>Call your consorts. Tell them to prepare your spy uniform, with all the cool gadgets and shit. If you don't have one have one made immediately.
Kitty immediately begins to regret that she doesn’t have a spy uniform, nor consorts to summon. She doesn't have that kind of clout with the rest of the city’s LGBT community!
> Anilin: Encourage Kitty that you can provide her with anything she needs with this. Further encourage her with the possibility of rewards later. Like candy!
Kitty jumps a little as she feels Annie’s pink-nailed fingers on her shoulder again, rubbing gently.
“Mmmph,” mmphed Kitty.
“It’ll be fine, Kitty, you’ll see! I can get you anything you need for this, all right? And if you do do it, maybe there’ll be a reward for you later.”
“Like candy.”
“Mmmrr.”
Annie’s eyes flit back and forth like an ancient conspirator, and she leaned next to Kitty’s ear.
“Or things involving leather.”
> Anilin: Think about Kitty wearing leather. /Yay/!
“Into a bar?”
“Knives?” says Kitty. Annie pats her head calmingly, before Kitty sits up. The mysterious unconscious man had been carried out to the car and put in the passenger’s seat up front, where he was presently snoring against the window. This had largely been done on the basis that you never know when something is going to suddenly become useful.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” says Pamela, opening the car door and stepping out. Kitty sighs, rubbing her temple. Annie gives her a kiss on the cheek for good luck, then Kitty - blushing slightly - gets out as well.
Kitty follows Pamela as she walks to the Purring Kitten, glancing down at Pam’s legs. Pamela has been walking with a noticeable limp for years, but she’s never bothered to explain to Kitty what had happened to her leg. Kitty didn’t want to pry, but it was worrying.
The bar itself was an impressively run-down looking brown cube, set at one end of a busy street. A lonely security bot, identical to the one Kitty had seen earlier, stood outside the door, keeping a silent vigil. A neon sign above the bar featured the blue outline of a woman with cat ears, lounging on the words Purring Kitten. Kitty suspects she’s supposed to be nude, and begins to wonder if she ought to sue someone for defamation of character.
Pamela opens the door for her. Kitty blushes a little and walks in.
The atmosphere inside is...Smokey. And quiet; the morning is clearly not their peak hours. Only a few people sit inside, mostly apart from each other. They all seem to, after a short look, have something in common.
“There’s no men here, are there?” says Kitty.
“Yes,” says Pamela. “This dive’s more popular among women than it is among men, though there’s still quite a few male customers in it’s busier hours. Of course, the city population has slightly leaned towards women for the last couple of generations.”
“Why does Dante come here, then?”
“I assume,” said Pamela, adjusting her fedora. “Because most of the patrons are women.”
Kitty mulled this over for a few minutes.
“...Oh.”
“On the bright side, there’s a good chance that one of these dames has info on our perp. Possibly more info than we’d ever want to know.”
“...Ew.”
“People with intimate knowledge of the target are always a good source of information, Kitty. If you can get them to give it up, of course. We’re the good dames here, so let’s try not to rough up anyone if we can help it.”
A few of the patrons in the bar stand out to you.
In the back is the bartender, who seems to be watching you from behind the bar itself. She twirls a knife - of all things! - between her fingers, giving you quite the eye. What sort of eye it is, you’re uncertain. You may not want to know. What you do know is that she appears to be wearing a fancy black suit, with the jacket open. A cyan tie, undone, hangs around her neck.
Seated at the end of the bar is a tanned white woman around your age, in a floppy beret covering long, wild brown hair. You can see her deep red lipstick from here, as well as her complete lack of shoes. She looks as if she’s watching everyone in the bar like a hawk, a slight raised smirk on her face.
Taking up part of a lounge seat at the other end of the bar is a tall Irish-looking woman with clipped ginger hair, her face dotted in freckles and her otherwise pale skin badly sunburnt and lightly peeling. She’s wearing most of a police uniform - her jacket and hat appears to have gone missing, leaving only the dress shirt, pants, and boots - and appears to have a bottle of...some sort of alcohol Kitty is unfamiliar with.
Finally, a short black girl with dark blonde hair sits at a table, her feet pulled up onto the chair she’s sitting on. She taps her fingers on the table, looking quite bored indeed.
What will Kitty do?
“Or things involving leather.”
> Anilin: Think about Kitty wearing leather. /Yay/!
A very large smile crosses Annie’s lips. Kitty’s eye pops open and twitch a little.
>Kitty: don't think about Pam wearing leather don't think about Pam wearing leather don't think about Pam wearing leather don'tthinkaboutPamwearingleSONNOVABITCH
The combination of leather and the fact that Pamela is straight ahead...
Thoughts scratch at Kitty’s mind. Dirty ones. She tries to push the thought of Pamela in a tight leather outfit out of her head.
Kitty had never really been comfortable with her sexuality. Or anyone else’s, for that matter. Books were easy. Fictional characters might be complex and frequently untrustworthy, but you didn’t have to seduce them. They existed in your head and were mostly unaffected by whatever fantasy you came up with. You didn’t have to actually touch them. You didn’t have to spend nights lying awake wondering about their feelings, and whether or not you returned them.
Kitty remembered puberty, very distinctly. It had been uncomfortable. There were the...obvious physical changes, but there’d also been noticing that some of the customers were cute, and Lady going on and on about safe sex and something about snapping right off - Kitty had generally zoned out by that point. She distinctly recalled the painfully awkward sleepover where she had recounted the cute, nice boys who had checked out books lately to Anilin’s complete and utter boredom, leading up to the strange moment where her best friend suddenly grabbed her and kissed her, and that had been a whole different set of complications. She remembered noticing Pamela’s curves for the first time, and the slow, awkward realization that both sexes had become intensely interesting.
It was all too complicated. So Kitty shut down and ignored it. Ignored Pamela’s beauty, ignored Annie’s forwardness and devotion. That stuff wasn’t really important, and she was better off alone anyway.
It is at this point, then, that she realizes she’s been staring at Pamela for a full minute.
Pamela raises an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?” she says.
“..N-no,” stammers Kitty quickly, looking away and cursing her mind for wrapping Pamela in leather.
You will need all of your greatest assets for this adventure. Bring books. Lots and lots of books.
“Well...Okay, I’ll do it...” murmurs Kitty reluctantly. She stands up. “I’ll go get the books I’m going to need. It’ll just take a little while, then I’ll be ready...”
“...You’re not taking books,” says Pamela. Kitty stops halfway out the door.
“...What?”
“They’re not going to help.”
“But I need them.”
“How are you going to carry them?”
“...Carefully.”
“Into a bar?”
“...Very carefully.”
“Kitty.”
“I’m not going anywhere without my books! And that’s final!”
* * *
“Annie?” asks Pamela, pulling her car into a parking space. “Has she calmed down?”
“Yes,” says Annie, stroking Kitty’s hair as her head lay on her lap. “She stopped crying, at least. Are you all right, Kitty baby?”
Kitty nodded.
“Good!”
“We’re here,” adds Pamela. “The Purring Kitten. Annie will wait out in the car with the mysterious fella, but I’ll go in with you just in case. It can get rough, but it’s a classy enough joint. Just watch out for the knives.”
“Knives?” says Kitty. Annie pats her head calmingly, before Kitty sits up. The mysterious unconscious man had been carried out to the car and put in the passenger’s seat up front, where he was presently snoring against the window. This had largely been done on the basis that you never know when something is going to suddenly become useful.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” says Pamela, opening the car door and stepping out. Kitty sighs, rubbing her temple. Annie gives her a kiss on the cheek for good luck, then Kitty - blushing slightly - gets out as well.
Kitty follows Pamela as she walks to the Purring Kitten, glancing down at Pam’s legs. Pamela has been walking with a noticeable limp for years, but she’s never bothered to explain to Kitty what had happened to her leg. Kitty didn’t want to pry, but it was worrying.
The bar itself was an impressively run-down looking brown cube, set at one end of a busy street. A lonely security bot, identical to the one Kitty had seen earlier, stood outside the door, keeping a silent vigil. A neon sign above the bar featured the blue outline of a woman with cat ears, lounging on the words Purring Kitten. Kitty suspects she’s supposed to be nude, and begins to wonder if she ought to sue someone for defamation of character.
Pamela opens the door for her. Kitty blushes a little and walks in.
The atmosphere inside is...Smokey. And quiet; the morning is clearly not their peak hours. Only a few people sit inside, mostly apart from each other. They all seem to, after a short look, have something in common.
“There’s no men here, are there?” says Kitty.
“Yes,” says Pamela. “This dive’s more popular among women than it is among men, though there’s still quite a few male customers in it’s busier hours. Of course, the city population has slightly leaned towards women for the last couple of generations.”
“Why does Dante come here, then?”
“I assume,” said Pamela, adjusting her fedora. “Because most of the patrons are women.”
Kitty mulled this over for a few minutes.
“...Oh.”
“On the bright side, there’s a good chance that one of these dames has info on our perp. Possibly more info than we’d ever want to know.”
“...Ew.”
“People with intimate knowledge of the target are always a good source of information, Kitty. If you can get them to give it up, of course. We’re the good dames here, so let’s try not to rough up anyone if we can help it.”
“Right.”
“Unless they really deserve it.”
A few of the patrons in the bar stand out to you.
In the back is the bartender, who seems to be watching you from behind the bar itself. She twirls a knife - of all things! - between her fingers, giving you quite the eye. What sort of eye it is, you’re uncertain. You may not want to know. What you do know is that she appears to be wearing a fancy black suit, with the jacket open. A cyan tie, undone, hangs around her neck.
Seated at the end of the bar is a tanned white woman around your age, in a floppy beret covering long, wild brown hair. You can see her deep red lipstick from here, as well as her complete lack of shoes. She looks as if she’s watching everyone in the bar like a hawk, a slight raised smirk on her face.
Taking up part of a lounge seat at the other end of the bar is a tall Irish-looking woman with clipped ginger hair, her face dotted in freckles and her otherwise pale skin badly sunburnt and lightly peeling. She’s wearing most of a police uniform - her jacket and hat appears to have gone missing, leaving only the dress shirt, pants, and boots - and appears to have a bottle of...some sort of alcohol Kitty is unfamiliar with.
Finally, a short black girl with dark blonde hair sits at a table, her feet pulled up onto the chair she’s sitting on. She taps her fingers on the table, looking quite bored indeed.
What will Kitty do?
_________________________________________________________________
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6 comments:
>Kitty: Politely ask the bartender what she knows about the patrons.
>Kitty: Ask for advice, you're not familiar with how these things should go!
Kitty: Arbitrarily decide what manner to approach each of these people in before approaching any of them.
>Go talk to the Irish woman.
>Think positively. Dante will at least stand out.
> Who will Kitty do?
> Talk to the bartender first. They always have the latest info and quests.
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