Lost Island Quest 45

Welcome to The Lost Island Quest. Last thread our hero, Alan Rodain, disagreed with his lover, bullied his superior and extracted pertinent information from his captive succubus. Now, he attempts to stop a fight from breaking out in his favorite tavern for the second night in a row.

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You wade into the middle of the ongoing explosion, a wide berth already open to you from the intelligent, retreating patrons who look to you as the last hope to defuse the situation.

Dart waves to you, wiggling her fingers as she flashes you a cheeky smile. She leans her arms on top of the back of a chair she straddles. Irontide glances in your direction, his displeased grimace widening as if a new disgusting smell had just assaulted his nostrils. Gabby looks to you at the same time and you see a bit of relief set in her face, slipping past the stern mask she's putting on in this impromptu confrontation.

“Who the fuck is he?” Irontide gruffly demands of Dart more than asks. His voice rumbles deep and gravelly.

“Her boyfriend,” Dart remarks dryly.

“Good,” Irontide spits. He looks to you and nods towards Gabby. “Mind taking your whore and leaving? She's beginning to annoy me.”

>Punch Irontide in the face
>What are you even fighting about?
>Hello, my name's Alan
>Can you take it outside?
>Grab Gabby and leave
>She's not my girlfriend
>Something else? (write-in)

"Well, gee, nice to meet you, too, my name's Alan."
>>What are you even fighting about?

>other
"It's her bar, so why not take yourself out? Plenty of other bars in town."

Writing!

“Hello,” you start calmly. “My name is Alan. Nice to meet you Irontide.” He grunts at you in response. “Forgive me, I'm a bit out of the loop. What is the issue here?”

“I sat down for a drink and your she-beast began screeching,” he tells you.

“That table is our spot,” Gabby explains. “It's reserved, at all times, for us.”

“This table is where we hang out,” Dart pipes up.

“Yeah, then you assholes disappeared, the bar burned down and more importantly we took your fucking table. It's ours now.”

“You weren't even using it.”

“Fuck you, sit somewhere else.”

“Think I'll sit in MY fucking spot like I usually do,” Irontide growls.

You sigh. “Look, she owns the bar. It's her rules, like it or not. Just find somewhere else to drink. There are other bars in town.”

“I'm not going to the Drunken fucking Lion that's for sure,” Irontide rebukes.

Gabby crosses her arms. “You don't leave and I'll have to call the guards.”

Irontide responds with a hearty laugh. “You think the guards will lift a finger to stop me?”

Gabby leans in to him. “Someone has to drag your carcass out of here. And I only make corpses.”

Irontide clenches his fist and it shifts closer to the haft of his axe as his face reddens. Dart's hands tense and you see the leather of her gloves go taut.

>Defuse
>Escalate
>Something else? (write-in)

>Defuse
>“I'm not going to the Drunken fucking Lion that's for sure,” Irontide rebukes.
"Then don't go to the Drunken Lion, but you can't stay here."

TOO BAD YOU'RE ON THE WRONG BOARD.

Man, feels so good now I can finally tell quest threads to bugger off.

Writing!

...

>butthurt
If only the generals could shoo somewhere too.

>Defuse
Because at the very least this fight needs to go outside.
This bar still has the "new bar smell".

>Defuse

You step in between Irontide and Gabby. Gabby recoils moreso than Irontide who seems content being as still and immovable as a boulder.

You look to Irontide. “Then don't go to the Drunken Lion. But you can't stay here.”

“Keep hearing can't, but I'm having trouble figuring exactly why I can't do whatever the fuck I want. Seems like I can. So unless one of you would like to try to MAKE me leave –”

“With pleasure,” Gabby interrupts, cracking her knuckles.

The door to the Sword and Shield Tavern slams open. Dolah strides into the establishment flanked by five or six figures wearing white robes of the Church and carrying rudimentary weapons. Dolah's gaze immediately falls upon the four of you who all look to her slightly dumbfounded. She rolls her eyes.

“Gabby, what are you doing?” she asks plainly and quietly.

“No, Dolah,” Gabby responds. “I'm in the right here this time. These assholes are sitting in our spot.”

“In our spot?!” Gabby asks incredulously. “It's a table in a bar that isn't even full and won't be full anytime soon if you keep trying to destroy it.” Dolah raises her hand for her men to hold as she strides in, picking up a chair as she approaches. When she finally arrives near the table she places the chair next to another one. “See, now there's enough room for all of Irontide's group and you to sit down. It's a few chairs and a table. It doesn't matter.”

As Gabby gathers herself to respond to Dolah's chiding lecture, Irontide kicks over the chair that Dolah brought over. “Actually, I think it does fucking matter,” Irontide contributes ever so eloquently. “This is my group's fucking spot.”

“Don't break my shit asshole!” Gabby yells as she lunges forward, stopped only by Dolah and yourself getting in her way.

Dolah turns to Irontide and takes a second to gather what she's going to say to the irate dwarf while Dart laughs to herself silently.

“Hey!” you hear the shout of an unfamiliar voice. You look to the bar's entrance and see a simply dressed bald man with a big bushy beard push his way through Dolah's cadre. He spies you all before walking towards your group. “Irontide! What are you doing?”

“Oh, go bugger yourself, Ashe,” Irontide responds in a manner you swear you've seen before despite having never witnessed these two individuals interact. “I was here first and then this bitch had a problem.”

“You mean the owner doesn't want you here?” Ashe asks folding his arms.

“The fuck does that matter. I wasn't doing anything.”

“The bar is her property. She has the right to deny service at her discretion.”

“I wasn't even denying the asshole service. I'll take his money as long as he sits somewhere else,” Gabby adds. Ashe lifts his hand gesturing to Gabby's words while staring down at Irontide with wide eyes that scream 'see'.

“I want to stop babysitting you, Irontide. But if you kick and scream like a fussy child I'll have to continue.”

“Fuck this,” Irontide mutters before barreling through Ashe, who manages to keep his balance quite gracefully. Dart sighs and finishes her drink, following after Irontide, shrugging.

Ashe bends down and picks up the knocked over chair before turning to the three of you. “I apologize on Irontide's behalf. He can be obstinate and unruly when he feels threatened.”

Dolah chuckles. “I understand completely.”

>Ask Dolah about the guys in robes
>Thank Ashe for helping defuse the situation
>Chastise Gabby for her conduct
>Get back to the conversation you came here to have

Forgot

>Something else (write-in)

Although in most situations you can assume that is an option

>>Thank Ashe for helping defuse the situation
>Ask Dolah about the guys in robes

>>Ask Dolah about the guys in robes
>>Thank Ashe for helping defuse the situation
Ashe is probably the only person from Irontide's group who won't want to kill us just to get rid of competition.

>>Get back to the conversation you came here to have
Or, rather, do a bit of small talk before broaching the subject. Like, 'We found a succubus and rescued an archmage' or 'We were pretty close to punching that arsehole's lights out, too.'

Then start with:
"Hey, have you ever had dreams about meditating? Like, under a waterfall?"

Second

Unless its a facade...

Writing!

Ashe is supposedly the only good one in their party. Everyone else is Neutral or Evil.

“Thank you for that,” you tell the man. You recall Bartom said this guy was the good egg of their group. “Alan,” you introduce yourself as you shake his hand.

“Ashe,” he tells you. “And don't worry about it. Unfortunately I've found myself responsible for directing Irontide's wrath in the right directions. It would be wrong of me to let him wreak havoc in here.”

“I know the feeling,” Dolah responds with a smile as she grabs his hand after you. “Dolah Ornatheon, Paladin of the Great Will.”

“I've heard a lot about you. You managed to oust that thieves' guild plaguing Seaside, didn't you?”

Dolah shrugs. “They were mostly drug trafficking and Blackburn was the one who dealt with the aftermath, but yes.”

“Still, that's quite an accomplishment. Although I guess everything you've all done pales in comparison to saving the city. Thank you, by the way, for keeping the place standing while we were preoccupied.”

“You're welcome, we wanted it shiny and fresh for when you took it back,” Gabby answers sarcastically.

Dolah nudges Gabby, giving her a sidelong glance and a slight frown. Gabby rolls her eyes.

“Dolah,” you interject, gaining the half-orc's attention. “Who are those men?”

Dolah looks to the robed men of the Church standing in the entrance, who she waves off. As they disperse back into the city streets she turns to you and answers. “Those are some of Father Calloway's faithful who were inspired by his sacrifice. I believe I may have mentioned this earlier, but I've turned the Chapel of Calloway into a headquarters for a Citizen's Watch. Many believers and newly devout acolytes have been looking for a way to give to the community and demonstrate their faith. So I have them patrol sections of the city in groups looking to alleviate small problems and report bigger disturbances or anomalies to me. They're the ones who told me my presence was required to handle a bar brawl.”

“Oh,” Ashe remarks dejectedly. “Father Calloway passed?” Dolah nods respectfuly. “Where's he buried? I'd like to pay my respects. He taught me most of what I know about healing the body.”

“I'll show you,” Dolah offers stoically. Dolah exits The Sword and Shield Tavern followed by Ashe.

“Thank fuck that's over,” Gabby tells you. She looks to one of the serving girls and snaps her fingers. The bar resumes it's normal activity as the fear of an altercation passes from the mind of its patrons. The two of you sit down and drinks are served to the both of you.

“So, Al, how have you been since we, uh, 'talked'?”

“Uh . . .”

>Gabby, did you have a weird dream last night?
>Gabby, I had a weird dream last night (all the details, leave it vague)

"Well, I helped capture a succubus and save an archmage recently."

>Gabby, did you have a weird dream last night?

>Gabby, did you have a weird dream last night?
"With that spontaneous mental connection I made with Rowe, I want to be careful with dreams."

Writing!

...

“Well, I helped capture a succubus and saved the Archmage of the Circle,” you tell her.

“Succubuses are real?” she asks incredulously. You nod your head. “Neat.”

“So, Gabby,” you pause for a second to think of the best way to word your query. “Did you have a weird dream last night.”

She looks into her glass and thinks for a moment before shaking her head yes. “Yeah, why?”

“Well, seeing as I made some spontaneous mental bond with Rowe, I figure I would pay special attention to dreams. Was I . . . involved in any way?”

Gabby taps on the side of her glass a little too rapidly. “Yeah, you were.” Gabby sighs. “So, I assume your dream starts off with us meditating under a waterfall?”

“Naked?” you ask.

“Yep,” Gabby downs her drink and slams it back on the table, before looking back up at the ceiling. “Fuck. So it wasn't just . . . “ she trails off. She looks up at the ceiling for a few more moments before sitting back up and looking you in the eyes intently. “So was that supposed to be the future or something? Or a prophecy? Or a warning? Where did the dream end for you? I mean did you actually . . .” she trails off once more, seemingly embarrassed or concerned about saying the last part out loud.


>I was interrupted right at the climax
>I hope it's the future
>I think it's a warning
>It's probably nothing
>Something else? (write-in)

>>I was interrupted right at the climax

>I was interrupted right at the climax

>Other
"It was probably just our unconscious minds connecting because of the amount that I've learned from you. Shit, Rowe may be right."

>Shit, Rowe may be right

Right about what?

Writing!

maybe he's referring to Rowe warning us about taking up traits and stuff from the people we've assimilated from? Only, in this case, it's developed as a subconcious link.

“I was interrupted right at the climax,” you tell her.

“Oh,” she responds. “What was the climax for you?”

You look at her a bit quizzically. She seems genuinely interested. You feel a bit of red twinge your cheeks as you awkwardly try to explain.

“Well, it was when . . . y'know, the usual.”

“. . . What?” Gabby asks, perplexed.

“I assume it's generally the same for all guys.”

Gabby looks at you, confused. “So were you stabbing me or was I drowning you.”

It's your turn to blink and look at her, bewildered. “What?”

“Did the dream end while you were stabbing me or did you get to the part where I was drowning you or did it end in the middle of the scuffle or did it end when you died because you stopped breathing or at least bubbles stopped coming to the surface and you stopped thrashing around so I assume you died.”

“ . . . What?!”

Gabby blinks once and then she shoves her face in her hands. “Okay, maybe we didn't have the same dream after all. Did you or did you not stab me with a concealed dagger in your dream?”

>Y-y-yeah, that's exactly what happened! (Lying)
> I wasn't stabbing you with a dagger, that's for sure

>> I wasn't stabbing you with a dagger, that's for sure

> I wasn't stabbing you with a dagger, that's for sure.

cough uncomfortably.

> I wasn't stabbing you with a dagger, that's for sure
It's rare we can get Gabby to blush.

while looking down into your lap.


the captcha has also foretold me of spaghetti dropping.

Writing!

Which is more awkward: dreaming of having sex with a friend, or dreaming of having sex with them while they dream of killing you?

probably the latter.

“I wasn't stabbing you with a dagger, that's for sure.”

“So, what, a shortsword?”

“More like a longsword.”

Gabby laughs. “There's no way you could have been hiding a longsword on you.”

You shrug and artfully glance at your crotch. “Rowe thought the same thing once.”

It takes Gabby a few seconds of registering what you just said, your actions and your current facial expression before the realization about what you're saying dawns upon her. Her jaw goes slack as you answer 'yes' with your eyes to the question she's silently asking.

“What the fuck?” she finally utters. “That's not fair. I get the shitty betrayal murder dream and you get the sex dream? And it started with us meditating naked under that waterfall on the Island, right?”

“I believe so.”

“And there was no drowning at all, right?”

“Welllllll –”

“I mean real drowning, alright. No innuendo 'drowning'. It was violence free?”

“Gabby, I mean, is it ever –”

“Fuck off, Alan. Just sex?”

“Just sex.”

“Alright then,” she finally says, sipping from her tankard. “I wish I had had that dream.” There is a long pause. “Instead,” she finally amends. The faintest of blushes creeps across her face.

Obviously it's coming from the alcohol, right? Obviously.

>Glad we got that cleared up, time to move on
>That murder dream might actually be serious
>So, wanna do it?
>Something else? (write-in)

>>That murder dream might actually be serious

"Do you want to talk about the murder dream?"

>>That murder dream might actually be serious
>Something else? (write-in)
"I'm no expert on dreams, prophetic or otherwise, but maybe this has to do with us sharing a subconscious link from all the assimilating I've done."

"Did you... want to do it with me?"

>>Something else? (write-in)
"You know I love Rowe. But, I can't deny that I enjoyed that dream. What about you?"

I veto against this.

Here comes that trainwreck I warned you all about a few threads ago.

Train has left the station! Chugga chugga chugga!

Wonder when it's going to crash?

Writing!

JapMoot, please banish these demons from my home.

Purge these shitposters to their dark realm of !

“Do you want to talk about that murder dream?” you ask Gabby, a sober tone creeping back into your voice. “It sounds like it might actually be serious.”

“Yeah I guess. I figured there were three possibilities. One, it's just a stupid fucking dream, right. It had been an emotional night and my mind hadn't settled. It might mean nothing."

"Two, it was a bit of a prophecy. You and I were eventually going to disagree to the extent that you'd betray me and try to kill me and I'd have to, y'know, kill you first. But seeing as you had the same exact opening part of the dream I think option one is ruled out. But since you were dreaming about porking me instead I think it also rules out the second option a bit, because I don't see how our two versions of the same dream could both become true."

"So the third option is that it's some sort of warning. I, uh, see myself as this naked, vulnerable person and anybody I trust or let in is going to stab me in the back for who I am. And so as I was killing you . . . I,” she trails off as she thinks for a bit. “I . . . realized I fucking hated who I was. Drowning this person I sorta gave a shit about because they betrayed me."

"But I don't know. Is the lesson that I don't let anybody come close, because I'll end up hating what I have to do? Or am I just paranoid and overreacting, doing the wrong thing? It's . . . I really don't fucking know. Shit, I don't even get why I still have powers. My mind hasn't been at one with itself in a long fucking while.”

>I think the lesson is that you can't let anyone get close to you
>I think the lesson is that you need to trust others more
>I don't know Gabby
>I think the lesson is (write-in)
>Something else? (write-in)

>>I don't know Gabby
but if I were to venture a guess...
>I think the lesson is that you need to trust others more

>I don't know Gabby.
"I think you have to decide by yourself if you should trust people or not."

Writing!

>I think the lesson is
You may have people that do actually like you, and what they think deep down might be different from what you think. So they may have no intention of backstabbing you, even if you fear they will.
"Or it's just a weird dream from our two subconscious talking with each other."

“I don't know Gabby. I'm not a dream interpreter. I'd like to say it was a subconscious effort to get you to realize that not everybody is out to –”

“Fuck me?” Gabby asks in mock innocence, batting her eyelashes.

“Fuck you over,” you correct. “Maybe the dreams are meant to work in tandem. You're afraid someone wants to get you alone and unguarded to do you wrong when the reality could be that they just want to . . . do . . . you. Look, this isn't coming out the best, but at the end of the day it's up to you. You have to decide if you should trust people or not. I can't make that decision for you.”

She stares down at the knotted, wooden table as she speaks this next part. “I want to trust people, Al. I really do. It's just so hard when . . . you think there's somebody who is trying to do right by you and seems like they're encouraging you to be the best person you can be out of the goodness in their heart, but in reality . . ."

She ends her emotional appeal by looking up into your eyes and smiling, "All they really want from you is your body."

You laugh instinctively and look down into the bottom of your drink.

“Gabby you know that's not the reason I care, right?”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself Al. You're simply a devout man who needs to save the soul of this sultry, seductive, sinner,” her voice gets breathy near the end.

“Gabby.”

“Remember, The Great Will gives you these urges so you can conquer them.” Gabby really knows how to say the words 'urge' and 'conquer' to really give them . . . character.

“Alright, I think it's time for me to go,” you finish your drink and get up to leave.

“Tell Rowe I said hi!” she shouts after you energetically.

>Private conversation with Rowe
>Management training with Essentia
>Buy something (what?)
>Assimilate something (what?)
>Put effort into de-Ghoulifying Paul
>Go see Blackburn for an assignment
>Something else? (write-in)

>Put effort into de-Ghoulifying Paul

how long does this effort take?

I'm hoping that by the next day or so, we get back to talking to Rowe in private.

>Private conversation with Rowe

>Private conversation with Rowe

Writing!

It's been a few hours. Both you and Rowe have had some time to cool off. You go back to the Circle and up to the sixth floor to Rowe's new room. You knock on Rowe's door. She doesn't answer. Rowe may be mad at you, but you doubt she wouldn't answer her door. So, you search the tower for your lover.

It isn't a long search. In fact you never end up leaving the sixth floor. As you walk by the room holding your succubus captive, you overhear the sound of speech emanating from inside it.

Your curiosity gets the better of you and you approach the door, only to pause opening it when you hear Rowe speaking on the other side.

“Why, though?” your lover demands.

“Why?!” the succubus repeats incredulously. Sounds like she's snapped out of her fugue desire for your mouth. “Because it's prophecised to bring The End to everything.”

“He doesn't destroy or steal that which he takes.”

“That comforts you?” the Succubus asks through a laugh. “It wants one thing: to be more. And its thirst is unending. The only thing driving it is the desire to be and have more until it has absolutely everything. And once it IS everything it will have no more use for your kind, the same as mine.”

“He's still a person. He has other desires.”

“Please, I'm certain the first thing it learned was how to mask its intentions. It has one desire and it will do whatever it needs to fulfill it.”

“. . .” You can practically feel Rowe breathe as she fails to respond.

“You're sleeping with it, aren't you? Haha. Trust me honey. Sex is always about power. The only thing it loves about you is that it has more to take and you have more to give\. What? You think it isn't siphoning off little bits of you every night it sleeps by your side? You're a source of power just letting it leech the best bits about you.”

>Enough, barge in
>Wait a bit longer
>Something else? (write-in)

>Wait a bit longer

ok, wait a bit before jumping in
>Something else? (write-in) to the Succubus
"So you're still pissed I didn't kiss you?"

Writing!

“So what do you think I should do?” Rowe finally asks.

“Easy. Save the world. Cut the thing's throat while it sleeps. Before it figures out how to survive that too.”

“Great, kill my boyfriend in cold blood because the semen demon told me to. Wonderful plan. Everyone would love that.”

“You want a reward? There would be plenty in the Abyss willing to reward you for stopping Armageddon. Power, wealth . . . pleasure,” she lets that last part drift out.

“Ooh. Demon dick. It's what I've always wanted.”

“You asked me yourself because you KNOW to fear that thing. If you want rewards from some other plane of existence you can pester them as well, I'm sure they'll grant you a boon for your service. You know I'm not lying. ”

“I believe you. In fact you make a compelling argument.”

“Good, so tonight you do the deed then? Rid the world of that most horrid of parasites.”

“Eh, not quite.”

“Wait, what?”

You hear Rowe pull back the bowstring.

>Barge in, stop her
>Let Rowe kill the succubus

>>Barge in, stop her
"She's just pissed I didn't kiss her during interrogation."

Writing!

Killing it just sends it back to the Abyss to give a report to her superiors.

You rapidly throw open the door and rush inside to stop your lover from assassinating your demon captive. Rowe startles and accidentally looses, but the shot thankfully goes wide. The succubus shrieks and backs itself into a corner of the cage, getting as far away from you as possible.

“Don't worry about her. She's just pissed I didn't kiss her during interrogation,” you joke.

“Stay away from me abomination,” the succubus snaps.

“This thing is trying to convince me to kill you in your sleep. If we're done with it we should get rid of the thing,” Rowe tells you.

“You're a fool and you're damning all of existence,” the succubus cries at Rowe.

“Maybe later,” you admit. “But right now I'd like it if we could talk about things. In private.” You add as you nod your head to the caged demon.

“Alright, I'll grab Eve and have her watch over the thing,” Rowe leaves you alone with the succubus as she searches for your gnome companion.

Rowe returns with Eve who smiles and waves to you as you leave her to watch over the prisoner.

Rowe unlocks her new room with a key and the two of you enter. Rowe seems to have just brought all of her personal belongings upstairs recently but has yet to put them in their proper places.

She sits on the edge of the bed and looks to you. “What would you like to talk about?” Rowe asks solemnly.

>You can't try to control my powers
>Maybe you should air your grievances, you seem like you're mad at me
>I'm attracted to Gabby
>I want to break up
>Something else? (write-in)

Feel free to word things however you'd like. And take your time. I won't be able to make another post until after midnight, which will be the last post of the thread. Thank you all for participating in another installment of this quest, and I especially commend you on your ability to not bite the shitposting bait.

>>Maybe you should air your grievances, you seem like you're mad at me

and then after that

I think I might be attracted to Gabby, too.


You're referring to midnight Pacific time, right?

ye

>Maybe you should air your grievances, you seem like you're mad at me

>>Maybe you should air your grievances, you seem like you're mad at me

Actually, let's save the bit about Gabby for later when she's not so unhappy with us. Like, maybe next thread when she's cooled down, we let her know. And that Gabby says hi.

>Something else? (write-in)
What's on your mind, Rowe? I know I haven't been the best at allaying your fears.

Bump

...

>>Maybe you should air your grievances, you seem like you're mad at me
don't talk about Gabby

Writing. Yeah, it's 1:30. I'm later than I thought I'd be. I'm sure most of you are asleep by now.

Sleep tight snug, smug

“Well, what's on your mind, Rowe? I was thinking you would do most of the talking. I know I haven't been the best at allaying your fears and it seems like you're mad at me. So maybe you should air your grievances?”

“You want a list?” Rowe asks you, her bright, twinkling eyes searching your face for a hint of . . . something.

You shrug with all the nonchalance you can muster. “If you have it in list form, go for it.”

Rowe chuckles briefly before crossing one leg over and thinking. You lean against the wall and wait for her to gather her thoughts. The silence is heavy although it isn't awkward. Somewhere in the pit of your stomach you do find a building knot of dread at the asked-for scrutiny you are about to receive from the person who knows you the best on this Island. Hell, she knows you better than your own parents and siblings at this point. Your family understands pre-war Alan, but Rowe's the first person who really jives with post-war Alan. With fucked up shit, trying to be a better person Alan. With you.

“Alright,” Rowe finally speaks, pulling your focus out of your brain and onto her. “I think I've thought of everything. I'll start with the things that bother me the least and move forward, if that's all right with you.”

You nod your head. She nods hers as well.

“First. I was a tiny bit upset that you kissed the succubus. I understand she was most likely utilizing some magical form of mind control, but still. I don't want you just kissing every beautiful female opponent we capture for power or else I'm going to start making sure we /don't/ end up capturing any beautiful female opponents, if you catch my drift.”

“Noted.”

“But what's more important than that is when I brought up my concerns to you about what you were doing you promised you wouldn't do any more 'weird kissing stuff' like I was just some jealous lover even though my concerns had nothing to do with any of that. It was insulting.”

>vote for next action
>go to our own fucking board

“Then there's the fact that you weaponized your lips and who knows what else. You can suck people's energy out by kissing them now? And you acquired this power on purpose? It seems like such a useless ability unless we're fighting attractive women who I don't want you kissing anyway. Unless you plan to start kissing all the orcs we come across, which would be funny to watch, I guess."

"But now if I want to be intimate with you I'm making the conscious choice to put my lips on the equivalent of a loaded gun. I can be sure the safety is on and that it's in the hands of someone I trust but you're now expecting me to put myself in an even more vulnerable position. I need to trust you with my life every time we do anything intimate now. You made the decision to change the nature of what it means to be with you without consulting me at all.”

“Now this next one I'll admit is a bit more irrational and it has everything to do with your powers. Sometimes it is hard being a half-elf. I don't quite feel like I fit into one category or the other. I don't get Elven culture despite trying and I always feel like a bit of an outsider around pure humans, especially when they know what I am. And I HATE how you can be better than me at both. You can just pick up whatever elements of Elven language, physiology, or skill sets you need at the drop of a hat and that just trivializes everything I've spent my entire life trying to master. The fact that you can almost do that meditation stuff Quissonce does and I never will infuriates me to no end. And I know with a bit more effort you could have it down perfectly. So my human boyfriend gets to be a better elf than me. And I feel like a failure when I think about that.”

“And what happens when you learn how to become immortal, like Quissonce or Essentia. I'm sure you can do it. Why not? In fact you probably should do it. You will do it. And not only does that make you more like an elf than me AGAIN, but it scares the shit out of me to think you will probably look like that,” she gestures to your body, “For the rest of your life and I'm going to get old. It sounds nice to talk about being together, but in twenty years this lifestyle is going to weigh on me hard and you'll still be youthful and fresh-looking. And it's petty of me to want you to abandon thoughts of immortality to suit my ego but what am I going to do when you decide to leave me for, I don't know, Quissonce or somebody who just looks younger than me.”

“But all of those problems are nothing compared to the big one. I don't know how all these abilities you're absorbing are changing your personality. I don't know if you're the same man I met on that boat or the same man I started dating a month ago. I don't know how much of you is you and how much of you is everybody else you've taken from and I don't think YOU know that either."

"Am I just sleeping with a conglomerate of the personalities of everybody I know? What if one day I look at you and you are vastly different than who I thought you were when I met you? Who knows what effect assimilating elements of otherwordly creatures is going to have on you? How do I know any of the decisions you've made stem from the 'true' Alan and not someone else? Did you actually find your faith here or did some element of Father Calloway's personality enter you and made you think you had rediscovered your religion? Do you really love me or is that just parts of someone else? How do I love someone who I can never truly be sure I know?”

By the end of Rowe's tirade she's in tears.

>you promised you wouldn't do any more 'weird kissing stuff' like I was just some jealous lover even though my concerns had nothing to do with any of that. It was insulting.
Hah! So, what stupid thing will the anons who thought this was a good idea come up with next?

Since this is still here in the morning. I'd like to finish this conversation up this thread. So if anyone has any responses go for it. I'll also provide some basic options.

>Break up
>Stay Together
>Say something in particular (write-in)

I don't want to force write-ins on y'all.

You guys have your own board now. Take it to /qst/

>Stay Together
I have no context

You've got your own board now

>>Stay Together
>>Say something in particular (write-in)
"I'm sorry, Rowe. I didn't know what I was putting you through."

"I don't know where or how I got this.. ability. I know nothing about its nature except that it's a useful learning tool, but I don't want it coming between us."

>>Stay Together
>>Say something in particular (write-in)
Say sorry for causing those sorrows. Tell her we hope our personality doesn't change and that we are afraid it might.
We might unshield our thoughts so that she can feel the true us, but I don't know how the dream about Gabby might complicated things.

>Stay Together
>write-in
We want to work together through this.

>End of Thread
I will most likely run this next time on Saturday. twitter.com/TrickQM


I'll start the next thread with the end to this conversation.

Dropped my trip.

Thanks for running, man. See you next weekend.

Get this shit off of Veeky Forums. It doesn't belong here anymore.