Well... I mean, what I'm wearing right now is pretty normal. The jeans and hoodie.
They're really not as mysterious as you're making them out to be.
What if there’s no better word than just not saying anything?Impoundment Lot
(Smalls' face is reduced to hamburger.)
(Just smiles at Demotte, then at Chris, in a sort of perversely smug way.)
(Tallfuck is groaning and clutching his shoulder wound.)
Church
(Just the statue so far, Zack, and it's floating steadily...)
...what about sum... peenit butter, sugar...?
(There's... TENDRILS coming from the statue, and they're brushing against Mobbu.)
...Hurry, my child, for the door, before it is too late...!
Once she comes out, she'll—... Oh, oh God...
(Shirou has slunk off in this short interval that attention has left him...)
Dining Area
...So. Dress exactly like you are, is what you're saying. My God, if I knew it would be that simple...
...Erm. Peter. This vest, it would be a bit much, wouldn't it?
edited 15th Nov '16 11:02:29 PM by MobileLeprechaun
make it through this year if it kills you yet | 2001-2019Uh, honestly, you could probably get away with it. That whole "vest with a fobwatch" look came back in recently.
Really, this guy you're all so scared of doesn't sound like he's that bad. I bet once we get there and run a session he'll have a chat to us and he'll help us sort some of this stuff out.
What if there’s no better word than just not saying anything?Dining Area
Ah... Could I pass my—... my physiology off as something related to RPGing?
...Need I remind you? His name is Doctor Evil. Literally Dr. Evil. There's— There's a reason he's in Soraya's inner circle, son, and it's probably just that he's a more seasoned RPGer than you.
Impoundment Lot
I—I am a doctor...! Ow... I-I will just, uhhhhm.... r-require a tourniquet, i-is all... hhhh... Merde...
(Clutches hard at it, trying to stop the bleeding with his hand.)
(In her looting, Demotte finds:)
(3 grenades, a buncha ammo, those two guns, a pack of cigars, and... a bronzed pair of baby shoes.)
Church
...Tell your friend to hurry. We're—... We're so sorry, the real reason for this potluck was—
...We have tried again and again to feed her... But her hunger, it is insatiable, and no sacrifice is enough to sate her gnashing maw...
(Gets a very intense scowl, brow furrowing.)
...But enough is enough! With this holy man's help, we will be rid of you, foul demoness, and throw off your shackles for good!
Oh, don't be so sure, Grigori hon!~ GAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
(AT ONCE an EEEEEEEVIL presence bursts forth from the statue, the air rippling with a cholesterol-laden aura of filth. There, in the miasma, floats the massive, grotesque figure of... OF...)
WEYULL HI, Y'AWL! Who's ready t' do some doawn hoam cookin'...?
[PAULA DEEN:
◊ High Demonness of Gluttony].
(...shit!
)
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edited 16th Nov '16 1:11:14 AM by MobileLeprechaun
make it through this year if it kills you yet | 2001-2019CHURCH OF PAULA
GAHHHH HA HA HA HA HA, looks lahk it's a PARTY, Y'AWL!
(Lucid eclairs gush from the wounded tendrils, but Paula herself seems elated and mounts a giant, floating butterstick.)
Ah hope y'awl enjoy BACON in yer ECLAIRS!
(With a frightening sound, the lucid eclairs burst, into white-hot bacon shrapnel, sizzling through the air thickly and hurtling for the churchgoers and clergy.)
(...Savannah... BEHIND YOU)
Impoundment Lot
(Takes it, nodding eagerly.)
O-oh, bless you, my—m-my child, this wi—
You'd best give those shoes back.
(The faceless Smalls slowly, jerkily begins rising from his slump, the meat-crater where his features used to inhabit contorting and writhing, bony protrusions and jagged teeth cutting through the concave hole.)
...M-mon Dieu...!
Dining Area
...W-wait, you're just—?!
…
(Tears off his jacket, musses up his hair, steals a baseball cap from an unsuspecting diner, puts it on backwards and hurriedly follows the group.)
(ONE WALK LATER AND)
(They are right outside the villa itself, staring it in the... door?
◊ Spooky...)
...I swear to Christ, if you get us killed doing this.
Hey, old man, settle down, m'kay?
...Heavens...
FIGHTWRESTLE DICKPUNCH
...RRRRRRGHHHH y'little SCUMBAG FAGGO—
(Gabriella fuckin' rides Blazes like a demented mecha made of meat, crashing into Cop and flooring both officers with the immense impact.)
FINISH THEM, PLANETMAN...!
(Her eyes are fire.)
make it through this year if it kills you yet | 2001-2019... Okay, I'll grant you, I didn't see the door coming. Let me just...
-Reaches into his backpack and palms something small, putting it in his jacket pocket-
-Then he walks up to the door, beside Irish Cyborg Lady-
edited 20th Nov '16 9:33:14 PM by SR3NORMANDY
What if there’s no better word than just not saying anything?


"... Huh? The fuck's goin on?"