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/tg/ - Traditional Games


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>> No.50273294 [View]

Oh quit being a jerk. It's unbecoming of you.

>> No.50257938 [View]

Stop being such a jerk.

>> No.50192421 [View]

Don't debase nep-nep with your degeneracy.

>> No.47779746 [View]


You snort. Yeah, no, you're not fleeing; you've taken your fair share of lumps from angry Gamindustri natives before. However bad IF's anger might get, it can't possibly be worse than Mojang's sorrowful disappointment (which you've only experienced once, but once was one time too many).

Deciding not to skulk any longer, you just sort of knock on the door frame. IF looks up with a frown. "Oh, it's you. Compa, why'd you bring-"

When it's clear that you're alone, though, /that's/ when you have Iffy's undivided attention. You watch her frown morph into a full-on suspicious glare; clearly an expression she's worn far too many times to count. "Where's Compa?" she asks, her voice promising imminent violence.

You open your mouth to reply, only for Neptune to poke her big fat head up and beat you to the punch. "Urist, did you introduce Compa to alcohol and convince her to drink too much?" she calls out.

"Neptune, don't be ridiculous," Iffy growls. "That sort of thing only happens in-"

"Comics, anime, and Gamindustri!" the goddess retorts.

IF sighs and turns back to pin you with a look and a raised eyebrow.

... nah, the Nep has it right. Except Compa convinced /herself/ to drink too much, and she's currently conked out outside Nepgear's hospital zone.

"Hospital /what/- ugh, forget it," Iffy groans, running a hand down her face. "Why would you even offer a drink to Compa? Who even carries that much alcohol on them?"

You're a /dwarf/, you snap back, and she only drank one measly flask! Look, it's not your fault there's no middle ground between "can hold all the liquor" and "gets drunk on fumes"!

"Aaah, whatever! I'll handle Compa. Don't cause any trouble, otherwise you're doing half of Neptune's paperwork." Iffy pushes past you distractedly, her trenchcoat's tails flaring behind her. "Neptune, keep an eye on her!"

"Roger that!" The purple-haired goddess chirrups, throwing a salute to IF's departing back.


>> No.47601310 [View]

Some minutes later, you're down in the lower echelons of the Planeptune Basilicom, outside the tiny little hospital wing, and you are abso-fucking-lutely relieved.

"It's just exhaustion," Iffy deadpans, her arms crossed as she glowers at- well, not quite at you, but just in general. "She's been transformed from birth, so she's burned up an incredible amount of energy; she'll be fine with some rest." She swipes a hand down her face. "Aaaah, god, I nearly died of fright."

You and her both, though you'd never admit it.

"Mmhmm," Compa replies. She's seated in a chair, that horrific syringe of hers resting against the wall; she'd basically been the first responder, getting all that medical bullshit arranged. "I was really surprised! Her transformed form looks the exact same as her non-transformed form. I thought something was seriously wrong..."

"H... hahah..." Neptune leans against the wall, laughing weakly. She rallies magnificently, bounding to her feet and spinning in place. "Welp! All's well that ends well! But wow, none of us caught that she'd been transformed for a while, huh? So-"

She yelps as IF masterfully grabs her ear. "OH no. You and I are having words, Neptune," the brunette growls, dragging her caterwauling cargo down the hallway.

"W-Wait! That's not fair!" Neptune wails. "I'm a victim, too! I was cursed earlier, right? Ambushed? Otherwise preoccupied?"

"If you hadn't skipped town," IF grates out, "then that wouldn't have /happened/!"

You watch them disappear around the corner. Godspeed, Neptune. May you survive the fruits of your own idiocy and maybe LEARN something for a change. With a grunt, you stand back up and glance over at the door, thinking about taking a peek at Nepgear-


>> No.46867642 [View]

"Oh! Right! I can totally prove I'm not a clone! Ta-daaa! Video games!"

"Wait, what even-"

"C'mon, Iffy, I'll beat you in that one racing game! That'll prove it beyond a doubt! Beyond the beyond, even!"

"What does that have to-"

"Oh? Oooh? Is that hesitation? Are you deflecting? Worried I'll Nep all over you? C'mon! Tag team rumble! Me an' Nepgear'll take you and Compa on!"


"C'moooon, Iffy!"

"... oh, god, fine."

Looking at the world-weary expression on IF's face, you suddenly, and very deeply, feel so damn sorry for the poor girl and her entire existence, if all this Neppy shit is the sort of thing she has to deal with on a daily basis.

So that's what's happened. Neptune, Nepgear, IF, and Compa are sitting at the foot of the bed, playing video games and actually getting pretty into... whatever their little racing game is all about, you don't even know.

You scratch your cheek, kicking your legs in blessed, blessed boredom- you can't even REMEMBER the last time you had No Job. Seems like there's a little time left before they wrap up this round- or, y'know, before IF recovers her Nepped-up wits and remembers that there are much, much more important things to worry about than gaming.


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