Recent Statuses

5 mos ago
"I know this." "You do?" "Hentai!"
1 yr ago
Somebody, please, kill me before I have to see the RPG Status Bar turn into an argument over Feminism. I don't think the Guild can handle anymore issues at present, let alone Feminism.
1 yr ago
When people get angry and defensive over a comment seemingly fired at the sky, you gotta stop to wonder if they're pissed cause they think it's false or if they're pissed cause it's true ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
1 yr ago
Pull it
1 yr ago
@Otaku95 well in that case I guess we wont have to ask you to miss, you'll just take it upon yourself to do the job of your own volition. I can see why you have the highest honours, you go girl.


Hahahahaha no

Most Recent Posts

~ The Gravity of the Situation ~

"Fuckin', would y'at'least warn me before you's do shit like that again?!" Rebecca shouted to her Stone Magical Girl compatriot as they flew against the floor of the Overcity, using her sword stabbed into the ground as a quick and easy way to slow down. Being crushed, beating eaten, being launched across the world, her day was just getting better by the second. She scarcely had time to recognise the other girls that they had happened upon, before another shift occurred. The Boss had talked about the Overcity a bit, same with some of the members who had the ability to shift in the first place, but arriving in a different place than she had started still disoriented her.

She took a second to look around, checking the other Magical Girls and Boy she would have to fight with, aiming to recognise some. Aurelio - an Empath with Beacon, she had heard - as well as the Twin Soul, who the Informants still had barely reported on. And that girl, Lily, who the Surveyors claimed showed up nearly everywhere there was something going down. Rebecca wasn't versed on their abilities, but at the very least they had numbers, disregarding the cultist mooks.

With a sigh, she, with a bit of difficulty, wiped some of the tar from her hands and blade, and prepared for combat. Except for the one issue she quickly noticed.
"Right you's are 'avin a fuckin' laugh, aye?" she called out to the rest of the Mahou, staring up at the sky, Abigail, the Mana Beast, and the veritable meteors that were being hurled, "How in the fuck d'you's expect to kill 'er when she's in tha' fuckin' sky?!"

Casting a glance about, Rebecca began to resent her luck. With a sword and zero capacity for flight, how in the hell was she to get up there? She looked at Shannon, taunting the enemy, and wrote her off as "soon to be dead". She looked at Lily, doing Lily things. And then she looked at Aurelio, using the mist to cast his enhancement spells. Then she looked at the beam of mist the creature was firing at Abigail, and had an epiphany. The whole area was dark - curtsy of the fog veil that covered the graveyard. In the nooks and crannies of the graves, and far above in the air, where the light of Lily's death lightning and the glow of the Mana Beast couldn't reach, Rebecca had an opening.

Bolstered by Aurelio's aura of hope, she ran to the side of the field, where the Tar Baby had just been crushed. Among the debris of destroyed monster and gravestones, with the light of Lily's Killing Blow illuminating the field, a deep shadow was cast. As soon as she had come across a good spot, Rebecca sunk into it, and began the first of what would become numerous, consecutive shadow steps. With her skill and mana capacity, it wasn't a good idea to perform long distance jumps, but she could maintain a steady stream of short steps for a fair distance.

So she dashed from shadow to shadow, along the outskirts of the graveyard, hugging close to the fog veil and up into the air through the darkness. By the time Lily's Killing Blow had reached its mark, Rebecca would be in place - much higher in the air than she had originally anticipated, but she had faith. As far as she could tell it was probably the lingering effects of Aurelio's enhancement, though that didn't change the feeling. She knew she would survive the fall.

With the thought in mind she launched herself out of the shadows, sword outstretched, and aiming for the bubble on the back of the Mana Beast. With gravity as her ally, and the last remnants of her mana dredged together into her blade in the form of a lifedraining curse, she plunged downwards. With any luck, she would puncture the bubble, and using her remaining momentum, tear the Mana Beast open from behind, spray its mist across the entire battlefield.

~ Sticky Situations ~

"Argh, ya fuckin' kidding me!" Rebecca shouted, withdrawing her face from the tar spray, whilst simultaneously struggling with her blade. She had always lacked strength, but in all her time as a Magical Girl, it had never come back to bite her as badly as it had done now. With both her sword and hands effectively glued together in the thing, her number of strategies had suddenly become incredibly limited.

She attempted to twist her body in a certain way, to drag the blade with the uncomfortable position she would create and cleave through the thing to free herself, but as she did, the ground beneath her collapsed. The start of her manoeuvre crushed her into the body of the beast alongside the rubble of the graveyard, filling her mouth with dirt as she attempted to shout curses at whatever had just put her in the literal grave.

Unable to move, even less than before, Rebecca had but one option. She couldn't see, or hear, or taste anything but dirt, or feel anything but pain and tar, but she could cast spells. Her hands were still gripped to the sword. The Tar Baby launched them both out of the tomb Shannon had made, allowing it to crawl along her body even more, keeping the pain going from being crushed, but there was little time to worry about that.

Instead, within the tar beings huge form, her blade began to glow once again, as Rebecca dumped her mana into a continuous stream of life draining curses. Her magical abilities weren't great, and her capacity and output were limited, but at the very least, she could weaken it a bit.
"Oi, whoeva the fucks down there!" she shouted, hoping Shannon would be able to hear, "Do you's wanna fuckin' help, or are ya' gonna keep jerkin' off while the cunt eats us both?!"


~ Joyce ~

Keeping a close eye on Silhouette, Katelyn prepared her assault. She had watched the two fight, if only for a little bit, but even such a short time was enough to glean that Silhouette was a skilled close range fighter - easily better at the art than Shona. A one on one between the knight and assassin had an obvious victor. But with Katelyn introduced, combining her magic and skill with Shona's own, she had fair amount of hope that the two of them could bring the tide to their favour.

She barely caught the glare Shona stared back at her with. In the periphery of her vision, near enough unnoticed, Katelyn saw Shona ready her magic, and heard the words she wasn't prepared to hear. They weren't just insults - they were a threat. A threat she almost didn't notice, let alone react to. Instinct demanded the draw of her attention, snapping her head to face the knight as she charged. The one Beacon Buddy she hadn't had the opportunity to fight. The ally strategy had shattered in seconds.

"Where are you looking, Katy~?"

A voice she hadn't heard in so, so long, rang in Katelyn's head again. The sickly sweet, taunting words of Joyce, with her magic and her staff. Laughing at her from across the training field for spacing out again. Vanishing from one point, only to appear right in front of her, kick out her legs, and grab her by the hand before she fell to the dirt.

"No no, we can't have that~! Someone's gonna take advantage of your cuteness if you don't pay attention~"

She didn't have to be told a second time. Katelyn's offensive stance dropped instantly her reflexes took over, spinning the spear into a defensive position as she kicked back from the attack. From the look of the fight, it was obvious who that she the fastest of the three, but in the seconds between the attack beginning and when it would invariably connect, there was no time to charge The Dragon's Wings. Her wings flapped a small amount, bolstered by her magic, creating a gust of wind enough to lift her from the ground.

Shona was a close range fighter, her sword and shield made that obvious. How high she could climb with those barriers was a question Katelyn couldn't answer, but at the very least, climbing up to her position above the battlefield would reduce Shona's mobility by a little bit. That was all she needed.
"Some Beacon member." Katelyn spat back, with words laced in a venom equal to Shona's own, built up over years of anger, "Your people were willing to let Janet Howell live, but here you are protecting the scum of the Ebon Mint."

Arcs of electricity lashed out from her body, down the spear, and into the air, as she raised her weapon in Shona's direction, preparing to attack.
"Fine... I'll kill you both then." she said, her tone dying down to a cold, toxic acceptance, before the electrical energy built to a crescendo. Another explosive boom echoed out across the mausoleum, as Katelyn loosed a second railgun shot, aimed to demolish Shona's defences, and kill her swiftly.

~ Deviation ~

Rebecca tentatively pressed into the fog wall, her gaze firmly fixated on her surroundings for any kind of signs or signals to where she might be going. The dense shroud that covered the graveyard, the oppressive aura she could feel making her way through it, everything indicated that she shouldn't be where she was. Even her shadow steps barely provided any ground clearance, but it wasn't like she would be able to tell, not under the veil of smoke. But that oppression kept her moving forwards. Such an occurrence, there was no doubt Beacon would show up, and if they did, The Seraph would be among them. What a perfect chance she had - all she really had to do was find the girl.

Better said than done.

For a moment, she thought she had some semblance of her bearings. Bravaan's voice lingered in the back of her mind, accompanied by the words of Christine. She needed to fight, and destroy her opponents, and complete her objective. Becoming a Tasker, Rebecca had thought this kind of work would be left to others. That her days would be spent scouring the city for graffiti and blog URLs, dredging up information of Fears and the like, and investigating potential threats or informants. Despite her earlier protest to the job, a modicum of joy crept its way into her mind. Bravaan's influence, surely, but it held weight. There was a tangible sense of accomplishing something worth while.

As she thought, she stumbled into what began to look like a clearing. The smoke was less dense - she could see more of her surroundings. And what she could see was strange. A beast of a being, some black and viscous form, that... seemed to be attacking another girl. But just past that, there was a veil - something she could see through, among and between the fog. People she hadn't seen before, except for one - the profile of Alicia. Crisis crossed her mind. A hand clutched the hilt of her blade, and she looked back and forth between the two scenes. Her mission was right there. She could start completing it immediately, get the worst over and done with.

"Why do you want to join, exactly?"

"Ah... We, wan't ta do somin' good. 'Elp some people or, or... or somethin', ah dunno."

With a running start, Rebecca drew her sword, and grasped it with both hands. As she approached, she brought it down to her left side, letting the blade face diagonally down towards the ground, whilst charging it with her magic, until she came upon the thing. This giant, awful beast. Near enough in melee range, she swung across and diagonally up, aiming for one of the Tar Baby's legs, her sword brimming with an immobility curse, hoping to sever the limb in its entirety. Whether the curse would be effective or not, she didn't know, nor whether she was physically strong enough to cut off such a creatures leg, but she had to try.

Regardless of whether the attack was successful, and provided she wasn't restrained in anyway, she would immediately pull back into a defensive stance - positioning the katana vertically and on her right side, preparing to deflect any attacks that came her way.



~ Search and Destroy ~

She had flown a fair distance, just to reach the graveyard. Now that Cindy Ford's little usurpation of Penrose was no longer the biggest event, she had no need of heading there. This was a much more important, and vast, scenario. Without hesitation, Katelyn dove into the fog barrier, intent on making her way to the heart of the place as quickly as possible. Unless something drew her attention along the way. Whether this was the fault, in some way, of Cindy and her group, she couldn't tell, but the stench of a Horror lingered over the area. She had encountered Horror servants before. Killed Horror servants before. Graveyards and mysterious smoke was a trade tradition, at this point.

The moment she landed in the area, what looked to be some kind of Mausoleum, her eyes went to the surroundings. From the outset, she spotted what looked like four Magical Girls of some kind, and numerous minions surrounding the area. Tentacled abhorrences, that tallied three in her mind. Two of the four did battle with the minions, doing their best to clear them out, but struggling. She had never seen them before, but the other two... she recognised immediately, even with them both locked into battle. One of them was that girl, the knight, from when The Bates had attacked her. Revenge made itself known for a second, until her eyes flicked to the last combatant.

In a few seconds, she summoned her spear, the white lightning arc plunging through the fog wall to her hand, whereupon she raised it, pointing the tip towards the two fighters. The next second was filled with the sound barrier breaking, and the tip firing off towards them, most likely capable enough to kill the intended target with a single shot if she didn't dodge of somehow block it. But the spear railgun wasn't the end, as Katelyn leapt her way towards the two, ignoring Mika, Lupa, and Sil's Shade entirely.

"Hey there, Silhouette. I've been looking for you." she said coldly, channelling her magic to regenerate the tip of her spear, the blade and handle crackling with residual electricity; if Sil wasn't dead from the railgun, she would watch Katelyn stroll up towards Shona, eyeing her target from the corner of her eye, "You must be Shona, I've read about you. Remember me?" she grasped the spear, angling it towards Silhouette, but keeping a watchful eye in case Shona attempted anything against her, "Apologies for breaking up your fight, but this one is mine to kill."

"You want to meet them?" began a voice from one side of a table. The muscled hand of Sasha Kasparov rested over the tablecloth, elevating a tablet a few centimetres above, displaying one of the more recent articles from The Independent. Published by Christine West, in regards to the stadium attack two weeks prior.

"Do you disapprove?" replied a second voice,belonging to The Boss, leant back in her favoured chair, at her favoured table, in her favoured restaurant - the Nerine Vista, "Nobody has called it a 'Blog', not before Lee. He's not from around here."

"Yes, Ma'am. I disapprove. Have you even looked into him yet?" came the thick, Russian accent, as she pressd onto the account linked to the comment, only to be greeted with with the words 'like%20i%27m%20stupid%20enough%20to%20provide%20my%20blog%20link%20here’s server IP address could not be found.'

The Boss let the question hang for a moment, as she reached for her glass, and drank deeply from it.
"The Taskers gave him a once over, and the Surveyors are already doing a location sweep. He's not as clever as he thinks, I'll give you that for free." as she looked up from placing the glass back down, she caught Sasha's eyes. They were still unconvinced.

"What about the footage? Did you find him there?"

"I doubt he was at the stadium. Even if he was, Christine only watched the combat. No way of knowing what went on outside of that." when she finished, her phone began to vibrate. She pulled the device from her pocket, and read the message that had been sent - from Olympia.

"Ma'am, with respect, we know nothing about him. Yes, we have information, but not enough. If fight breaks out and he overpowers - or kills - someone with us? And why are we focussing on this than The Bate's threa-" her opposition was cut short, as The Boss raised her hand. Sasha eyed the phone, attempting to gauge what kind of message it had been, and comparing the ideas to the smile She wore.

"Really, who cares how strong he is, when I'm bringing you and Christine along?" she replied, before sliding the phone across the table to her friend, "Something more important just happened anyway, love. They met up at last."

Warily, Sasha read the message, listed under the contact simply named "Olympia"

002 and 003 together
Weather distortion spotted, looks in line with Surveyor report

Sasha sighed.
"That is twice you have been right today."

The Boss let out a chuckle in response, before pulling the phone back and standing from the table.
"C'mon, it's been four years now, you should be used to it." a short walk away, she came to the window, and looked out through the one way glass to the street, and the people milling about outside, "Now then... work me a miracle, Penny Asimov."


Disparate Pieces

The Vixen took a back seat as Cindy, Lily, Alex, and the crowd of monsters arrived on the roof. It had barely been any time at all since her Bleeding, but with so many people - so much potential - around her, the flame of lust began to kindle itself once again. But she needed to keep control. She had a purpose for being here. It took effort, and more mental strain than she thought she reliably had, but she forced the flame down. Just until she finished what she needed to do.

However, before she could get to her purpose, she found herself, and the rest of those present, distracted by the weather show behind them. With her own bestial magic, she focused her eyes, gauging the intensity of the disruption in that direction. She hadn't been a magical girl that long, but the creation of tornadoes was somethingt she was entirely unfamiliar with. Lily was right, a Horror seemed fairly likely, especially if it was coming from the graveyard that one of Cindy's crew directed to, but The Vixen cared little.

She turned back towards Cindy, hoping to get to the reason she was there, but found herself, once again, cut off - this time by the rest of the girls that had arrived venturing off towards the disturbance. The girl on the motorbike, the girl with fire, the girl with stone. Things were getting annoying now.
"Wait a minute, Cindy." she finally got out, now that things had calmed down, "I want to work with you. It looks to me like you have a lot of Monster Girls. I think I'd fit ri-"

Her proposal was cut off by another voice from behind. She had to force herself to stop, the annoyance of being cut off and stopped one too many times breaking the barrier she had tried so hard to maintain in the past minutes. The embers that made up her mental instability flared back into life, no longer satiated by the previous night, and the hunger drove itself back into the forefront of her mind. She turned herself to face the speaker, ready to kill them, when she heard the name.


"No..." with wide eyes, the tension that had built up in The Vixen's body tightened even further, as she locked gazes with Penny, "You're too early... you weren't meant to be here yet..!" involuntarily, The Vixen took a step back, up to the edge of the rooftop of Penrose Town Hall. Penny had arrived at the worst time. Hunger swelled within her, and friend or foe, it didn't care.

There was only one recourse. She could feel it taking over - her mind switching modes, passing the controls off from "Thalia" and onto "The Vixen". Beyond her control, her tails swirled together, forming a nine coiled mess of burnt and bloody fur, which rose into the sky behind her like a scorpion's sting, over the top of her equally burnt, and torn, red robes.
"...Sorry." were the only words she got out, before energy built up behind her, firing a beam of fire from the tips of her tails, aimed directly at Penny.

The beam lasted for barely a few seconds, enough time to create a distraction, before Thalia dropped off the side of the building, clearly intent on running.



Rebecca took a moment, atop the roof. She banished her weapon, hoping to keep her nerves in check, and took to rereading the document Christine had passed onto her. It was covered in a few blocks of text, practically an essays worth, detailing her “story”. The stuff written there was in almost disturbing detail. The concepts, the ideas, and the motivations were scarily in line with Rebecca herself: how she might have felt; acted; believed - some years ago.

If this was the kind of detail necessary to get past a magical lie detector, then she was all for it, but still, she held a slight amount of concern to how She had created something so accurate. Charlotte must have told her everything. Twin Soul she may have been, but that girl hadn’t yet learnt the power of information. Ever since that Beacon article screw up...

Weather distortion spotted
006 is a Beacon member, and will most likely head there
See Surveyor Data: _____

Rebecca’s phone buzzed with information. The number belonged to the Support Centre, Surveyor Division, and attached was a link. Pressing it opened the usual fanfare, confetti and digital fireworks included, and brought up the app the Surveyor Division had specially designed, with its various, ridiculous, and unnecessary embellishments. Why She greenlit something like it to be used for the Independent was beyond her. The moment the app opened, it switched to the view the link had provided her - a satellite image of a Penrose City, with a single, static dot, over what appeared to be a graveyard.

With a sigh, Rebecca resummoned her weapon, and took a few steps across the roof, to the door Christine had exited from some minutes ago. She stepped down the staircase, into the building, and then into the shadow of one of the rooms, only to disappear entirely.

Presumed Terror Attack Wracks Penrose Following Cathedral Destruction

Written By: Rebecca Suthers

The dark clouds that surround Penrose seem to grow ever dimmer each day, with no sign of reprieve. Serial killings and terrorist attacks almost seem common place in this society of ours - a statement no man nor woman should ever have to make with serious intent. With such awful events occurring on a near enough daily basis, it is to be wondered if the streets of Penrose will ever return to their once and former safety - and if the people that walk them will ever trust that peace again.

(The Penrose Preternatural) Dozens Dead in Magical Skirmish at Penrose Stadium

Written By: Christine West

The word "Catastrophe" scarcely does the days incident justice. With as many parties involved as their were, it was inevitable for a large number of civilian casualties. But, as we have been informed by onsite Reporters, who assisted in recovering bodies with the emergency services, the numbers of dead built up over the course of the battle were "truly staggering".

Following a monster attack on a stadium full of civilians awaiting a baseball game set to take place that day, the arrival of a number of Magical Girls - including one, seemingly a stimulating factor to the destruction, and presumed servant of a Horror - began the spiral of death that persisted until a Greater Horror, spawned by some or another Patron, was slain.


On A Mission

The Vixen had been missing for days. Her time spent in the Overcity took much longer than she originally intended; the charge up of her newly gained Overcity Shift was much longer than any typical usage of Evolution, and once the bloodlust had subsided she understood why. Third Eye allowed her to see entrances to the Overcity, but actually opening them was a different endeavour altogether. It took a special skillset, a special kind of poweer - one she herself didn't possess. But that girl did, one of the Beacon operatives who accompanied Alicia to the Cathedral.

When she finally emerged from The Overcity, she was on the outskirts of Penrose. As calmly as possible, minding her own hunger and lust, she mad her way back to the lair. She had no intentions of staying long. A few days later, she would abandon the place, leaving a blood drenched lair, filled with refuse, broken pieces of her kills, and their weaponry. The ritual folllowed soon after, for days when nothing could satiate her boken mind. Bleeding herself, to feel the pain, and then consuming that blood, to appease a sense of taste, and drown out the lust for a little while more. And then she would sleep. And the next day, the cycle would repeat.

What a horrid creature she had become.


In the two weeks since the Cathedral incident, The Vixen had relocated twice. Kills had been limited, Magical Girls and mundane humans alike had begun paying closer attention to how things were around them. The Penrose Independent, publishing their stories on her movements, her kills. Nobody had come after her since Olympia attacked her, but the encounter left her paranoid, on edge, evcen more so than usual. Bloodlust left her weak most days, on top of the bleeding, forcing her to seek more inadequate means of satisfaction, both for her hunger, and sanity.

The end of the two weeks, though, spelt something different. The voice of Cindy Ford rang across the city, rousing her from a slumber perturbed and barely passable. Her robes remained damp and sticky with the last nights blood, but heat dried them out quickly. Just another part of her daily routine, something she barely needed to think about. Her attention was soundly drawn elsewhere - to the self proclomation of Penrose this entity made. Better judgement would have kept her out of the situation. Beacon, The Mint - every Magical Girl faction, Patron, and otherwise, would almost inevitably wind up at the location of the transmission. It was only a matter of time.

But better judgement had never been The Vixen's strong suit, even less so now. Mad as she have been, she was still smart. This made sense, this was rigt, this would be helpful. She packed up what terribly few belongings she had left, barely even enough to fill a pocket. A cellphone, a photograph, a key to a storage container, and nothing more. She emerged from a door, into a dimlit back alley of Penrose, where not even the sun could reach thanks to the angles of the buildings. And then she ran.

Far. Fast. The Vixen emerged from a fire escape, up the wall of some apartment complex, and dashed across one roof to another. Up a second wall and down a third, then across a busy street, along a windowsill, and finally, up the side and onto the roof of Penrose Town Hall. There, two girls waited for her. Two girls she had never come across before, addressing the mysterious "Cindy Ford". She eyed them warily, the blades sliding out of her gauntlets, and a pressure building at the back of her mind, in the face of potential prey.

"Who the hell are you two," she growled, mentally and physically prepared for a fight in seconds, "And where's Cindy Ford?"


Primary Objective

Atop a nearby building, just a few blocks away from Penrose Town Hall, but with a clear view of the structure, a Magical Girl stood, observing the scene. Her light brown hair flittered in the wind, as she held a somewhat rigid stance. Waiting for something. One hand on the scabbard of her blade, and one at her side, occasionally brushing her locks out of her eyes, Rebecca Suthers stood waiting.

Some minutes following, a second girl entered onto the roof. The stairwell door opened with some difficulty in the wind, but eventually, from behind Rebecca, the tanned skin, teenage form of Christine approached.
"Looks like The Vixen turned up." she commented, pointing off towards the Town Hall, where the many tailed figure of The Vixen had just launched herself onto the roof, "Guess the Boss was right after all..."

"Fuck d'ya mean she was right? What, she predicted this shite?"

"When Cindy Ford made her announcement. 'This'll attract near enough everyone in Penrose. The Mint, Beacon, the Patronless - hell, I'll bet The Vixen will be there.'"

Rebecca sighed, looking back from the building and to Christine, who was holding a sheet of paper.
"Guess she's always been good at predictin', eh?" there was an obvious tinge of anxiety to her voice; that confident, Scottish accent she presented to Lee and the Timberwolves was dimished greatly, "Issat me story?"

Christine nodded, and handed the sheet over.
"The better target is Alicia. Penny doesn't exactly have much sway in the Beacon, but you should be aware that, if the Informants are right, Alicia has a Light Specialisation." she paused for a second, to let Rebecca take in the information of the sheet.

"And? What's this vague-as-shite story got's to do with some cunt's Specialisation?" Rebecca queried in response.

"It means she can tell if you're lying." with those words, a semblance of realisation dawned on Rebecca's face, "That's why your story is vague. As long as what you say is truthful in a non-explicit sense, the Boss thinks you'll be fine."

"Are you's 'avin a fuckin' laugh? You want me ta' go up to a fuckin', a fuckin'-" a heightened sense of panic rose in Rebecca's voice, "Beacon operative an' 'ope she doesn' notice 'ah ain't being truthlike? You're shittin' me!"

"Or be suspended. Like your sister. Somebody more competent can do your job if you wont. You might be a Tasker now, but you're still a Journalist." Christine fired back, her threat clearly striking a chord, "Just... stick to the story. You'll be fine, okay? Sasha is on standby in case you need to be evacuated."

The anxiety didn't fade much at all with the promise of a safety net, but even still, the shaky Rebecca nodded her head.
"Fine, 'ah... aight, 'ah can... 'ah can do this... 'ah can do this."

Christine took a step away from the edge of the roof.
"I'll see you back at the Vista. Sasha will meet you when you leave, and escort you back." With that, she swung back open the door to the stairwell, and made her way out of the building - leaving Rebecca to ruminate, and prepare.


Preliminary Preparation

Will you attend the summons?

The voice of The Lady crept into her head. Katelyn was shacked up in what could only be described as a home - or, at least, what had been her home for the past while. It was far the traditional stereotypes people created for a monster's lair. Members of The Web had provided her with an apartment, poorly looked after, and lacking any real size, but it did its job well. She rarely stuck around, but still, the three room place had become as much a home to her as her old home. Back before she became a Monster Girl.

"Why should I?" she asked back aloud, breaking the silent air of her apartment with the question. Besides the living room kitchen combo, and the bathroom, the only other room the apartment possessed was the bedroom - where Katelyn found herself sat. Atop her bed, tail and wings stretched out behind her, this was the most comfortable she could ever be. And yet, the room barely held comfort at all. It was bland, lacking any kind of proper furniture besides the bed and a wardrobe. The curtains were drawn perpetually closed, with the only lightsource beind the overhead lights, illuminating the white-beige walls fully.

The only thing of note in the room was the corkboard that lined the majority of wall beside her bed. And, more particularly, its contents. Dozens upon dozens of photographs lined it, pinned to the wall with an equal number of pieces of paper: news articles, from the Penrose Independent and various other sources; hazy photographs from bystanders; evidence of dubious nature. Every inch reeked of "conspiracy theory".
She is calling everyone to challenge her rule. They will likely attend.

Katelyn twitched.
"Yes, but-" her words were cut off by another burst of sound within her head.
You remember our contract, do you not?

"Of course I do!" she shouted, frustration mounting in her voice, "I just... need to prepare."

"You know what for. I'm not stupid, you can read my thoughts. You know exactly what I'm preparing for." the anger that rose within her for a moment subsided quickly. She couldn't afford anger. She didn't deserve emotion. This was a mission, that had to be surgically, and tactically, performed. Her fight with Elroy and his lackies showed her that much. Running in with the plan to completely annihlate wasn't good enough anymore. These people were stronger than she originally thought. If she wanted to deal any real damage - make any real headway on her goals - she needed strategy.
You're abandoning her?

Silence lingered for palpable moments. Katelyn was still, and quiet, reminiscing for some time. Staring at the corkboard.
"That way of fighting... just doesn't suit me..." she finally said, with a slight chuckle, thinking back to the good times - so many years ago, "I don't think I can ever really be like that... I was fast, but she was always better. Always."

Another pregnant pause followed. The Lady said nothing, Katelyn said nothing. Unlike before, though, this silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was consensual - neither was willing to break it, nor what it represented in that moment. However, after nearly a minute, Katelyn finally forced herself up from the bed. She donned her disguise, grabbed a jacket from her wardrobe, and made her way into the living room.
Where do you plan to go?

"I know you know that too." Katelyn retorted, as she pulled out a door key, and exited the apartment, "You're right... They probably will be there. Now is the best opportunity I have."

Panic. A marginalised sense of fear that exponentially grew from stress inducing stimuli. She had kept it down for a short while, baiting it out and restraining it for the shortest of periods, to garner a brief, barely usable amount of time. She didn't have a choice - it didn't matter the tedium, there was importance in what she had to do. She had never been a mult-itasker, but to call this mismanagement of time, or lack of experience, or even just a mistake would be the greatest underestimation since the advent of the concept.

Cassandra had broken out into a full-on sprint. She weaved through streets, calling upon a mental map, listened with way-points, checkpoints and beacons of various kinds to navigate what otherwise would have been a complex route. This wasn't her first time running it, and God knew it wouldn't be the last, but committing it to memory made the trek slightly more bearable. Occasionally she got ahead of herself: failing to remember a pothole, or stumbling into an entirely new one; near enough, or sometimes entirely, barrelling into another pedestrian; making a miss turn in her boundless rush. If she hadn't learnt the route by heart it couldn't be told where she would end up.

Direction, balance, navigation - all skills she could display flawlessly in Universe. Of course, she had a digital map in there.

"Watch where 'ya fuckin' running, love!" the voice of one such hapless pedestrian called out, as Cassie tore through the street, only barely shouting back a "Sorry mate!" before she ducked into one of the many alleyways that dotted the run. Bundled up in one hand was a string bag, held taught in her fist to stop it swinging about as she ran. It was a reusable one, something she picked up a few years ago, because no way in hell was she paying for the luxury to carry things home.

With a few more turns, and a couple more incidents of dubious socially aware nature, she stumbled her way to her door. Out of breath and more than a bit embarrassed by the sorry affair that was her life, she fumbled her key into the multiple keyholes lining the metal shield, and pushed her way in, locking the door behind herself. But she had no time to rest - being in the house meant nothing, and the run was simply a test of her courage, her tenacity, and her dedication. The true challenge came now.

Immediately as she pushed through the central entrance way, she came into living room. Kitchen on her left, overlooking the settee straight ahead, shitty TV just to the right, and all the furniture pushed squarely into the walls for the Arc System in the centre. Treadmill, headset, gloves - everything she needed. As the largest room in the apartment, it made the most sense to station the thing there. Not like the workshop or bedroom could fit it, and the bathroom, oddly enough, didn't make much sense.

Cassandra kicked off her shoes, tossed the bag onto the counter to her left, and ran up to the Arc System, powering it up. With the new commotion nearby, something on the sofa stirred awake, rising herself from slumber with a powerful stretch and yawn.
"Alright you princess bitch, it's done, you hear me?" she called over to the sleeping figure, as she ducked back into the kitchen. From the bag, she pulled out a pouch, just as the figure herself ran in behind her and up to a bowl with a soft mew.

In one swift movement, Cassie tore the package open, and pushed the food out in front of the cat. As always, Isabella took priority. She knelt down beside the thing, as she dug into the wet food that had been graciously bestowed from above, and ran her fingers through her absurdly long fur.
"You've got enough for a week now, you best not bother me like that again, you God damned... snuggle muffin." Even attempting to scold her was a wasted exercise, as with a sigh she gave in, and took off to her Arc System.

Not moments later did she have the gear set up, and ready to run. Giving one last, cursory glass over to Isabella, who had moved onto licking the edges of the bowl, and the surrounding floor, clean, Cassandra pulled the visor down over her head, and let her vision be overtaken.

:: Identification Chip Verified.
:: Universe OS Version Up To Date.
:: Welcome To The Universe, Freischutz.

The purple suited, still armoured up avatar of Freischutz materialised into the War Room, where she had just previously, and unceremoniously, logged off. They were barely finished with the fight when Isabella had begun to beg for food. The cat was a glutenous sod, and could eat her weight three times over if anyone let her, Cassie understood that well. But she had already been fed hours prior - no cat should be able to eat that much food.

"Alright bitches, I'm back!" She announced. Moments after she had logged in, Freischutz took to de-equipping her gear. Shaed still equipped, guns still very obviously on her person, there had been practically no downtime. Between the raid and the run, mentally and physically she was exhausted. But at the very least, she was done now.

"Not dead, just tired as shit." she threw back to Ataxia, whose conversation she caught the arse end of as she joined, "You lot aren't still counting credits, are you? I just wanna escape the work, don't make me do moooooreeee." she cried, dropping herself onto a nearby chair, "Slaves, I'm telling 'ya. Sheeple, all of you!"

With the last comment, the irony was not lost on her.

@CaptainSully Oof, Didn't realise that there was an intended weapon limit, I just went on the supposed impression that they had a fairly sized inventory, so it made sense to carry a fair number of weapons. Glad it's not an issue.

As for the Shaed, Yeah, it reduces damage and grants invisibility in darkness, though I had intended to alter a part but completely forgot to. The invisibility portion has been properly rewritten to be a bit clearer on its actual function. In the books, the MC survives what should have been a fatal stab with only a shallow cut, and is able to sneak past a group of trained bandits easily.

Hope that sorts things out.
Here's my updated and reformatted CS. Not entirely sure whether or not my Artifact is actually worth anything as an Artifact, but fuck it, hopefully this is good.

@Drippy Implying that a) the Government cares about the NHS, and b) it actually works in the fucking first place.
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