that between us.

Its the two snakes devouring each other not the three.

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431 KB JPG

>>6312597
>There's something between me and Virginia.

>>6312677
time for a new tattoo

>>6312597
>>That was a one time thing. It's not like that between us.

>>6312597
>There's something between me and Virginia

>There's something between me and Virginia.
>6312623
>6312655
>6312785

>That was a one time thing. It's not like that between us.
>6312639
>6312677
>6312805

Writing

>>6312920
Witnessed.

Give me a bit to figure out how I want to handle this.

You really are fucked up about this, huh? I'd say you're "of two minds" but that just feels a tad too on the nose. Ha. Ha. So, how do you want things to be?

Like Candi said, you *always* get what you want, and let's be honest, you want it all. Besides, it's not like what you have with Virginia invalidates what you have with your sister, right? Holy fucking shit, do you even listen to the things that go through your head? You really are fucked up, man.

Needless to say, you don't need this right now. You clench your jaw and follow your sister into the house. As if you don't have enough shit going on in your life, now you gotta have a fucking love triangle between you, your patron deity, and your fucking sister. Where did it all go wrong for you? Maybe what you need is more time. Maybe this is one of those problems that will solve itself.

You catch a flash of red at the top of the stairs, Candi going into her room—the source of the pounding music. You proceed upstairs with a small degree of apprehension. After all when is change ever good?

"Hey, Boogie Man!" Virginia calls excitedly. She's sitting on the bed grinning at you, cigarette in hand, basking in the tunes.

Candi pomfs down beside her, looking decidedly neutral about her Goddesses' aesthetic metamorphosis even though it's largely her fault.

Virginia's glasses are the same as always, rose-tinted circle frames that cover half her face. They flash in the pink neon accent lights of Candi's room. They're about one of the only things that are the same for her. Candi's been helping her find new music.

"It's called Future Funk!" Virginia says. "Ain't it far out?" Her canines seem to be permanently enhanced, almost fang-like. She looks kind of like she did in the dream world only without the antlers, hooves, or halo.

For now.

Suffice to say, after half a century of stagnation, Virginia is changing fast.

In the time since you freed her and reconnected her with civilization Virginia has abandoned the 1970s almost completely. Now, instead of her usual disco chic/hippie attire she now wears a tight, form fitting turquoise dress of a shimmering, holographic fabric. It comes down to midthigh and looks like Y2K threw up on it. It's dotted with Windows 95 logos and splashing, low rez 3D dolphins. Far Out. You have to wonder how much Virginia really understands the aesthetic. Then again, how much does anyone really understand it?

She went through a few phases, focusing on dance music in particular. A month ago it was Crystal Castles and Machine Girl. Now it's Android Apartment, Saint Pepsi, and Strawberry Station. It shouldn't really be a surprise that this appeals to her. This Vaporwave/Future Funk stuff is timeless, nostalgic, 4/4 drum beats and catchy vocal hooks. It's a lot like Disco but all killer, no filler.

Virginia notes you staring and stands up, twirling in place with a youthful vigor that belies her true age. "Candi said I needed to get with the times! Well, what do you think? Like it?"

>I liked the old look more
>You do you.
>I like it. It's very "you"
>Write in

>>6312971
>I like it. It's very "you"

>>6312971
I didn't get any of those names.
>I like it. It's very "you"
How amusing.

>>6312971
>Feels like you belong on stage.

>>6312971

>I liked the old look more

>I like it. It's very "you"

>Writing

It's pretty surreal. But that's par for the course now, isn't it?

"I like it," you say, taking the excuse to look her over again. She obliges you by spinning in place. Yep, looks good. "It's very 'you.'."

"Aw, thanks sugar," she says before turning to your sister. "Ain't he sweet?"

"When he wants to be," Candi says before giving you a displeased look. "When he wants something."

Virginia pats Candi's head affectionately. Or maybe condescendingly, sometimes it's hard to say. Ah, no. The way she trails her fingers down Candi's cheek is *definitely* affectionate. "We both know Kyle gets what he wants, don't we?" Virginia smirks at you.

Candi seems less amused.

You're not sure how much of that is Virginia's own intuition and how much is her ability to see things. You kind of suspect she can read you like a book. Not sure how comforting that is.

Virginia crosses the room to you. "It's taken some gettin used to, but I think it fits me like a *glove*." She runs her hands down her hips and shimmies with emphasis.

"Feels like you belong on stage," you add as she walks past you.

"I hope you mean that as a compliment, hun," she says. "I'd rather be a star than a circus freak, dig?"

You do, but think she could honestly pass as either.

"How'd it go?" Virginia asks. "You feel better now, with that boy dead and gone?"

"Tons."

Virginia looks between you and Candi who is now idly painting her nails a new shade of black. "Well, with old business settled, we got new business to take care of! You gonna be ready for the next ceremony, baby?" She looks at your sister.

"Uh huh." Candi remains disinterested.

Virginia puts her hands on her hips, cocking them to the side to look at Candi disapprovingly. "Aw, buck up, baby. Don't tell me you're still sore at your brother."

Candi looks somewhere between annoyed and afraid. "Do we really have to talk about this?"

"Sure we do, we're family!" Virginia insists. She reaches out and takes your hand, guiding you suddenly toward your sister and pushing you down to sit beside her, hip to hip. "Now, kiss and make up." She's grinning ear to ear. You're pretty sure what she wants is a show, but you're not going to indulge her. You let your sister make the first move.

Candi sighs, turns, and gives you a soft kiss on the cheek.

"There, ain't that better?" Virginia asks.

Candi gives you another unhappy look and shrugs. "I guess. And yeah, I'll be ready for the ceremony. I've been practicing. Lawrence said he's going to bring someone new again." The way your sister says that name with such joy and reverence really pisses you off. It's just your fucking luck that he got in on the ground floor and now, as a consequence, is one of Virginia's lieutenants. You really should have killed that twerp sooner. Never too late, I guess, but it will probably bring some uncomfortable questions if one of Virginia's top recruiters stops showing up.

Virginia claps excitedly. "More the merrier! Just as soon as we get the kind of power we need we can really start making moves." She grins at you. "Sound good to you, Boogie Man?"

Your family has a lot to get even for. The Truesdale family has been fucking the Mercer family for generations. It's going to be extremely satisfying to settle that account. Ah, that reminds you of the small Jeff-shaped down payment you made. You hope his loss hurts Chip a lot. "Sounds good."

"I reckon I oughta prepare the temple," Virginia says. "Wanna give me a hand?"

"Sure." You don't really know how often you can refuse the whims of a god. You don't really want to find out.

The temple is the heart of the cult. Your gathering place, your base of operations. Where did you choose to set up shop?


>The Cellar
Close to home makes it convenient and secure, but it also means bringing strangers to your house on the regular.

>The Woods
The Old Ways are the best ways. Virginia's stone circle prison has been rendered safe again. It can strike awe into anew recruits. It's also very out of the way.

>Lasker City Warehouse
Abandoned, secretive, but far from home. At least it's not connected with you directly. The bums you have to periodically chase out can be a blessing or curse depending on how hungry you are.

>Write in
If anyone has any betters ideas.

>>6313398
>The Woods
May as well just go classic.

>Write in
The Old Mine. Defensible and out of the way, considering how the last cult was hunted down. Make it look like some kind of business venture as a cover?

Considering Virginia's powers are more like winning lotto tickets, digging and finding some gold or silver might be doable lol. Put those cultists to work!

>>6313398
>The Old Mine

We'll need to put work into rendering it safe by replacing/ magicing up the supports, adding anti scrying stuff, and adding a back way out but I think its worth the investment in the long run and has lots of potential.

>>6313444
>>6313507
We haven't even visited the Old Mine have we?

>>6313398
>The Old Mine
Check it out first, if it doesn't pan out then we can use the ever reliable Woods

>>6313398
>>The Old Mine

>>6313519
No I don't believe we have. I figured I'd just throw it out there with a silly idea of using it for money and cult slave labor so they aren't out causing trouble lol, but seems pretty popular

>>6313519
>>6313639
It has not been found, but the consensus seems to be to find it. I can definitely re-contextualize this to finding it.

>>6313640
Yeah like I said, check it out. If it's trash then go for the Woods.

>>6313444
>>6313507
>>6313519
>>6313593

Mine/Woods

Writing

"Me too?" Candi asks hopefully, wanting to tag along.

Virginia flashes her a sympathetic look. "Reckon you got another temple to prepare." She glances down at your sister's body.

Candi sighs. "Right."

"I'll make it up to you, baby," Virginia says, brushing her cheek and blowing smoke in her face. "You just be good while we're gone."

Candi nods submissively, gives you a half-scowl, and then resumes painting her nails.

Virginia leads you outside without another word and into the dark. You follow her into the Pines without hesitation. A pale, sourceless light tracks her like a dim spotlight, illuminating a small circle around her as she walks. Winter's chill bite has relaxed a lot lately, despite the fact that the air is still and breezeless. It's almost warm–unseasonably so. The sky overhead is overcast and low, a flat gray which seems to glow a sickly orange in the night from Lasker City's light pollution.

"How do you do it?" You ask.

"It's just comes natural baby," she says. She's wearing some of your sister's combat boots, but she walks without sound. They don't seem to quite touch the ground. You're a quiet guy, but still noisy by comparison, leaf litter crunching underfoot.

"I mean with my sister. She doesn't listen to anyone."

"She listens to you," Virginia counters.

"Sort of," you agree. It usually takes threats though.

"You just gotta find what people want. What they need," Virginia explains. "Easier when you can see it clear as day." She takes a long drag on her cigarette.

"And what does she need?"

Virginia looks back over her shoulder at you, eyes twinkling mischievously. "A sister."

"You really get a kick out of our… relationship, don't you?" you ask balefully. Now *you're* the one feeling like a circus freak. Not really without justification though.

Virginia chuckles, smoke coming from her nose. "It just tickles me pink. Never had that urge myself, but it's certainly different." After a pause she adds. "Oh, it ain't a hateful thing, baby. In fact, it suits me just fine. Makes things easier."

You don't bother to ask how.

The path to the stone circle is well-worn by now. The mossy, rock obelisks form concentric circles, making the backdrop of your outdoor temple which looks like an old-timey folk revival. A canvas-topped tent covers a dozen or so folding chairs and a folding table acting as the altar. Getting all this shit out here wasn't easy, but it went quicker with help.

Virginia hangs back, pointedly staying away from the stone circle. She hums to herself–September–as you arrange everything, bush off pine needles, and take the sound system out from a water-tight cooler under a folding table. The hardest thing to get out here was the ancient tetherball pole you stole from a derelict middle school–nothing more than a cement filled tractor tire with a tall metal pole protruding from the middle.

"This is gonna be a good one," she says, leaning against a pine and watching.

"You say that every time."

"I mean it every time."

When you're close to done, you stop working. "Virginia."

"Boogie Man."

"You know anything about a mine around here?"

Her carefree attitude vanishes at once and suddenly she's fixing you with all her attention. Her smile is gone. Somehow the still air becomes even stiller. "A mine."

You speak even though some shred of human instinct tells you not to. "Grandpa was looking for a mine out here or dug one or something. He was looking for coal."

Virginia keeps staring blankly.

"Might make a good temple," you say. "A bit more secure than this." You gesture to the open air setup. "Plus if there's anything valuable…"

There's a long silence that makes even you uncomfortable. "Ain't a coal mine," she says finally.

"What was it then?" you ask, unable to help yourself.

"A grave. A tomb." Virginia turns away, puffing on her cigarette. You wait patiently and eventually she continues. "Something got buried out here. Deep. Deep." She shakes her head. "Lost. Forgotten." She takes a long drag and then exhales.

"What's buried down there?" you ask.

The overcast orange light disappears from the sky, plunging everything into midnight blackness.

"A god."

When the light returns, Virginia is facing you.

If you were completely human, this would trigger your fight or flight. Fear isn't something you feel much of anymore though. "The Thing in the Woods," you guess.

Virginia nods. "The Antlered God." It's dead silent here, the words seem to carry a long ways.

"Why? Why was Grandpa looking for it?"

"Cause I needed him to," Virginia says finally. "Cause I asked him to. Can't do what I did… be what I become without it. I told you the Veil's thin here in Roselake and that's a big reason why. A dead god's like…" she thinks. "Like a big giant radioactive landfill, leaching out into the soil… the air, contaminating everything, eating it away."

"You're afraid of it," you said.

Virginia's eyes flash anger. "Course I am," she says. "Hell, you should be too."

"Why?"

"Cause what made me—" She freezes mid word.

You know the rest. "Can unmake you."

Her jaw snaps shut, teeth clicking. She nods slightly. "Down there… in the dark and cold, is a tap… a Wellspring." She shakes her head, cradling it with her hands for a moment like she's overcoming a godly headache. "You don't understand all that goes with it. I'm what's left of it, you see? That grave is my grave. That place is my birthplace. It's like…" she's at a loss for words, eyes searching the sickly sky. "Like a snake," she says finally. "A snake eatin its own tail. Dig?"

You do. More than anyone.

"You want my honest truth? I'd just as soon that place stay lost," she says. "But…"

"But?"

"There's a power there. An undeniable power. Maybe somethin we can use. Maybe somethin that could get out of control."

"The power to kill you," you say.

"The power to replace me," she says with a mixture of irritation and resignation. "Maybe the power to make me stronger. Power to do a lot of things. But… I don't need to tell you the danger of tampering with great power, do I?" She forces a cold smile onto her face. "You and your darlin sister are living proof why you shouldn't play with fire, huh?"

Your scars burn with a distant, half-forgotten flame. You smell gasoline and cooking flesh. You hear screaming—your own—and sobbing—someone else's.

"But it's your call, sugar," Virginia says. "If you want to go down there, if you want to play Prometheus. I trust you."

Those last three words resonate in your head. She says with utmost sincerity. The trust of a god made flesh in your hands. Aren't you a lucky man?


>We should look into it
>Let Dead Gods lie. Better not to meddle
>Write in

>>6313689
>We should look into it

The lake guys seem to have a pretty close relationship with their god, we should have options to match that

>>6313689
>We should secure the area, at least. So that's how Dad was able to thin the veil in the barn, huh?

>>6313689
>We should look into it
Like that's ever stopped us before

No update today. Going to let this vote run over the weekend. We'll pick up Monday.

>>6313689
>>We should look into it
>Write in
If we need it It'll be an option.

>>6314170
See you then Nem

Back and rested. Let's get to eating our tails.

>We should look into it

Writing

"It's worth looking into," you say without an ounce of uncertainty. I guess death will do that to a man.

Virginia–despite her own brush with death, seems less certain but, true to her word, nods. "I'll show you how to find it," she says, suddenly striding into the woods, arms folded nervously. You note that she didn't say "show you where it is."

You follow after her.

"When we first found it…" Virginia trails off. "Just be careful, hun."

You say nothing.

"Just walk north from the stone circle and think of it. Think of the Antlered God," Virginia says.

You don't have much to go on. The Antlered God is more concept than entity to you. In fact, more than anything you think of its avatar, its Vessel. Virginia. "What's the worst that can happen?" you ask. "Besides replacing you."

She shoots a look over her shoulder. "You ain't the imaginative sort, are you?"

"Why are you so afraid of something that you embody? Something you have."

"Fire can keep you warm," she says. "Fire can keep away predators or cook food. Ain't gonna catch me sticking my hand in it though." Virginia wrinkles her nose.

You accept her point just as you push through a thick cluster of ferns and stumble to a halt in a small clearing. A narrow black hole descends at an angle into a rocky hillside. The Mine.

"Here," she says with the finality of an executioner's command. "But… don't go in tonight. Veil is weaker at night and I don't know what you might find down there. Also, I ain't goin in with you."

You stare at the mine and feel what she says. The veil is very weak here, maybe nonexistent, but it's hard to say. You feel that soul-piercing cold radiating from the hole. It feels different than what you're used to, no less dark, no less frigid but without that skin-crawling damp sensation. More than that, you can tell there's something down there. Something big. Huge.

"So how come the Lake Cult isn't scared of their God?" you ask, distracting yourself from the mortal terror sloshing in your guts.

"Cause they ain't got any sense," Virginia says with a shiver. "They ought to be. They reckon they got it all sewn up. We know better though. Don't we?" Her tone is a little more uncertain than you'd like. You answer with silence.

"So is this how Dad was able to thin the Veil at the Barn?" you ask, gesturing to the mine. "Something in there?"

"Honey, your daddy would've never gone in there if he was as bad as you say," she says. "What we do on this side effects the other. I reckon that place got thin just cause of how damn wicked he was. All that hurt he gave you and Candi made that place like it is."

When you recall the debauchery perpetrated in that forsake place, it checks out. "I'll go tomorrow," you say.

"No," Virginia shakes her head. "Do it after the ceremony." That's tomorrow night.

You give her a quizzical look, but she doesn't meet your eyes. You see the abyssal hole reflected in her glasses. "Alright."

"Now you know how to find this place," she says, turning away. "I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to." She starts to walk back and, of course, you follow.

You've got to get some sleep, you have work tomorrow and the ceremony that night. Busy day.

After you leave the Mine and then the stone circle behind, Virginia seems to relax. She even lights a cigarette on the final stretch of your forest excursion. The sweet smell of tobacco and pine surrounds you as you walk the dark, guided only by her own ethereal light.

"I know you're chompin at the bit to get Karlsson or Truesdale or whatever he's callin himself under your claws," Virginia says. She slows her walk enough to fall in beside you. "And," she says, looping an arm around your waist, walking hip to hip with you. "I know patience ain't your strongest point."

"You might be surprised," you say.

"Maybe I would," she chuckles. "But, I appreciate it all the same. I promise you it'll pay off."

You say nothing.

"Remember, I promised to show you just how grateful I am," she says.

You don't bother to point out that she keeps saying that but so far hasn't done much of anything practical for you. You don't say it, but you don't have to.

Virginia frowns. "I mean it," she says. "I'm a woman of her word!"

You don't like her reading your thoughts. I don't like it either. This is an A-B conversation and she should really C her way out of it!

"I know," you say placatingly.

"No," she insists, tugging you against her slightly in emphasis. "You want somethin now. What do you want, sugar? I can make it happen."


>Something nice for Candi
>Shadow Dancing
When you're wrapped in shadow or darkness you're completely invisible to mortal eyes. Useful for prowling the dark and stalking prey.
>On the Radio
You can glean mortal thoughts, taste their minds. It's not like reading an open book, more like catching headlines but will let you know the direction their thoughts are headed.
>Another kiss
>Write in

>>6315270
Hmmm
>Something nice for Candi
>Shadow Dancing
When you're wrapped in shadow or darkness you're completely invisible to mortal eyes. Useful for prowling the dark and stalking prey.
She didn't say only one thing. Also asking for a kiss is negative aura behaviour.

>>6315270
>Something nice for Candi
What, like a bigger rack or ass? Candi does like calling Ani's tits fake. Or how easy it would be to get more simps. Though power for if she ever gets targeted wouldnt be bad either.

>Shadow Dancing
I am real tempted for On The Radio tho. So much use for conversation and interaction, but would Kyle really be better off hearing their thoughts lol.

Sneaking around is always good especially when he will end up killing again.

>>6315270
>A nonlethal self-defense power for Candi like... the ability to sing people to sleep.

>>6315270
>Shadow Dancing

>>6315270
>>Something nice for Candi

>>6315270
>>Something nice for Candi

>>Something nice for Candi
>>6315407
>>6315430
>>6315560
>>6315593

Aw. How nice.

Writing

>>6315620
Huh? I want both. I'll remove
>Something nice for Candi
So it becomes a tie.

File: ThePines.jpg (90 KB, 1024x1024)

90 KB JPG

You're feeling uncharacteristically charitable. Sort of. Some more powers would be nice, but you know they take a lot out of Virginia, even with the meager offerings she's been getting so far. Besides, you like your sister. More than most.

"Candi is the one who really deserves something nice," you say. "She's been doing all the leg work." Sometimes literally.

Virginia considers this. "Hm. She's a tougher one to please." She circles you slowly like a shark eyeing prey. "You're easy, Boogieman. You're more physical. Carnal. Power and pleasure does it for you."

She's right, of course. Don't bother denying it.

"But her?" Virginia stops, tapping her chin in thought. An idea suddenly occurs to her. Her eyes faintly glow behind her glasses as the ethereal spotlight around her fades away. "How about something simple. How about a quiet night?" she suggests. The light is gone and now you're in darkness. Just you and Virginia's eyes. "A beautiful dream."

Then you're alone, but not really. You're asleep, dreaming, but not alone.

You open your eyes. All your eyes. You're in the Pines only they go on forever. There is no Farm, no House, no Stone Circle, no Shed. Just the Pines. You see everything with the painful clarity only made possible by your Sacred Form, the Evil that lurks within you. Taking a step, your powerful legs glide smoothly, padded feet falling silently. You're a predator, the internal made external, the ugliness in your soul made somehow beautiful, potent, deadly.

You stride through the woods, searching with your many eyes, breathing the scent of pines, tasting the cold night air with a long tongue. Yes, you are in your Sacred Form, only you don't feel the inhuman frenzy that comes with it. You are utterly in control.

It's strange, despite how sharply attuned your senses are, you can't see any colors. This is abnormal. Everything is desaturated, grainy. Like you're seeing the world through 35 millimeter film.

A flash of white movement in the dim distance draws your attention like moth to flame. Someone else is here. The dreamer of this dream. You close on them automatically, in no particular hurry since you know exactly who you'll find.

Your sister, Candi Mercer, walks the woods in a flowing white dress. It billows and trails behind her in a breeze you don't feel. Her hair is longer than normal, flowing like the dress, her eyes wide and afraid as she scans the dark looking for…

She locks eyes with you and freezes.

Looking for you.

You feel her powerful heart beating, feel her hot blood racing, her delicate breath dragging in and out. Even at this distance, you can see her lips tug into a smirk. Then she turns and runs. The woods blur as you bound after her. Her heart pounds like a rabbit's as she flees, winding through the trees, dodging around pines, leaping over logs.

You're faster, much faster, but you're not trying to catch her. You're just here to chase her. It's what she wants. It's what she likes. It's a strange thing to dream about, strange for most people anyway. Candi seems to mostly have nightmares. In those nightmares you suspect she's trapped, but in her dreams she's free. Free to run.

She flees and you chase, winding together through the endless Pines with the timelessness of a dream. It lasts forever and an instant. Candi skids in fallen pine needles as you round a tree, nearly coming face to face with her. She gasps, laughs, and ducks away, circling the opposite direction. You leap onto the tree and circle it, claws gouging into the papery bark before you leap over hear head to land in front of her, cutting her off.

She slips again, this time landing on her butt in the pine needles. There's no escape now.

Saliva rolls from your open mouth as you take a few threatening steps toward her. Her blood surges through her, thundering in veins tantalizingly close to the surface, a vivid, seductive red in this bland gray world.

Candi stares at you with an expression somewhere between fear and adoration, then she closes her eyes and bares her throat, arching her back as she exposes her slender neck to you, inviting your teeth.

You can take her just like you've always wanted to. Just like she's always wanted.


>Take her
>Take her + (Lewd)
>Comfort her. Protect her.
>Write in

>>6315626
I'd already written the update by that point. When I hold a vote, if someone votes for more than one option I assume they are okay with any of the options they vote for

If the majority is okay with multiple options then I will sometimes combine them, depends on the vote.

>>6315632
It's okay, Kyle can still ask of it Virginia after this can he not? Still want that Shadow Dancing, Greed forever!

>>6315631
Hmmm. Either
>Take her + (Lewd)
>Comfort her. Protect her
or
>Take her
>Comfort her. Protect her.
Gotta mix it up a little bit. Usually things are just carnal so how about making it more heartwarming and slowpaced? (Still a little bit carnal, wouldn't be the Mercer siblings otherwise)

>>6315633
Unless there's a particularly clever write in or suggestion, I don't think "Take" and "Comfort" can really be combined. Taking is going to be violent and decisive.

Lewding your sister is, of course, always an option, but Kyle isn't capable of taking AND comforting.

>>6315654
Im thinking "taking" can mean something like a shoulder bite and lapping up the blood. If "taking" can only mean "killing" then yeah.

Unless you meant that Kyle wouldn't be able to restrain himself to just a bite?

>>6315675
>like a shoulder bite and lapping up the blood
This can be attempted, but restraint isn't Kyle's strong suit. Once he starts, it's not clear he can stop. I'd require a dice roll to see how far things go if anons want to go halfway.

Otherwise this is a vote to surrender to instinct.

>>6315681
>This can be attempted, but restraint isn't Kyle's strong suit.
Neither is it not trying to have it both ways which is why I want to go for it. How should it be phrased then?

>>6315631
Either
>Have a taste + (Lewd)
>Comfort her. Protect her.
Or
>Have a taste
>Comfort her. Protect her.

>Have a taste
Works. Not trying to tell you how to vote, just make you aware of the possibility of a dice roll. Thanks!

>>6315631
>Have a taste + (Lewd)
I sort of expected a future sacred form use like this, Virginia really does read minds

>>6315631
>Comfort her. Protect her.

Snug.

>>6315631
>>Comfort her. Protect her.

In the interest of not having a repeat of the last update: consider me voting for
>Have a taste + (Lewd)
So it's a tie and I can have the combo I would otherwise vote for.

Not ready to lock in yet but
>>6315962
For clarity, Have a Taste requires a successful dice check.

If that fails it will pivot directly into "take her" and there will be no "protect/comfort" so I can't consider these votes combined unless the majority wants to try to combine them and is okay with that possibility.

>>6315963
>For clarity, Have a Taste requires a successful dice check.
You said it before, I know.

>If that fails it will pivot directly into "take her" and there will be no "protect/comfort" so I can't consider these votes combined unless the majority wants to try to combine them and is okay with that possibility.
Ok that's fair.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>Have a taste + (Lewd)
>>6315721
>>6315962

>Comfort and protect
>>6315775
>>6315913

Kind of an awkward voting situation. Everything is all tied up and basically anything can happen

In the interest of moving forward I'll roll to break the tie. Let the will of the Dead Antlered God be done.

>1 Taste
>2 Protec

>>6315993
THE DICE HAVE SPOKEN

Even in your dreams–or hers–you're not sure that's a seal you should break. You're not sure you're ready to commit to that, not sure what will happen, not sure you can stop yourself once you start.

Candi stares into your eyes. You feel her trembling, her shaky breath washing across your face. After a moment she looks a little confused. She licks dry lips and whispers to you. "You can hurt me… if you want to."

Oh, let's not kid ourselves. You want to. You really do want to. Of course you do, after what she did, how could you not? After all, that's what she wants. But… maybe that's not what she needs.

You lean in closer to her, standing over her, breathing on her, staring into her pale eyes.

"Aren't you going to… eat me?" she asks.

You give a soft shake of your head and then lean into her, nuzzling against her neck, warming her cold skin with the heat radiating off you.

Candi looks startled at first but then relaxes, putting her arms around you, running her fingers through the thick fur on your neck, holding you tight as you curl around her protectively. Her grip tightens, pulling desperately as she buries her face in your fur. You can feel the tears on her cheek, her trembling grip. "Thank you," she whispers.

Her heart beats strong and steady, beckoning to you, the siren song of violence and… what did Virginia call it? Carnal pleasure? There will be time for that later. Right now, Candi needs to be safe here. She doesn't have to run and she doesn't have to hurt. Not right now.

The cold, gray forest recedes, shrinking into the vast darkness, leaving only the two of you, entwined like snakes in the act, clinging tightly together. Like all things in dreams it lasts forever and then it ends.

Your alarm jolts you awake. You're in bed, Candi's bed. No clue how you got here, but Candi is with you, laying on your chest, her arms around you. Her eyes flutter blearily open, meeting yours. "Mmh?" She blinks and sits up a little. "Mh." She closes her eyes again and lays down beside you. "I had a dream."

"Oh?"

She nods. "Mm. Yeah. It was kind of weird." She yawns and stretches. "Made me…" she trails off, looks confused a little, then shrugs. "Yeah, it was nice." After a moment she looks down at herself, a little puzzled. She's topless, which is pretty normal for her. You watch as she fondles herself. "You think my boobs are bigger?" She asks, lifting her arms over her head and examining herself.

Maybe they are. "Maybe you gained weight," you say.

Candi shoots you a drop-dead look. "Did not. Asshole."

You reach over and tousle her hair. "Relax. I'm kidding."

Your sister closes her eyes and hums affectionately as you rub her hair.

"Tell me about your dream."

"No," she says, smiling. "Then it might not come true. Now get out of bed and get ready for work."

You can't say 'no' to your sister. You get up and start getting dressed. It's kind of a miracle that the lumber mill hasn't fired you yet. You sort of imagine that HR is afraid of you, but Chip certainly isn't, though he really should be.

"Oh shit," Candi gasps. She's playing on her phone. "Some dude just sent me a thousand bucks!"

Virginia really is trying to go all out, you assume.

"For what?"

"Uh, cause I rock?" Candi says. "I guess. That's fucking awesome." She puts her phone back and lays down again. "Can you go withdraw it from the bank after work?" She needs it in cash so she can give it to Chip, her pimp. I'm not really sure if that counts as being cucked or not. I mean he probably hasn't fucked her. Maybe. You'll have to ask him next time you see him! Might give us a little more motivation. Either way, it's a problem you can deal with later. You grunt a vague affirmative and pull on your jacket. NEMESIS. Looks good. Unlike your fucked up face.

"Kyle?"

You look back at your sister sprawled on the bed. She's idly playing with a strand of hair, not looking at you. "Yeah?"

"Um…" she lapses to silence. It gets awkward. "Have a nice day at work, okay?" She risks giving you a glance but before you can speak, turns over, covering herself with the sheets again.

What to say to that? Nothing.

You leave for work. The ceremony is tonight. The beautiful keening of the Saw quiets the noise in your mind. You really ought to try to run someone through it some day. Maybe on your last day of work. It passes without event. You pretend to be human successfully enough. Afterwards, it's time to go to the bank. Or is it? Maybe it's time to stop pretending with Chip. What's the worst he can do if you tell your sister to stop paying him?


>Do what Candi asked and get the cash for Chip, we need to keep him off our back for now
>Fuck Chip, this is her money. He can fuck off.
>Write in

>>6316005
Now this is the mixing it up I was talking about. I like it!

>>6316006
Maybe Im missing something obvious but how would he know that she got this money?

>>6316020
>how would he know that she got this money?
He doesn't know about THIS money in particular. This is more of a "Keep paying back Chip" or "Stop paying back Chip" type vote.

She owes him money and this would help knock some of that back.

>>6316006
>>6316022
Then
>Fuck Chip, this is her money. He can fuck off.
Pay only what is convenient until we kill him.

>>6316006
>Do what Candi asked and get the cash for Chip, we need to keep him off our back for now.
She has her reasons, let's trust her.

>>6316006
>>Do what Candi asked and get the cash for Chip, we need to keep him off our back for now

>>6316006
>Do what Candi asked and get the cash for Chip, we need to keep him off our back for now

>>6316097
>>6316109
Yeah now that I've slept on it. It'd be better to cover such decisions with Candi. Not that it matters now.

Chip delenda est is still a top priority however.

>>6316006
>>Do what Candi asked and get the cash for Chip, we need to keep him off our back for now

I think theres an argument to be made for not paying, Chip will distracted by one of his officer goons dying. Though the timing could be a little sus Chip probably wouldn't think that Kyle would kill with an overdose instead of bashing someone's head in. No sense risking any suspicion now.

>Do what Candi asked and get the cash for Chip, we need to keep him off our back for now

Writing

Better not rock the boat. Especially not now that your sister is actually being kind of good. For now.

The Eagle starts like a dream and you cruise away from work and into town. The sky overhead is gray and low still. That unseasonable warmth has carried on radiating, it seems, without source. Not like you can see the sun through the hazy, indistinct cloud cover. You roll down the windows, letting a wash of air cool you, bringing with it the sweet smell of exhaust and the throaty pur of the Eagle.

Roselake, postcard town that it is, is quiet and gray. There's almost no foot traffic out today. Everyone's staying in or still at work. Almost everyone. You see kids–teenagers. They loiter at the corners of buildings and the mouth of alleys, skateboards under their arms, watching you from beneath raised hoods.

They're hollow.

No way to explain it, but you can sense it. They're not right in sort of the same way that you're not right and there's more of them, at least a dozen across town. They watch you drive by since there's nothing else on the road. You watch them right back. Like recognizing like maybe.

You park at the bank and shut the car off when you get out. The air is still, the town is quiet. There are a few other cars in the lot and when you go inside there's a significant line at the only open teller window. A harried young man works through the tense patrons as quickly as he can until it's your turn.

He seems to tense up when he gets a good look at you. That's normal.

You make no small talk and just do the transaction as Candi requested, pulling cash from her account so she can submissively hand it over to your enemy.

"Time?" the guy behind the counter asks.

You look up at him blankly. "What?"

"Is it time?" he asks, leaning closer his voice a whisper.

You stare at him and he stares back. He's trembling slightly, pale. You look over your shoulder at the growing line of frustrated customers. Is this guy seriously the only one working. "Time for what?" you ask.

He blinks and shakes his head then hands you the cash. "Have a nice day."

You doubt you will, but take the cash anyway. You leave the bank and head back home, trying not to imagine how the meetings between Chip and your sister usually go. Instead, you focus on the ceremony tonight. It'll be here sooner than you think.

Like now.

It's after dark when Virginia's followers congregate deep in the woods behind the Mercer farm. You stand to one side at the edge of the collapsible pavilion and watch as the devoted and believers roll in slowly. It's strange to feel like a link in the chain of history. Strange to think you're standing where your Grandpa might have once stood, doing what he once did.

It's even stranger when you see the types the cult has managed to recruit so far. It's a pretty even mix of Lawrence's weirdo hipster friends and stoners recruited by your old buddy Ralphie. They gather in the dark, speaking in quiet groups beneath the soft murmur of music coming form the sound system you set up out here. It feels so fucking mundane.

Your eyes follow Lawrence as he movies through the crowd, speaking with people, laughing, chatting. Lawrence, that worm. You know why he's here. Of course, it's the same reason a lot of these guys are here. Cult prostitutes tend to attract a certain type. Virginia has this idea of making this cult into a family. Right now it's an awkward one. Segregated, cliqued-out, and sort of timid, like no one wants to be the first to really commit. Everyone except for Lawrence anyway. You can't miss that triangle tattoo on the back of his hand. He's probably got more too.

Speaking of prostitutes, your sister hasn't revealed herself yet, but she will when she's ready. Same with Virginia. They have a flair for the dramatic.

"Hey man." Ralphie comes to stand beside you, smelling faintly of weed. He seems unbothered as usual. Maybe the only time you'd ever really seen him flustered was the first time you brought him out here, showed him what Virginia could do. Now he's working hard to pay Virginia back for that new house for his mom. It's not exactly a mansion, but it's definitely a step up.

You nod back.

"Your sister here yet?"

You shake your head. It's weird how quickly Ralphie, Lawrence, and the others took this this cult shit, weird how quick the fabric of society can be undone and bound in new, strange ways. Or maybe not so new. Maybe very Old ways.

Ralphie grunts quietly and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, looking around the gathering. It looks almost like a kegger but with fewer chicks. "You hear Lawrence's idea?"

You grit your teeth at the name. You should be uninterested in his idea but you can't help it. "No. What?"

"He wants to do like… an after party. So we can all unwind after and stuff." Ralphie shrugs.

"Where?"

"I dunno. Your house I guess. It's the closest."

There's at least forty people here. It would be a pretty decent house party, especially if you could get some more girls out here. Might be tough given your current ceremonial methods, but maybe not impossible, plus it's not a *complete* sausage fest. Among the hipsters and stoners is a sprinkling of women, mostly girlfriends, but not all.

Might not be bad to unwind with everyone, strengthen bonds, but it might also just be another ploy for Lawrence to sink his fucking hooks into this shit deeper.

"I've got some weed in my car," Ralphie says. "Figured we could use it. If you think it's cool."

You don't have an official rank in this cult, there's not much official hierarchy at all, but people see you as an arbiter, an executioner, someone outside and above who makes the tough calls. Candi is the hook and Virginia–well, Virginia is the main event.

Ralphie is looking at you for your opinion.

>A party sounds good
>Shit idea. Not happening
>I'll talk with Lawrence about it first.
>Write in

>>6316295
>As long as it that Mai Tai cross with Skittlez stuff, yeah that's some good stuff for opening the mind. That was always your go to for creativity back when you were more musically inclined.

>>6316295
>Write in
Virginia's old house

People unwinding and taking pictures of shit further associating the cult with our house is a no go. If people want a place to unwind they can fix up Virginia's old place.

>>6316295
>>6316495
That's a good idea actually. For some reason I remember it being destroyed after Kyle killed the echo but that's didn't happen did it?

>>6316510
I'm pretty sure we just left it there

>>6316510
>>6316639
It's half burned down already, but Kyle didn't further the destruction.

It could be a site for a party, but it's more woods than house at this point.

>>6316648
>but it's more woods than house at this point.
Better than having a mess forty people would make at the Mercer house.

>>6316342
>>6316495
>>6316510

Writing

You nod, liking the basic idea, even if it came from Lawrence. "Yeah, sounds good," you say. "There's an old house not far from here we can use. Maybe get some people to fix it up."

Ralphie nods. "Right on."

After a pause you add: "when you say you brought weed…"

"The good stuff," he says without missing a beat. "I don't skimp out for friends."

Ralphie is good people. No way around that. You actually find yourself smiling faintly.

A peal of thunder breaks the silence and everyone looks automatically skyward—superstitious primates who believe the gods are fighting. A flash of lightning splits the night, banishing shadow in favor of stark, merciless light for a single millisecond. The Pines around you stand sentinel, each trailing a thin black shadow to infinity. The bolt strikes the center stone of the circle.

When the rolling thunder fades away you see Virginia and Candi standing side by side at the stone circle, facing the congregation. People automatically fall to their knees, others stand in mute shock. Nearly all of them have seen it before, but it never fails to impress. Even you find yourself struggling to reconcile this raw power displayed so nakedly with the people you know to be nearly human.

Virginia looks basically the same as before, vaporwave dolphin dress, rose shades, and combat boots.

Candi is wholly transformed. Her eyes are ringed with black, artificial tear tracks running down over her cheeks nearly to her painted lips. A triangle is marked across her forehead in ash, her entire body painted in sigils and runes, symbols and signs. Speaking of her body, she's almost completely nude, wearing only a leather harness that showcases everything and hides nothing. She's wearing that antlered headdress she had the day she healed you too. Her pale eyes are unblinking, unseeing and yet wholly focused. Somehow, they find you in the crowd though there's not a hint of recognition on her expression.

Candi Mercer, Priestess of the Dead Antlered God. The Thing in the Woods. She stands by tetherball pole, one hand resting on the polished, shining metal, her fingernails black as night.

This is the part where you have a job, simple as it may be. You reach over to the MP3 player connected to the sound system, track already cued up, and press "play."

https://youtu.be/9-5IIx4R6E8

Candi dances, but dancing is an understatement. If she had any clothes on, you'd say she was stripping. She circles the pole, trailing her fingers across in, walking slowly, deliberately, moving her platform boots heel to toe. The bassy, driving music seems to control her. She writhes, spins, and performs acrobatics you didn't know she was capable of. Her body is a force of nature, something you can't look away from.

No one else can either. Ralphie watches rapturously as your sister inverts herself, hanging from the pole, thighs locked tight around it. Again, I'm not sure if this counts as being cucked.

After a minute or two of this, Virginia steps forward, smiling eagerly at her new followers, new worshippers. "We have new folks with us today," she says, pausing to light a cigarette with the touch of a fingertip. "Bring em forward." The darkness around her is dispelled by a halo-like disk of light coalescing behind her.

Lawrence ushers a trio of newcomers forward. They stagger a few steps and drop to their knees, awestruck, dumbfounded.

Virginia smiles warmly down at them, a benevolent god. She reaches out and touches each of their chins in turn, brushing her fingers across cheeks or foreheads. "Welcome." She stops at the last of the three. "What about you, sugar. What is it you need?" She asks in a way that suggests she already knows the answer to that.

"I'm afraid," he blurts. "I-I'm always afraid. Afraid of everything I… it's…"

"Anxiety," Virginia says.

He nods meekly.

"Well, you don't got to be afraid anymore." She touches his forehead, *almost* touches it. Her fingertip stops just shy and you see a pop of static between the two of them. "You don't got to be afraid," she repeats. "All you got to do," she straightens up, raising her voice to the entire congregation. "Is believe. Believe in me and we can believe in each other."

The man, really just a kid in a plaid jacket and beanie, starts weeping.

It goes like this. Your sister dances and Virginia performs miracles. Some ask her for things:

To say goodbye one last time.
To forgive.
To get better.
To forget.
To possess.
To change.
To win.

Others give back, returning the favor, paying their debts. They prostrate themselves, whispering, crying, praying. A collection plate quickly fills up, people giving what they can.

You remain at the back, walking slowly behind the pews–such as they are–watching. You have everything you need right now and besides, you've got a direct line to god when you don't. You're not alone in this. Ralphie apparently got most of what he wants. He stays seated, hands clasped tightly in his lap, watching as your sister dances.

Lawrence also stays back. He's never asked for anything as far as you know. He only gives.

Track changes to track and Candi's dancing continues, Virginia blessing, preaching, and healing. After everyone has been heard, it's time to close, another job for you. One you like.

You move to the front of everyone's attention, drawing your bootknife with seductive slowness as they all form a line. Each in turn approaches you, arm outstretched, palm up. You grab the first wrist and drag the blade across it, watching the red well up in their palm before they enter the stone circle, pressing their bloody hand to the altar stone. No matter how many times you do this, they never scar.

You cut everyone one at a time, newcomer and old believer.

Ralphie flinches when you do it. Lawrence stares at you unreadably. You really enjoy doing him and dig a little deeper.

Eventually the stone is painted in the blood of the faithful. Virginia and Candi approach it together, Candi leads the congregation in a prayer. The words mean less than the intent. You feel the power in it, feel the power in your sister's voice. When it's finished she presses her hands into the blood and then drags it across her body, forming a cross beneath her breasts. "We accept with gratitude," she says, "the latent offerings of the dead, Antlered God."

Everyone flinches again when lighting strikes the rock. The air tastes like iron and ozone, the cuts on everyone's hands gone like they never happened. It's like the morning after. There's a moment of emptiness and shame, a feeling of being hollow.

Lawrence steps out of the crowd and up to your sister, draping his jacket over her shoulders. She flashes him a grateful smile as she pulls the jacket closed, covering herself.

"Remember yall," Virginia says. "We are strong through belief. Maintain the faith and we maintain the power."

The congregants chorus back in the affirmative.

"Now," she says, "I reckon we got an after party. That right?" She looks at you expectantly and you nod.

"Your house," you say.

Her smile flickers slightly, almost imperceptibly. "Well, let's get a move on," she says.

Normalcy returns quickly, like none of that ever happened. People chat amongst themselves and start off through the woods, following their god-made-flesh toward her former home.


>Walk with Candi
>Walk with Ralphie
>Walk with VIrginia
>Write in

>>6316796
Make it up to Virginia later. New mixtape? Bring home a sacrifice? Dance? Find her brother's grave which honestly she might have forgotten where it is.

>Walk with Candi
>Write in
Or hold her back and have fun on the altar first. Raphie will save us some of the good stuff.

>>6316796
>with Lawrence

He needs to understand that from this point forward he is solely an instrument of OUR will.

>>6316796
>>Walk with Candi

>>6316796
I was gonna vote for Virginia but Candi is ok too I guess
>Walk with Candi

>Walk with Candi
Writing

Virginia's surprise is unmissable to you. Surprise… maybe hurt? Hard to say. She's got echoes of bad memories around that place, but it's not as if the stone circle is free of those either. You're really getting good at making the women in your life suffer for your own benefit!

You work your way through the stream of people filing out of the clearing following in Virginia's footsteps. Your sister stands out in the crowd for obvious reasons. The antler headdress, relative state of undress, and Lawrence's red plaid jacket make her easy to track.

You hear her laughing as you draw nearer.

The crowd is starting to spread out a little, moving in groups of two or three. Candi is in a group of two with Lawrence that becomes three when you arrive. He has his arm around her waist and they're both smiling.

Candi turns first, looking over her shoulder. She probably smelled you. "Kyle!" She says excitedly. Lawrence's arm naturally slips off her. "How'd I do? Lawrence says I was great."

Of course he did. Your gaze wanders to Lawrence and you're a little surprised to find that he doesn't flinch away. He keeps that frozen smile as he looks back. Does he know?

I mean, that's the obvious question, right? Surely someone here thinks it must be uncomfortable for you to watch your sister dance like that. But… no one ever really seems to notice or react to it. So… do they know? Do they know just how close you and your sister are?

"It's crazy how you do all that," Lawrence says before you have a chance to answer. "I'm in awe of your prodigious skill!" He puts just enough tongue in his cheek to make it clear this is a half-joke.

Candi covers her face as if she were capable of blushing. "Aw, stop."

"You were great," you say finally, decided to continue the pattern of being nice to your sister, even if she might not deserve it right now.

Candi touches Lawrence's arm. "I'll catch up."

"Sure," he smiles at her, looks at you, and then continues on into the dark.

Candi pulls his jacket tighter around herself as she watches him leave. Once he's gone she looks at you with a dreamy fucking smirk on her face. "You really thought I was great?"

She's really getting off on making two guys compliment her.

"You're a natural." Not sure if calling a woman a "natural" at stripping is a compliment or not, but she seems built for it. At least molded to it. You can see why Chip took a notice to her when she was dancing at Bottoms Up. Best not to dwell on that.

"Lawrence is a natural too," she says, falling into step with you. She wobbles a little on her platforms, the ground here is uneven and she has to grab your arm for support. "It's like he's a whole different guy. Taking charge and stuff. Real leadership material. And he believes! I mean *really* believes. I might teach him some spells or something," Candi says with an exaggerated air of nonchalance, as if she knows that won't piss you off. "Maybe." She shrugs. "Maybe not."

Your heart is racing. Why the fuck didn't you kill this guy before now? Who gives a fuck if he "believes" and organizes cult bake sales or whatever?

"Ralphie too," Candi continues. "It's nice seeing him again."

Oh my god, you're surrounded by guys trying to fuck your sister. This is fucking intolerable. "Yeah."

Candi smiles to herself as she walks, watching her step. After a few paces she stops and looks left, into the dark woods. You stop beside her, watching her look longingly into the abyss. You wonder if she's thinking about her dream, if she's fantasizing about running, fantasizing about being chased. You wonder who it is she wants chasing her.

You're also thinking about pushing her onto her back on that bloodstone and taking her in the way only you can. Tempting, but something tells you it's not the time.

>Lawrence needs to remember who he serves
>Virginia showed me where Grandpa's mine is. There's something powerful down there.
>You're not serious about the magic thing, are you?
>Write in

>>6318082

>Lawrence needs to remember who he serves
Fight club? Or pull him aside and shave his head a bit. Spook him with a flash of the sacred form, just enough to get the message across. And if we fail to control it I guess maybe he gets nibbled on a bit.


I do wonder on recreating the dream, but if I recall the sacred form needs to feed or it was some serious feedback. So I suppose the more typical 'chase'.

>>6318082
>>Lawrence needs to remember who he serves

>>6318082
>>Lawrence needs to remember who he serves.

Total Lawrence domination. (lewd)

>>6318082
>>You're not serious about the magic thing, are you?

>Lawrence needs to remember who he serves

Writing

Sorry for the delay.

>>6318228
>Total Lawrence domination. (lewd)
Lewding Lawrence is outside the scope of Nemesis Quest Unless you're willing to share Candi maybe. I'm sure she wouldn't mind.

What a fucking mess. Lawrence needs to learn the pecking order.

"Kyle?" You ignore your sister as you continue on. Besides, you're at Virginia's old house finally. Someone helpfully set up the sound system and moody bass fills the woods. Phone lights and a random string of battery-powered LEDs makes this place look a little less like a grave. The coolers of beer and aroma of marijuana helps too. You're not hear to party. Not right now.

Your cold eyes sweep the crowd. We have business with a pest.

"Kyle, you alright?" Candi asks, taking your arm. Probably the same way she held Lawrence's arm.

"Fine," you slip free. "Just want to see Lawrence about something."

"Oh?" She smirks, eyes glittering in the dark. "Play nice. But I think he's over there." She points across the ad hoc party and you see him.

You weave through people starting to dance, smoke, chat, and drink. The vibes are good. Well, I mean good for everyone except you. Your vibes are profoundly dark and negative.

Lawrence is talking to two of his buddies and sees you approaching. "Hey, Kyle! Good spot for the party. Very atmospheric."

You could just gut him on the spot. Plunge your knife straight into his belly and make his insides outsides. Bet no one would ever touch your sister again. But that might be detrimental for morale and recruitment so you don't. Something tickles the back of your mind, some sensation compelling you to look back, so you do.

Candi is watching. She's standing in shadow leaning across a thick pine trunk. Her jacket—Lawrence's jacket—is open, exposing pale flesh from throat to thigh. Her dark lips stand out starkly on her pale face. She's smirking.

"What's up?" Lawrence asks you.

You look around. The dark woods are close. "Let's talk," you say, gesturing away from the dim pools of light marking the party.

He follows your gesture, looks back at you, then shrugs. "Sure."

The two of you step away from the party and crunch through pine needles until you're both alone together. A lot of people's stories end there–alone with Kyle Mercer.

"Wanted to talk with you," you say, feeling an intense hunger writhing in your guts like a python, struggling to be unleashed. It would be so easy. You wouldn't even have to remember if you don't want to. "About the cult."

"Yeah," he says, nodding enthusiastically. "It's been… man, it's changed my life." He laughs but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Why the fuck isn't he scared of you? "It gave me a purpose. A goal. But I'm sure you know all about that." He's playing fucking games.

"Wanted to remind you who you work for," you say, voice low, barely above a growl. "Make sure you know who's in charge here."

Lawrence cocks his head like he doesn't know what you mean. "Really? That's easy. I work for the same thing you do. Virginia." He smiles. "The Dead Antlered God. That's what this is all about, isn't it?" A mocking edge slips into his words and makes your blood boil. "Or… maybe you're the one who needs to be reminded of that." Oh God… he's a true believer. No one more zealous than a convert, right?

Your heart beats for blood. Just a taste, just a cut. One little hole to open the deluge. It takes a lot of effort but you keep it in check

"That's how you got like this, isn't it?" Lawrence continues, undaunted, looking you over. "I mean… I knew you in school, Kyle. You weren't like this. Not until the end." He sounds a little sympathetic. "Things were bad for you and Candi, but then something changed, right? You found her." He nods toward the party and you realize he means Virginia. "She made you strong. She gave you something that made you strong, didn't she?"

He's less right than he thinks, but more right than not. What's the point of telling him any of that though? You say nothing.

"So… what are you going to do? Kick my ass? Threaten me?" Lawrence asks. "Why? Cause you don't think I'm good enough for your sister?"

Maybe he doesn't know about you and Candi. I wonder how he'd feel about that.


>[Make him regret talking to you like that]
>"You know I'm fucking her, right?"
>"There's a pecking order here, from Virginia, to my sister, to me. We call the shots."
>Write in

>>6318486
>Write in

I'm thinking Nemesis. What I was talking about to try a partial Sacred Form. Something very minor, like one claw to carve that triangle somewhere. Or in the eyes so that supernatural panic sets in and he runs off into the woods. He'd have to recruit a lot of people to earn Virginia's favor.

Although maybe it'd be better to nail it in that its more the right mentality, hes gone so long and never been caught. Kyle's got IT and Lawrence doesn't.

If Lawrence wants to have his eyes on Candi without us poking them out its simple. Ask him to pick a friend or family member, if he won't Kyle will, and when Kyle feels like it he'll go and rip them apart. Eat them. Every time Lawrence feels like acting smug or eyeing up Kyle's sister.

>>6318486
Feel like all the options are brutal. It’d be good to kick his ass or [get rid of him] but it’s kinda a bitch move before the party. Second option is too much, and option three makes Kyle seem like a total pussy.

>Write in
>No, you’re not good enough for Candi. She deserves better than you.

>>6318486
>[Make him regret talking to you like that]
We can't look like a bitch in front of our girl (sister)

>>6318486
>"Tell me what you really think."(You should be dancing)

>>6318486
Switching from
>>6318563
To
>>6318664

>>6318486
>[You Should be Dancing]. *shit-eating grin* I get it, man. I know what you really want, and it ain't her. Swing by my place tomorrow evening. We're going on a field trip.
It's not much of a soul, but it's a soul. A gift, a bargaining chip, maybe a distraction if things go bad.

Put Lawrence in his place I mean he's already acting smug enough to kick his ass so I'm not sure we need any more justification. Or if genuinely his motive is for Virginia to give him strength he's still lined up for correction.

I figure if we beat his ass he either falls in line, or because he thinks Virginia gave Kyle this strength he wants power and to replace Kyle himself. He keeps recruiting until he seriously falters and Kyle can kill him later. Probably replace him with Ani.

I was thinking a good display of power and killer mentality, or just making his friends and family on the line might keep him in line. Lawrence doesn't really understand what he's dealing with if he thinks Kyle just wants to beat him up or just threaten him.

Second option is really funny tho

>>6318811
getting physical with him in the here and now would be a BAD LOOK (tm). He knows this, he relies on it.

>"Tell me what you really think."(You should be dancing)
>>6318664
>>6318702

>Take Lawrence on a "Field Trip"
>>6318720

>[Make him regret talking to you like that]
>>6318663

>>6318720
For clarity, are you talking about sacrificing Lawrence to Virginia or killing him yourself?

In any case "Tell me what you really think seems to have it.

Writing

>>6318817
Lawrence can say 'what are you gonna do threaten me?' and I'd be fine testing that or trying something else to intimidate him even if we don't make an example of his private disrespect.

If his confidence is from being a true believer he should fear and respect the power that flows from Virginia, power that he isn't blessed with. Or that even if we don't feel like beating him up we can still kill anyone else hes close to to keep him in line. Why not try serious intimidation first is my point.

Though depending on what he says here he might just die now or whatever the follow ups will be.

You put the whammy on him. Metaphorically. Stepping closer you skin your lips back from your teeth. You get a small sense of gratification as his gaze flickers uncertainly down to them, a hint of fear in his eyes. "Tell me what you really think," you say, pushing your will onto him.

For a moment he seems to resist, like he might be immune, but no. He's still just human. A mere mortal.

"You're overly protective," he says. "And you don't trust anyone because of how much you got bullied in school. You're freaky and weird now and super intense." Lawrence doesn't hold back. "And I think you hate my guts because I'm trying to get back with your sister."

Well, all that's pretty true actually. Mostly.

You could cave his head in, tear out his throat–you could do a lot to him right now but it would be a Bad Look with the party going on. He's right in that you're both working for Virginia and she'd probably frown on such blatant infighting.

"You boys getting a long?" Candi asks, suddenly interposing herself between the two of you.

Your spell over Lawrence breaks and he blinks at you, a little surprised, then suddenly wary. "Yeah," he says.

You say nothing.

"You look a little cold," Candi says, frowning to Lawrence. "Here." She shrugs off his coat, baring her body to both of you again. She breaks out in goosebumps almost immediately and shivers dramatically, but makes no effort to cover herself.

"No, I'm good," Lawrence says, his attention flicking from Candi's tits to your face.

"Take it," Candi says gently, pressing it to his chest. "Thanks." She touches his arm. "But Kyle said I can wear his jacket." She looks expectantly at you.

You resist a sigh and pull off the leather, passing the NEMESIS coat to Candi. She pulls it on. It just barely covers everything. She smiles warmly at you and grabs your arm. "Kyle, come dance with me!"

You can't say 'no' to your sister and follow her out of the woods obediently, leaving Lawrence behind in the dark.

"You were really going to hurt him, weren't you?" she asks, still gripping your wrist and guiding you toward the house where music is pumping. She doesn't sound angry or accusatory. She sounds excited.

"Not here," you say.

"Good."

People part way for you. For all Lawrence's soft power and influence in the budding cult, Candi is the Priestess and everyone fears you, even if they don't know exactly what you are.

A bare dirt patch near the speakers in what was once a front yard has become a dancefloor. It's more swaying, head bobbing, grinding, not the sort of Disco swing shit Virginia does. "Dance," Candi commands.

Seeing as you can't refuse, you dance with your sister, swaying together in the dim half-light of the moon to grinding tunes. People can't help but watch, partly because of what Candi isn't wearing, partly because she's dancing with her brother like this, and partly because you're just a notable guy.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

Candi shrugs, turning her back to you, leaving you half-grinding on her.

"I thought you cared about what people think," you say.

"I do," she says. She makes a point of looking to her left. You look too and see Lawrence watching from the sidelines. "Don't you too?"

You say nothing.

"I mean… you could kiss me right now, right?" she says, reaching back to grab your hips. Just a couple inches closer and she'd be practically giving you a lap dance. "Didn't you make a big fucking deal about that?"

You did make a big deal about kissing her. But obviously you're not going to kiss your sister in front of the cult. That would be weird. Plus, who knows how people would react to that? Virginia herself is watching. She's sitting on the hood of a rusted out Ford truck, smoking and grinning. You're not going to implode her cult just to piss of Lawrence, are you?

You don't answer your sister.

Candi turns around again and moves a little closer, her eyes shine in the moonlight as she looks up at you. "You know…" she stands on her tiptoes, leaning into you so her breasts brush your chest through your jacket. "I'm going to dance with him too," she whispers in your ear.

You tense up, jaw clenched.

"Ralphie too," she says. You hear her tongue moving her in her mouth as she speaks, her lips almost brushing your ear. "Maybe other guys. That's what they want. They want your sister." She pulls away so you can see her face and lolls her tongue out seductively. Then, carefully, she places a tiny pink pill on it and swallows it with a rock of her head. Then she laughs. "You can go broody and pissed off wherever you want, but I'm here to have fun."


>I'm going to make you and everyone you dance with regret it
>Do whatever you want
>Kiss her
>Write in

>>6318895
She's trying to make you jealous. Go along with it and smile, "Darn, I'm sooo jealous Candi. Oh boy, you might incite a bloodbath. Oh no, please anything but thaaat. Not with EVERYONE watching." As guilty as she is by what she did to you, she is also super into attention, and bloodshed.

>>6318895
I don't really like any of these. First two feel weak and the third is just dancing to her tune. Maybe some sort of physical violence? Simply not letting her go? Bitch slap? It'll be a bad look but I don't think she'd expect it.

All else fails, the third option is still ok.

>>6318921
Way too catty bro.

>>6318895
>>I'm going to make you and everyone you dance with regret it

>>6318895
>Go dance with Virginia

>>6318832
I'm talking about a nice field trip to the old mine. Lawrence wants power, fine. Let's show him what power really feels like, up close and personal. He doesn't have what it takes to give up on himself and become a Vessel.
Alternately, a trip to the shadow realm to see the shoggothim.
>"Tell me what you really think seems to have it
and it's a shame because I meant to confront him on the fact that what he really wants is Candi's job
>>6318895
oh boy, this is just one of those situations that go pear-shaped no matter what, is it? Oh well.
best option is >>6319007
and maybe ask sis for a pill

>>6318895
>>Kiss her

>>6318895
>Kiss her

>(Write in) Play along with her attempt to bait you
>>6318921

>Threat
>>6318938

Dance with VA
>>6319007
>>6319020

>Kiss her
>>6319068
>>6319111
>>6318928


Writing

Fuck it. She wants to have fun, why not give her a hand?

You grab your sister by the shoulders and lean in for a kiss. You see her eyes fly wide in shock and she barely manages to pull away, shoving you back. Your lips only just brush her cheek.

Well, unless you meant to make your sister very very angry it seems like this might have been a miscalculation. Candi's eyes flash with fury. You see hate mixed with embarrassment. Shame. Oh, she's pissed. Ah, and everyone is looking over here. This is uncomfortable suddenly.

"You're high," Candi says, loud enough that everyone can hear. She pulls your coat off and shoves it back at you angrily. "Go for a walk."

Well, you can't say 'no' so you turn around and walk off, vaguely aware of Lawrence moving up to check on Candi. As you put distance between yourself and your horribly embarrassed sister, the party returns to life a little bit.

You make your way through the crowd, ignoring the uneasy glances and whispers. You've got your eyes fixed on the woods ahead. The darkness of the Pines beckons to you. You could lose yourself there. Lose your humanity, shed this loose skin and become something brand new.

Ralphie meets you first. "Man, you alright?"

You give him a blank look.

He smiles weakly, a little uncertain. "That was your sister, bro."

Humiliating. Would it be less humiliating to say "I know?" Somehow I doubt it. Instead you say nothing.

Ralphie puts an arm across your shoulders. "Come here, dude. Let's hang." He takes you away from the main party and finds a fallen Pine log, gestures for you to sit. You watch the part from afar as Ralphie rustles around in his coat pockets, producing a blunt and lighter. He passes it to you and offers the lighter.

You spark up, inhaling as you watch Candi put Lawrence's jacket back on and dance with him.

"You alright?" Ralphie asks.

You're seeing red right now. You'd love to pass your claws through flesh and sink your teeth into meat. "Yeah. Just…" You take hold of Candi's lie. "Had too much."

Ralphie laughs and you pass him the blunt. He takes a hit, holding it until his eyes water before letting it out. "Yeah," he says. "You always hit it hard." There's a sympathetic pause. "Everything good, dude?" He means *everything*.

Obviously not. Why else would you be at a cult afterparty in the woods trying to kiss your sister. "Yeah." A lie is easier.

"Your sister man," Ralphie says, shaking his head. "She's a lot, huh?"

You give him a sharp look.

He holds up his hands meekly. "I mean she's like uh… she's a firecracker, right?"

You know he means she's a slut. "Really don't want to talk about it." You take the blunt and take another hit. At least you're starting to feel a little calmer. You recall chasing Candi through the woods, the way she laughed as she ran from you. Now she's grinding on Lawrence to some weird ass dance music, Virginia's vaporwave.

"Sorry." Ralphie watches your sister with envious, hungry eyes. "But… I mean, you can't protect her forever. I mean I know you care about her but… she's a grown ass adult now."

If Ralphie had sense, he'd stop talking about your sister. But he's a little too stoned to see how fucking angry you are. Or at least too stoned to realize why you're mad.

"Let's not talk about it." You grind the words out through clenched teeth. You don't want to hurt Ralphie, but you will. That's just the type of guy you are.

"Sure." Ralphie blows smoke, making your view of the party hazy. "You know, I miss playing Halo with you, dude. Hanging out and shit."

Yeah. You miss it too. A small respite from your hell life.

"You know, maybe you need to like… get out there more, you know?" He says. "You're so, like, shut in. With my mom in her own place now… I got a spare bedroom. If you want to like… come be roomies or something."

You look at him, unable to mask your surprise at the offer.

He shrugs. "I mean, it's not exactly party central but people come over for bud and shit. We play games and hang. Chicks come over and sometimes they don't pay with cash." You flashes you a boyish grin.

Yeah, chicks like your sister.

"I mean I'm just saying, you're single right?" Ralphie presses. When you don't answer he continues. "You could meet cute chicks. They won't even care about your scars and shit, dude. They're cool."

It would mean getting away from your sister. Whether or not that's a good thing is up to you to decide. You'd already run out on her once. Maybe doing it again will teach her a lesson. Who knows how she'd react to that, but maybe a change is what you need.


>I appreciate it, but I'll pass
>Sure, Maybe moving out would do me some good
>If you want to do me a favor, stay away from Candi
>Write in

>>6319147
>I appreciate it, but I'll pass

>>6319149
>Sure, Maybe moving out would do me some good.
Thos incest thing with Candi is just her throwing Kyle pity sex and punishing herself. Kyle is still doing it out of spite and horniness but needs to move on, not escalate, or he's going end up killing Candi and allowing their Dad to hurt them even though he's dead.

>>6319147
ultracringe
>>6319170
I mean, you're not wrong but.. I don't see this thing between them ever getting resolved, except by divine intervention maybe
Is that what this is? Virginia unfucking mr. Boogieman?

>>6319170
I disagree. Kyle tried moving on and moving out before. It didn't work and Candi 'called' him back though we haven't quite pieced together how yet. Shes crazy, wants him to chase her though clearly not in public lol, gets off on the psycho killer energy. Unfortunately she also enjoys making Kyle jealous while forgetting that he can be extremely unhinged. Combine that with a weird magical bond where they are slowly merging some aspects of identity like tastes, as Candi's sudden taste for blood, to some degree?

They're fucked up and they should just lean into it. Though dancing with Virginia where they both just make each other jealous was probably the best where every other option was unfortunate lol.

>>6319149
>I appreciate it, but I'll pass
>Leave the party and find someone to kill.
FFS, not sure why people would vote for that brain dead move, lovely.

>>6319238
>Leave the party and find someone to kill.
there's an entire backlog of Junior's goons to clear
seconding this
can't exactly leave the premises right now, what with Virginia living there

>>6319186
If Kyle gets a new soul... maybe I think. Kyle is just angry and intense, thats the Pale Thing peeking through. If we got rid of it... Kyle might actually be worse off, think Empty Kyle. Kyle is a Vessel, and while a full fledged Soul is ideal, maybe Virginia can stuff us with something more than just Pale Thing in the meantime. Like, we have Kyle's old music. Maybe we could have her use that to lut an Echo of our old self inside us, like the rebar before poured concrete or a fake fireplace screensaver instead of a real bonfire.

>>6319149
>>6319238
Can we actually retconn this kiss stuff. It’s actually such a terrible decision and is going to colour every interaction for the next 10 updates if not further. I wasn’t around to vote against it.

>>6319386
it's not so bad
the psycho-sexual relationship with sis is a problem now and probably was THE problem that made K leave
it has to be solved one way or another
killing her won't do anything good btw, although it is certainly on the table as far as our boy is concerned

>>6319346
it's not just the pale thing
sis bound him to her
she can act as bratty as she would like, he will still defend her, he's her little soldier boy
the provocations are part her subconsciously trying to cast him into the role of Father (a dangerous being to be controlled by way of fawning and painful sex) and part sheer guilt as other anons have remarked
of course, she also wants other men, hence the current conflict

>I appreciate it, but I'll pass
>>6319152
>>6319238
>>6319246

+

>Find someone to kill
>>6319238
>>6319246

Writing

>>6319386
>retconn
Can only move forward, can't go back no matter how much we want to. Things will always get worse.

You've already run away once. Somehow you doubt it will help to try again. Not to mention there's no telling what Candi will do while you're gone. Things would only get worse. You sit on the log and watch her dancing with Lawrence and feel nothing but white-hot rage boiling in your heart. Beneath your anger and your resentment is a star-like core of primal joy. A deep dark part of you that really *likes* this. It's time to give in to that hunger again.

"I appreciate it," you say, rising to your feet and passing the joint back to Ralphie a final time. "But I'll pass. They need me to help pay the bills." A flimsy excuse, but true enough.

Ralphie shrugs. "Open offer, man. At least stop by and play Halo."

There's no thrill to it because the blood is digital. You pull your jacket on.

"Leaving?"

"I think I'd better," you say. "See you around."

You set off, circling the clearing toward the trailhead which leads back to home. As you walk, you stare coldly at the cultists dancing and partying, celebrating their newfound iota of power and freedom. The LED string lights make your eyes glitter as you meet your sister's pale gaze.

She's smiling without a care in the world, her hands on Lawrence's shoulders, his hands around her waist. Her smile dims when she sees you looking at her. It's hard to say exactly what she feels, but it's not anger. If you had to guess, by the way her eyes widen slightly, you'd say it was fear.

You look away and forge into the woods, boots crackling twigs and crunching pine needles.

"Had enough for one night, Boogieman?" Virginia is sitting on a stump ahead of you, legs crossed, cigarette in her lips. The cherry reflects on her glasses as she takes a long drag. She seems younger to you than she did when you first met her, and it's not just the new clothes. She seems less like an old soul in an ageless body and more like … something reborn. Something growing, springing forth like a flower pushing through a cap of frost or mushrooms sprouting on the desiccated corpse of a deer.

You don't bother to answer, you just let her pull the answer from your mind.

Virginia frowns slightly. "That bad, huh?"

You pull on your jacket. "I've got places to be, people to see."

"People ain't no one else gonna see again?" she hazards.

Again, silence speaks for you.

"We can fix it," she says, lowering her tone. "I mean fix what's sick with you. Get that little parasite out of you."

Rude. It's like she doesn't know you at all, not like I do. She doesn't know how much you really like having me around. You like having someone who gets you, who lets you really be yourself, someone who doesn't judge. But… we don't need to dwell on the negatives right now, do we?

"I know," you say. She made it clear that you could be rid of the Pale Thing that wormed its way into you only with the procurement of another soul, a powerful one. A tall order which you haven't really taken much time to consider yet. If it comes up, I'm sure you'll figure it out.

Virginia stands up and approaches you. Without warning she puts her arms around you and pulls you into a hug. She's not as short as your sister, she still doesn't quite reach eye to eye with you so her face nuzzles into your neck. "I know it ain't easy," she says, murmuring against your skin. "But… you ever need something, come see me, 'kay?" Then she releases you, leaving the smell of Marlboros lingering around you.

"Make sure Candi doesn't get into trouble," you say. "She's popping pills."

Virginia inclines her head slightly. "I'll keep a real good eye on her. You be careful, Boogieman. I still need you." Despite the cold practicality of her words, there's an undeniable warmth there, an affection.

You step around Virginia and continue on. When you look back, she's gone, only a thin cloud of smoke remains.

It's time to ice another one of Chip's cronies. Ken was the first–sort of. He was never the same after what you did to him the first time you cut loose. Jeff was next. Ah… that felt good. Of course, thinking about feeding your sister his blood just reminds you of the fact that you promised her she could come on the next one. Guess you lied.

Besides Chip himself, that leaves three little indians.

David.
Allan.
Arthur.

All are interchangeable as far as you're concerned. Bullies, cowards, gluttons. Weak. Afraid.

Meat.

Arbitrarily, you pick Allan as the next. You pause in the dark and close your eyes, thinking of him, knowing that he knows your name. He's definitely spoken of the devil before. The rustle of pines is replaced with the hum of tires on asphalt and muffled bass music.

When you open your eyes you're in Lasker City–the parking lot of Bottoms Up. The strip club is a small windowless structure lined with neon. The huge sign out front has a silhouette of a naked woman by a martini glass. Busy night. The lot is packed with cars but there's no one else out here.

You stay utterly still, sweeping the parking lot with your eyes until you're satisfied it's truly empty. That verdict is overturned a moment later when the door opens, spilling a garish pink light that matches the mood lighting in your sister's bedroom. Booming dance music echoes into the night as a handful of men and two women emerge.

The men you know. It's the very guys you were looking for, including Chip. All of them are here along with two women you presume to be strippers by their inadequate clothing. One you know as Crystal, she served you breakfast and champagne last time you came here. From the way Crystal staggers along, she's either unused to walking in twelve-inch heels or a little drunk or maybe both. She has a fake smile on to match her fake tits.

"Fucking stupid," David says, sniffing. You think maybe he was crying but he keeps rubbing his nose in a way that makes it seem as if his nasal issue is chemically induced. "Jeff knew not to fucking dip into his own shit."

"Whatever's done is done," Chip snaps back. He's got a girl on his shoulder. God, he looks like hell. His eyes are ringed with exhaustion, puffy and red. Maybe he *has* been crying. "Police aren't going to link it to us. My dad cares at least that much."

They cross the lot together, gathering around Chip's yellow sportscar.

"Just don't piss him off," David says.

Chip shrugs, fumbling in his pocket for his keys.

"Nemesis."

The hair on the back of your neck stands up at the hissed whisper. It's directed straight at you. You can't help but looking around, tearing your attention from Bottoms Up to the miserable commercial sprawl around it. Everything is dark. Not even the streetlamps are lit. The whole city seems to be sleeping. Or dead. The street is devoid of traffic. The traffic lights just blink yellow.

"Nemesis."

You see it, the gleam of eyes in the dark, an alleyway across the street. Someone stands in the entryway in an oversized hoodie watching you. Two someones. One of them has a skateboard under their arm, but their features are lost in their dark hoods, just the gleaming gems of their eyes shining in the horrible pink of the strip club's neon. They're hollow. Looming behind them is a spray-painted smiley face two stories tall, filling the entire alley, beaming emptily out at you, its black dead eyes locked on yours.

A car door slams and your attention snaps back to Chip. He's in the car now with his gang and a girl. Not everyone got in. Allan is sitting on the bumper of a supped up 4x4 truck, KC lights, tractor tires, even a CB whip antenna. Of course it's spotless. Performative masculinity. He's got Crystal with him.

"Don't run up a bill," Chip calls to him as he starts his car with a purr.

Allan laughs and waves him off.

You look back at the alleyway. Those kids are gone, but their totemic sigil remains, watching you unblinkingly.

Chip's car pulls out on Lasker's empty street and growls away, leaving Allan and his apparent date who he wastes no time on, burying his face into her cleavage, one hand locked manacle-like on her wrist.

Crystal's laughter is stilted and forced. "Ha ha, stop. Stooop. Ha ha." She's miserable and he isn't stopping. His hands are all over her, legs and chest. "Please stop," she says with a little more sincerity.

It's time to Take him. How?


>Hunt him in Sacred Form. Make it a sport.
>Take him out the old fashioned way. Make it brutal.
>Bring him back to Candi. Make it an offering.
>Write in

>>6319610
>Get a grip. You are being watched by the cult here. Find some homeless randos instead.

>>6319609
I mean its really sus for another of Chip's buddies to die like a day after one OD'd.

>Write in
Make it look like they eloped and never came back. Make it believable.

We get in the car, tell them Chip has given Kyle a Job and use You Should be Dancing to get them to drive the car somewhere private. Knock them both out. Dump Allen tied up for later. Drive the car away like its Allen and the hooker stripper eloping. Dump the car somewhere hidden. Kill the stripper for Kyle's parasite and hide the body. Hmm I wonder if Kyle can actually teleport with a corpse since its not a person and he can bring anything hes carrying? It would make hiding bodies a lot easier.

Surely they were in love the whole time and kept it secret. The drugs and violence and then a buddy dies, it was too much and they had to escape. Its at least not two more dead bodies in as many days, just missing or eloped.

Speak of the Devil back to Allen, and take him back home.

Offering it to Candi after she acts fucking crazy by prodding Kyle just so she can get excited? Like I want to work on their relationship Nemesis but she acts up so damn much. Maybe Kyle could be the big man and hes feeling good knowing he gets to torture and kill another of Chip's buddies, but you make it so hard man.

>>6319685
>but you make it so hard man
You choose to romance your sister not because it is easy, but because it is hard

>>6319608
>"Had enough for one night, Boogieman?"
I fuckin called it

>>6319666
>Get a grip.
Yeah. Preferably on a skater punk.

>>6319610
>Write in
>Cut the car's breakline while he's busy

>Get a grip
>>6319666
>>6319708

Write in. Going to interpret this a little. Have faith, anons.

They say discretion is the better part of valor. I don't know how much discretion you really have, but valor is certainly not in your repertoire. You turn away from Allan's imposition on Crystal. As much as you'd love to intervene you can't do it while you're being watched. Instead, you cross the street toward the dark alley.

You walk beneath a dead streetlamp and then beneath that totemic symbol of the Thing in the Lake. It smiles emptily. Dead, crazed black eyes stare furiously down at you. You pass by it and into the dark alley. Aside from a dumpster and some empty spray cans, it's deserted. You keep walking, following the only path those kids could have taken.

Eventually the alley empties onto another street, this one a six-lane commercial thoroughfare flanked by strip malls and other urban in-fill. The streetlamps are out here too. Everything is dark and silent. There's no traffic and no people.

You pause and look around. Not even junkies or bums in the gutter.

You start walking again, this time turning left, paralleling the empty street. There's a car ahead, stopped at an intersection. It's strange since the traffic lights aren't even flashing here, they're just out. It's stranger still when you see the driver's door of the car is open.

There's no one inside. You pause and stick your head in. The keys are in the ignition, but the car is inert. Abandoned. Dead. From the looks of it, it's out of gas and has been for a while.


You hear a clatter and pull back, turning around. There's a convenience store behind you, its towering roadside marquee is dark, as is the interior. Like the car, it's doors are open. There's someone inside, there's got to be. Maybe those kids. Your instincts tell you to pursue—I tell you to pursue—but something anchors you here. Yeah, obviously it feels wrong, extremely wrong. An entire city block is deserted and shut down. Even for an urban corpse like Lasker it's wrong. But… I can tell you that if you're dreaming this, you're not alone. This is reality. Or at least it's real enough.

You have the reassuring weight of a nine mil pistol tucked in your back waistband, not to mention your boot knife and—all else fails—the inner promise of the Sacred Form. You're not afraid.

That open door beckons and you finally obey the call.

You walk right up to the doorway and stop, peering into the darkness. It's silent inside. No muzak, no humming fridge compressors and AC units. As your eyes adjust you see one of the skate punks standing at the far end of the building, half-silhouetted against the dim reflection on the glass drink case.

The hoodie prevents you from making out any specific features, but from their build they can't be older than fifteen. They're hollow. Whatever that means.

As you stand there watching each other you find yourself startled to discover that you don't feel anything as you look at them, no hunger. It's like a carnivore looking at a veggie burger. There's nothing there you're interested in. Nothing at all.

"Who are you?" you ask.

No answer.

"Are you working for Truesdale?"

The kid makes a sound, an exhalation. Sounds like a laugh. But they don't move.

"Why did you call me Nemesis?" Even as you voice the question, you know you won't get an answer. You're also starting to doubt this kid actually said that. The only thing to ever call you that besides Dad were those Drowned Monsters you see from time to time, the slaves of the Thing in the Lake. Whatever this kid is, it's not a monster. Not quite. It's definitely flesh and blood, living and breathing just like you are.

The standoff continues, the kid deep in the empty store and you at the threshold. It doesn't inspire you to feed, but you can still kill it.


>Kill it
>Fuck this, go home
>Go hunt elsewhere. Find something that suits you.
>Write in

>>6320881
>>Go hunt elsewhere. Find something that suits you.

>>6320881
>Write in
take a second look with the second-sight. what does the Veil look like 'round these parts?

>>6320881
>Write in
Talk to it. See if the Thing in the Lake answers.

It must HATE Truesdale for being able to use its power like he does. Like a wacky stock market. It wants a Vessel, much like Kyle's Dad wanted to make Candi a Vessel, probably so it could kill Truesdale and work on getting out.

In order to get that ultimate ending where Kyle keeps his blood powers he'd need to sacrifice an avatar/vessel holding the power of the Lake Thing. Right now the only such avatar is Kyle's old teacher, and he probably doesn't want to sacrifice her even if she might do it if it meant saving Kyle. So the only other way I could see him achieving this is by using the same markings and putting them on someone strong enough to handle it, Truesdale.

To actually learn how to do that I suppose he either gets it from his teacher, steals it from the Cult/get Truesdale to teach him, or get the Lake Thing to give him that knowledge.

>>6320989
the Lake Thing has zero chill, I don't think letting it loose is a good idea
also Truesdale is probably a lich so killing him might get complicated
but yea, talk to it, why not

>>6320881
>Talk to it.

We need to know what we're dealing with. Sure, we could try to ssk Virginia but its better if we don't lean on her for ALL our info.

>>6320989
>>6321163
>>6321248

>Talk

Writing

You take a little look around to see just how fucked the Veil is here and… that's the thing, it's not too bad. I mean, it's thin, but like Virginia said, it's thin all over. You're starting to see thin as normal. Was it always like this? Has it gotten worse? Either way, that you're seeing isn't a hallucination. It just is.

"I want to talk," you say.

"It doesn't talk," the voice hisses from the darkness of the store. Somehow you don't think the kid said that.

"It listens," another voice whispers from within.

The one kid you can see cocks his head to the side as if waiting for an answer.

"You're that Thing at the bottom of the Lake, aren't you?" you say.

That soft, mocking laugh again.

"I recognize you," you say with a dark surety. "You stink and I smell it."

"Meat-thing."
"Apostate."
"*Nemesis*."

I guess you struck a nerve.

You put a big, toothy grin on your face. The shiny scar tissue on your cheek reflects the moonlight. "Apostate? Me? I never signed up to work for you, dickhead."

The kids say nothing.

"The Apostate is Truesdale. Or do you like being chained up and hauled out of the water to give the Q4 financial reports and pay off beach house mortgages?"

The Veil ripples as though something enormous and unfathomable moved on the Other Side. Yeah, I'd say it doesn't like that.

The kids remain silent but you can feel their displeasure, their fury, their hate. Surprisingly, a lot of it seems to be directed squarely at you. I mean… assuming Dad was a sort of Vessel for the Lake Thing and assuming he was trying to make Candi into a new Vessel… you really put a crimp on that plan when you killed him, didn't you? That would sort of make you the one that ruined its plans. Not only are you the One That Slipped Away but you're also the one that guaranteed it more years of servitude.

"You want Truesdale dead," you say. "Me too."

There's a chorus of indistinct whispers in the dark, voices on this side and the Other in congregation. Before you get an answer, the otherworldly silence of this dead city block is broken by approaching wheels.

Not car tires, polyurethane on pavement.

To your right, a block away, a quartet of kids on skateboards roll to a stop, halting beneath a street lamp. The lamp flickers on to illuminate them, as if making sure you know they're there.

Back in the convenience store, the three punks inside have moved up, clustered around the doorway, watching you. Their faces are pale in the moonlight, slack, expressionless. Hollow.

"The Veil is eroding," the one in the middle says, his voice a whisper, like he's afraid of being overhead. "The Lake is leaking. The Dreamer will awake. The End will come. The Beginning will follow."

What do you even say to that? You go with old reliable and say nothing.

"Kill the Vessel," the kid says. It's a command. He means Miss Ellen.

You shake your head. "Not doing that."

"Selena." The name feels foreign in the kid's mouth. "Pengrove."

The silver dress woman from the Lake Party. The one who gave you her phone number—a number you never called.

"What about her?"

"Call."

The kids move toward you suddenly, brushing past with casual indifference. They jog and hop onto their boards, gliding rapidly to join the other four—oh, sorry—the other *ten* kids gathered under the lone streetlamp. The moment they reach that circle of light it snaps off, drowning them all in shadow.

Now you're alone. It's time to go hunt for real. We're fucking starving. Aside from eating, what else are you going to do? You can explore a bit before going to eat. This place is a little odd. Otherwise you can call Selena after you're done or go home and face the music.


>Go home
>Call Selena
>Explore this dead zone
>Write in

>>6321328
>Explore this dead zone

Any good loot? Cartons of cigs to throw in a trash bag, maybe? Ho ho ho!

>>6321328
>Explore this dead zone
We love exploring

>>6321321
>I never signed up to work for you, dickhead.
Dear old daddy did though. So maybe this thing has a thing about families.
>>6321328
yes, call, but not before filling in Virginia on the situation
for now we explore

>>6321328
>>Explore this dead zone

>Explore
Nothing bad ever happened on account of simple curiosity.

Writing

The dead zone is about two blocks across. You discover this through a little old-fashioned wandering. When you reach the edges of the zone you find power, traffic, people going about their lives as if a chunk of their city hadn't necrosed right under their noses.

Lasker City was never vibrant—never in your life time anyway—but it was better than this.

"Hey, you got a dolla—" the bum who calls out to you chokes on the last word when you look at him. He's on his feet and gone. That's a guy with some sense. You stand on the edge of a street, watching a bus trundle by, and then turn back into the dead zone. There's no change in the Veil.

First stop, an apartment building. The front door is barred glass, very secure against forced entry and controlled through an intercom buzzer. Something powerful has crashed through it at some point, wrenching bars aside and shattering glass. You step through the threshold and check the building. Every apartment door has been battered open. Every apartment has been looted. What little food you do find is moldy and rotten, but most of it is gone. Valuables like TVs are missing too. There are some bullet holes in some of the walls.

Oh, and everyone you find is dead. There aren't many and they're desiccated, lightly dusted with beetles and maggots. They've been dead a while.

An adult video store nearby is much the same. Only the windows are boarded up and barricaded. You spend a few minutes trying to get inside, jangling the doors which are chained from the inside. Finally you give up.

Back at the convenience store you found the kids in, the shelves are all mostly barren. The glass-door fridge smells sickly sweet, like fermenting soda. The floors are sticky with dried sugar water, burst cans scattered around.

There's a spent shotgun shell behind the counter, but no gun and no dead clerk.

Other places are just plain empty. Food is left sitting on tables, rotten and crumbling, drinks scummed over with algae. It's like people just vanished, stood up and marched off. Cars are left sitting in the middle of roads, ignitions on, gas tanks empty.

There's also graffiti. Lots of it. So much that you're not even sure it's just those hollow kids leaving it. Smiley faces abound along with other more esoteric runes and sigils. It's somehow both sadly modern and alarmingly primitive—neo-tribal. Finding a deserted ABC store, its floor a sea of broken glass and its walls an endless, twisted mural of occult imagery feels like finding wall paintings in some forgotten cavern. It feels….

You don't feel much fear, being as you are, but… you're starting to feel it now. It's a sensation of being very, very small. You don't like it. I don't like it either. This is the sort of shit it's really best not to fuck with or question. In fact, I think we've had enough.

You're starting to agree.

When you step back outside, it's pure black, nearly. The low, gauzy dark sky is rimmed with the sick yellow haze of the surrounding city lights. It feels like you're in the middle of an urban tumor growing in the heart of a sick city.

Now, as interesting as all this is, I think it's time we get what we both really want.

You agree.

There's nothing to hunt here, but a few blocks away you find someone no one will miss. You don't even need to make a play at civility, at humanity. You just chase them. They run, but not far enough, not fast enough. They're afraid, but your knife makes sure they don't feel afraid anymore ever again. Then…. Oh that sweet red release.

It's been too long, Kyle. It feels like forever. Stalking Allan really got your heart pumping, worked up an unhealthy appetite. You sort of lose a little control out here in the dark, echoing hell of Lasker City. Hey, it's not my fault! You've really been restricting yourself too much. I don't make the rules, I just live by them slavishly. And now, so do you.

When you finally step out of the front door of the singlewide trailer, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and smear sticky red across your skin. Oh. Look. We're in a trailer park. How did that happen?

You look around, a little disoriented. How many people did we take tonight, do you think? Well… at least two but… probably more.

You look back at the trailer. No, you don't want to go back in there. There's nothing left worth seeing. In fact, it might be kind of embarrassing just to see how much you gave in to your hunger. Our hunger.

Remember though, it's important. It serves a purpose. You're paying the price. Besides, you had a good time. Yeah, you feel that electric thrill running through your veins like current through a power line. It feels good. Really good. That should tide you over for a little while too. You're welcome.

You look around and see that, although you're in a trailer park, you're still on the outskirts of Lasker. You also see that it's dawn. The sun is starting to rise. Probably best to get out of here. You sheath your knife, ignoring the pleasant ache in your jaw, and close your eyes. First stop: home.

You open them and find yourself in the front yard of the Mercer house. You need a shower, you're all red. Also, it's morning so you might want to think about going to work. Your call. Weirdly, you're not tired at all. It's like sleep is optional and you chose not to check that box tonight. You start forward and stop.

The Eagle is here. The pickup is here. There's another car here too. Lawrence's car.

Lawrence's car is parked right beside your Eagle. This is not a dream. This is very real.

You operate on instinct, starting for the house and up the steps of the porch before nearly running into Virginia.

She's standing in front of the door like she was expecting you. She wasn't there before. She's getting a lot stronger. "Kyle, don't go in," she says. Her words are low, neutral, more of a firm suggestion than a command.

You move to push past her but she stops you with a hand on your chest. "He ain't here," she says more firmly. "He just left his car here."

You give her a sharp look. "What the fuck do you mean 'he left his car here'? Where is he?"

"Friends took him home," Virginia says. "He wasn't fit to drive. Candi told him to park here overnight and he could come back and get it tomorrow."

You're dripping red onto the porch, staring coldly into her pink shades. Virginia looks down at you and then… the blood is gone. Like it was never there. Clean as a whistle.

"He ain't here," she says more firmly. "I reckon what you need is some time to be cool, honey." She sounds a little concerned. You're not sure if that's for your sake or Candi's. You weren't really looking forward to that confrontation anyway, after what happened it's going to be unpleasant…for both of you.


>Move out of the way, Virginia. I'm going inside.
>Fine. I trust you.
>He's got to go, Virginia. He can't stay in the cult
>Write in

>>6321734
No powers from our latest hunt?

Idk man maybe talk with Virginia for a bit I don't really feel like this is a cool your heads off moment even if I do trust Virginia.

-Candi- told him to park here, because she knew Kyle would see it. She got excited watching Kyle be a hot second away from ripping and tearing even before what she said while dancing. Shes keeping secrets. She knew Chip could make people do things, she knew about Ani. Virginia has been in her head. Does she really think Candi is going to know any regret and remorse in the morning. That shes not going to keep doing this shit. She is almost as bad a their father forcing Kyle into a position to hurt and be hurt, not only in his current existence but in their personal relationship. Should Candi hear that from him or not? She knows it and what does she do for the guilt but pills and magic and her social bullshit.

We have had this Cult for 5 minutes and Kyle's life is actually just worse for it in every tangible and emotional way. Virginia can look at him from outside and from inside and see if thats genuinely true.

If the only workable solution to kill Lawrence, and then the next lawrence and the one after that?

Maybe Kyle could just trust Virginia this time and leave it at that if its earned. That doesn't make everything else fine.

>>6321852
>No powers from our latest hunt?
Nope, just topping off the old tanks. I'm saving the new powers for Special Occasions.

>>6321852
>If the only workable solution to kill Lawrence, and then the next lawrence and the one after that?
yeah it's not sustainable, or fun
neither is hunting exclusively in Lasker, especially seeing how the Lake Thing is also feeding on it
how long until the whole place becomes a disaster area with TLAs crawling all over it, at this rate?
>>6321734
>Write in
>Fuck Lawrence, he just wants Candi's job anyway. We need to talk about the Lake Thing and why it feels like I owe it loyalty.

No update today or tomorrow. I have obligations I can't get out of. Feel free to think up creative punishments for Candi or ways to win her undying affection forever.

See you Monday

>>6322185
>+1 to this
Bigger... fish gods to fry.

>Talk with Virginia

Writing

>>6322314
Letting her be at their mother's mercy while she's chained up in the basement, shed hate that. She always has control when she brings Kyle on the stream so I suppose tying her up and letting them see how she really is with Kyle secretly recording. Or he records her and holds that over her head, he'll upload something from the pile when she acts fucking ceazy. If Virginia can create a nice dream for both, I imagine she can create a nightmare. Or just pull them both into a dream which makes anything particularly punishing not permanent with Kyle as the movie monster/killer antics. Virginia can probably pull from Kyle's mind just like he can Candis. Show Candi what Kyle and Ani were up to but she can only watch. Candi was somehow always worried about their mother seeing as well. The line between punishment and her affection is sometimes a little blurry but I trust Kyle to figure it out eventually. So I figure just pull from the pile of punishment as needed, starting as soon as possible.

"You really think she's gonna change between then and now?" you ask. I sure don't.

Virginia shakes her head. "I'm worried. State you're in, you're liable to kill her."

You laugh. In hindsight it's an odd reaction to a serious concern. I mean… we *could* kill her, let's be honest. And we'd have fun doing it. "I've come a lot closer than this," you growl, refusing to imagine that joyous moment. The Final Bite.

Virginia is unintimidated. "That may be, but I need both of yall alive. I *like* both of yall alive too," she adds.

"Then why didn't you stop her?" you ask. It comes out… kind of sad, kind of defeated, beat down.

Virginia looks sympathetic but, "cause that ain't how I operate, honey. I let people make their own beds."

"And if I went up there to slit her throat? Would you stop me?"

Virginia doesn't look away. She also doesn't say anything.

You shake your head, dismissing this petty high school bullshit. "Fuck him. Fuck Lawrence," you say. "You know why he's doing this."

Virginia nods. "I do."

Well, at least she's honest. "He's just after her job. He wants what she has. What *we* have."

"Lawrence ain't never had an ounce of power his whole life," Virginia says. "Not that different from you or Candi that way."

You don't appreciate being compared to that shitheel and Virginia sees as much so she quickly holds up a placating hand. "Kyle, his faith is genuine. And can you really say you're helping me just out of the goodness of your heart?" She gives you a hard look. "Seems like I recall a little friction between you and I at the start."

"Can't blame me for not putting blind faith in you from day one," you say. "I don't make a habit of trusting strange gods."

She sighs and shakes her head. "He's harmless. I mean, he ain't gonna hurt Candi. I think there's more of a chance of you doin that than him."

She's got a point, but who cares? Just whose fucking side is she on anyway? I guess she's on her own side. That shuts you up. Not much point in pleading your case to the unsympathetic.

Virginia frowns sympathetically "Aw, come on, baby," she says. She reaches out to take your hands in hers, taking a quick twirl with you on the porch. Her hair swirls, her eyes lighting up playfully. "Why's it always got to be so serious with you? Can't we just have a good time?"

Usually your business is a pleasure, but lately things haven't been going smooth. All this cult shit has eaten into your total freedom a little. You're not in the dancing mood. Can't you just eat your own tail in peace?

"We've got bigger problems," you say, again trying to put all that aside.

"We do?" Virginia looks at you curiously.

"You know why there's a dead spot in Lasker?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Dead? Whatchu mean?"

"Everyone's dead," you say. "Everyone. Everything's abandoned. Looks like it's been that way for … I dunno, a week or two?"

Virginia purses her lips, considering it. "No, baby. Don't know a thing about that. Lasker always been a rough place. Maybe it's starting to rot." She doesn't really sound concerned.

You shake your head. "No. It's not natural. I mean, something made it like that. Could the Lake Thing be hunting out there?"

She looks a little more concerned, but mostly just confused. "Hunting? Naw. I mean… it don't work like that, baby. That slimy little fish head got everything it needs from its little cult."

But does it? You know from experience that things are less than ideal from its point of view. Anyway, you ignore her objections. "I had a little run in with some of its… adherents. They were teenagers. Kids. They were all fucked up."

"Like how? Like… you?" she asks as delicately as she can.

"Hollow."

"Hollow?" She blinks and you nod. "What do you mean?"

You can only shake your head, frustrated that she doesn't know what you're talking about. "Something's wrong with them. They spoke for it. They seemed to think I owed the Lake Thing loyalty."

"Well, I reckon that's cause it was lining you or Candi up to be it's next Vessel," Virginia says. "Crying shame is you two were stronger than it was expecting." There's no small amount of glee and pride in her words.

You can smell blood and gun smoke, see Dad's brains dripping from the roof of the barn. Good times!

Pieces suddenly click in Virginia's mind. "Hold up, you were talkin to those things?" She seems suddenly much more concerned. "Kyle, I told you, that Lake Thing–"

"Is nothing but trouble, I know," you say. You don't bother to tell her that you don't see the harm in keeping your options open. From the look on her face, it seems like she's realized that all on her own. Or maybe pulled it from your mind.

It's an awkward moment. "You're still gonna kill Karlsson–" she shakes her head, correcting herself. "Truesdale… right?"

"Obviously." No question.

She continues studying your face. Is she jealous? Worried? Afraid? Angry? It's hard to say. You're not even sure she knows. "Kyle, I never asked you to be exclusive to me," she says finally. "But… you really gotta be careful playing with that. It's…" she doesn't say 'nothing but trouble', but she almost does. "It's dangerous," she says finally.

Yeah, but dangerous for you? Or dangerous for her?


>Can you really blame me for shopping around? This whole cult thing hasn't exactly got me much but promises and trouble
>Don't worry, I'm not betraying you. I'm just gathering information
>Say nothing
>Write in

>>6324314
It's like you really want to destroy your sister.

>>6324352
>Don't worry, I'm not betraying you. I'm just gathering information. Only bothered with those kids because I didn't need witnesses sending news of me killing one of Chip's buddies back to Truesdale.

>>6324352
>Don't worry, I'm not betraying you. I'm just gathering information

I don't want Kyle to look like a fish inside or out that comes with its dumb power. Kyle is the one fighting and killing here none of the cult are reliable killers, and they'd just make a mess of things that gets them all killed. Which means it's Kyle that has to gather information and do the killing and plan it all out. What do we find after an honest night of killing to keep Kyle alive and spying so we can kill more of the Lake Cult or even start a Lake Cult civil war? Lawrence's car parked here and Candi that told him to. Is his faith worth my aggravation. The sooner Candi learns what's important is us the sooner the Lake Cult dies.

>>6324355
Her ritual destroyed the old Kyle didn't it, rather than let him die in peace. Her urging got him to fight their father until they both died.

Though Virginia could just help a brother out. Can't kill Candi if it's all a dream.

>>6324389
Oh right and before I forget. If those little lake kids call Kyle an Apostate doesn't that imply that his Parasite Blood Spirit thing was actually a part of the Lake God? Did Candi's ritual twist it into something else with the power of the Antlered God but they still recognize it. Or is it something that had to do with why the Antlered God is dead and the Lake God is sealed away. Or will both Candi and Virginia just keep on keeping secrets

>>6324384
>>6324389

Writing

>>6324389
>until they both died.
Fair is fair!

"I'm not betraying you," you say, biting back frustration with all this loyalty shit, though you wonder if that frustration is yours or mine and–on that note–you wonder what the difference is. "I'm just getting all the info I can. You can't blame me, you aren't exactly up front about what's going on."

Virginia plants her hands on her hips and gives you an "oh you" look. "Well, sugar, I tell you all I can! I been a god for a while, but I don't know everything! I spent a long time livin in the woods as you may recall."

"I remember," you assure her. "I'm just trying to get facts. The only reason I bothered with those kids in the first place was because I didn't need witnesses sending news of me killing one of Chip's buddies back to Truesdale."

Virginia raises an eyebrow. "You killed another one?"

You shake your head. "Got interrupted."

"Aw. Poor baby," she says with mock sympathy, her lips peeled into a playful grin. "I'm sure that was hard for you."

She has no idea. You'd sort of hoped to take some of that out on your sister.

Virginia's grin widens a little more. Oh, she is a nosy one. "Well, maybe next time," she says.

"I've also got to call one of them."

"Call who?"

"Selena Pengrove," you say.

Virginia shrugs blandly. "Don't know her."

"Some chick in the Lake Cult. She gave me her number and those hollow kids told me to call her."

Virginia's grin looks a little more like she's gritting her teeth. "Well, ain't that convenient."

"If you want Truesdale dead and rotting and you want his little social club burned to fucking ash, then you're going to need to give me a little trust," you say. You keep your tone level, but there's an undeniable edge to your voice. You spread your arms, gesturing to your kingdom, such as it is. "I promise you Lawrence isn't going to do this shit. If you want blood spilled then you need me."

Virginia blinks, not shocked, but maybe a little surprised to hear it spelled out so bluntly. Finally she folds her arms, nodding thoughtfully. "I reckon that's just so." She grins playfully at you again, circling you close. "Alright Boogieman, you want a little *faith*?" She bumps you with her hip. "You got it. Just…" Virginia moves in close, hands on your chest, but she stops. That look of carefree joy flickers and for a moment she looks momentarily worried, almost confused. She takes a half-step back, her hands trailing off of you. "Just… don't let me down, baby." She smiles again.

Before you can really say anything she turns around and opens the front door. "I'll keep Candi out of trouble." She glances over her shoulder. "Honest. You got work to get it."

You sure do.

Virginia closes the door.

No rest for the wicked. You check yourself again, still not believing that Virginia removed all the evidence of your crime so easily but… yeah, you're clean. Back to the Eagle you go after resisting the urge to key Lawrence's car. You've got scores to settle still, shit to work out with Virginia and your sister, but they're not going anywhere. First, let's take care of business.

You start off for the lumber yard. Now, how do you want to spend time afterward? You've got a couple items that need doing.


>Go into Grandpa's mine
>Call Selena and meet with her
>Put off that shit and confront Candi after work
>Write in

>>6324848
>You know what might make things easier for the future? Fat stacks of cash, or at least seed money to make better use of the time and space you have. Well, how hard could it be? You don't leave behind evidence and can... travel. Think, think, think- how best to use this?

>>6324848
>>Go into Grandpa's mine
I wonder if we can actually use this occasionally or if it'll be a last resort

>>6324848
>>Put off that shit and confront Candi after work

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>6324875
Knocking over rich people's houses could get some side cash. Home invasion for fun and profit, but that means burglarizing Lake Cult homes which carries a degree of risk. It's possible if people want to do it.

>>6324875
>>6324999
>Confront Candi - 1
>To the Mine - 2

Fuck it, will of the gods. Rolling and writing

Your bitch sister and that weird Lake slut can wait, you've got a date with destiny. The workday blurs like the teeth of the saw. It's a less pleasant day than normal since you're pulling double work. A lot of guys didn't show up so you're understaffed. Maybe home invasion really is a better career path… kind of ridiculous that you have all this power, all this strength, and the best we can do is running logs through a saw. You know, if circumstances were different then you and I really could make something of ourselves. I mean, I don't know about you, but I think the weak should kneel before the strong and, brother, you're as strong as they come.

Idle warlord fantasies aside, you punch out at the end of the day and head for home. Lawrence's car is gone when you return. Feels like a splinter removed from your heart. You'd like to go and have a little talk with your sister, maybe put a splinter in her heart instead but… probably best to wait a little bit. She knows what she did and, like many things, sometimes the anticipation is the worst part. Or the best.

You take a moment to prepare yourself for your journey. You've got your nine mil in your back waistband, your bootknife tucked in its place. Steel and lead, muscle and hate. You remember Virginia's directions to find the mine and start walking.

It's warm. Weirdly warm still. The sky is heavy, overcast, and looming low. It glows faintly with an orange light still which filters through the pine boughs. Everything is still, no wind, no birds.

The path is narrow, choked with scratching pine branches that claw at your face and jacket as you brush through them. You're starting to wonder if you've even gone the right way when you suddenly emerge into a small circular clearing surrounding a steep hillside. There's a hatchway set into the hill, gripped by pine roots. It looks different than when Virginia brought you here. Same idea, different execution, like it was drawn from memory and that memory was imperfect.

You're not easily intimidated so you haul open the hatch and feel a warm dry wind from deep in the earth. It carries the scent of decaying leaves and wet soil. It's not unpleasant exactly but it's also not good, not something you want to breathe for long.

You also experience a strange revelation. It's not a Mine, it's a Well. You can't explain what that means, like the Hollow kids, it's just something you feel instinctively. It appears to be a hole going down at a 45 degree angle into darkness. The hole delves into the earth. It also delves into the Other Side. Beyond the Veil.

Well, better turn around.

You prop the door open.

Do not go in there.

You step over the threshold.

Trust me, you don't want to do this.

Your boots crunch gravel.

Don't do this. I'm literally begging you not to go in there. Don't go into that deep water. Don't go into the Well. Please. We're small fish to that leviathan, dead or not.

You start down the dark path, plunging into the Well.

I know we've had or differences, but think about all the things I've done for you. All the fun we've had. Please. Please. Don't do this. Turn around. Please. Please.

You ignore the frantic, panicked clawing in the back of your mind, ignore the roiling in your guts telling you that this is the biggest mistake of your life and keep walking. You ignore the desperate voice in your head as it begs you–as *I* beg you–to turn around and forget this place. Personally, I think you should listen, but you and I both know you won't.

You descend. Down and down and down and… how long have you been walking? You look back up the way you've came and see the tunnel disappearing into darkness, not even a dot of light from the door. Somehow the light around you never seems to fade, as if the area around you is always just barely light enough for you to find your footing.

You continue, now more aware of how much time is slipping away from you, running through your fingers like water. Suddenly your boot finds level ground. The tunnel is flat and opens up. You continue. Wider and wider. Wider until you can't see the earth walls, can't see the crude wood supports and braces, can't see the ceiling. All you can see are the faint silhouettes of Pines around you. Soft moss and dead leaves crush underfoot.

This place, it's forever. It's forever and ever and if you take a wrong turn then we're lost down here. Lost. You and I. Forever.

You're beyond the Veil. In the dark. In the Woods. It's empty. Empty. Silent. Devoid. Something which should be here, isn't. It's gone. And now you're in a forest at deepest night. You're not alone. The God down here is dead, but it's far from gone.

Shapes ahead. Familiar shapes, tall ones. It's a ring, a ring of stones. They stand upright, towering over you, twice your height, three times, disappearing into the black. You pass through the circle with the certainty of a man who has no clue the danger he's in. In the center of the rings is a stone slab, an altar.

It's so dark that you can hardly see, but there's something wet. A fluid leaks from the stone to pool on its surface. Black ichor. The Wellspring. You stare at it, the subtle gleaming ripples on its viscous surface. How long do you stare at it? Minutes? Hours? Days? A long time. Too long. Far too long.

We can't be here. We can't stay here. Please. Please.

You're starting to think the voice might be onto something. But… that Ichor… It carries the aroma of sweet decay, the scent of rot and rebirth. The smell of fertility. Beneath all that, beneath that set dressing is a smell you'd know in your sleep. The smell of blood. The Blood of a God.

Oh. This is power. This is possibility. This is… something New.

For all your excitement, for all your eagerness, you're feeling off. It's not good for you to be down this deep. You can't stay here long but… is this where Virginia drank of a Dead God and became More than she was? Is this where the Vessel was filled?

You don't want to become a God, not like her anyway. But you don't have to. You can just… taste. Just a taste of it.

You hear Virginia's words in your mind. "I don't need to tell you the danger of tampering with great power, do I?" If you drink there will certainly be consequences. Nothing in this life is free, nothing. Especially not godlike power.

Great power oozes from the stone. You could play Prometheus or you could let dead gods lie. You don't have long to make a decision about it. You're drowning down here.

>Drink
>Do not drink

>>6325287
>Do not drink
There are many paths to power but only one to satisfaction. Deep down you want the rest of your soul back and this would burn what remains of you out to be replaced.
You'd also likely end up having to fight Virginia to be the Avatar of the Woods Thing. Lose a good friend AND what remains of you? For what purpose?
Do you REALLY want to do that?

>>6325287
>>Do not drink

>>6325287
>Do not drink

Great power perhaps resisting it here is a good test, considering that Prometheus gets his guts eaten out by an eagle for the rest of his story. Considering what we've found in this town maybe he still is. Maybe Kyle can resist killing and eating Candi later, the height of Kyle's self discipline. At least Virginia will probably be happy we faced it and didn't drink.

Tempting, and very interesting. Our mental companion is the one most afraid of getting burned out if we drink, is he the one who would burn first or he just understands it best or both. That he might get replaced with The Dead God, and Kyle too if he can't hold on.

Then theres also the connection to Candi, how much of this is going to go through that connection. If Kyle gets an overwhelming desire to become the new Antlered Avatar/God will Candi also have it. Is a two or three way balance possible or only the one avatar? I suppose only Virginia and maybe Candi could know or figure it out.

If we had that power what would we do with it, how long can we hold the fire of prometheus. Kill Truesdale now and Selena could probably take his place, or perhaps Chip would as more of a gang lord. Unless it really is enough power to kill them all when they're in one spot for the meeting, though that would mean fighting Miss Ellen as the Lake Avatar as well unless we can get her out of the way. If she wasn't there would Truesdale risk taking the Lake Thing into himself as a last ditch way to try and survive.

Still don't know if I can think of a good punishment, but her anticipation at whats coming is a good start. Maybe get her while shes having a bath, classic villain move, dunk her a bit to soften her up. She doesn't like the world or their mother seeing what Kyle and Candi really are, but it wouldn't be good to totally destroy her control over that. So just take her through the house and outside fresh out of the bath into the woods. Put her in the dirt and grass and roots. Stab his knife into a tree next to her head and use the sap to stick back her hair. Mud instead of makeup. Could maybe kill a deer on the way back and take its fresh pelt to wrap her up. It doesn't matter how dirty she is or how dirty we make her, inside or out, shes still ours. Then let her go or get down with it? Something like that? Its hard to walk the line between punishment, reward, and destruction with Candi to be honest.

>>6325285
>A lot of guys didn't show up
wait wtf
no-shows are heavily frowned on aren't they

>>6325380
Candi and Kyle are bound, it's very probable that whatever happens to him will effect her some way
>don't know if I can think of a good punishment
I'd say cut her clit off but that would probably make Virginia sad.
This whole situation gets worse the more I think about it, we're at such a huge disadvantage already because of that bonehead move of trying to kiss her it's hard to roleplay a psycho killer when some of the other voices in his head are dweebs
so I say, turn the tables on her. dear old dad used to take her to the shed to rape her, now she gets to experience what it felt like for Kyle. Take her there and repeatedly drown her in a bucket until she goes to subspace. Then staple her cunt closed, tie her up, leave her there and go meet the other witch, maybe she will be down to fuck?

>Kill Truesdale now and Selena could probably take his place
their God is making moves to get set free and set upon the world. this Truesdale killing business is one of them. We will have to resurrect the God in the Well somehow if that happens, if we still can at that point.
>or perhaps Chip would as more of a gang lord.
Chip's a moron
>Unless it really is enough power to kill them all when they're in one spot for the meeting, though that would mean fighting Miss Ellen as the Lake Avatar as well unless we can get her out of the way.
Miss Ellen craves the sweet release of death, let's see if we can figure out how to best position her for a strategic betrayal and ensure she won't have to spend eternity within the Eater of Souls...

>Do not drink
>>6325299
>>6325376
>>6325380

Writing

>>6325632
>no-shows are heavily frowned on aren't they
Yes, it's a terminatable offense. Very big deal.

Whatever is in that Ichor, whatever power the Well offers, you don't want it. The Gods can keep their fire, you've had enough fire for your lifetime. You take a step back from the Wellspring, but that sense of pressure doesn't relent.

As proud of you as I am, as pleased as I am that you didn't do it, we've got other problems. We're drowning. We're drowning down here in the dark, being crushed by a dead leviathan god. We've got to get the fuck out of here.

You turn away from the altar and start off into the Pines blindly. What little light guided you here is rapidly fading. The dark encloses you. It swallows sound, blankets your eyes, and robs your breath. You can't see, but you can't stay here. You start to run only its slow, painfully slow. That horrible pressure in your chest mounts.

If that wasn't bad enough, you're even less alone now than you were before. Things have noticed you, eyes in the dark, glinting–gleaming like knifes. They trail you in the gloom, winking in and out behind the invisible black pines. You can't see them, but you can feel them. Mindless, antlered beasts with muzzles and claws and fur and many, many eyes.

You run, crashing through branches, hunting desperately for escape.

The beasts are getting closer. They're hungry. They've been alone down here for a long time.

Your heart pounds, banging away in your chest, beating blood through your veins as crushing, abyssal pressure bears down on you harder, and harder.

You see a light, a dim, moonlit glow. Escape. You stumble toward it and fire rakes your back. Claws lash from the dark and teeth snap at your heels. You slip onto hands and knees but regain your feet, racing toward the light until you start going up. Your lungs are burning for air, your head is swimming, but you run on and on and on and on and

You suck in a desperate, strangled breath of air and bolt upright. You're alone in the Pines, the actual Pines, lying just outside the entrance to the Well. The iron hatch over the oak frame is shut and latched. Only a faint whiff of musky decay bleeds from around its edges.

That was a close one.

When you stand, you feel arcs of pain across your back, between your shoulder blades. Automatically, you touch your back and discover the jacket is intact, but from the sharp sting, you surmise that your flesh beneath is not. Whatever still lingers down there got you good.

You're also hungry. Ravenously hungry. Starved even. It's as if you haven't eaten for days. Makes you feel weak. You hate feeling weak. We're going to have to do something about that.

You slip your phone from your pocket and are surprised to discover that you were down there for nine hours. It'll be sunrise soon. Bad time to call Selena, plus… you really need help. That ache in your back isn't going away on its own and your heart aches for blood. You've got enough strength for one 'Speak of the Devil' hop.

Candi can help you. She's helped you before. But it means going to her in a time of need instead of from a position of strength.

You could also finish off Allan, but that got its own risks. You'd have to be quick about it.

Unless you have any other bright ideas.

>Go to Candi for help
>Go hunt Allan and feed
>Write in

>>6325735
Hmm probably gonna hunt allan, would using Sacred Form still let us get a new power from the blood demon thing

>>6325816
>would using Sacred Form still let us get a new power
It doesn't automatically prevent it, but killing alone doesn't gain more powers. Has to be special. This is just to maintain your gains.

The Sacred Form drawback is that it won't be subtle.

>>6325721
well, fuck

>>6325735
>Go hunt Allan and feed
From topped up to almost empty that sucks

Could Kyle have used Speak of the Devil to hop out of the mine from the Altar?