RE: A CYOA in Worm or I think my name is No No
09-07-2020, 05:03 PM (This post was last modified: 09-07-2020, 05:06 PM by Rajvik.)
09-07-2020, 05:03 PM (This post was last modified: 09-07-2020, 05:06 PM by Rajvik.)
AN: Apparently i have forgotten to update this here.
**Taylor**
There were two main topics of discussion the next day. The Wards Debut, and the reporter who had managed to make an ass out of himself during it, filled up the morning’s gossip, to the extent of being commented on in Mrs. Jackson’s history class as an example of the extremes that political correctness could go to. By lunch though our debut had been overshadowed by the fact that the Drama and Glee Clubs had decided to go in together to put on a production of Little Shop of Horrors. “The problem,” Vicky’s friend Tabitha, who was in the Drama club, said morosely, “is that the voices of all the boys in both groups are cracking and none of them can seem to keep a note for more than two heartbeats.”
“Of course, that’s the ones that can carry a tune. Of the others that can,” Samantha, another member of the drama club cut in, “either they don’t want the starring role, or they can’t remember their lines. Finally, we have a severe shortage of males in the first place. It is almost as if someone is trying to sabotage our efforts for the city showcase this year.”
“Now, now,” Amy said, waving a fork with a bit of salad around in one hand, while reading the script of the play with the other. “I doubt anyone is trying to sabotage us that way.” She paused a moment in thought before continuing, “Though here’s an idea, why not gender flip at least the starring role, if not the whole thing?”
The Drama club students seemed to ponder that for a few moments before Samantha piped up, “It could be done.” With that, the group was off on that tangent of who could possibly do what role, and what scenes it would allow them to do.
**
**Emily Piggot**
“Furthermore,” James Tagg continued from his position on the screen, “the residents seem to have finally realized that rushing the portal point is only going to get them shot, even if it is with less than lethal ammunition or confoam.”
“Thank you for your report James,” the Chief Director said in her window and received a nod from the man in charge of the Madison containment zone. “Now, Emily, you said you had a potentially good thing brought to your attention?”
“Yes ma’am,” I answered. “My niece recently joined me from Japan where a major investor has arranged a series of concerts to encourage people to be in their Endbringer shelters. She suggested we tap into that idea and assist by arranging for our shelters to do the same.”
“Who is this investor and how are they affording to do this when the odds of any given city being hit are slim?” Director Armstrong asked, rubbing his hands together.
“Kuno Industries,” I answered. “The current CEO ordered it and when they built their shelters after the sinking of Kyushu, they outfitted them to be usable as concert halls as well as shelters.”
The Chief Director nodded, “I could see city administrators liking that idea, being able to get more use out of them than as just shelters. How successful are they on projected Endbringer assaults?”
“According to my niece they have around a ninety to ninety-five percent occupancy rate of their given areas,” I answered. “Of course, that is not counting the people who have to stay out as necessary emergency workers or hospital staff. Also, once the Endbringer sirens sound, the doors are sealed until the all clear is given.”
“How often are they off on the attack date?” Director Paulson asked, sounding a little breathless from his screen.
“Once since they started this in 2000,” I answered, “And that was the Simurgh’s appearance at Lausanne.”
“Holy shit!” Tagg commented, his surprise evident. “How the hell are they predicting them?”
“Akane doesn’t know,” I answered, waving my hands in front of me in a slightly warding gesture. “All she knows is that it involves some computer algorithm and that it’s only good for a three-day window around when they will attack, never which one nor where.”
“Still though,” the Chief Director said, cupping her chin in thought. “A warning like that could still save lives, and it reduces the annoyance at false alarms by giving them entertainment. Where do they get the acts?”
“Mostly local groups and cover bands from what Akane has told me,” I answered truthfully. “They do ask for donations because the concert portions are advertised as a benefit to help areas rebuild after the Endbringer attacks.”
“The Kuno Foundation?” the Chief Director asked, and I nodded. “That means they’ve been doing this for about ten years now.” Her face took a pensive cast for a moment as she thought about the situation and the odds before she spoke again. “Emily, how do you feel about using Brockton Bay as a test subject for doing this?”
“Honestly I would feel better if it was being done somewhere else,” I answered truthfully, “Between the nazi’s, the druggies and the ABB I think we would be a piss poor test scene for it.”
“Afraid you’re going to have to get peoples hands dirty keeping the peace in the shelters?” the director of Phoenix snarked.
“Director Ramirez, I try very hard to keep the bloodshed around here as low as possible,” I growled. “I don’t care whose blood it is. That said, the fact of the matter is that I would either have to segregate the local partisans into different shelters or keep the entirety of the Bay PD on shift throughout the three-day period. Even then, people are likely to die.”
“Are things still that bad Emily?” Tagg asked from his window. I was honestly a bit surprised to hear the concern from the man, but the look on his face was honest concern.
“In a word James,” I answered with a sigh, “Yes they are.” I rubbed my hands over my face for a moment and looked at the myriad of windows on my computer screen. “The fact of the matter is that we need more here. More troopers, more heroes, more money for outreach and more tractable villains. If I could get some more support in general I could start to whittle away at what the gangs have but as things sit I’m lucky to be able to hold things to a stalemate of the status quo, which doesn’t sit well with me.”
“What about your three new Wards?” Director Castle asked from Atlanta, “I know you just debuted them yesterday and they aren’t supposed to be doing anything dangerous, but still patrolling them in the safer parts of town is supposed to be able to free up your Protectorate forces to do other things.”
I lifted an eye at the woman in Georgia. “We don’t have safe areas like that Amanda,” I answered with a hint of cold in my voice. “The safest area we have for the Wards to patrol is the Boardwalk where just last week there was a fight between a group of Merchants and the Empire over trying to forcibly recruit a rogue who is going to be making the costumes for our new Wards once the base material is ready.”
“I’ll run the test,” Director Andrew Dufraine said from New Orleans. “It would be nice to be able to have everyone locked down and entertained where a teleporter can get to them easy as opposed to chasing survivors all over the lower ninth.”
The Chief Director nodded at that. “Thank you, Andrew. Anyone else?” she asked.
“I will,” Meredith Baxter said from San Francisco. “It will be something new and different anyway.”
A couple of other directors volunteered their city for the test before the big question was asked, “When are they predicting the next attack?”
“The weekend of February 12th,” I answered. “Akane’s band will be playing for that one, and they are pretty decent.”
The Chief Director nodded, “So anytime from the Friday before the twelfth until the Monday afterwards?” I nodded in response, “We will prepare accordingly, and then if they are right, ask the company if they are willing to share their prediction algorithm.” Everyone nodded to that. “If there is nothing else ladies and gentlemen?” a look at the various screens showed shaking heads, “then I call this meeting adjourned.” With that the windows and their directors started to wink out of existence allowing my wallpaper to slowly grow back to it’s full size.
**
Nerima, Japan
Nabiki smiled as she picked up the workbook from her daughter’s chest before pulling the covers over the teen and setting the workbook with the rest of Kagome’s school things on her desk. There was a quiet murmur from the sleeping teen as her mother walked toward the door to the girl’s room stopping only long enough to shut off the light and slide the door closed. “Sasuke?” she practically whispered.
“Yes, Mistress Nabiki,” the family retainer answered, stepping from a shadow just down the hallway.
“Am I too distant from her?” the woman asked quietly, “have I focused too much on keeping the business afloat?”
“No Mistress Nabiki,” the ninja replied just as softly. “She is so independent that if you had tried to be controlling then she would have rebelled and want nothing to do with you or the company.”
“Sasuke, it’s a Thursday night and she spent the entirety of it studying alone,” Nabiki returned. “The only friends of hers that I know of are her cousins and she treats them more like siblings than cousins. When I was her age I had a flood of at least acquaintances that I could go see to study with, not immerse myself in solitude.”
“She wasn’t alone, Mistress,” Sasuke replied blandly. “Momo has been with her all evening helping her study and watching over her. I had just carried him off to bed myself when you came in.”
The former Tendo paused at that, “And how do they get on Sasuke?” she asked.
“He cares for her,” the ninja replied, “and I think she has feelings for him as well, though both think they hide it well. It has been many generations since there was even a hint that the two families might intermingle.”
This caused Nabiki to lift an eyebrow, “I find that a bit hard to believe Sasuke,” she said, starting to walk towards her room. “I mean the Kuno women, if the family portraits are to be believed, have always been of outstanding appearance.”
The elder retainer shook his head in her peripheral vision, “Until your late husband changed it, the rule amongst our clan has always been that the children of the master’s family were off limits to us. As simple retainers it would have been inconceivable to marry into the master’s family. That is not to say that there have not been cases where a young master has impregnated a young kunoichi, or a young mistress decides to run off with a scion of the family.”
“And when was the last time such an incident was recorded?” Nabiki asked quietly, “and what was the result?”
“I would have to double check, mistress,” Sasuke answered. “However, I believe the last time was during the Mejii Revolution when one of the young masters had a disagreement with his father over the matter and the two of them disappeared into that mess. She returned two or three years later with a babe in arms and the young master’s blades. The clan took the child in, and the master at the time accepted the blades back knowing his son died with honor.”
Nabiki thought on this for the rest of their walk to her quarters. “If you are not against it Sasuke,” she said sliding her door open, “Then I will have no problem with Momo as a potential son-in-law. He is a good and loyal young man,”
“I have no problem with it, mistress,” Sasuke answered bowing. “I wish you a good night.” With that said the ninja vanished into the shadows once more causing Nabiki to smile. Good and loyal describe you as well Sasuke, too bad you’re married.
**
**Taylor**
There were two main topics of discussion the next day. The Wards Debut, and the reporter who had managed to make an ass out of himself during it, filled up the morning’s gossip, to the extent of being commented on in Mrs. Jackson’s history class as an example of the extremes that political correctness could go to. By lunch though our debut had been overshadowed by the fact that the Drama and Glee Clubs had decided to go in together to put on a production of Little Shop of Horrors. “The problem,” Vicky’s friend Tabitha, who was in the Drama club, said morosely, “is that the voices of all the boys in both groups are cracking and none of them can seem to keep a note for more than two heartbeats.”
“Of course, that’s the ones that can carry a tune. Of the others that can,” Samantha, another member of the drama club cut in, “either they don’t want the starring role, or they can’t remember their lines. Finally, we have a severe shortage of males in the first place. It is almost as if someone is trying to sabotage our efforts for the city showcase this year.”
“Now, now,” Amy said, waving a fork with a bit of salad around in one hand, while reading the script of the play with the other. “I doubt anyone is trying to sabotage us that way.” She paused a moment in thought before continuing, “Though here’s an idea, why not gender flip at least the starring role, if not the whole thing?”
The Drama club students seemed to ponder that for a few moments before Samantha piped up, “It could be done.” With that, the group was off on that tangent of who could possibly do what role, and what scenes it would allow them to do.
**
**Emily Piggot**
“Furthermore,” James Tagg continued from his position on the screen, “the residents seem to have finally realized that rushing the portal point is only going to get them shot, even if it is with less than lethal ammunition or confoam.”
“Thank you for your report James,” the Chief Director said in her window and received a nod from the man in charge of the Madison containment zone. “Now, Emily, you said you had a potentially good thing brought to your attention?”
“Yes ma’am,” I answered. “My niece recently joined me from Japan where a major investor has arranged a series of concerts to encourage people to be in their Endbringer shelters. She suggested we tap into that idea and assist by arranging for our shelters to do the same.”
“Who is this investor and how are they affording to do this when the odds of any given city being hit are slim?” Director Armstrong asked, rubbing his hands together.
“Kuno Industries,” I answered. “The current CEO ordered it and when they built their shelters after the sinking of Kyushu, they outfitted them to be usable as concert halls as well as shelters.”
The Chief Director nodded, “I could see city administrators liking that idea, being able to get more use out of them than as just shelters. How successful are they on projected Endbringer assaults?”
“According to my niece they have around a ninety to ninety-five percent occupancy rate of their given areas,” I answered. “Of course, that is not counting the people who have to stay out as necessary emergency workers or hospital staff. Also, once the Endbringer sirens sound, the doors are sealed until the all clear is given.”
“How often are they off on the attack date?” Director Paulson asked, sounding a little breathless from his screen.
“Once since they started this in 2000,” I answered, “And that was the Simurgh’s appearance at Lausanne.”
“Holy shit!” Tagg commented, his surprise evident. “How the hell are they predicting them?”
“Akane doesn’t know,” I answered, waving my hands in front of me in a slightly warding gesture. “All she knows is that it involves some computer algorithm and that it’s only good for a three-day window around when they will attack, never which one nor where.”
“Still though,” the Chief Director said, cupping her chin in thought. “A warning like that could still save lives, and it reduces the annoyance at false alarms by giving them entertainment. Where do they get the acts?”
“Mostly local groups and cover bands from what Akane has told me,” I answered truthfully. “They do ask for donations because the concert portions are advertised as a benefit to help areas rebuild after the Endbringer attacks.”
“The Kuno Foundation?” the Chief Director asked, and I nodded. “That means they’ve been doing this for about ten years now.” Her face took a pensive cast for a moment as she thought about the situation and the odds before she spoke again. “Emily, how do you feel about using Brockton Bay as a test subject for doing this?”
“Honestly I would feel better if it was being done somewhere else,” I answered truthfully, “Between the nazi’s, the druggies and the ABB I think we would be a piss poor test scene for it.”
“Afraid you’re going to have to get peoples hands dirty keeping the peace in the shelters?” the director of Phoenix snarked.
“Director Ramirez, I try very hard to keep the bloodshed around here as low as possible,” I growled. “I don’t care whose blood it is. That said, the fact of the matter is that I would either have to segregate the local partisans into different shelters or keep the entirety of the Bay PD on shift throughout the three-day period. Even then, people are likely to die.”
“Are things still that bad Emily?” Tagg asked from his window. I was honestly a bit surprised to hear the concern from the man, but the look on his face was honest concern.
“In a word James,” I answered with a sigh, “Yes they are.” I rubbed my hands over my face for a moment and looked at the myriad of windows on my computer screen. “The fact of the matter is that we need more here. More troopers, more heroes, more money for outreach and more tractable villains. If I could get some more support in general I could start to whittle away at what the gangs have but as things sit I’m lucky to be able to hold things to a stalemate of the status quo, which doesn’t sit well with me.”
“What about your three new Wards?” Director Castle asked from Atlanta, “I know you just debuted them yesterday and they aren’t supposed to be doing anything dangerous, but still patrolling them in the safer parts of town is supposed to be able to free up your Protectorate forces to do other things.”
I lifted an eye at the woman in Georgia. “We don’t have safe areas like that Amanda,” I answered with a hint of cold in my voice. “The safest area we have for the Wards to patrol is the Boardwalk where just last week there was a fight between a group of Merchants and the Empire over trying to forcibly recruit a rogue who is going to be making the costumes for our new Wards once the base material is ready.”
“I’ll run the test,” Director Andrew Dufraine said from New Orleans. “It would be nice to be able to have everyone locked down and entertained where a teleporter can get to them easy as opposed to chasing survivors all over the lower ninth.”
The Chief Director nodded at that. “Thank you, Andrew. Anyone else?” she asked.
“I will,” Meredith Baxter said from San Francisco. “It will be something new and different anyway.”
A couple of other directors volunteered their city for the test before the big question was asked, “When are they predicting the next attack?”
“The weekend of February 12th,” I answered. “Akane’s band will be playing for that one, and they are pretty decent.”
The Chief Director nodded, “So anytime from the Friday before the twelfth until the Monday afterwards?” I nodded in response, “We will prepare accordingly, and then if they are right, ask the company if they are willing to share their prediction algorithm.” Everyone nodded to that. “If there is nothing else ladies and gentlemen?” a look at the various screens showed shaking heads, “then I call this meeting adjourned.” With that the windows and their directors started to wink out of existence allowing my wallpaper to slowly grow back to it’s full size.
**
Nerima, Japan
Nabiki smiled as she picked up the workbook from her daughter’s chest before pulling the covers over the teen and setting the workbook with the rest of Kagome’s school things on her desk. There was a quiet murmur from the sleeping teen as her mother walked toward the door to the girl’s room stopping only long enough to shut off the light and slide the door closed. “Sasuke?” she practically whispered.
“Yes, Mistress Nabiki,” the family retainer answered, stepping from a shadow just down the hallway.
“Am I too distant from her?” the woman asked quietly, “have I focused too much on keeping the business afloat?”
“No Mistress Nabiki,” the ninja replied just as softly. “She is so independent that if you had tried to be controlling then she would have rebelled and want nothing to do with you or the company.”
“Sasuke, it’s a Thursday night and she spent the entirety of it studying alone,” Nabiki returned. “The only friends of hers that I know of are her cousins and she treats them more like siblings than cousins. When I was her age I had a flood of at least acquaintances that I could go see to study with, not immerse myself in solitude.”
“She wasn’t alone, Mistress,” Sasuke replied blandly. “Momo has been with her all evening helping her study and watching over her. I had just carried him off to bed myself when you came in.”
The former Tendo paused at that, “And how do they get on Sasuke?” she asked.
“He cares for her,” the ninja replied, “and I think she has feelings for him as well, though both think they hide it well. It has been many generations since there was even a hint that the two families might intermingle.”
This caused Nabiki to lift an eyebrow, “I find that a bit hard to believe Sasuke,” she said, starting to walk towards her room. “I mean the Kuno women, if the family portraits are to be believed, have always been of outstanding appearance.”
The elder retainer shook his head in her peripheral vision, “Until your late husband changed it, the rule amongst our clan has always been that the children of the master’s family were off limits to us. As simple retainers it would have been inconceivable to marry into the master’s family. That is not to say that there have not been cases where a young master has impregnated a young kunoichi, or a young mistress decides to run off with a scion of the family.”
“And when was the last time such an incident was recorded?” Nabiki asked quietly, “and what was the result?”
“I would have to double check, mistress,” Sasuke answered. “However, I believe the last time was during the Mejii Revolution when one of the young masters had a disagreement with his father over the matter and the two of them disappeared into that mess. She returned two or three years later with a babe in arms and the young master’s blades. The clan took the child in, and the master at the time accepted the blades back knowing his son died with honor.”
Nabiki thought on this for the rest of their walk to her quarters. “If you are not against it Sasuke,” she said sliding her door open, “Then I will have no problem with Momo as a potential son-in-law. He is a good and loyal young man,”
“I have no problem with it, mistress,” Sasuke answered bowing. “I wish you a good night.” With that said the ninja vanished into the shadows once more causing Nabiki to smile. Good and loyal describe you as well Sasuke, too bad you’re married.
**
Wolf wins every fight but the one where he dies, fangs locked around the throat of his opponent.
Currently writing BROBd
Currently writing BROBd