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Multiple Settings Juncture [DISCONTINUED: SETTING IS LOCKED]

duegxybus

Ten Thousand Club



JunctureStory by: D duegxybus & Lappi Lappi
Voting Thread here!



Before we start, I'd like to extend a super special mega huggly wuggly squishy wishy thanks to: The Regal Rper The Regal Rper for helping with proofreading and other stuff. He's a great writer and I'm gonna sponsor his stuff too if he wants me to. Love you Dabby!~


Second is a huge massive 1 gazillion ultra buhjillion waveform blastwave explosive turbo rocket thanks to Lappi Lappi for bringing up Quest Logs in the first place, bringing a plethora of ideas to the table, and most importantly actually writing this massive thing with me. This is his first Quest Log and I'm SUPER happy to have his brain, heart, and soul in this project as much as I do!~

And of course, a special big thicc squishy lovey laser beam thanks to ALL OF YOU FOR PARTICIPATING IN JUNCTURE! We couldn't have done it without a following and readerbase! That being said, welcome!




  • Juncture Table of Contents - Easy access to every update! Just click the link!

    Arc I - Conspiracy
    Arc II - ???
    • ??? i
    • ??? ii
    • ??? iii
    • ??? iv
    • ??? v
    • ??? vi
    • ??? vii
    • ??? viii
    • ??? ix
    • ??? x



 
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Juncture Conspiracy i



The figure of a early 2000’s car right below a streetlamp was the main set-piece in a nearly empty street. The 2 silhouettes inside the car sat in apparent silence. The only things moving were their mouths. Every once in a while, they’d glance at the large office building just off the street.

The woman in the passenger side was no other than Anessa Cohen Kennedy, the real identity of the nameless hero he had heard all about in the streets. She wasn’t the mercenary sort, but she wanted to do something; take on the troublesome gangs and rescue people. Luckily, for him, that same Anessa was his roommate.

Owen listened to her voicing the concerns about how this plan wouldn’t work. In reality, he had to force himself to care about her concerns. He’d known her long enough to know there’s no way she could get seriously injured, if his information was right about them, no one in the party they were going to crash would be able to easily hurt her.

The gang that held the school girl were known as the Copperheads. A ruthless group of human traffickers that he planned to bring down, were just in that building. Catching them by surprise just two hours after receiving the anonymous tip seemed to be the right idea.

“So, we don’t really have a plan.” Anessa’s harsh change of tone caught Owen’s attention.

Owen stared at her, dumbfounded. “Honestly, we can’t make a plan. The tip said little about their staff.”

Silence filled the car once again as Owen pressed a hand against his chin, as though he was trying to compact his entire head into brainstorming a plan.

“Ah, come on! We’ve wasted enough time sitting in this damned car! Let’s just hit them hard!” Anessa’s aggression cut through the silence.

Owen wanted to protest. He hated the idea of her charging in, especially since he wouldn’t be able to keep up with her. But he kept his mouth shut as the woman stepped onto the sidewalk, closing her door and walking over to the building’s entrance.

Owen cursed under his breath, knocking his head against the steering wheel as his ‘nameless hero’ walked up to the man at the door, the one with the assault rifle. The guard didn’t raise the gun instantly, which might’ve been a good sign. Owen rolled the down the window, reaching into his coat for his gun.

“Hi, um, where’s the nearest bathroom?” Anessa asked the guard innocently, even pivoting her foot on the ground with her hands behind her back.

Owen cringed. The bathroom trick wouldn’t work in real life. He unbuckled his seatbelt and unlocked the driver’s side door.

The guard pointed to the left. “The bathroom? Yeah, lady, it’s on the left.”

As soon as the guard raised his arm, Anessa reached up and grabbed him by the wrist. Instinctively, the guard attempted to twist his hand free. It was like attempting to wrench out of a crocodile’s jaw.

Anessa gripped his collar tight and, in one jerking motion, pulled him over her head and straight into the ground, forehead against the sidewalk. She lifted him back up, and then dropped him down again another time for good measure.

“Shit,” muttered Owen as he hopped out of the car and ran toward her heroine and the guard.

Owen gave a pitiful look at the now unconscious guard. Even the biggest men looked far less terrifying when being ragdolled and dropped on their heads.

“That was satisfying.” Anessa pursed her lips and put a hand on her hip, as though she was trying to imitate popular superhero poses.

“Would it kill you to tone down the super strength? That was downright unnecessary.” Owen frowned.

“Yes, it would actually kill me. My heart depends on my strength to pump blood through my rock hard bod-"

“Did I need those details?”

“Never hurts to be well informed!” Anessa gave a victorious grin as she went over to the door. She gave it a small tug.

“Locked.”

She pulled it harder. The deadbolt bent like hot iron before succumbing to her strength and popping open with a very noticeable cracking sound.

“Unlocked.”

Owen drew his gun and stepped forward. He shut his eyes for two seconds, opened them, and gave a nasty glare into the building.

And then he let his demihuman ability run. The lights in the place flooded his vision, and he began to watch everything. The world seemed to slow a little, and he could see even the dark corners. The super strong woman that walked inattentively beside him looked like something straight out of a film. Owen hated the bounce in her step, yet it was extremely graceful, if not downright cinematic, in slow motion.

A single footstep from the second floor of the office got Owen’s attention immediately. A man, looking far more disheveled and thuggish than the uniformed ‘guard’ outside, shouted into a walkie talkie. “Oi, boss! People are here! Send help!”

Anessa grabbed a nearby lounge chair by the arm rests and whistled loudly. “Hey, you. Shut UP!”

The heroine spun around quickly and released the chair. Momentum carried it up toward the second floor loft. The thuggish man ducked as the chair flew over his head and crashed behind him.

“Boss, they have a demihuman! This lady nearly took off my head with a lounge chair! Where are the Jackets!?” The radio was no longer any help. The man didn’t shoot despite having a gun on him.

“Anessa, you know he can charge you for assault now, right? And you can’t say it was self defense.” Owen glared.

“Really? ‘Oh look, we’re beating up, torturing, and traumatizing a little school girl! And I'm going to whine about having a chair thrown at me! Boo hoo!’” Anessa reached over to grab another chair.

This time, the Copperhead didn’t hold back. He shot at Anessa, unloading two bullets. The gunshots reverberated loud enough for Owen to wince and hold his ears.

Anessa rolled with the bullet impacts as both of them tore through her hoodie. Her fingertips turned slightly blue. One good shake returned them to normal color.

Owen looked over to her. Dammit, he thought. This was no time to show off! He trained his gun at the Copperhead as more footsteps filled the loft.

Anessa pulled both bullets out of her hoodie. Their tips were crushed. “Gonna need a bigger bullet. Probably a tank shell!”

Several guns were now trained on Owen. With the knowledge that Anessa was apparently bulletproof, the Copperheads decided to try their luck with the other man.

Owen leapt behind a support pillar and covered his ears again. A hail of gunfire tore at the pillar, but couldn’t penetrate the solid steel support inside. The bullets continued for around six seconds. One bullet clipped past him. With his power, Owen watched it fly through the air. Purple tips?

When the hail of bullets stopped, Owen peeked out from behind the pillar. A man in a beanie had his hands pressed together. As he slowly pulled them apart, a haze of purple mist parted to reveal shining, mint-condition bullets floating between his palms. Several of the bullets overlapped, like a surreal fractal simulation. The remaining men each grabbed a stack of overlapping bullets and loaded up.

“Anessa! See that guy with the purple energy?” Owen fired his gun once into the wall next to the demihuman. “Anessa?”

He turned to the side, between the loft and the ground. Owen found himself covering his face as the carpet crumpled and a dust cloud puffed out from where she once stood. Anessa shot into the air like a crossbow bolt. The flimsy loft railing offered no resistance to the heroine’s speed.

Anessa’s head collided directly into the purple mist man, knocking the wind out of him and sending him into the wall. The remaining five Copperheads trained their guns on Anessa from all sides. A collective of gunshots accumulated as nine bullets punched more holes into Anessa’s jacket. The last bullet to impact her elicited a strained grunt and a step back.

Owen didn’t have time to examine the effects of the bullets on the knightess. Reactivating his ability, his field of vision widened, and the world returned to slow motion, Owen took to a sprint up the stairs. There was enough light for him to function. How could she be impervious to eight bullets, and then succumb to the ninth?

“AARRRGHH!” The increasing volume of a man’s cries were enough for Owen to turn his head. Flying at him was a fully grown guy, around a head taller than himself, with a scrunched up face. He was...bracing for impact? Owen barely managed to duck as the man flew over his head, slamming face-first into the wall and tumbling down the stairs.

"Watch where you throw!” Owen called out to Anessa.

“I’m...sorry...didn’t...think.” Anessa panted as she raised both hands in a blocking position. One of the Copperheads had apparently had the upper hand as he landed two punches on Anessa’s upper body. She visibly tightened her gut as his fist went into her torso - then rolled with the hit. Turning and sidestepping. Inhaling. Raising a hand. The blue color drained halfway from her fingertips. She clenched that hand into a fist.

Owen jumped behind one Copperhead, kicked open a door, and made his way deeper into the office building. Behind him, he heard what sounded like a baseball bat striking a punching bag. He had no time to look back. “Ness! Get in here!”

The private eye ran down the hallway. Every door was shut and lifeless, except for the one at the end. The hallway was dark. Owen felt his power fading from the absence of light, and the world speeding up again was the least of his worries. His own heavy breathing brought him back. He crouched down next to the door.

Anessa caught up with him just a few seconds later. She took the opposite side of the door for only a second before reaching out to tear the hinges off. Voices from behind the door stopped her from moving.

Owen listened to behind the door with Anessa. 3 voices argued back and forth from behind the door. A lower toned male voice speaking above the female voice.

“Just calm down! We can take her, ok?”

The feminine voice rang out.

“Don’t kid yourself! Just run, you will only get yourself killed!”

Owen could read the worry in the female’s voice even from the other side of the door. The third voice seemed to be brighter than the other 2 and spoke in a soft tone. Unable to be heard past the metal door.

As the sound around the building started to die down, all 3 went silent. Only the sounds of the 3 scrambling in the room were heard.

“Can’t take it anymore. Tsk.” Anessa wrapped her fingers around the first hinge and began to squeeze.

Wait!” Owen hissed.

“What? I’m going in, beating the piss outta anyone who isn’t the school girl, and jumping out the back window with her.” Anessa wrapped a hand over her knuckles and pressed. They didn’t crack, but Owen understood what she wanted to do. He had to let her know the best course of action.



There are probably 3 gang members on the other side, and a school girl to snatch. What should Owen say to Anessa?


1. “Alright Ness, you can go in. Knock out everyone who isn’t the girl, grab her, and get out. Fly into the streets.”
2. “Are you crazy? I’ll be the one going in! The light should make me fast enough to take everyone out first.”


3. “If you go in, grab the girl first and fly out immediately onto the streets. I’ll cover you.”
4. “No. You cover me. I’ll get in there, grab the girl, and run out. The room’s all yours, after I get out.”


Voting/Discussion Thread: Here!
Participants:
Idea Idea
Noivian Noivian
The Regal Rper The Regal Rper
B BlueClover
Miniapollo17 Miniapollo17

The Omen of Death The Omen of Death
Damafaud Damafaud
Prayforthewickedeveryday Prayforthewickedeveryday

[A/N: First post guys! Make sure to use the voting thread for votes and discussion! This thread is for RP updates only! And make sure to read above for the Table of Contents for easy access to future posts! Well, let's get on this wild road of conspiracy and intense powers!]





 
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Juncture Conspiracy ii
(Last Choice Selected: 4)



“No. You cover me. I’ll get in there, grab the girl, and run out. The room’s all yours, after I get out.” Owen pointed to the door and stowed away his pistol. He was a fast runner. A really fast runner.

Anessa nodded to him. She jammed her hands into the door hinge and pulled hard.

“What was that?!” A voice came from inside. It was one of the gang members. Owen could hear the man prepare some sort of bladed weapon. There were three people in there. Three different voices. That seemed perfectly doable, considering what had just happened earlier. “Ness, get ready.”

Owen watched as Anessa tore her hands from the hinge. The door began to fall inward, letting light from the inside flood out. Owen’s pupils dilated just a little - to the point where it looked like a normal person’s eyes - as he cranked up his ability to full strength.

Even his own motions felt like falling through molasses. His eyes and his brain moved faster than his body. He placed his foot on the falling door and ran forward. The door hit the ground hard, shaking the carpet dust loose.

Owen saw the man with a blade make a slow leap toward him. He turned to the side and pushed himself to the ground, catching the knife wielder by the leg and pulling hard. While the man with the blade fell, Owen quickly realized something was off.

There were only two gang members in the building. Two men, and no woman. Only two men were guarding the small brunette girl whom, Owen could only assume, was the high schooler that he’d have to get.

“ANESSA! There’s an Anon in here! She vanished as soon as I got in here!” Owen had little time. The man with the blade was getting up again. Owen grabbed the brunette girl by the arm, then scooped her up from under the knees.

It seemed as though, just the shock of lifting her up like that, was enough to have the whole room panic. The school girl screamed and started flailing, clutching the ends of her long sleeves with her fingers.

Owen sprinted toward the door, sliding past the man with the knife and out at the door. As he was about to tag Anessa, something struck his shoulder. Something pointy.

The investigator grunted as he stumbled forward, barely holding onto the school girl. He turned his head back to see Anessa flying into the room, as well as the splintered door frame he had collided with.

“Shit,” muttered Owen as he rubbed his shoulder, covering the gash with his jacket. The school girl picked up a struggle again. Owen held her tighter. “Hey, hey! Schoolgirl. Calm down. We're here to help you!”

Behind the investigator and the schoolgirl, Anessa began to handle the room. The hallway shook as she bounded one side of the room to the other. Screams echoed from the room. A final thump marked the end of both gang members’ shouts.

Owen didn’t have time to look back.

He sprinted toward the stairs, actively avoiding the unconscious and beaten-up gang members. Seriously, tone down the super strength. Owen hopped down the last few stairs and ran out the entrance to their car.

“Get in the car, I'll explain later!” Owen opened the back door, then pushed the school girl in. A clean rescue mission was almost never possible, especially if there were only two rescuers. The private investigator hopped into the driver’s seat.

“Sorry about being rough. We’re trying to get you out of here.” Owen adjusted the rear-view mirror. The brunette stayed silent, curled up and attempting to take up as little space as possible in the back seat. Owen figured she couldn’t be more than five-two.

“What’s your name? You look fourteen, so I’m guessing freshman.”

“Lillian, and I’m s-sixteen.” The girl spoke up, shakily. She swallowed, almost as though that would give her confidence.

Owen nodded. “Great. We’re going to be taking you down to...oh shit.”

The little bit of confidence that Lillian gained was quickly dashed with the dreaded noise that blared from just two blocks down. She huddled back into the corner of the car seat.

Police sirens.

By the sound of it, there were at least four police cars. Owen turned on the car and put it in drive. He turned back and gave a slight smile to Lillian.

Lillian’s eyes darted from Owen to the building. “What? That smile was creepy. Is something happening?”

The glass window on the second floor smashed into well over a thousand pieces as Anessa - Owen’s unbreakable knightess - crashed through the pane and touched down on the street. Two splatters of blood tainted her hoodie around the chest, along with a very minor scrape just barely visible, on her neck.

Lillian pushed her back against the car door as Anessa hopped into the car. Owen turned back and exchanged a high-five with her, then floored the gas pedal. The car’s engine roared to life as the car accelerated to around five miles per hour below the speed limit.

“That was crazy!” Anessa exclaimed moments after the sirens were drowned out by other sounds.

“I bet it was.” Owen began. “Just don’t say if you did anything. You didn’t do anything scary, did you?”

Anessa turned to Lillian, looking at the school girl. She didn’t look too fond of seeing the blood on Anessa’s hoodie.

“Not this time, Owen. I just knocked their heads together. They’re still alive.” Anessa took her gaze off of Lillian and stared out the window.

“Really, Ness? And what about the Anon? Did you catch any vanishers?”

“None noted. I may have bumped her into the wall and crushed her. I don’t recall fighting an Anon.”

Owen glanced at the rear view mirror to get a look at the backseat passengers, especially Lillian. She didn’t seem like the type to have a weapon on her, but he’d do well to check if she had anything. “Anessa?”

“Yeah Owen?”

“Check the girl for weapons.”

Anessa didn’t move. She just glanced at Lillian once. “Check her for weapons?”

Lillian pushed even further into the back seat, pulling her sleeves over her hands and shaking her head. “I-I don’t have any weapons.”

“Anessa,” Owen began again. “Seriously, check if she has any weapons-”

“Owen! Give it a rest! If she had any weapons, I’d be willing to take her down. Er.” She turned to Lillian. “Sorry. I’ll be gentle if you pull a knife on us. Not that you would, right?”


Owen sighed. “Fine. Make her feel at home, I guess. Must’ve been rough for her.” He glanced once at the mirror again as they merged onto the main expressway. The two in the back didn’t seem to interact much at this point, and it even looked like Anessa was nodding off.

Fuck…” Owen cursed in a hushed whisper. They’d be home soon, and he could finally ask the important questions.


***


Around 0145, ALT Apartments


Sploosh.

Owen held his tongue as the silent splashing of laundry, muffled by a door, came from the next room. He fixed his gaze on Lillian. The blue eyed brunette school girl was wearing a stud lined leather jacket with skinny jeans. Her outfit completely fit something a teen would wear. For some reason she wore the longest sleeves he had ever seen in a jacket.

The private investigator set his gun on the table, then took note of a slight shifting from Lillian. Her eyes went from the gun, and back to the detective.

“It’s cleared. Don’t worry. You won’t get shot,” Owen explained as he pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. “Now, let’s do the serious stuff while Anessa’s cleaning her clothes. Name?”

“Lillian.” The girl’s voice was just as quiet and blunt as before.

Owen set his pen down. “Look, Lillian. I need you to work with me here, so I can figure out why the hell the Copperheads kept you on lockdown. Your full name, please.”

The girl bit her lip for a second, then let it go. “Lillian Baron.”

“Thank you. You’re sixteen, uh...around five-one. Light. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Yep, yep, stupid details…” Owen muttered to himself while he scribbled down nearly illegible notes on the paper.

“So! That brings us to the important stuff. Here’s the tip I got about you. From someone.” Owen shuffled through the drawer and pulled out a letter. Specifically, the anonymous tip.


To: Owen Harding, P.I.


This is an anonymous tip, and an urgent one at that. I’ve heard of your work, and recognize that you’re more than capable of breaking into places like this. But I’m concerned about a different thing, one that might pose to be a bit of a challenge.

A young girl from Dranfort Academy is being held prisoner. She’s not in the best place, and her parents are worried sick. Retrieve her, please, so the authorities can deal with the gang with no consequences. I still don’t understand how you do it alone without demihuman powers. If I’d not known any better, I could’ve mistaken you for a government Age.

Well, that’s all there is to say Mr. Harding. Good luck, and act quickly before they prepare against you.


Signed, The Tip.



“It says here that your parents are worried sick, and they’d like me to retrieve you so the authorities can handle the Copperheads. I guess the next course of action would be me to return you to your parents, right?”

“I-I don’t-,” Lillian choked, “...Parents?”

She went silent. Owen pondered in the silence as well. How could this tip be wrong?

“Sorry. I don’t think this tip knows you well. I’d call an orphanage and see if they can get you a bed. But...you know how bad the orphanages near ALT are? They put demihumans and normal kids in the same room, and then it’s just chaotic. As it stands, I can’t let you go there.” The private investigator pointed to the bedroom.

“Maybe you can spend some time here while I learn more about you. How does that sound, Lillian?” Owen flashed a smile.

Lillian turned to the bedroom, then back to Owen. “Yeah. That sounds good. Thank you.”

“And then, we can focus on integrating you back into school! Dranfort Academy’s definitely a place for a bright young lady. I think Ness went there for her senior year. Doesn’t that sound nice? Um.”

As soon as he mentioned school, Lillian froze up. She stared the detective and began to choke up again. The teen drew in a shaky breath.

“I’ve been out of school...for over a year. Going back would be social suicide! I can’t go back to school.” Lillian rubbed her eyes with her sleeves. “It would cause problems for the teachers. A-And, I’d get asked weird questions if this goes public.”

“Wait, wait. How would it be social suicide? We can easily create a cover-up story.” Owen’s hand went to the pen, and he began drawing out a diagram. “We can tell the Headmaster why you were gone and they’ll keep it a secret.”

“Wait! Please, I don’t want to go back to school! The school, uh, my school sounds preppy! I can’t go back to that school.” Lillian almost stood up.

The door to the laundry room opened. Anessa stood there, in a t-shirt and black shorts, which were short enough to make her look taller than she already was. Without her bloody hoodie, she looked far less rigid in terms of body structure. She had a considerably less intimidating look on her face this time around as well. The off-duty heroine pushed a strand of hair out of her face, and listened in on the conversation.

“Why don’t you want to go back to school? Have you been bullied? Is there some sort of underlying issue with the boys or something? Do you have bad grades? Have you played hookie? Are you a delinquent?!”

“That’s ENOUGH!” Anessa’s harsh yell reverberated off of the walls of the apartment. Owen hushed his speaking, Lillian turned to face her, and silence took over. The only sound was the whipping of the ceiling fan.

“Better.” Anessa marched over to the dinner table and rested her hand on the back of Lillian’s chair. “Hey, Lillian, was it?”

The girl looked up at Anessa with widened eyes. “Y-Yeah?”

“Do you want something to drink? Hot chocolate maybe?” Anessa drummed her fingers on the back of Lillian’s chair and smiled.

“Uh, do you have any coffee? I’d prefer that, please.”

“Decaf, though. It’s one in the morning.” Anessa went off to the kitchen. “Oh, and, Lillian, feel free to wait in my bedroom. The bed’s a whole lot more comfortable than these dinner chairs.”

Lillian nodded, then got up to go to the bedroom. She hadn’t taken off her shoes since getting indoors, and seemed to make an effort to keep her legs covered.

Owen took note of this, but didn’t think much of it. He glanced over to Anessa and chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day where you’d be making coffee.”

“It’s still decaffeinated, and it’s for the girl. And don’t try to get all friendly with me. I heard you overwhelm her with questions.” Anessa put the instant coffee packet into the machine. “Are you that much of a workaholic that you forget that others need a break?”

“Ness, it’s not like that. I’ll admit it, yes. I don’t sleep, I just stock up on light, and I take the time to work. But this is urgent. We have a girl in our apartment, for Christ’s sake! And we don’t even know if she’s a demihuman.”

Anessa looked up from the coffee machine. “What are you insinuating?”

“Well. She covers her arms and legs. She could be a Mute. Have something she isn’t proud of...” Owen shrugged, trailing off after he’d said it. ‘Mute.’ A derogatory term to describe anyone who’s power altered their body.

“Why’s that always your conclusion? Do you have something against them, or something?” Anessa gripped the counter and glared at the investigator. “Maybe she’s just going through, you know, some stuff? Teens often try that kind of thing.”

“Right. But still. Anyone can be a demihuman.” Owen pushed his chair back, tossed the papers back into the drawer, and went over to the fruit basket. He picked up an apple.

Anessa inhaled sharply. “Ah, I wouldn’t eat an apple if I were you. Pick something else.”

Owen chucked the apple back in the bowl, and picked up a banana. “Happy?”

He turned the desk lamp up to his face and allowed the light flood into his pupils. He felt the brightness and the heat, but it wasn’t debilitating. Instead, he simply felt like he didn’t need to sleep anymore. “Ness, watch over the kid. And watch over yourself. Neither of you are gonna jump on the bed.”

“Trust me, I’ll be fine.” Anessa grinned, poured the steaming hot coffee into a mug. She grabbed a packet of brown sugar and another packet of creamer. “Good luck, Owen. Oh! And, uh, can you pick up some red tinted condoms too for me? Thank you!”

Before Owen could say anything, Anessa had set the coffee mug on a plate, grabbed a box of biscuits, and rushed over to the bedroom.

“...Red condoms? Why red?” Owen rubbed his head, clearly baffled by her request. He grabbed a different coat, a longer trench coat this time, took his Glock, and headed out the door.

Walking out of the apartment never ceased to amaze him at night, even after around two years. It was like stepping out into another dimension. Outside the airlock. Their little apartment was their safe space, and the city at night was the world to be explored. He went down the stairs and had to make a decision now.




After, well, that altercation, Anessa asked for...red condoms? What should Owen do now that he's outside?


1. Owen goes to the grocery store to buy food first. It’s close by, after all, and Anessa’s weird request can wait until tomorrow. They had food at home, but getting more would be a task for later.
2. Owen goes to the pharmacy first. It’s in the other direction and far from the grocery, but he would likely forget Anessa’s demand for the red condoms if he doesn’t do that first.


3. Owen goes down to the police center to collect some information (inconspicuously). Food can wait, condoms can wait, but information at this point can’t wait.
4. Owen goes to the 24-hour gun store and buy some more rounds for the gun. He wouldn’t want to run out of bullets in the middle of a firefight.


Voting/Discussion Thread: Here!
Participants:
The Regal Rper The Regal Rper
Noivian Noivian
Idea Idea
Miniapollo17 Miniapollo17
The Omen of Death The Omen of Death
B BlueClover
Prayforthewickedeveryday Prayforthewickedeveryday




 



Juncture Interim (Conspiracy) ii.5




The front door closed a few moments ago, plunging the apartment into silence again. Anessa went to the bedroom and knocked on the open door. Normally she’d just barge in and start talking, yet this time was somewhat different. There was another person in her bedroom today. A guest, of sorts.

“Oh, uh, Anessa? This is your bedroom, isn’t it?” A girl’s voice came from the bedroom. She sat upon the bed’s edge. Her shoes were still on, and she seemed just as nervous as before. She fidgeted with her index fingers, thumbs, and middle fingers, while the last two of each hand kept ahold of her sleeves.

“Yeah, it’s my bedroom.” Anessa replied, walking in with the coffee on a plate. She lowered the plate with the mug to Lillian. “Careful, it’s hot. I got biscuits if you’d like those, too.”

“Thanks.” Lillian nodded, taking the mug. She blew on it a few times before taking a careful sip of the hot black coffee.

Anessa held up a packet of creamer and another packet of brown sugar. “Sugar? Creamer?”

“Black is fine, thanks.” Lillian replied, waving a hand. As she did, her sleeve dropped down a little, revealing a part of her wrist. She quickly shook her sleeve to have it cover up again, and turned her head slightly away from Anessa as she drank the coffee.

What? Anessa blinked twice, as though she was trying to shake the memory of what she’d seen. Lillian’s wrist, and probably her entire upper arm, was black. It seemed as though they’d been burned to a crisp, or as though they’d been replaced with charcoal. Yet they weren’t emaciated and looked like a healthy, black arm. There was no way that those could have been injuries.

“Lillian? Do you mind if I sit here?” Anessa pointed to the bed with her free hand. The other hand gripped the biscuit container a bit tighter.

The high schooler nodded, still not turning to face her. “I don’t mind.”

Anessa sat down at the corner of the bed. Her weight caused the bed to sag a full couple of inches. “So, I take it that Owen was trying to talk to you earlier. He’s quite the pushy guy.”

“Is this the part where you tell me I have to listen to him?” Lillian asked, turning her head back to face the heroine.

“Not really. His judgement’s great and all, but he can obsess over things quickly, if that makes any sense. If he wants something, he’ll go overboard just to have it.” Anessa popped open the container of biscuits. It was empty.

“Damn. No biscuits, sorry.” Anessa chuckled.

“Can I ask you a question?” Lillian tugged on Anessa’s shirt.

“Yeah? Ask away.”

“What exactly did you do with those two in the room with me? You didn’t kill them, did you?” Lillian’s voice began to quiver. She cleared her throat and quickly added, “I mean, what happened?”

Anessa stared at the back of her hand. The same hand held the backs of those two gang members’ heads, and smashed them together like coconuts. She made an effort to limit her strength. Those men had severe concussions at worst.

“I knocked them out. I really doubt they’re dead, especially since police were on the way and would make sure they’re fine. Why do you ask?” Anessa raised an eyebrow, now with a little bit of concern. She certainly hoped this wasn’t a Stockholm Syndrome case. Another can of worms to open was the last thing she, or Owen, would be hoping for.

Lillian looked more relieved than anything, she responded appropriately “I just wanted to know, thank-you” Anessa felt the need to pry more, but her thoughts were brought to a halt as Lillian slurped down the rest of the coffee loudly.

Anessa was suddenly reminded of her conversation with Owen. When he referred to the girl as a possible Mute, he might’ve been referring to what was hidden under those sleeves. She had to confirm. With the teen turned away, Anessa began to zone out. Her gaze never left Lillian’s hand, as though she was trying to pierce through those damned sleeves with her gaze, just to know the truth.

“Lillian.” Anessa said, with a more serious tone than before. She hated her “serious voice.” It sounded an awful lot more strained, and metallic. “Is there a reason why you’re hiding your arms?”

The school girl didn’t turn for around two seconds. Anessa would’ve asked again, but Lillian beat her to it. She turned, as though she had just heard what Anessa asked.

“Hm?” Lillian cleared her throat.

“You’re holding onto your sleeves. Is there something wrong with your arms?”

“N-No…” Lillian said. “There’s nothing wrong.”

“No injuries? That’s good. Are they just, you know, different, then?” Anessa lifted her hand off of her own lap and reached toward Lillian’s arm.

The teen jerked away and shook her head. “Hey, don’t touch!”

“Sorry. I’m just fascinated by seeing different features on demihumans. I don’t get to be around you lot often.” Anessa withdrew her hand and rested her head on her hand. Silence took over once again. Anessa blew on a strand of hair.

“I’m not a Mute, by the way.” Lillian added a few seconds later. “Just a normal girl, you know, like you…”

“Powers or not, I don’t think a normal girl beats up people for a dude with a gun, just so she can live in his house.” Anessa chuckled. “If anything, I might be worse than, uhm, altered superhumans. But I think everyone with powers has some level of alteration.”

Another moment of silence. Anessa started to talk again. “So do you have any demihuman pow-”

“Why’s your hair so long?” Lillian blurted out, almost too hastily. “I mean, don’t close combat fighters keep it short so it doesn’t get pulled on?”

Anessa grabbed a strand of her hair. “Uh, well. It’s because it’s hard to cut. It’s like steel wire, so I have to use wire cutters. Easier to just tie it up than spend hours cutting it.”

Lillian nodded. “Cool.”

Silence took over once again. Anessa desperately wanted to ask the demihuman question again. She knew being pushy wouldn’t get her anywhere at this point in time, though.

“Well, I guess you’re done with coffee right?” Anessa took the empty coffee cup and went to put it in with the rest of the dishes.
As she walked back into the room she noticed that Lillian's jeans had been rolled up. As natural as Lillian’s face looked, her legs didn’t reflect even an inkling of familiarity. Both legs, past the ankles and to the calf were a charcoal black, as though they’d been completed carbonized.

Lillian seemed to have realized her mistake, as she hastily yanked her jeans down. Her sleeves fell along with them. Anessa gripped the bridge of her nose with two fingers.

“Lillian. You know that I’ve got nothing against altered demihumans. There wasn’t any point to lying to me.”

The teen gave a vacant stare in Anessa’s direction, almost as though she couldn’t decide between fear and regret. Lillian’s voice choked up. “I…”

“No, it’s okay. Whatever part of your body got altered isn’t my business. It’s just that, I guessed discrimination was nonexistent by now”

Lillian didn’t say anything. She just shook her head. “The Copperheads hated them and, wait. Are you going to tell Owen? I mean, he’s obviously against Mutes!”

Anessa went over to the bed and rested on the edge. She took Lillian’s hand, glancing over it but not moving her sleeve that much. “He’s not against them. He’s not really...against anything, really. In fact, I’d think he’d be fascinated by most variations. But if it’s that in your best interests, I’ll keep it a secret. I promise.”

“Thanks.” Lillian’s voice was a hushed whisper, but it was as clear as crystal. She meant it.

“Oh, and another thing. Since you’re living under this roof, that means you’re following our bedtime. I’ll grab you a set of clothes. Any, dysfunctional aspects to your powers? Random triggering, leakage or wastes, or anything else?”

“Well, uh...they might go off at night.” Anessa nodded and replied. “Alrighty, i’ll keep that in mind. Let me get those clothes I told you about.” Anessa walked to the other side of the room and opened up the closet. Lillian spoke up again while Anessa was looking for the clothes.

“I have shot fire from my hands. . . It’s happened before while I sleep” That last part came out in a ashamed manner. Anessa was a bit surprised, fire was a pretty controversial power in general. Destructive and painful. However now was not the time to scrutinize, Anessa set the clothes down next to Lillian.

“Don’t worry about it, just get some rest for now. You look exhausted. If something does happen I can fix it” Lillian nodded and looked somewhat and Anessa not feeling much more to say, left the room closing the door behind her.

Anessa knew that Owen would figure out eventually. But Anessa knew when to keep a secret, There was little harm to not telling Owen at the moment. Speaking of which, he should be coming home soon. A run to the store shouldn’t take all night after all.





No vote for interims! Just something to chew on while we get that next post out on Saturday!​


Participants:
The Regal Rper The Regal Rper
Noivian Noivian
Idea Idea
Miniapollo17 Miniapollo17
The Omen of Death The Omen of Death
B BlueClover
Prayforthewickedeveryday Prayforthewickedeveryday




 
Last edited:



Juncture Conspiracy iii
(Last Choice Selected: 2)



In that split second decision, Owen decided. Pharmacy first. Can’t forget Anessa’s...condoms.

After all, the last thing he needed was Anessa bugging him about them later, should he forget. He made a sharp right, and started his walk.

He could’ve easily driven the distance in the car. In fact, most in his situation would’ve done so at this hour, but he enjoyed the walk. The walk allowed Owen the chance to enjoy the city around him, even if it was haunting at times.

The sharp creases of the shadows and the yellow-orange street lights were just great to look at in general. It was a sight that was there every night, a constant figure. The hard realization? That, every one of those shadows, could hide a lurking mugger.

Owen started to regret the walk halfway to the pharmacy as paranoia spiked through the edges of his mind, fading in and out. His walk suddenly turned uneasy as he acknowledged the dark, yet this walk gave him time.

He needed time to think.

Time to think about what has happened, what could happen, and what he should do about it. This girl would not be helpful on her own, but with Owen’s expertise and knowledge, she could be a useful tool in pushing matters into law enforcement’s eyes. If anything, now would be the time to shine light onto these cases, with Lillian in his custody.

Owen’s wet steps echoed across the streets, valuing his thoughts over his senses at the moment. The ambience of the street seemed to fade away as Owen sunk deeper into thought. He wasn’t even keeping track of landmarks at this point and had nearly missed the flashing green “Write-Aid” sign.


***

Owen stepped into the pharmacy, drying his feet off on the mat in front of the automatic doors. The pharmacy seemed like an unused movie set at this hour. Everything sat on the shelves in pristine condition.

The cashier stood at the counter, drumming her fingers lazily over the counter. It was quite hypnotic, Owen realized, as he watched her head droop down, then jerk up in a desperate attempt to stay awake.

He walked over to the checkout. Wasn’t this person supposed to get enough sleep during the day if they were working the night shift?

Owen rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Hey. Excuse me?”

No answer. The woman just nodded her head again, this time nearly striking the counter. Owen thrusted his hand out and caught her by the shoulder.

“Hey, lady. Wake up, your shift isn’t over.”

The cashier struggled to open her eyes. The little part of her sclera that Owen could see was a sickly yellow tint, as though she’d been affected by jaundice. The woman’s head rolled slightly backward as she drew in a shaky breath.

Her nostrils caught Owen’s attention. Her nose hairs, as sticky and disgusting as they were, appeared a bright green color, and were overgrown into a woven fiber that left barely enough holes for her to breath.

“What the fuck?” Owen muttered out loud. He hopped over the counter to lay the barely-conscious woman down so that she wouldn’t fall on her own.

As he scanned over the inside of the store, he noticed a young girl glancing over bottles of pills. She was fairly small, with the same yellowish appearance as the cashier. Her shoulder-length green hair seemed to bounce every time she moved and threw yellow dust into the air. Her stretched floral button-up and holstered belt, stocked with several cased packages, was far too unordinary to belong to a civilian.

“Hey!” Owen called out.

The girl quickly set the pill bottle down and turned to face Owen, staring with stars in her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” The girl responded. She reached into her pocket and drew a black wallet. “You know there’s a curfew at 11 PM.”

“No there isn’t.” Owen replied immediately. He walked out from behind the counter. By her strange appearance and what she did to the cashier, Owen could only conclude she was a demihuman. Plant based powers? A black wallet?

The girl flipped open the black wallet, showing a badge from a distance. It was a dark bronze badge, with six green lines forming into a rough G.

“Hey, wait, you’re Chlora! Of the Dranfort Guardianship!” Owen exclaimed. He knew a little about Chlora. She’s a rescue operative since she had the ability to sense light and carbon dioxide through walls. “I should’ve guessed from your hair.”

“Yes, I am Chlora. Now, answer my question. What are you doing here?” Chlora glared at Owen, clenching her fist. Her movements were stiff.

“I’m here to buy some things. Personal things.” Owen shuffled over to the contraception aisle and started looking around for Anessa’s request. Red condoms.

Chlora didn’t seem to relent. Her footsteps sounded like someone walking through celery. She walked up behind him.

“Um. I can’t buy the stuff I need with you watching.” Owen said, without looking back.

“I’m on patrol and you’re breaking curfew, so I’m going to watch you.” Chlora replied.

“Breaking curfew? I’m probably older than you. You should be in bed.”

“Are you a registered hero on patrol?”

“Are you? And, why are you patrolling in a pharmacy?”

Owen’s last question echoed through the empty building as he turned on his heel. The hero didn’t respond. She gave a blank stare as a few bits of what looked like pollen fell out of her hair.

“See,” Owen began, “A guardian should make us feel secure when we’re buying contraceptives. You know, guarding. Not patrolling random pharmacies with an unconscious...cashier. Wait. Did you knock her out?”

Chlora fumed, clenching her hand into a fist. “Careful what you say, man. You’re so lucky that Tramp ain’t-”

“Don’t pull your Tramp card on me.” Owen hissed. He gave a glance over his shoulder just to make sure that nobody was really there.

“I’ll get the whole Guardianship on your ass!” Chlora grit her teeth, grinding them against each other loud enough to cause discomfort. “I can’t have civilians like yourself and the cashier interfering with my patrol.”

“Oh god, are you going to bowling-ball my face too? Knock me out and keep me from interfering?” Owen sighed.

“Not unless you give me a reason to.”



Uh...Chlora is acting weird. Owen should do something about it, right? RIGHT?


1. Owen attacks Chlora first (hand to hand). The faster he takes down the hero, the quicker he can get the (hopefully conscious) cashier to check out his stuff and make his way home. After all, the hero was threatening him.
2. Owen takes his stuff to the cash register, checks it out himself, pays, and leaves without an altercation with Chlora. Hopefully Chlora won’t go about doing something.


3. Owen instigates Chlora to attack, effectively giving her a reason. If she attacks first, it would only prove his point. Owen would also try to avoid being “bowling-balled” as well.
4. Owen argues semantics with her. Feeling the need to call out what she is doing as a private investigator.


Voting/Discussion Thread: Here!
Participants:
The Regal Rper The Regal Rper
Noivian Noivian
Idea Idea
Miniapollo17 Miniapollo17
The Omen of Death The Omen of Death
B BlueClover
Prayforthewickedeveryday Prayforthewickedeveryday




 

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