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| {:Canadian Bacon and pineapple is one of my favs.\} |
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| {:Also no outside food or drinks on the tour.\Keyhole Kate\} |
| {:side quest\Disappearing Hogwarts\} |
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| {:Catherine...\No no no no... No, don't... don't let this happen... No...\J... Jabal?\Y-Yes, my love... Are you hurt?\A little bit... But, I'm fine...\" Jabal would carefully lift Catherine up before tightly hugging her. \"Thank god... thank god...\" Jabal mumbled softly, Catherine hugging him back softly. \"Are... are you okay? You look pretty roughed up as well. What... what even happened?\" Catherine mumbled, the two continuing to hug. \"I'm fine. I just... stumbled a little bit.\Heh... So, what actually happened? I remember... running to our office, and then there was a loud bang and...\Hngh, I'm not sure what happened either.\" Looking around, Jabal would feel a gentle breeze coming from the direction leading to Titania's chamber, making him take a step back. \ |
| textDuh, I'm being the rarted one now. Yes, that's the takeaway I took and while it doesn't say she was part of his harem, it's largely an excuse to bring up the topic with her really. |
| textI was told you guys were bad Who told her that? they weren't able to lift me Smaller than a toddler, but too heavy for a group of athletic men to lift? How much does she weigh? How dense is she? Was it ever measured? Gonna assume those wings on her back are just for show. Whilst Sibilia may be made of metal, there was no way she actually is THIS dense. Clearly, this had to be an act or of some kind to trick you. So, tell her to stop playing the fool and answer honestly. I could see her being mixed up like this for a bit, but after this long? After a death squad encounter where they tried to kill her and she could observe their reactions and hear what they said? She clearly understands language, she's trying to play us. Ask the above questions before we confront her though. As noted in her file didn't mention rock bottom intellect. She might be so prideful that she believes this act is good enough to fool us. Maybe if she insists on playing dumb take out the plasma railgun, tell her it's a really powerful massager and to hold still. |
| textWhy do we keep finding the special ed cases? I thought lobotomies were out of fashion but I guess Elbrus pulled a Roraima before everything went to shit or she's just completely delusional and constantly telling herself everything is fine when it's really not. Supporting. May as well make it easy for us. She was listed as easily manipulated as another anon beat me to the punch on, but this is an okay point. It could also just be she got hit by heavy weaponry once and realized it wasn't good for her. As for finding the blood, she could have just been told by someone and blundered her way here. In fact, I think it adds credence to her being less than an A+ student because she's here now weeks after when the blood should start going bad, refrigerated or not. If she was smart she'd have been here earlier. This is also assuming she intended to end up here given she was listed as nearby this place already anyway. For all we know she got here by luck. Lastly, her file had an addendum and was stated as having been old, worn down, and buried under tons of files. So we have no clue how long she's been stuck in solitary. Though, given she was locked away, when did Lono last talk to her? How long has it been? Was she let out at some point after god knows how long? Supporting the questions here but not the confrontation. Even if I'm wrong and she doesn't make Reika look like Einstein by comparison I think it's a futile effort if she really is that dumb and a futile effort if it's all an act because she'd stop on her own by this point if it was one I think. I'd be worried about some sort of new Elbrus ability to screw us if it wasn't for the fact her height was described to be just about where she is now which implies she really was locked up with the key thrown away. As funny as it would be to threaten her with a rail gun I don't think that's a wise idea. I don't think the other subjects with us would approve. It also depends on what the soldiers around her did. If they never outright said they were trying to kill her and she just came to her own conclusions as to what they were there for, they could have just rolled with it. Providing anyone other than the group she ran from actually talked to her in any meaningful way other than gurgles from dying to what I assume is Grise... Or just getting both the mind and literal meaning of fucked. Plus, it could just be delusion or mental degradation induced by extensive time in solitary confinement, which is a warcrime past 15 days, and knowing Elbrus and the knowledge the file on her is old, I think it's safe to say that it's been a bit longer than that. |
| textBro just read her dialogue. She's way too eloquent to be as low IQ as she's pretending to be. For god's sake, she literally calls us a death squad instead of a massage squad or whatever she's pretending to think of us as. If they never outright said they were trying to kill her and she just came to her own conclusions as to what they were there for, they could have just rolled with it. Providing anyone other than the group she ran from actually talked to her in any meaningful way other than gurgles from dying to what I assume is Grise ??? She mentioned she was surrounded by a squad who unloaded all their weapons on her for \, then tried and failed to carry her away, then half left to presumably get their own plasma railgun, then one of the ones that remained to watch her was mean so she bounced. That's an extended period of interaction with no Grise in sight. Sure, it's possible they were carefully watching their words the whole time, and they're one of the rare death squads who try to kill subjects immediately and also don't make some variation of \ the first 1-5 things they say, and that she just so happened to have a mental break in solitary that had a curiously specific intelligence lowering effect. Could you really say it's more likely than her faking it?"} |
| {"text":"You laid on the cold floor, eyes heavy and limbs numb. On your left, the sun had begun to set… Probably the last one you’ll witness. Second by second, life slowly drained from your body. You weren’t a hero or a savior, but you’d like to think you gave more good to the world than evil. With that final thought, you closed your eyes one last time. “O brave soul…” Or not. You stood on a clear floor that reflected you, in an empty space that stretched as far as you could see. The clouds were no longer grey, but fluffy and white in a sea of blue sky. A woman stood, no, an angel… “I beseech you to save my people. I am Lumina, the goddess of my people. What should have been your eternal rest, I have taken your soul in order to save my world.” Her wings fluttered as the golden light around her head glowed. Everything passed by so fast it was difficult to catch up. You didn’ t think of yourself as a hero either. You were a survivor. [Choose character] Character 1 Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Travel to the adventurer's guild |
| textSorry guys no update today |
| textno worries |
| textWhile you weren’t an adventurer, you were informed by Starr that they’d allow you to join their guild. Hero or not, rules applied to everyone. So, your journey began. The king gave you essential supplies along with an allowance. You prepared your departure with Starr at an empty stable far from the main castle where few people visited. “No heroic sendoff?” Starr said. You shrugged. “It sounds nice but I’d be telling the enemy I’m moving. Besides, I have a den-den to communicate if something happens.” You pocketed the intricately carved blue and pink crystal. Starr nodded. “A wise choice. I must say you’re not the kind of hero I expected.” “You expected a shining youth with a bold red cape?” Starr chuckled. You opted for a simple medium armor: A chainmail, above that an armor called lamellar, conical helmet with aventail, and a medium shield. Back on earth, you wore light kevlar and thick layers for optimum defense and mobility. You’ve seen too many people layering themselves to protect against bites that they forgot they needed to run faster than the monsters. You tested the joints of your armor and moved around. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textA musket axe I'm no weapons expert, is this a gun with an axe head attached? Rather just have a normal musket."} |
| {"text":"“Plural gifts are hardly unheard of, though it’s more common that a single bloodline might have several potencies. But several children in the same family would be quite remarkable.” You put the book down as you let the thought roll around in your head. “And you’re *quite* certain they’re direwolves?” “I said so, right? Plain as day to a druid.” “That means that there are, in fact, monsters here in the North, where there apparently haven’t been in living memory.” Eva’s contented eyes snap open. “That’s- oh.” “Nor has anyone in this part of the world seen or even heard of spellcraft or other talents for centuries at least.” “Uh…” Eva sits up, chewing her lip. “That’s… not good, is it.” “Neither good nor bad, yet. But we’ll want to keep a very close eye on things over the next few weeks.” Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"“More than now. I’ve even heard respected generals in Corellia say that martial training hardly matters against shot and shell - which is true, right up until you have to fight someone strong enough to ignore them, and your whole formation crumbles like paper. I’m sure you’ve faced that before.” “… On occasion, I’ll admit.” “It’s worse here. The old man, what’s his name? Rodricus?” “Ser Rodrick Cassel,” you supply. “Well, Cassel is the only warrior of the fourth form in the castle. I don’t think anyone else even breaks third.” That surprises even you. Warrior forms are roughly equivalent in an abstract sense to a caster’s ranks, so fifth-form is the equivalent of a caster of the third sphere. Except that anyone with arms can wield a blade or spear or bow, and practice with them until their arms break; any professional infantrymen would have to at least reach the third form, and most major armies of the world had a core of fifth-form fighters to draw on and could reliably identify talent in recruits. Guardsmen of a high noble would not have army discipline, but their skill at arms should at least be comparable. But the captain of the garrison didn’t break fourth? And without casters or even proper talents, they relied wholly on force of arms… “It’s not like they’re fighting many monsters here,” Lukas says. “I’m not surprised.” Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Potential tasks to consider: 1) Learning Westerosi (investing as many spells as possible into Tongues and Comprehend languages will enable basic conversationality for the whole party by the time King Robert arrives, freeing up many spells later) 2) Jumping into experimentation on the nature of this plane, and the construction of a field laboratory using whatever’s on hand 3) Working on building a trade network to acquire reagents, parts, and a proper laboratory but delaying experiments until it’s finished 4) Investing all your spare power into creating a proper wizard’s tower (using contingencies and bound summons, traps, Explosive Runes, anti-scrying defences, et c.) 5) Jumping into trying to scry on known Nightrunners - they could be here and up to something 6) Analysing local supernatural phenomena like the spells under Winterfell 7) Physically exploring the North beyond Winterfell 8) Write-in tasks. You will do most of these things a little bit, but can reasonably prioritise no more than two. (Write-ins can be more numerous if they're minor specific tasks rather than larger projects.) |
| text1) Learning Westerosi (investing as many spells as possible into Tongues and Comprehend languages will enable basic conversationality for the whole party by the time King Robert arrives, freeing up many spells later) 6) Analysing local supernatural phenomena like the spells under Winterfell |
| textWell, not a lot of movement, so 1 and 6 it is. Writing. |
| textLet's begin with our Sparring Match, it will help inform my thinking."} |
| {"text":"Let's begin with our Sparring Match, it will help inform my thinking. |
| textLet's begin with our Sparring Match, it will help inform my thinking. Some wisdom and guidance from one one-eyed man to another"} |
| {"text":"Let's begin with our Sparring Match, it will help inform my thinking. I don't want to incriminate our sensei here any more than our crush, though I bet he'd be willing. A man doesn't get injured this much because he bows out of battles."} |
| {"text":"Let's begin with our Sparring Match, it will help inform my thinking. |
| textyou play as Argia Candente, the silver-haired Hand of Ansàrra. After proving your worth in your darkest hour, your Goddess has blessed you with many gifts. But the door to the Night opens, and the final hour looms… # # # # # # Welcome to the eight thread of Argia Candente’s thrilling adventures! Our scatterbrained, silver-haired (sporting a newly-found F-cup, by Ansàrra’s grace) Holy Knight (fully-fledged now!) with a penchant for daydreaming and less plagued by self-doubt after Ansàrra’s own blessings, on a quest to save the world from the resurgent Seven Sisters and their demonic rule.. For tomorrow dawns in darkness, and you may have to bear the light of Her sun upon your very shoulders… So, without further ado, let’s take a look at where we come from. And then let’s decide together where we are going. |
| textYou are mostly worried about ways to save Willow herself. The real battle will inside her heart and for her heart. Has there ever been someone who came into the light of Ansàrra after abandoning it? |
| textYou are mostly worried about ways to save Willow herself. The real battle will inside her heart and for her heart. Has there ever been someone who came into the light of Ansàrra after abandoning it? We did see Rosandra proselytizing to the Throneland's villagers after healing them two threads ago, Rosandra must have some experience in dealing with heathens's countless fears and doubts over Ansàrra's intentions by using more than just the threat of overwhelming violence. Your skill with your sword has greatly increased! You gain +2 for passing Rosandra’s challenge, and a further +1 for doing so with a flair (total: +3, see updated character sheet) Sweet, even sweeter to see that number in the character sheet qm (and all it took was Argia dying countless times until she memorized Rosandra's moveset like a true Bloodborne player), makes me tempted to train again just to see if Argia can get a bigger drop of blood from Rosandra, but frens come first |
| textYou are mostly worried about ways to save Willow herself. The real battle will inside her heart and for her heart. Has there ever been someone who came into the light of Ansàrra after abandoning it? |
| textYou are mostly worried about ways to save Willow herself. The real battle will inside her heart and for her heart. Has there ever been someone who came into the light of Ansàrra after abandoning it? |
| textHas she ever faced one of the Seven? Any specific suggestions? Besides what you already know… Rosandra is terrifying and especially eager to torture apostates. I really don't think she's the one to ask about Willow's immortal soul, or prospects of living to again see the Sunbirther's mercy and set foot on Her Holy Land's soft soil. She'll just be like \ |
| textA soft quiet hangs over the forest as you run through the underbrush. Compared to the lobby, it felt like a heavy blanket was draped over the arena and muffled everything outside. You do your best to not break the silence with your movement as you hurry through the forest. Spawns in an arena match are static but there were a few different locations where one could be spawned in. The limited amount of spawn points meant that anyone could narrow down the location of their opponent by heading over to them and seeing if they were there. That was, of course, assuming that their opponent hadn't moved in the interim. With how defenseless you were right now, you were sure that one or two direct hits from a simple spell would be disastrous. Not to mention her aim was far better than any newbie you ever saw. It would be best not to underestimate her, especially now that she had practice. You slide behind a fallen log and go prone. You strain your ears for any sound of your opponent but the silence persists. You needed to formulate a strategy. The set up of your fight was quite simple, each of you had 3 healing potions and 3 mana potions. Not too egregious but enough to give each other a pick me up in case of a bad hit. You're not sure how well you'd be able to utilize the mana potions at the moment but the healing potions could come in handy in a pinch. You also had your ability to cheat death once per real world day. It was an ability that Serena didn't know about and you weren't really sure you wanted to use for a simple spar. Lifting up your coat, you make sure that your canister of fuel on your hip was locked in and ready to use. A quick adjustment of the wrist and the nozzle for your igniter, a miniaturized flamethrower, pops up and ready to use. You only had about 5 shots with a single can unless you decided to empty it completely for a large wall of fire. Finally, you reach down and pop off the small buckle on your belt. You flick the small lid off of the fake lighter and see the tiny grapple hook pop out, ready to fire and zip you towards your target or pull something towards you if it was light enough. These were just two of the gadgets you had built in what you hoped would be a small arsenal of tricks you could use. Even so, you weren't sure how well they could carry you now that you were playing a class without features. |
| textFight Serena in close quarters but pull your punches. Teach her how to use her staff as a weapon not just a magic focus. Show her how to block and defend with it. |
| textFight Serena in close quarters but pull your punches. Teach her how to use her staff as a weapon not just a magic focus. Show her how to block and defend with it. |
| textFight in close quarters. |
| textUse your igniter and blast her with fire. Hammer in the point that a class someone plays doesn't fully dictate what they can do. expect the unexpected"} |
| {"text":"Use your igniter and blast her with fire. Hammer in the point that a class someone plays doesn't fully dictate what they can do. |
| text\ The toast, accompanied by sound of glass striking against glass, has been echoed by a diverse array of voices. You were not paying much mind to your own, but you've gotten quite appreciative of those of your crew: The calm barytone of Tufferson Kris, your krogan friend and colleague. The enthusiastic lilt veiled by synthetic buzz of envirosuit electronics belonging to Lea'Fari, a quarian pilgrim. Deceptively natural voice that Eve, your synthetic comrade, had chosen as her default one. And then there was a chorus of voices that you were only recently beginning to familiarize yourself with: those of the O'Riley family and their closest friends, with whom you were currently sharing a celebration in a homely little tavern at the edge of the freshly cleared green zone of the gradually reconstructed city of Klondike. \"...and to memory of those, whose souls may now rest free.\" One of those voices, an older, more subdued, continued, sobering the mood of the gathering somewhat as the cheer gave way to a moment of reverent silence. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Eve recounts her encounter with Jill, as well as her ingress into Johnson's suite. \ You raise your eyebrow. Eve responds by adopting a pose you haven't seen her take and give you an intense look with naturally coloured eyes that sends shivers down your spine. \"I can be very persuasive.\" She says with a smirk. Lea blinks. You close your mouth. \"I believe you. Alright, what happened next? Wait, that was around that time when Robert and I were picketing in front of the compound, right?\" \"That's correct. Your disturbance gave me enough of a window of opportunity to be able to investigate the suite and secure the evidence.\The primary objective.\Along with...\Cerberus.\} |
| {:I went and stopped by the camp again and ran another scan on the leftover gear. All top of the shelf stuff, not something a camper would leave behind, and not quite easy to source. That speaks to me of a very particular organization.\I've seen some of the similar stuff around Shroud facility, back in the day.\" Shroud. The terraforming spire that used to mitigate Krogan homeworld's war-ravaged environment. An artificial miracle with very mixed history of charity, atrocity and salvation. \ \ \ Lea asks incredulously. \ Eve predicts. \ \ You nod slowly, jogging your memory. \ \ You venture a guess as your focus slides back towards Eve's infiltration mission. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Well, this was hardly the time to bother with such trivialities. Which begged the question - what was this the time for? This was a good time to call Libella before you embarked on the priority mission, especially if her duty kept her planetside. Perhaps you could do just that. This was a good time to turn in and get some solid rest before embarking on Hackett's mission. Who knows what awaits you up there, and when would be the next chance to rest? This was a good time to spend some time with your friends. Relax and enjoy the ambience. It will be back into action tomorrow. (topics to chat about encouraged as write-ins) other (write-in) Thank you, friends. Worry not, I don't believe in curses."} |
| {"text":"This was a good time to call Libella before you embarked on the priority mission, especially if her duty kept her planetside. Perhaps you could do just that. You may not believe but it has claimed many a QM."} |
| {"text":"This was a good time to call Libella before you embarked on the priority mission, especially if her duty kept her planetside. Perhaps you could do just that."} |
| {"text":"Turning both towards the arriving Mu La Flaga, Allan scoffs at the Ace as Kira gives a curt nod. \"I appreciate you helping out with Maintenance with Chief Mechanic Murdoch out of Comission, Kid.\" Kira could only wince once again at the Mechanic he could only barely save back at Heliopolis, currently in a sedated recovery state after profound oxygen deprivation damages \"But you should know command gave YOU the machine, Not Allan.\" For their part the former test pilot just groaned as Mu reminded him of the reality of feeling powerless against the ZAFT assault \"Don't you feel like a bastard sending him off to fight the battles we should be having?\Says you, My Zero's operational and from the sounds you've been making while I've been doing hands-on maintenance. You can't pilot the Strike as anything other than a coffin\I understand the apprehension, the situation's far from Peachy. But consider this, Kid.\" Mu motioned as he laid a hand over the young man's shoulder \ Mu patted them before shuffling off from the Hangar bay as he made their way to the bridge, Leaving Kira once again with his thoughts. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textYour strategy meeting with the Le Creuset Squad over the FLUGG's role goes... Strangely aggresively. \"Yeah, I agree with Dearka, If you're carrying that firepower, why don't you just fire it at the damn legged ship and get it all over with?\" Yzak accented away into the main counterargument for the plan. \"Are you sure you're going to be safe? One stray beam shot from either us or the Strike and it could all backfire terribly.\I'll take my chances, the Pilot probably still has the colony falling apart fresh on their memory, I'm sure he'll prioritize me once I give chase\" Noticing a nervous fidget from Athrun, you stare at him as he seems to realize. Steeling his gaze yet noticeably looking strained as you decide giving it no mind. \"But really? Are we just getting the Strike out and capturing it? Rusty's blood is on it! He could have-\You shut the hell up about what Rusty'd done! We're capturing the Strike and it's final!\" Athrun decided to prance out, Dearka caught offguard by the outburst as Yzak just pulled by their shoulder, deciding to prepare both the Duel and Buster for the operation... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Confront Mayano and ask about their connection to Siegel Clyne. One does not simply just drop a summons like that"} |
| {"text":"Confront Athrun about the Strike... Particularly, what did he mean by \"Kira Yamato\"?"} |
| {"text":"On the outskirts of a town which its settlers call Chiffchaff, but which its occupiers call Al-Duarah, there lay scattered bodies on the dry, red ground. Some are beasts and some are men, or at least look like Man. Broken, bent, frozen and burnt. Some are drained of life, left ashen husks; others have had their life bleed out of them onto the settlement’s streets. Looming over them are slate-grey walls, their gates self-sealing, and atop those walls watch impassive black masks, with eyes that see on behalf of their master: Abdul Saniʿ al-Duruʿ, Abdul Murawwiḍ al-Wuḥūsh, Abdul Alhazred the Reptilian Infiltrator. The scaly, slit-pupilled swarthy Southron son-of-a-skink who killed your best feathered friend-for-life and your shapeshifting hundun friend-with-benefits. You are Zith-Zi, Boss Bitch of the Monstrous Regiment adventuring company, and an ex-goblin ‘nilbog’ made pretty by magic… …while You have gone by a few variations on the name CZ but have most recently settled on reclaiming your ill-gotten family legacy as Carazzi Yosef: one-time demigoblin cambion, and now a transcended Pure and Empty Vessel at long last. You came to the Southlands, across the Shieldwall mountain which separates it from the north-western lands of the Paladin Queen of Hawksong. You did so not to participate in their silly civilizational clash—what various shades of humans get up to with gnolls and secret subterranean lizard-men is none of your business. You came here to save your estranged boyfriend, fellow adventurer James Efron, from captivity in a Chiffchaff dungeon... …but in the process of procuring him, you punched through the army of enslaved hyena-men to their demon-wielding human-reptilian centre: Alhazred, the devious demonist and dark wizard who bested you in combat, costing you the lives of others whom you cared for. (To say nothing of Nicolette Testa, fashion-forward illusionist-enchanter who joined your quest and lost a body via bullet-blasted brain, only to be pieced back together with an emergency effort of esoteric expertise!) (Or Denise Lilla, the cleric you liberated, who suffered a similar fate in circumstances which precluded such a happy ending for her.) Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Yes, you need to know"} |
| {"text":"Yes, you need to know I'm surprised that a failed roll also gets the same result as him being confirmed as unfaithful |
| text1 post anons pls backlink as well |
| textYes, you need to know |
| textI’m that tapped out oldfag from last thread, this is my first time posting in this one as this vote peaked my interest, since I’d rather not have ZZ’s relationship forever plagued by her main hangup with Effron since this quest began. , if you think it’s relevant. Been around since Izzy, so I do understand where this is coming from. Also, as an aside, the new Captcha system sucks balls. |
| textLong have you wanted to be reincarnated into another world, obtaining some cheat skill and getting a harem of beautiful women to pamper and get pampered by you. After getting hit by a truck you got all that you wished for and more! Sort of. Well, after you discovered how good intimacy felt, mostly thanks to a certain goddess you brought down with you from heaven, you couldn't help but want more of it! So you've decided to make the best life you could have in this cliched, steampunk world you now call your home... Your name is John Doe, and you're just about ready to get married to a literal Goddess."} |
| {"text":"Welcome back, NotIseQM \"Either way let's put a rain check on that. I'm not done with you yet.\" You said before kissing her again. (You'll talk with Aila and Herta, revealing Herta's status as the Goddess of Artifice to your elf wife). I dont really see I reason to actively try turn Aila. Shame about that wedding cake and that it was destroyed. But how unlucky they were are sure their recall potion worked correctly"} |
| {"text":"Welcome back. I think that's the first time I've seen an update get cut off by falling off the board. Fair reaction to having your wedding crashed by strangers infiltrating your food. We'll have to track them down next time we're in Centris. \"Either way let's put a rain check on that. I'm not done with you yet.\" You said before kissing her again. (You'll talk with Aila and Herta, revealing Herta's status as the Goddess of Artifice to your elf wife). There's no reason to keep Aila out of the loop and, as sheltered as she might be, she's sharp enough to catch on herself eventually. While I have no doubt she'd also like to be firmly led by us and share in the joy of bearing children, I'd rather be gentle and keep her away from Herta's other habits as the cute elf we know. |
| textWelcome back QM Your lover and best friend, though the latter made you feel a little sad for a reason you couldn't quite understand. Herta is Johns first friend \"Either way let's put a rain check on that. I'm not done with you yet.\" You said before kissing her again. (You'll talk with Aila and Herta, revealing Herta's status as the Goddess of Artifice to your elf wife). Herta and Gerty have that archetype on lock we don’t really need more."} |
| {"text":"and best friend, though the latter made you feel a little sad for a reason you couldn't quite understand. Maybe it's guilt for having forced their bond at the start"} |
| {"text":"You are L2S Trollslayer Fiona Jarnafeldt, and you have taken a trip across the seedy underbelly of Helsinki. What you saw down there couldn't be more different than the city up here. Humans and aberrations living together. The ruins of the old city, hidden by the construction of the stormdrains and the new city above, dinky and rustic but far more human than this sterile white alloy jungle. Children, running around. You don't see many children in Helsinki at all. So few people even have the right to have one, you haven't a clue where a school is in Helsinki, but the undercity has so many. You weren't in your right mind for most of your adventure, having pulled an extreme measure of consuming an entire package of pervitin to avoid a highly dangerous target and seek a new exit. Of course, you lost focus and consciousness, losing control and wandering confused trying to stay undercover and getting into fights. The drugs and the fighting took a physical and mental toll on you, but you're alive. You had to take a week long break to properly recover, consuming nothing but liquid food for the past few days. Now you have to get ready for the giant mutant man-eating birds that are taxonomically called the Swans of White Death that are migrating from the north. But you're not thinking about the giant man eating swans or how your drugs made you think your sword was talking to you right now. Your eyes are wide open staring at this eight foot tall nipponese lady that might just be an aberration."} |
| {"text":"Percival's tone lightens up, having fond words to speak on the subject. \ Painting a vivid image of the scene, Blythe leans back with a chuckle. \ The idea of Lalli ever being a rookie is weird to you. At the same time, having seen how he \ with luonto first-hand, you can see that encounter happening exactly as it did. You would be surprised that this encounter was documented, but given Percival has brought up Lalli's luonto as special before, it makes sense that they would be keeping eyes and ears on his exploits. The topic of the sword might be something you should not bring up at all. He's already said he was not told much about the findings of the expedition to the north, so you shouldn't leak anything. Besides that, much of what you experienced comes from a state of drug-fueled delirium, but moreover, if anything you heard was at all accurate, it's definitely something he's not allowed to hear. Where did the spirit in the sword say he was from? A city called Lilac Neen? No, no. That wasn't quite it, but it sounded something gaelic. Your memory is too foggy for a clear recollection. This isn't your sword to disclose the details from, and you aren't interested in finding out which ancient mogul or politician is imprisoned in Blythe's gun enough to trade sensitive information, so you have to call it. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"The trip to the penthouse where the Chicago Red Dogs' have been staying was quick and easy. The worker at the front desk was made to expect you from the sound of it, and the air was thick with cigar smoke even from the far side of the door. Not long after a humble knocking from shivering hands did the girl of the Red Dogs open the door and let you in. The greeting wanted to be warm, but there was an awkward stink in the air. Judge Damian was at the dinner table smoking a cigar. He was very visibly not pleased, but you can't imagine he's mad at you. The drone is walking around the apartment as the engineer remotely pilots it and trains its actions with his own. Captain Mikey Riley is lounging on the couch, eyeing you up as you came in. \ the American man says in a loud but concerned tone. \ \ You weakly respond. \ \ Beth says, about to take your coat but your shuddering shoulders persuade her to let you keep it. She does a double take as she realizes whose coat that is. \ You have some words they oughta hear. Ask them how the hell they let Durant slip his leash long enough to run a gunsmithing enterprise in the undercity. You thought that was what he was made a slave to avoid. Goad them into joining the swan hunt, even without the big red dog. Tell them about the banquet and learn if they were invited; there's good food and all. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Politely prod about the announcement Katriina will be making. They've been in cahoots with her for a bit, and you are involved in Undercroft projects... Return the gun. You have no use for it. Keeping the jacket though |
| textAsk them how the hell they let Durant slip his leash long enough to run a gunsmithing enterprise in the undercity. You thought that was what he was made a slave to avoid. I want this option BADLY Return the gun. You have no use for it. But as said, we keep the jacket. It's Fiona's spoils by blood and she keeps it |
| textTell them about the banquet and learn if they were invited; there's good food and all. Politely prod about the announcement Katriina will be making. They've been in cahoots with her for a bit, and you are involved in Undercroft projects... I also agree with inntemrs of: Return the gun, keep the jacket |
| texttoo many Clanker sympathizers in this thread |
| textClanker That is their word, you can use Clanka if you must. |
| textDoesn't seem like I even need to vote but Gunner ‘Nines’ EK-939//79 Our hunk o' junk may only barely clear the threshold for sapience but that's what gives him character. This be me. Just now realized that 2 out of 3 of my votes have been for the most robotic option possible."} |
| {"text":"Excuse you. Find another verification post to hijack."} |
| {"text":"trying to steal a verification is a scum move, even for a 1pbtid voting for the Bot I'm not surprised. |
| textOne day at a time.... That's what the social worker assigned to you keeps repeating. It is to help with the 'rehabilitation' process or some such bullshit. They shoved you into a group home, tell you to study hard to finish your education and force you to socialize with girls your age. That woman has to know it's useless. You are going to age out of the system and get tossed within the year. What is the point? Everything has no meaning, no duty, no chivalry... This is all the fault of the Pretty Star Warrior bitches and those Arkadian Kingdom bastards! Those supernatural assholes destroyed the Sumi gang with their war over humanity and magic. It's hard to know which one did more damage. Was it the Arkadian Kingdom taking over and tainting every gangsters' heart crystal? Or was it the Pretty Star Warriors handing over all the dirty secrets of the gang to the cops after purifying everyone? Every allied yakuza in the Greater Tokyo association was furious. They issued the zetsuenjo permanent expulsion, a literal death warrant for the Sumi gang. The godfather had to willingly offer up his life and disband the gang to let his underlings off the hook. You remember digging his grave on that remote mountain. You remember the coldness of the soil, how hard it was to dig with the shovel. Hands bled and blood trickled down the handle, but you didn't stop. The grave had to be deep; it had to be proper for a righteous man. \"Azami...\" Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Intimidate the guy into leaving, you have the calm aura of a gangster and some old Sumi Brotherly Association business cards in your pocket... (Threatening Aura, Deception)"} |
| {"text":"Kick the guy in the balls repeatedly until he falls unconscious or runs away. Violence works wonders and you've trained for it... (Self-Defense Training, Fighting Fit) Gorilla anesan. If you can't beat some retard, the supernatural stuff is out of your reach."} |
| {"text":"Act all friendly like, and wrap your arm over the guy's shoulder. That way you can 'guide' him away and then kindly tell him to fuck off... (Beneath Suspicion, One Hiragana Character Difference) |
| textseems we're going for threatening aura and deception"} |
| {"text":"Does ane-san's toughness also extend to her endurance? Tarn! Tarn! Tarn! |
| textThe chase is on! There is much shouting and excitement, then the riders come a wall? A wall? Only at Mount Ao have the Kikka seen something so sturdy and high, and flat, and such a thing was made by the hand of a god. But this bears the mark of mortal hands, rough and imperfect, yet living. A kikka sets a hand on it, and the wall shudders and impales it with a spike that emerges. He howls in pain, staggering back, but hundreds of glittering lizard eyes stare at the wall in wonder. A stabbing wall!? It's poked, it's prodded, wildlife is forced into service and impaled. A stabbing wall! Rabble Riders [Communicate] \ They shout, hoping someone will hear. \ |
| textShare Rope with Mount Ao Pagoda |
| textLast turn The Shennong built walls on (10,25) This turn The Shennong moves to and builds a wall on (11,25) [UI] Profound Masters build a road into (8,14) as well as walls around it, prioritizing the east side [UI] Trade Diamond Fist to Thornshade/Tsss [MI] Zaraave moves to (3,27) Huang carries Zaraave to (3,26) Huang harvests Zaraave [MI] Huang feeds Zaraave the extracted pill to grant it the ability to breathe and hydrate on land Huang drops Zaraave in the dew pools Huang moves to (5,25) Pholipoly should already be at Mount Ao Convert mana to DI [MI] Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| text“The kikka have never bothered my mortals. I imagine they fear the consequences of making war with their neighbors. Still, trade would be a great boon for both our people. My spawn fear the water but I believe I could persuade some to build on a nearby island and learn to sail. If you prefer trade over land and have a settlement on the mainland I’m sure a road can be built but that will likely take much longer.\} |
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| {:She what?\Follow,\O-okay.\Fucking shit,\Fucking shit!\Arthur?\} |
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| {:Thunderpennius\} |
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| {:U-un mecha??\} |
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| {:Yog, how can you consider this low brow weeaboo garbage literature, let alone its highest form?\Yog, my dear, you keep doing that and the whole universe will unravel\knowing the unknowable\} |
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| {:mechanically\narrative\go with the flow\} |
| {:We can go together. I've learned from Kimble and Grey as much as Hawthorne. I think I could learn from you too.\""} |
| {"text":"As a longtime /co/ dweller I'd like to point out that Apokolips is a Marvel villain iirc. Are we getting some kinda meta crossover hints or red herring? |
| textNot a big Jack Kirby fan are ya? |
| text+1 |
| textKek |
| textreserved only for the most dire of situations. Yep |
| text\ Kiro stretched his arms, as he prepared for another exercite. Most people might think being a loader is some easy job, just passing things along, barely even really fighting...but it turns out cannon shells are heavy! And dangerous! And you need to pass them real fast and good or else they might fall...it's the kind of job that required muscles - and on that part, he can't be beat! |
| textBetween artillery practice, Nezu takes some time to sketch a sort of desperate antihero character with more than a passing resemblance to Kiro. The joy in earlier art isn't there, though, and he soon abandons the effort. He does eventually find it in him to do a series of doodles of camels, which makes him feel a bit happier."} |
| {"text":"Nervous at doing this on his own, Naro goes to refresh himself on explosives first Noting his enthusiasm and prior habits, he offers Ichigo some extra lessons in wiring fuses and prepping holes if he's up for it, though he'll handle the actual explosives until he's sure Ichigo can treat them with enough care and respect. In the first attempt in the field, thanks to training on hard rock instead of dirt, he uses far too much bang and sends people scurrying for cover under a rain of rocks and soil Subsequent attempts and the classes go much better, though he has to give a few people earfuls for being too cavalier with such dangerous items By the end, he's covered in soot, fumes and dust and more grateful for a hot shower than ever"} |
| {"text":"Holding the dynamite in his hand, Ichigo feels both adrenaline, excitement and fear. These things aren't like the firecrackers he used to make and play with at home. Luckily, Naro noticed him and decided to help. Naro taught him some more about the dynamite. Seeing them go off and destroy the rocks was eye-opening. Never had Ichigo seen such powerful explosions before. Naru does remark him to stay vigilant and careful handling them. The most exciting time in the army for Ichigo has always been artillery practice. Aiming the gun and letting it blast. But Ichigo also understand that when they have to attack the city, it won't be just a game anymore. It will be real."} |
| {"text":"You are a failure. Your life was an unmitigated disaster. A comedy of errors that would be funny... If it wasn't you. You USED to be a star. You USED to shine brighter than any other. You were a prodigy. You used to be... Someone. Everything you ever wanted and needed was within your grasp and you lost it. Now, though? You're nothing; your purpose has been ripped from you and you can't let it go. Everyday exists for you to daydream about what could have been. A pointless and painful exercise in imagination. However, you've realized something. If you can't achieve your dreams maybe your children can. It wouldn't be you, but at least your child would embody some of your essence. Their story would start from you- you would be an undeniable puzzle in their greatness. And that's almost enough. The question is... What was your passion? What is your regret? Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textMassacre |
| textScandal We did a Griffith and slept with the Princess, our child is the bastard. |
| textWrite-In Rape Tie-in with this |
| textScandal Someone found our teenage twitter account |
| textHealth |
| textYou are Tristain d’Rusalka, a noble from the United Kingdom of Fodlan born with unique abilities bestowed upon you by the Goddess. You have journeyed across the sea to the desert kingdom of Morfis after receiving an invitation to join a mysterious competition. Though you know little of the trials that lie ahead, the winner of this contest has been promised the hand of Morfis’ Princess, Yulia Xan Phanes, in marriage. Seeking adventures, thrills, and battles that would be worthy of your might, you embarked on this strange voyage with nothing but your trusted axe. After surviving the deadly third round of the competition, you have made it to the top eight of Princess Yulia’s suitors. The final round consists of a tournament, which sees you up against the strongest warriors from four different nations. Whoever comes out on top shall be crowned the next King of Morfis. Do you have what it takes to rule? Tristain d’Rusalka Level 42 Wyvern Lord (EXP: 20/100) HP: 78/78 (130%) Strength: 42 (75%) Magic: 32 (50%) Speed: 29 (40%) Defense: 33 (70%) Resistance: 28 (50%) Luck: 29 (65%) Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textA): Approach one of the competitors (Who?) Saoirse |
| textA): Approach one of the competitors (Who?) Saoirse We got any idea of which weapon we're entering apart from The Inexhaustible? Bolt axe or silver axe?"} |
| {"text":"what was the point of the sponsorship if we weren't going to buy anything... The true purpose of sponsorship was the kick ass amusement park obviosly. Guess she and Tristain already have a child together... Someone should inform Nadia there's another way for her to create life. C): Do nothing, wait for the official to arrive. Nice to finally learn that Fionn is a haughty prick lol. We haven't been in battle with him enough, time to fix that. |
| textOh, you'll be buying some stuff pretty soon..."} |
| {"text":"Is Nadia going to bling herself the fuck out with gold and gem accessories the moment Tristain wins the tournament?"} |
| {"text":"[Illusion of a quest AKA ONE SHOT.] The eternal malice of the sun bothers you from a long and weary sleep. You open your eyes for the first time. The world appears boundless and without form. You open your mouth and let out no vagitus to rend the air. The horizon is empty and full of opportunities. You are but a newborn and yet it is not hard to stand. Let's begin. |
| textHow can I open things wroten in post like 132457e982 or smthg ls? Im new |
| textOpen how? |
| textRolled 2, 3, 2, 2, 1 = 10 (5d3) Weekend work and break is over. Let's continue. Okie dokie. Take it easy. 1. Work on your English. 2. On either desktop or mobile, click on the number of the post and it will appear in the posting box, or type it out manually like a madman. Rolling between the following three sets of memories for the ENEMY (5 details, 3 lists -> 5d3):"} |
| {"text":"Rolled 2 (1d4) Rolling for the gun natures (1 detail, 4 lines): (1) (2) (3) (4)"} |
| {"text":"Ded?"} |
| {"text":"Last time, you made a bunch of phone calls yet again. Another long spiral of voices going in and out this damn device. Its electronic functions, square shape, and unnecessary brightness displease you. The world would be better without them. One day, you will return to older times, when you read letters — and complained anonymously over billboards. But that’s not now or then. The relevant fact is that Matilda is joining your efforts. The Mafia topic is more personal to her than half of the people here. But not all. Celia and Aurora have big stakes in the operation. Right now, your briefing came to a sudden stop. Once again Lydie dropped a cliffhanger worthy line. Your lovely Beth is a former member of the International Assassin Syndicate! Props to the hyperactive rich girl, when she said she was interested in the prisoner, she meant it. And somehow, she got the information from the femme fatale’s mouth! “Huh… I didn’t know that. I should’ve pressed Beth about her past.” Crossbill is fairly impressed. “Beth is a what…?!” Liu’s mind remembers the events of last night, and her poor frizzly head can’t wrap around it. “You’re making stuff up, Lydie. You should give me back my fanclub. Nobody should withstand a liar in a position of authority.” Vera frowns. “Anyone with me? I wanna see some hands raised.” “Get your own fanclub.” Lydie glares back. Isn’t it yours? “H-How do you have the gall to say that to me of all people?!” Vera can’t believe the shamelessness. “Besides, the point still stands.” Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"The happiness bar jumps from nothing to Max in an instant! Pet-Bulk-Nina has life back in her eyes! All her stats jump astronomically. The monster has been purified into a hero. Pet-Bulk-Nina hugs the wicked villain (a little too tightly for her to breathe), then both enjoy this dessert together! Also, Pet-Vortexia gets her happiness maxed, but with no stat increase. “Best friend! Best friend! Best friend!” Pet-Bulk-Nina wants to stay forever with Clutz! “Y-Y-Yes, we’ll be a great team! Absolutely! Ihehe…” Pet-Vortexia will adapt to this new life. “Did you ruin my build to prove a point?” Matilda is flabbergasted. “What do you mean ruined it? All her stats are boosted now!” You’re right about this. “You went over my authority.” Matilda isn’t all that pleased, despite the results. “I seriously wonder how we’re going to deal with our potential children like this.” “Our potential *what*?” You deadpan. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Thanks for running and happy new year!"} |
| {"text":"Thanks for running! See you in the new year! Johnny\" You okay with trying for double digits?\""} |
| {"text":"“You went over my authority.” Matilda isn’t all that pleased, despite the results. “I seriously wonder how we’re going to deal with our potential children like this.” Ohohoho, thanks for running and Happy New Year!"} |
| {"text":"What is this quest about?"} |
| {"text":"You are GEROME. You have been jailed pending trial on the charge of the RAPEMURDER of multiple infant babies. You are in the LONGHOUSE PENITENTIARY. You want to escape. What do you do?"} |
| {"text":"I'll resume tomorrow, probably. |
| textDeliver, this looks fun. |
| textMay you choke on 20 feet of penis, OP. |
| textOP is no longer with us. He has been accused of RAPEMURDERING multiple babies and sentenced for life |
| textMasturbate |
| textOH SHIT NIGGA. You are lady Firemane. Of the (formerly) noble house of Fireborn! You were once the greatest wagon racer this side of the kingdom. Sadly due to shenanigans, you lost everything and went into debt with the Adventurer's Guild in order to survive. But then you found the Inexperienced Hero, Ezekiel \"Kid\" Rutebega ! You took him under your wing to mold him into the hero he's always meant to be: your devoted apprentice (probably) Ezekiel's older brother has started his campaign of destruction, he leads his hordes of undead barbarians to ravage the lands. As members of the guild, your party has went on the quest chain to stop said undead barbarian horde. In pursuit of said barbarian horde, the party is currently going through the SPOOKY FOREST™"} |
| {"text":"Rolled 64 (1d100) What about THESE weapons, though? Flex aggressively"} |
| {"text":"Rolled 66 (1d100) I bet you don't have BIG MUSCLES like this, huh Knightess? You're probably too busy being lame to get gainz."} |
| {"text":"Rolled 18 (1d100) Or too lame to get Deez titz!"} |
| {"text":"Rolled 47 (1d100) Gamble for entry"} |
| {"text":"Your name is Harold Eadric, and you’ve just signed up for war. You don’t quite know what it is about, but at this point, you will take anything to get out of your village. Years you have been longing to become a man of the world, yet your circumstances have never allowed you to venture much farther than your local village with a name you cannot pronounce. At least you have been able to read stories about the world, and they only made you want to get out of this town more. Sucks then, that your existence up to this point has mostly been concerned with growing wheat. There isn’t much else you can do in this village, really – if you didn’t plough the fields, you’d have a hard time finding anything to eat during winter. So you wasted your childhood away in the drudgery of this eternal routine, just like your father, grandfather and those before him had. All the while, you hoped you’d find a chance to get out. And just as you had recently turned into your eighteenth year, fortune struck. \"The King is looking for brave men to join the Fight against the treacherous Laumey de Galamad! His men have attacked and slaughtered our people! Answer the King's call and join his armies!\} |
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| {:We've arrived!’ You look out the window and all you can see is sea as far as the eye can see. You run with the crowd to the upper deck. The crew continue to shout ‘we have arrived’. This is when you see it: an enormous lighthouse, a huge tower, an effigy in the middle of the gigantic and infinite ocean, a shining golden tower rising above the waves. A submarine appears out of nowhere from the darkness of the ocean, and the ship's officers make preparations to board the submarine. |
| textI didn't even play the games, just watched a gameplay like a decade ago haha..."} |
| {"text":"it's okay , now i have a an excuse to play bioshock 2 again . |
| textjust spend the morning with Ilona. |
| textbuy something (go to the shops and browse) Invite Ilona along with us, we want to tell her about our engineering workshop, and we want her to teach us about the shopping district. |
| textjust spend the morning with Ilona. |
| textA Tale From The World Of Frostpunk The year is 1909, and the Great Frost hangs over the heads of every living man, woman and child. In the previous decade, global temperatures dropped to an unsustainable point, and the geopolitical landscape of Earth was changed forever. Mass refugee crises. Starvation. Hypothermia and frostbite. War. Nobody survived unscathed, and billions perished in the chaos. Many of those that survived huddled around grand Generators, built by hundreds of engineers, acting as mechanical monuments to warmth and survival. Others sought out bold new technological developments, endlessly-running trains, subterranean colonies and grand zeppelins flying above the clouds. But for the majority, there were the Generators. You never knew the world before, having been one of the “Frostborn” — those that felt their first breath of air in this icy world. Your parents were British refugees, fleeing north from Newcastle with thousands of others. Things were very hard growing up, and you feel strange absences in your memory, repressed parts of your youth locked away by your developing brain. Mum and Dad always told you that the less was said about the White Years, the better. That was the worst time, you’ve gathered. Since then, many cities have fallen, crushed beneath instability, lack of resources or sickness. Others have developed into busy, industrious centres that now begin to hesitantly chart out the Frostlands beyond just the immediate scope of their perimeter. Your own city, Beacon, is one of the latter. |
| textMake your opinion known: this is absolutely NOT your field of expertise. |
| textTry to politely decline, if you can. |
| textMake your opinion known: this is absolutely NOT your field of expertise. Girl, we stare at machines and schematics most of the time, fiction is NOT that. |
| textMake your opinion known: this is absolutely NOT your field of expertise. |
| text(Enjoy your Christmas! Quest continues on Boxing Day!) |
| textbe you be at the edge of the world your people are finished the last great city is a sinking husk behind you the Old King is dead, choked on his own prophecies the crown is in your pack, heavy with failure ahead lies only the Black Sands, a sea of ash under a dying sun the scrolls say nothing lives there the scrolls were wrong something is moving in the ash, and it has seen you the survivors at your back are silent, waiting choose |
| text“We know the toll. Here is a life, willingly given.” You gesture to Vanatu. Are we gonna go back for the rest of the group? I don't feel like it's smart to split up in such hostile territory, we should keep all our warriors together, which we can't do if we have to leave some with the citizenry. Merry Christmas QM!"} |
| {"text":"“I am Ember, heir to the Sunken Throne. The Border Ghoul sent me to the Ash King. The treaty is between our peoples. Stand aside.” After we've renegotiated this treaty we'll return to our people. They aren't coming with us to the king. I doubt the logistics of moving four and a half thousand souls to the most barren part of the desert will hold up. They need to stay near water. |
| textYeah but if we aren't with them we can't make decisions about how to protect them, they could all die before we return? |
| text“I am Ember, heir to the Sunken Throne. The Border Ghoul sent me to the Ash King. The treaty is between our peoples. Stand aside.” Should it press, then the sacrifice, I suppose. I too dislike splitting from our people, though perhaps it is warranted. |
| text“I am Ember, heir to the Sunken Throne. The Border Ghoul sent me to the Ash King. The treaty is between our peoples. Stand aside.” |
| textSpring, 200X. Evening. _______ There is a ringing behind your ears. Your senses are dulled, and are wrestling with an internal static preventing you from regaining your grip on reality. For a moment you are stunned into forgetting the where and the why of the drama: that is what happens when you get caught in an explosion. Before numbness invaded your system a mysterious force smashed into the walls of your school. A villain appeared. You could never have predicted a villain showing up in your town of Hauteville. You and your class had little time to react. The entity collided with the building at lightning speed; demolishing one side of the school a flashy figure appeared. A rogue magical girl. The floor offers stability for your hands and knees to rely on, currently the most reliable object for support. The fuzz in your head vanishes at a snail's pace as teenagers scream in the chaos. \"This is revenge! I'm sick of being looked down upon! You only have yourselves to blame!\Where is she!?\} |
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| {:Go on! Get out of here!\} |
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| {:Psst, where are you going?!\I gotta see what's going on.\" you reply, carefully moving beneath the level of the window, while the sounds do not cease. Getting close, you peek over the windowsill in a hole that's missing from one of the boards. Beneath the light of the streetlamps you see them. They can be mistaken for bald, pale humans if one looks at them from a distance, seeing only their head and shoulders. From this close you can see the long hunched, almost crouched stance, and their disproportionately long fingers with clawed tips. There are four of them circling around a person, 20 yards away. Making a cacophony of gurgling sounds as they snap their sharp teeth at the man, who has his back against the light, making him hard to see. One of the pale figures gets too close in their feral intimidation, and the man springs forth with a yell. For an instant, you can see a flash of silver between his fingers, but they are too far apart to hold any weapon. It's over the moment you see it, and the monster falls on the ground, head split. Now that your eyes are drawn to it, you see three more of them lying around with similar wounds. You don't have much time to look at, as the man changed his position and now you can see him fully. He is wearing long brown robes, and a lighter sash, but his clothing is not really in focus, as his most striking feature is his face. He has the smooth, polished head of an ant. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textA) Look for a job |
| textThe cold, crisp air of the surrounding environment chills you to the core. The city looks so different from above, the streetlights appearing like stars from below as you scale the sleek, ebony, dimly lit skyscraper. \I read you, Crow. This important?\You're nearing the entry point on the 60th floor, systems picking up multiple readings on the floor just above you. Remember.. our client wants this done quietly, you grab the USB from the floor above, get back to the breached entry, get the fuck out, preferably with no unnecessary casualties. You understanding me?\" The masculine voice asks. You look up, spotting the cut window still intact with it's frame you race up the remaining little bit of the building you have left. You press your hand against the window and.. CLICK The window comes out of the frame, your one suctioned hand sticking to it, stopping it from falling to the ground and alerting someone. You slip inside the building from the breached point and take off your climbing gear, placing everything in your black duffle bag hanging off your side. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textWhere's Spyder? Normally the sneaky stuff fires her up. Why's she not doing this gig? |
| textGive me a rundown of the details for this job, Crow |
| textSo.. what DO we know about the client who hired us |
| textGive me a rundown of the details for this job, Crow Eyes on the prize |
| textGive me a rundown of the details for this job, Crow |
| textIt’s when I’m contemplating the optimal way of wasting my life away that there’s a knock on my office door. “Come in,” I grumble, threading the slightest bit of power to the sigil on my left pointer. You can never be too cautious. The door swings open, and in steps a woman wearing a sundress with enough color to give me an instant headache. I note she has four arms, four eyes, and skin leaning on a purple hue. Must be some type of Arachne, then, but the specifics of her parentage aren’t exactly my problem. She steps right up to my desk, fearless, and graces me with a smile rife with one too many fangs. I thread just a teensy, tiny bit more power into my defenses. Just in case. “Hullo, mister wizard!” The woman says in a voice a touch shriller than I expected. “My name’s Gina, I saw the papers you placed around town regarding your services, and I wish I could’ve greeted you earlier, oh, but I’ve been so busy the last week. I adore new arrivals, and magic, and–” “Yeah, hello to you too.” I wave a hand to stop her rambling before it splits my poor head open. “You got a magic problem that needs fixing, or…?” I stare up at her. Gina pauses for a moment, brain rebooting - if she even has one - and smiles wider. “Oh, yes, yes indeed I do! You see, there’s been something strange happening! I run a clothing shop down the street, and I’ve been hearing the strangest noises. It’s like something’s scampering around, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t even catch a glimpse of whatever it might be. I’m worried something sinister might be stalking around. Is it possible your magic might be able to sniff out the perpetrator? I can pay!” A rat? Is that what she wants me to deal with; a wizard, formerly of the Star Circle, reduced to dealing with rodents? I briefly wonder what my mentor would think of me now… if they even deigned to think of me at all after the incident. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textI tell the truth and say I don’t. I tell her I’m new in town and want to greet the mayor. Mention that we are a wizard, that puts us on the important people list. |
| textI ignore her completely and walk past her towards the stairs at the back. Dealing with this only wastes time. It’s not like a secretary is gonna kick my ass. |
| textI tell the truth and say I don’t. I tell her I’m new in town and want to greet the mayor. We clearly have no sense of prudence, so we might as well. |
| textI have faith in OP after how well the “turn all their clothes into pitch” write in was handled. Seems to be a good enough QM to not hit us with trap options in the first arc when we’re still figuring out the setting. Prudence has nothing to do with it. |
| textI tell the truth and say I don’t. I tell her I’m new in town and want to greet the mayor. |
| textYou are a DUCK. You live a good life and enjoy a diet of worms, pondweed, amphibians, seeds, and of course, the occasional spattering of bread. Life has been slow at the pond. What do? |
| textDucky! |
| textDespite your best instincts, try and fight. |
| textMaybe we can be a cool fighting duck someday Despite your best instincts, try and fight. |
| textDespite your best instincts, try and fight |
| textRUNNING ISNT GONNA WORK, YOU IDIOT! FLY! FLY! |
| textAI Overview Community theater quotes capture the passion, humor, and unique challenges of local stagecraft, focusing on shared human experience, the magic of collaboration, and the joy of live performance, with lines like \ (often attributed to Oscar Wilde) or \ (Julie Theobald) highlighting the dedication and quirks of the scene. You love these 85IQ simps. You're the new director for the local catlic theater. Ever since you were a kid, I mean, you're still a kid because where you are, you've got to be 65 to be not a kid. But anyways, ever since you were a kid, you've participated in all the theater stuffs every season without fail. Mostly at your same local theater, but also the summer camps and your college degree, and now it's finally happened, you've been chosen to be the new director. Who even are you? Garry Hermano Cunty McCuntface Sophy Artho Steven Johnguy Jeff Joo |
| textGarry Hermano This guy has a good range of experience, and is one of the only two characters with an actual education in directing. |
| textone of the only two one of the three* |
| textI have nothing to add, except that I'll lurk for now."} |
| {"text":"It's been almost two weeks, has a decision been made? Yes, it's finally been made. We had alot of things to consider, but we're pretty sure we've made the best decision. The new director will be Sophy and Garry. Two directors? Well, not at the same time. But they'll both get to choose and direct individually. Is Steven Johnguy upset? No, of course not, he'll probably get the leads again. Lets announce the decision to everyone."} |
| {"text":"Go on, introduce yourselves. \"Hello, everyone. If you don't know, I'm Sophy and this is Garry, and we're going to be the new directors! I have lots of ideas of the kinds of scenes you guys want to perform. I want to direct a rape scene, and with your guys' performing, it will be more realistic and engaging. I haven't decided yet if we're going to make a new play or do one that already has one in it, but we're definitely going to do a rape scene. It will probably involve Cunty, but who knows who else! It could be Steven or someone who's lurking that you don't even expect! I'm really looking forward to this year!\" \"Oh dear, I'm Garry, I'm really looking forward to work with you guys. I'm planning on directing things that have already been critically acclaimed and successful that will be a really good experience for everyone. Most of you haven't done book of mormon or wicked, and I think that's a really good place to start, instead of opera or whatever.\} |
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| {:the hunter\} |
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| {:did something\} |
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| {:elf.\} |
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| {:I want to help my fellow man. Helping them with their own burdens.\} |
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| {:I want to help my fellow man. Helping them with their own burdens.\} |
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| {:It's too dangerous to leave! you'll die out there!\} |
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| {:the lights are bright\} |
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| {:You feel there was a great injustice in your home and feel powerless to amend it here. Is that right? There is power here, Asli, more than any bow, however well-strung, could wield. The sultan has that power. If you reach his ear, that could be yours to use.\Be tender, be polite, sooth him whenever he is feeling glum, comfort him when he is feeling weak. Temper his anger, through affection, you can gain freedom, for what does man love more than woman? Freedom, my dear, shall be yours, and I shall help you gain it.\You have quite the way with words, my little dragon. Though you are no bird, you remind me of a sable raptor my brother had; quite the hunter it was.\But I shall do as you ask; I will present myself before the sultan tonight and see what may happen.\} |
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| {:don't play rough.\" But inevitably someone would cross the line, and pushes and kicks and punches would be thrown over a crude joke or a prank, or for any one of a million stupid reasons. You were never one of the offenders. But you do remember a close friends being a frequent troublemaker and an almost semi-permanent fixture inside the principal's office; on returning he would parody the principal's lecture in a faux serious voice—”propriety this, behavior that,” and other such things that kids liked to make fun of. But at the end of whatever day he'd decided to make trouble, you would always spot him sitting on a chair inside a bereft classroom, looking downcast. Then you'd see his mother and the homeroom teacher deep in conversation, walking down the hallway and entering the room, closing the door behind them. The following day he'd always return muted and solemn, and no roughhousing would occur for several days. You'd learn many years later that at dinner, when his father would ask \"How was everyone's day,\disciplined\} |
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| {:mommy\breeding pits\} |
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| {:I uh...choose red I mean knowledge,\Oh now what you have done you FOOL,\You should NEVER accept their offer...fuck.\} |
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| {:Double Cross,\sauna.\} |
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| {:Sorry, but no. I mean, I knew of him. But, if you're wondering, I didn't know about this connection when we met.\Hey, why the hell does everyone here think you killed that monster back in the Zone?\I mean, not that I mind, but...\People here have been fed a different version of events. Nobody here seems to know about Maggde.\} |
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| {:Gill and Kane, stay here and keep watch. Alert us if anybody sails near the wreckage. The rest of you, with me.\Boys... we hit the JACKPOT!\} |
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| {:Lieutenant Askeland of the UNSC special forces. I'll be taking you into custody Thorstand. But first, you will give me the locations of the men you'd sent into hiding Write in: *and* the priesthood. Whiteshirt's Godi steered him true. I want what they know and you'll give it to me. One way or another.\} |
| {:Lieutenant Askeland of the UNSC special forces. I'll be taking you into custody Thorstand. But first, you will give me the locations of the men you'd sent into hiding\} |
| {:Lieutenant Sven Askeland of the UNSC special forces. I'll be taking you into custody Thorstand. But first, you will give me the locations of the men you'd sent into hiding\} |
| {:Vali. Get me a log of every recent transmission. We'll forward them to the officer of naval intelligence. Daisy, bag and gag the ta"} |
| {"text":"+1 Yeh this should conflict and the more info we get the higher chance of ending einherjar once and for all. Doesn't really matter if they figure out svens connection. |
| textA wild (possibly tameable?) mynock appears! The disease is telling me to write a \ quest Yes please |
| textNEMESIS update! To kill, capture, or the hunt? |
| textAll this mechanics discussion did trigger my hyperfixation again. The best alchemy mechanic of all time just popped into my head, fully realized... |
| textThinking of running a not!planescape quest, has it been done before? Can you give me a link if that's the case? If you are not familiar, it's essentially a big city connected to several different dimensions, where incredibly powerful beings coexist with mortals |
| textForgot to do this earlier but: Gotham City Beat Cop returns this week for the action packed task of... informing the next of kin :( Help us break the news here: |
| textAcross the stars there exists a legend walking among the myriad species of the stars, and his name is Zarus. Zarus is a creature that is known as a human, a species that came from somewhere unknown. In truth, they aren't too much unlike those of the intergalactic community, with meager lives only a fraction as long as yours, of flesh and blood and with hands and feet, spacedust given fleeting form. Only, Zarus himself isn't like other humans - at least, not to your or anyone else in the galaxy's knowledge. Zarus is the most powerful of all psykers in the galaxy. This is by far, no contest. He doesn't perform acts as directly lifting his enemies and sending them flying, no. His reality changing powers are matched only by his warped perspective and inflated ego. Many have tried to kill him, and the world itself bends over backwards to protect him. Bullets sheer by him, laser weapon systems malfunction as they pull the trigger, bombs spontaneously detonate before he enters their blast radius, and other psykers lose their powers as he draws near. Some speculate you could catch him off guard with orbital bombardment or destroying the very planet he stands on, but the empires of the galaxy know he is more precious alive than dead. If it weren't for his self-centered attitude and racial prejudice, he would have had any seat he desired in any empire of his choice, but he prefers the free life of a gun for hire. If you were to believe the man himself, he was once part of a crew of fifty men sailing through the stars, incidentally struck by debris of an ancient errant missile smashing into a nearby asteroid. The lone survivor, he landed on a fertile planet in the process of colonization and took it as a sign he was still protected by his gods. The planet he refused to name, but rumor has it he calls his home the \"mystic city of Agartha.\" Many have gone to search for it. Some empires are running vast intelligence operations to acquire any information they can about the city. You know better than to actively go and find a planet where there may be hundreds, thousands, millions of humans just as capable as Zarus in the psychic arts. Their elevation to a spacefaring race would upheave the order of the entire galaxy. So of course, you came across the planet on pure accident."} |
| {"text":"Abduct humans for language and world knowledge. (Anthropology. Veil: 25, DC 7. Reward: 7 Progress/Success.) Investigate Colony Beacon. (Free Study. Veil: 0, No DC. Reward: ???)"} |
| {"text":"One of your crewmembers remarked how you have been ordering them backward, that they should have laid groundwork for the world's politics and the colony beacon first. Nonsense. You had to make sure that the lifeforms on this planet would complicate matters- which, as you are all now well aware, they are very capable of. You are a larger form of life than others, and as such your ships are scaled to a large degree, but the common form of those sky beasts are comparable to one of your scouting ships in size, the largest of which is a rather large fraction of your superyacht's size; which is no small feat, and would nevertheless wreak havoc upon the exterior should it get close. Clearly they have never heard of looking before leaping. Now that you have marked off certain regions as requiring clearance to even be near, you can perform more safer tasks. Now, you will humor that crew member by sending him on the scouting ship to identify and \"acquire\" some multilingual and knowledgeable Agarthans. The Agarthan tongue is familiar to you, so one of them is the easiest starting point to learning other languages and cultures. It may be risky; none of your casual observations have shown the average human performing the reality-warping acts of Zarus, but perhaps they may not have been pressed to... Conducting Human Abduction. Roll 3d20, target DC 7."} |
| {"text":"Rolled 13, 9, 15 = 37 (3d20)"} |
| {"text":"Investigate Colony Beacon Off to the forests of southern Agarthan territory, a thick natural border between the metropolitan area of the golden megacity and a nearby desert, there is a now overgrown crash site of a small colonizing ship of your origin. The initial scan of the area was bleak, but the scouting returned grim results. Your kind descended onto this planet in the most haphazard and reckless fashion aboard this space-faring ship. It is mostly intact, but inside the ship are bodies snapped out of shape in ways even your kind cannot recover from. They clearly died on impact. Most colonizer ships are staffed with a crew of 50, bearing themselves, capsules containing the future of your species, and relevant beacons to beckon the automated colonization system to wherever they deem fit to plant their roots.This vessel had no distinct mission, just to survey and mark outer regions of the galaxy for viable planets for assimilation into the empire and to lay the groundwork when they do. Whether or not these planets were occupied were of little import; the way your colonization works, hovering over the planet and beckoning resources hither would have been enough. Under zero circumstances should it have even attempted landing. Checking the itinerary, the crew included mostly standard volunteers and experts in colonization, but also a very peculiar VIP; an admiral of repute, one who had went missing nearly a decade ago on a personal leave. After triple-checking the nearby surrounds, your crew has found 48 bodies of your kind. Between the horrific mangling of the bodies aboard and the natural decay of particular features, none of them are even remotely identifiable. Any survivors made zero attempt to seed this planet and zero attempt to escape it. No landing program or poor piloting can be the cause of this. All in all, the report offers a chilling suggestion: someone with authority of the controls had put the nose down and said good night for themselves and everyone aboard. What would compel someone to perform such suicidal assassination has been beyond your kind for eons. To convince one of your own to end the lives of their peers is... unfathomable. You dread that the perpetrator lived to tell the tale, and collect whatever reward they had on the admiral's head. Or that the Agarthans found the wreckage and extracted two bodies of your kind for whatever purposes they see fit. Frankly, you do not know which would be worse. |
| textOP? |
| textIt’s a beautiful early Wednesday morning! All the love sessions have come to an end, and now you must return to the not-so-violent reality (because you’re cuddling with Beth); one in which you must keep your promise. You must go on a date with Celia. She even went through the trouble to remind you with a text. Not the best way to wake up, but a way to wake up nonetheless. You must fulfill even if you’re tired! And if! With the legendary Calamity Cola, you’ll be at 100% in a second… You drink the evil beverage to recover all your stamina. “Busy again?” Beth woke up as well. “Yeah, sorry…” You lament. “Relax, my beloved. I have you covered…” Beth snaps her fingers. “Don’t forget to return to me once again.” You reappear at the front of the Prisoner’s house with your casual clothes on! Oh, and with a breakfast box. Looks decent. It’s like you were expelled out of Beth’s domain back to the silly real world… It’s pretty clear that, with the thermostat still broken, it’d be better if you part ways — and do your own thing. The problem is that you weren’t here alone! Maybe you should ask them to bring those lovely people over? What do you do? Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textWhat a twist! |
| textThanks for the run! |
| textThanks for running. |
| textNina needs to go on a diet. |
| textBut then how will she smother us lovingly with her jumbo magumbos? |
| textWe should probably send in a relief force or at least an embassy of sort to earth. Has cooler already set that into motion? |
| textNo Karn is not. He's under the impression the JL ARE the authority. I can see where he's coming from with that honestly. Did anybody in the League or from the world's various governments thing to clarify that with him at some point or...? The actual planetary authority of a planet like \"Earth\" feels like something the General of the PTO should be aware of."} |
| {"text":"I don't think I phrased it well. The space empire cares enough to almost IMMEDIATELY send down their representative when a single city's been destroyed and eliminating the culprit expediently shows the PTO is not only watching but cares about protecting the people. We may be genocidal, but we won, and that means peace is finally kept. That's important. this, love to see the gangs react to selfish asshole tm doing his best. Its on par with similar groups has worked with that he didn't ask for clarification, if Bruce brings it up then we can find out in character if nobody got the info to cooler already."} |
| {"text":"Tournament of Power was great. I enjoyed it very much. It was also very interesting to see how different it was in our timeline from what happened in the anime. A wiser Destroyer, one Zamasu may initially see as weak but may help mold his mind towards making his mortals better. Can you even make him better now? Or will it end up in Zamasu doing his job of taking care of the growth of mortals while at the same time hating it? Secretly dreaming of returning to his “ningen killing times”? Especially without the bad influence of the other Zamasu, who were rounded up when fleeing your timeline. Time Patrol’s did their job. Nice. And from between your raised hands, comes a faint, golden glow. I’m happy that Batman figured out how to use it. Bit of a different epilogue than I think many were expecting It was, but it was a very nice epilogue. I liked it."} |
| {"text":"It's TIME! |
| text\ The aged matriarch of the still waters' matriarch asked, slowly dipping her fingers into the burned out ashes of the incense you offered her, to feel the lingering traces of the emotions and effort the craftsmen unknowingly infused the sticks with \"A bold claim I know, but my\" You say, smile faltering as you felt your eyes tear up as memories of those friends you had lost swelled up inside of you but, quickly you composed yourself \"childhood companions are hunters who are a peerage unequal to any but themselves. They're hunters of beasts, of men, and of beings far more terrible than either\Then why not call all of them, as surely is your right as their head ranger?\I sense, that even those who had departed to the halls of their ancestors have delayed their journey to aid you yet\You're quite perceptive of the spiritual realms, madam\" You compliment and chuckle \"And that is because I do not command them, all they have done for me is a friends' favor repaid. They've their own lives and interests, and most of the panther hunters are presently teaching colonists how to make the most vicious of the galaxy's predators their quarry. But not Dong\But not this one, whom you know is not busy with other tasks given to them by their own self or their superiors\Dong was born with a peculiar physique, spiritually I mean. He lacked, the spiritual roots and core that all men share. Some would think this condition made him soulless. And it makes many, subconsciously, instinctually, overlook or avoid him\Where others have an ember burning in their chests, or in your case a well tamed and carefully maintained flame\And the pyre raging around you, fueling and devouring itself to mend the tears it has inflicted on itself\Dong has nothing. No heat. No flame. Not even smoke. He is, of all the brothers of the panthers including even myself, the natural predator of daemons\But, that same natural advantage and forlorn curse he was saddled with, means that the aura of unease he inflicts on others is amplified upon those who share our gift\} |
| {:Dong\And that is because, those wielders of the White Flame, are presently undergoing trials of their own. And Dong is a better hunter, a better tracker, a better stalker\It sounds as if you intend to hunt the dark apparitions\No. I simply kill them wherever I find them, and have encountered them often enough to get a sense of when they are likely to appear. I am merely relaying a warning, that there will be dangers greater than anticipated, that we will face, me, Dong and whoever after hearing of my friend's void aura and the\" You explain, before tapping the brand on your head \"Beacon that will draw our enemies through the gap in the veil\" \"You don't become a dark warden for being timid hearted and weak willed!\If anything, hearing this will just make them consider it a challenge. If I wasn't bound to this chair, I'd march with you to show you that we aren't dabblers, boy\" \"Guozhi would've liked you. I'm sure the surviving elders of the Wanderers of the Fog will be happy to make your acquaintances as well\" You chuckle, knowing she'd get along famously with the twins \ She said slowly Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textPossibly romantic. But just as likely that he simply wanted someone who knew the life of hardship and loneliness he had lived to talk to. \ You ask and Dong clicked his tongue, nodding as if you'd given him a divine revelation. Not long after, the Dark Wardens arrived. Dressed in armor styled after the tomb decorations and statues of the still waters, they were silent and clearly uncomfortable around Dong, who picked his nose as they, ceremonially, presented their shields to you. \"Getting a headache\" Dong grumbled, rubbing his brow as the escort party stood at attention \"You really are like that big blazing hole in the sky\" One of them said in awe, as Dong grinded his teeth. \"He's just a man, like any other. Not some kind of sun\ You chuckle and shrug Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| text\ The younger, female warden warns a you examine one, having been curious how it'd react to wrydmercury and warpsilver, before a familiar green glinting caught your eyes. The corrupting crystal. Warpstone. \"New outcropping of fools emerald\" The head warden huffed \"Freshly grown, spreading fast\" \"Shouldn't be any strays down here for it to mutate?\Shouldn't be\" He repeated \"But we rarely patrol these tunnels\" \"Interesting\" You hum as you pluck a small mushroom and extra a frail soul from it and release it to the empyrean, gently as the mushroom withers away in your hand \"And most foreboding\" But there were greater mysteries yet to be seen in those tunnels, besides soul trapping mushrooms and warpstone. That you knew for certain. And while the wardens argued about which path to take, as was a favorite past time of the Aipang, you sensed a number of rivers of malevolent, discordant Qi rushing down each pathway Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"The moat of avarice and sorrow, attuned to metal, that bubbled down through a trade route marked by the still waters as cursed"} |
| {"text":"Did I fall asleep?"} |
| {"text":"Yes! This is actually the perfect time! \"I have something to tell you!\" (She said it kind of loud.) The room is instantly silent and Cady glances around at everyone else paused in their clean-up and looking toward her and then she turns toward the wall before she starts to blush. I should have waited until we were alone! But it's too late now! Cady looks over her shoulder at Ren and then turns toward him and looks up at him. \ Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| text\ Oberon tilts his optics toward Ren as they reach the bottom of the academy steps. Lyra pops of on Oberon's other side and nods authoritatively. \"It should be a protocol droid! We had one at home but Obi kept taking it apart!\" \"It had some useful- I mean, they don't need to hear about that.\It should be an assassin droid!\That would help keep the academy secure, and we could spar with it too!\A medical droid might be nice.\The academy doesn't have much of a clinic.\" Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Suddenly, the center of mass shifts within her hands and Cady looks down. \"Guh?\" A crack appears on the rough gray surface, and then another crack is enough to make a small chunk fall inward. Cady peers inside and sees an eye blinking out at her and then the stony material shatters in her hands. She stumbles backward and a small tan creature with leathery wings and a fat tail lurches upward and flaps in midair in front of her face as a nametag appears in front of it. It's a baby mynock! It's too adorable! And it even has a Force point! The mynock screeches and Quadi recoils and grabs a metal bar. \"A mynock!\" Deline's hand is on her lightsaber hilt and suddenly the yellow blade ignites. \ \ Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textCould we lure it back? So we have a spare starship battery, or engine or whatever? They feed on energy from ships, right? |
| textCould we lure it back? |
| textYou see his face. Sharp razor slit eyes etched onto a hulking creature’s giant head, which would give children across the galaxy vivid nightmares, stare into your soul. It produces no feeling of horror or fear, nor any other natural response, because you know him. Those eyes that are locked onto yours are dulled, empty, lifeless. The vacant glare causes your heart to wither in your chest. It was you, you did this, you killed your closest friend. A man who has saved your life, and you killed him. Now his face is slack, muscles relaxed, and his eyes are barren; all that vigour and life that he carried around with him is forever gone, never to return. It was your choice to kill him. Sith Lord Yvalok presented the options to you. During your months on Lao training as a Sith Acolyte you, Vulfstahn a child of the extinct Sith people, have shown a wild potency with the Force which is unequalled by your supposed peers. This rare talent caught Yvalok’s eyes and has him captivated with your development, wanting nothing more than to see you flourish. The ancient human decided to gift you hate through a choice: slay Urr’tal in a duel or watch as Yira gets gangraped. You gave the withered husk of a Human your answer. With a slash of your sword, you betrayed Urr’tal, ending all the myriad great possibilities he could have achieved in his prodigious lifespan. The Sith Lord that would be nothing but a frail old man if not for his mastery of the dark side of the Force stands above you as thick red ichor spews from the Whiphid’s severed neck. Forced onto the hard durasteel floor by a burst of lightning, you are enveloped by the growing pool of your friend’s blood. His decapitated head rests in front of you, not able to steal your eyes away from the lifeless face as his matted fur stains from his bleeding. Yvalok monologues and lectures, but you can’t hear him. The unblinking eyes have stolen your world. |
| textI was thinking between mid Jan to early Feb, but it depends on life. I struggle to fit writing into my daily routine. |
| textGoodluck then boss. |
| textLooking forward to it! |
| textGotcha I'll see you then!"} |
| {"text":"Soon Hopefully"} |
| {"text":"OOC: Let me just preface this by saying this will be a short one shot. While there may be more in the future, please treat this as a stand alone story. ---- You awaken from a particularly fitful dream by a gentle nudging at your shoulder. \"... Red. Little Red, it's time to wake up. It's not good to sleep in. I have an errand for you.\" The voice is soft and maternal, but wholly unfamiliar. Internally, you resist the call to wakefulness, but the person trying to nudge you awake is persistent. You open your eyes and find yourself in a little cottage. There is a bed for one person opposite the one you're lying in, looking like it was freshly made. You remember being a Boy Girl Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textBy the way, in case I come back to this later, your downtime has restored 3 Health, bringing your health to 5. |
| textBlack Pete sounds like he is based on the old version of Sinterklaas' helper here in the Netherlands It's kind of early to end the thread though, we're still pretty high on page 1 while 4chan only deletes after page 10 but that is up to you. Just know you can't have more than (I think) two active at a time and a thread is active until it drops of from board 10 whether or not people post in it |
| textSadly, I've only prepared one adventure for now, so I'll need some time to make more plot beats. It could be a couple of weeks, but it could also be a month or so. Also you're correct in that Black Pete is based on Zwarte Piet"} |
| {"text":"I think it is three active quests at a time. Modpost says it is five, but I'm pretty sure it is three. I'll get around to feedback some other time. Thanks for running this though."} |
| {"text":"Fuckit. Wield Elton. Maybe he’ll eat that dumb tentacle vizier. In some last ditch effort, you dig into your PERSONAL SPACE and pull the radioactive goldfish from it, its teeth GLEAMING in the late-day sun. ELTON snaps a few times at the air, twisting in your grip and trying to contort its head back to snap your nose off. \"My, my. A fish.\" The MUTANT KING does not bother to stifle her laughter. \"I suppose it could make a nice appetizer. Then, you as the main course. And your little pet eggplant as desert.\" The KING looms over you now, bayonet in tentacle--though you may dwarf her in height on your feet, her shadow seems unimaginably large now over you. ELTON snaps at her a few times, but with her so close now, you realize just how short and stubby your chosen weapon seems. \"Oh, well. You made a good try for my crown.\" She smiles, tilting her head. \"But the title of WASTELAND KING was just too high a tower to scale, even for an ape like you.\" Wield Elton in some fashion. Absolutely no rolling for it. [Write-In.]"} |
| {"text":"\"Hey Elton... you like Calamari?\" Wield him like a knife, try to either disarm her or have him latch onto Katsuragi."} |
| {"text":"+1"} |
| {"text":"After retrieving your precious GOLDFISH PIRANHA knife melee skin from your bra, for no reason whatsoever scream THE BOMB HAS BEEN PLANTED then melee rush the opponent with unsheathed fish, everyone knows that drawing a knife makes you run faster due to faster game physics except the knife is a fish. Then bludgeon / slash opponent with golden fish attempting to circle rmb click aiming for a headshot. Because this version of outdated gameplay is being emulated on modern hardware (a phone??) you will slash through reality achieving 1000 frames per second"} |
| {"text":"More squid knowledge!"} |
| {"text":"You are Motoharu Hisanori, and today, April 3rd, marks the beginning of your high school life."} |
| {"text":"Games Historical videos Maybe you'll play video games with Kyosuke later, in the evening, but for now, you decide to watch some historical videos. Who knows, maybe there will be something about samurai - something that kendoka, Hiromiya Koichi, would be interested in? You enjoy your time alone, surprisingly moving on from samurai to some other countries' warriors of the past, like the Korean gapsa. Your mind wanders to the various martial arts and ways to combine them. They all certainly have their traditions, but could they be synthesised together into the ULTIMATE one? You'll have to ask Koichi what he thinks of his own dojo's style, its strengths and shortcomings... After a while, you hear the entrance door opening and your sister's voice. \ \ you leave your room to greet her. \ \ \ Some things don't change. Yume has complained about every entrance ceremony she has attended since junior high. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Is this a write in? If so: \"I met a guy in my class who likes swords, feels like a reliable guy, think I'm gonna get along with him. Also checked out some clubs and some girl showed her panties to me, 100% real story, will probably join her club tomorrow.\} |
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| {:Mighty Iudex, please have mercy on me soul. The little ones were starving, I-i-they were going to dispose of the whole crate!\This fine specimen of human dreg was caught stealing from my fine dining establishment. His very unkempt existence had tarnished my reputation by miring my property with his filthy presence! The food crate contained undesirable cuts of Zetif darkwings. Perfectly edible for elves but they are known to poison lesser races like humans, their blood can not handle the acidic nature of this delicacy. Iudex, make an example of this vagrant. I wish not for his kin to loiter around my property.\} |
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| {:development on the next /qst/ update is rumored to begin later this year\} |
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| {:incomplete\the other side of the portal is beyond observation\} |
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| {:You have time to consider it. Perhaps we will be able to find a solution for both of our problems.\Yes...\As for you, I wish to teach you some things before we must venture out to slay the great beast. It is quite clear to me that you have been blessed with a fine gift indeed, good miss.\Me?\Yes Miss. Your natural store of mana is quite large. A wizard must not only train his mind, but also his senses. I can feel it resonating within you, like ripples in a great well. I understand that you were using your control over plants in the forest, yes? I could watch from afar, but I was afraid of approaching you.\I'm sorry, I--,\" Mandevilla brings her head down, a pang of guilt flashes across her face. Vault grins. \"We all have a past. What matters is what shall you make of your future?\" You nod. \"If Vault can teach you to better use your magic, you should allow him to. If we are to fight against a powerful enemy, we all will need to sharpen our skills. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"What will your main focus be during the month of preparation? Seek the spirit of the sacred well, and ask it to lend you it's power for your righteous quest. Delving ruins under the city and fighting the great beast will be dangerous. You will enlist help from the townsfolk. Focus on training with Vault and Mandevilla. You must sharpen your mind, body, and skills. Help Vault petition Lord Tarnestead for assistance. |
| textFocus on training with Vault and Mandevilla. You must sharpen your mind, body, and skills. I think the right move. Ideally with a few weeks of focus we can learn a new spell or two, and also learn how to use a weapon. Instead of petitioning the Lord to send us backup, maybe we just ask for him to send us one of his veteran warriors to tutor us in the use of a spear? In particularly large caverns we may be able to use our bird form, but in tunnels or the corridors of sunken ruins, we will probably need to rely on other means of defending ourselves. Mandy, likewise, would benefit from expanding her repertoire beyond plants into maybe stones or air/wind if it's possible? Welcome back QM! Happy New Year!"} |
| {"text":"Welcome back, OP! Focus on training with Vault and Mandevilla. You must sharpen your mind, body, and skills. No need to petition the lord or townsfolk if martial arts are useless against this creature we're killing, as Vault seems to be insisting. |
| textUh, QM? |
| textChoose race: Velociraptors Loli Vampires Reincarnating Druids Choose Location: Continent Wide Jungle Lovecraftian Megacity Menhirs Of Trial And Error |
| textRolled 36, 54, 16 = 106 (3d100) Spend 1 blood for a +20 to the middle roll. |
| textRolled 74, 57, 19 = 150 (3d100) I am really more leaning for the cripple. Do to wanting more freedom to build up. Yet that would just make it one vote for each thing. I am also unsure of the lore and how they think. So it will matter less if they are out for end no matter what. Rip And Tear Better to not risk the blood until we have back supply I think. With the rolls is it gonna be who ever rolls first or we all just gonna roll after picking something? |
| textOP ? |
| textSad. Civilization quests don't usually last long, but this didn't seem like a civ, really, and had more creative spark. |
| textIt's velociraptor, so obviously velociraptor"} |
| {"text":"This is but one of the legends of which the people speak... Long ago, there existed a kingdom where a golden power lay hidden. It was a prosperous land blessed with green forests, tall mountains, and peace. But one day, a man of great evil found the golden power and took it for himself. With its strength at his command, he spread darkness across the kingdom. But then, when all hope had died, and the hour of doom seemed at hand... ...a young boy clothed in green appeared as if from nowhere. Wielding the blade of evil's bane, he sealed the dark one away and gave the land light. What became of the hero is lost to myth, another mystery of the past casting a long shadow. In one village, it is customary that when children come of age, they make a pilgrimage to the nearby ruins, and bring back an artifact. In doing so, they bring what was left in the dark to the light, and keep their history alive. You are from that village, and today you turn 18, and must make your own pilgrimage. Your father was an archeologist at Hyrule University, and now that it is your day to recover an artifact, you are determined to follow in his footsteps with your diligence. But shadows hang over more than the past, now. A ruthless warlord has rallied an army, and has laid siege to Hyrule castle for nearly a year, seeking to claim the golden power. Darkness gathers across the kingdom, and shadows stretch ever farther each passing day... Welcome to LOZ: Umbral Tower, where you will play an unlikely hero destined to save the kingdom from a neverending shadow. In this game you will roll pools of D6s based on your stats, which will improve over time, against competing pools of D6s, where 5's and 6's are considered successes. Ties normally go to the aggressor, not the defender. I may tweak this as we go. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textParticular characters Iron Knuckles, both as another heavy armored enemy and more specifically the OoT bend with them being Gerudo. There's a lot of enemies I would like to see but I'm making the assumption a lot of them are going to inevitably show up due to the nature of the quest. More on Impa since she's Zuzo's mom would be cool. Old and New Kasuto would be cool and I echo the /qtg/ post about the CD-I games getting an appearance and more work here. Descriptions Good for both setting tone and describing key details. although I wish there were some more visuals for exact layout as personally I struggle to measure where everything is but I understand how verbose and annoying it can be to try to quantify everything spatially. QMing rules Seems you got most things out of the way in this thread. Just keep in mind the 72 hour bump limit so the thread isn't stuck slowly sliding to page 11 when it's still active. Vote options As has been said don't include an option you're not willing to write for. I was honestly very upset at Zuzo getting blinded and imprisoned after the fight with Dead Heart and had to remind myself there was still a chance things could get better (thank goodness they did) but you gave a good rationale for including them in the list. That said I would say that if Zuzo would consider an option bad than it shouldn't appear on the list of options. Mechanics Hard to say because I personally use just a simple percentile d100 B/W/Mo3 in a more narrative quest but this has precedence as a Vidya game. So far it's been working pretty fine but it always stings to see someone get a good roll after someone else. |
| textIron Knuckles You will be pleased! Zuzo will be terrified Also as much as I like Kyokimi I am low-key hoping Zuzo's eventual love interest is a Gerudo woman... if Zuzo would consider an option bad than it shouldn't appear on the list of options. This is a very incisive piece of feedback that I will keep in mind; sometimes I find myself listing options more from the perspective of the omniscient narrator, and if I ground them more thoroughly from Zuzo's instead, I think that will help a lot."} |
| {"text":"That's me^ |
| textI for one am with Skull-Kid. Gerudo chicks are definitely high up there but also if Subrosians show up I'm not going to be upset"} |
| {"text":"Of course, keep in mind that there is almost certainly GOING to be a situation where Zuzo has to choose between bad options, and don't feel afraid to not give us an easy out. Also as much as I like Kyokimi I am low-key hoping Zuzo's eventual love interest is a Gerudo woman... Zuzo as James Bond, international ninja of mystery, seducing information out of the enemy with The Look and nothing else. Subrosians?"} |
| {"text":"“HAHAHA, FOOLISH HEROES, KNEEL BEFORE MY GRAND MAGIC!” Your skeletal body, adorned in robes that have lived longer than any human has breathed, lords over the fallen party of heroes. Your ultimate Origin Magic, though incomplete, has proven more than sufficient to take on the pathetic mortals sent to their knees before its might. Miasma-smoke fills the room, spewed by the necromantic fire left in the wake of your destructive magnum opus. However, to your incredible satisfaction, the Holy Sword itself, the only weapon capable of striking you down, lies corroded beneath the hero’s tattered frame, little more than a sparkly pile of smoldering slag. Yes, your ultimate victory has been achie– Pain unlike any you’d ever imagined stabs through your very being, a thin, needle-like blade jutting out from the cluster of mana animating your undead body, destabilizing it, causing your very being to quiver and weaken. Something is wrong— something is very, very wrong. . You collapse to the floor, your head snapping 180 degrees back to see just who had landed the killing blow. If your eyes could widen, they would: the Hero Michael, who you had thought collapsed in front of you, stands proudly behind you with an unknown blade in your back. “H-how?” “Lich King Atrebor,” the hero declares, his obnoxious condescension shamelessly leaking into his words as he drives the blade even further through your ribs, “you may have been wary of me, the possessor of the Holy Sword, but you paid far too little attention to my real strength: my friends.” You turn your eyes back to the party: an illusion, a paltry trick, dissolves from the worthless entourage of the chosen one, revealing a golem in place of his second in command and that same eternal loser, Reinlock, in his place. “Impossible!” you roar, “I was certain! He– he had the holy sword! He acted just as you would!” Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Attempt to replicate her feat, supplementing your lacking magic with divine energy (requires a roll) Go big or go home! If that fails, we might want to throw some necromancy into it. Detritus-eating fungi are waaaay cooler than flowers in clean vases anyways. It is also a common mad mage theme."} |
| {"text":"What I'm meaning to say is that we can't win this Nerd-off via pure life magic. We need to mix in something unique or something where we're extremely good at (golem creation, artifact creation, divine energy, and/or necromancy) |
| textSimply observe her |
| textPonder how this knowledge might be applied to other fields |
| textSimply observe her Glad you are back Po. I hope you are well. And as says: write a dissertation Although we did not have any strong political ambitions within this current town yet, it would be wise to consider potential effects of this discovery. Hypothetical outcome: Solving food struggles in this harsch winter town. Potentially, this powerful piece of knowledge spreads. Although 'because science' is a perfectly good reason to do this research, its importance does call for some care. We can also try to leverage our discoveries, contain the information or sit back and see what unfolds. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textOnce upon a time, there was a stricken land where there was no such thing as day, nor morning, no sunrise or sunset, but endless dark. It was alone and obscure, on an island surrounded by waters as black as the sky. Yet the wind carried whispers of warmth and light, so the sad peoples of this land, intoxicated by the drink called hope, entreated their king to find the mythical sun and bring it to their lands. The king of the dark vowed to bring the morning to his people, and departed. After five years, while the king did not return, the morning did come, with all of the light and warmth that could be dreamed of. Yet while the people were happy, the new king’s heir, his granddaughter the crown princess, was skeptical of this new light. So, she ventured over the dark waters towards the light, and finally, she found a great tower atop which burned a sun nothing like had been spoken of, nor what seemed to create the new day. There she met her grandfather, and demanded of him the truth. Was there a sun, or no? Were they living in a day that was just night under a mask? Her elder, sad and weary, asked the simple question of if she could tell the difference. What distinguished the False Light from the Dawn? She could not answer, and returned home, keeping the secret to her grave. Yet, friends and followers of Ange, what if the Dawn that comes is false? What if it is so convincing that none of us can tell it true? What if indeed, the facsimile created is the true one after all? -The Heresy of the False Light, Apocryphal Speech said to be performed by Disgraced Socalist and Disciple of Anton Ange, Aster Du Langue |
| textAsk any questions regarding Domensgrepp and its political situation and the history of it? How is the leadership of the Ten Clans determined and how influential are their decisions over their constituents? Longing for the good old days of Empire Getting btfo by a bunch of literally who's 300 years ago with their outer lands steadily assimilated by the new top dog I dunno Federation man, it definitely sounds like Vitelians and the Ljossnauk have plenty in common to seethe about."} |
| {"text":"Attend to other things? See how the 3rd Battalion's ideological education is coming along. it definitely sounds like Vitelians and the Ljossnauk have plenty in common to seethe about. Damn, i just realized it. Will Vitelia ever recover from the relentless abuse? Who knows. |
| textAnons covered most of the questions regarding the politics. I guess I could add a question regarding who the Ljossnauk turn to as their closest \. My guess most of them fancy the chieftians and clan leaders of their own clans, but it will hardly be a Federation representative. I suppose we would be disappointed to ask about any Utopian movements that may be taking root here? You know, I could see Utopianism getting a small fanatic following here. After all, these people were some of the most fervent followers of the Judge in the Holy War. Such zealotry, with the right words and right ears to hear them, could easily turn into Revolutionary fervour. Sure, this is a traditional society, but the promise of bringing forth something greater and traveling abroad into glorious revolutions could sway those who believe Domensgrepp is stuck in their past. Supporting checking up on the ideological education of the Battalion. We gotta turn these bluebloods into redbloods. Damn, i just realized it. Will Vitelia ever recover from the relentless abuse? Who knows. Only through the Revolution can Vitelia be reborn. Believe it Anon. |
| textA cliff notes summary of the factions could be nice. I'm getting Northern Dawn, Southern Dusk (with the Southern's being displaced and potential agitators). Then there are the Half-Hand and the Three Fingers (with the three fingers referring to the affected groups, and potential agitators). And then the clans in general vs the Popelyude. Basically just trying to find out which groups are pro-federation and which are pro-independence would be good at a high level. Feels like Irish vs British and Catholic vs Protestant overlapping lines. Or maybe just the slavic states that all want to break apart post WW2. In character could ask in reference to the chess board (and this guy's plots within plots) which piece our merc company represents and how we will be used. He likely won't share the big picture but we need to know our role to not mess it up (e.g we've been told not to take the initiative which must be to not disrupt the big picture). Also are there any other national or religious holiday's, or anniversaries coming up that might be used by agitators to kick off drama? Other things I'd like to start recruiting but don't want to be in a situation where we've got all these revolutionary minded agitators that then need to go an suppress their own clans etc. Reminds me of the Ellowie units in the DMZ that were more interesting in helping their countrymen, than suppressing them. There is an upcoming civil war in Vitelia, which IIRC loses steam and then the revolutionary army goes into Halmeggia, but isn't too successful over there either (in part due to our favorite Reich paratrooper). That was from the perspective of Richter on the other side of the continent. So the Dawn is a long ways off still. |
| textA spread of filling out the blank spaces where there be dragons. And checking in on how the spirit is cooking. I've just been chilling for today (at least, until work) so I won't be updating until tomorrow. |
| textSo, a bit of clarification. Doom STOLE Dormammu's powers, completely ripped his magic from him. He's not possessed or controlled by Dormammu. So is Doom with Dormammu's stolen powers as dangerous as Dormammu or more? I find this opponent to be very enigmatic in terms of how much of a challenge he will be. Then again stealing Dormammu’s power in itself is impressive. Do you think that after tournament Chilli and Doom will start to hang out since they are both very smart when it comes to magic? Two hundred fifty... That's a really big number. I remember I really liked one Quest on /tg/. I still hope it is not over since there were so many things to do. There was an entire adventure ahead. I hope it will continue (pic related). There is only one problem with this. The last time QM of that quest posted was 12 years ago. I’m starting to think that maybe there will be no come back. My point with this is that it is really awesome that your quest is still going strong. You never ghosted us. I really appreciate this. Thank for all the fun that Saiyan Conqueror brings. I'm curious as to whether or not Hulk is the only Berserker capable of such rapid regeneration. What if in order to unlock it one needs to lose it’s sanity and become consumed by Berserker Soul? Perhaps there is big price for it? Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"More dangerous. As Dormammu is limited in what it can imagine, whereas Doom is creative. spoiler We'll see. Would take a little work for them to be okay with one another, Doom KILLED HIM after all. /tg/ quest I still remember Hydra quest, was fun as hell. Glad you've enjoyed the ride so far, I just hope it continuea being fun. Perhaps. Very unsettling, and glad you've enjoyed it. Do you mean by this that he fights Doom to the death or that Chilli fights to remain Chilli and to not turn permanently into pure avatar of Death? Well, he did already fight Doom to the death and lost, so... |
| textDoom KILLED HIM after all. Pic. |
| textSOON! HA! Nice |
| textIt's time:"} |
| {"text":"You were just a regular peasant woman in a small village in the frontier. One night, you were snatched out of your bed, gagged and dragged into a cave. You thought some horrible monster was going to eat you, but instead a group of figures wearing black robes put you in the center of magic circle and chanted. You felt hypnotized and soon realized that they had done something to your mind. You woke up outside the village the next day and walked home. In your mind you knew that you gained the power to cast some dangerous dark magic! You can hear voices inside your head telling you to do things, horrible unspeakable deed..."} |
| {"text":"You go back to sleep, and you sleep surprisingly well despite the scrapping sound. In the morning, there are only piles of bones outside your door. Seems like the magic of the temple animates undead at night! What will you do with this knowledge? Go forage and be sure to be locked in at night Abandon this cursed place Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Get a few bones, perhaps just a skull, and see if they will animate inside your room tonight A talking skull buddy would be pretty nice, maybe even someone we could learn from"} |
| {"text":"Go forage and be sure to be locked in at night"} |
| {"text":"You go out to forage but make sure to return before dark. You then rummage through the bones until you find an unblemished skull. You bring it with you into the room with the beds and leave it on top of one of them. After a few hours you hear a loud scream. \"I'm alive! I'm alive again! Where... where is my body? Oh no! I'm still dead...\What are you?\} |
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| {:Degrees of success\AMERICAN REVOLUTION\ANTI-TERROR AND SECURITY ACT OF 2000\} |
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| {:Fish don't see water\" meme when talking about English cuisine. It's everywhere and it's the default."} |
| {"text":"Then why arent they eating the good food?"} |
| {"text":"Don't be a pussy OP. I demand to be entertained. |
| textIndeed, Give me an update or give me death! |
| textTotemists, one of the first lines of defense against the malicious and monstrous, famed slayers of Behemoths which are perhaps the most dangerous examples of such, and bridge to the domains of spirits and magic unseen. The role is not an easy one of course, but it must be done and has been since time before almost all written history. You are Capran, young man of the Four Peaks mountains, pupil of Oranya Skystrike. There has been a lot of unrest on the mountain slopes lately, the issue growing further with each day it seems, but with your teacher still guiding you, there will always be a way to deal with it the trouble. Such as this post mimic, which stands on thin wood-splinter-like legs and angrily spears them into the ground beneath it at the failure of its ambush. You stand nearby your teacher and her friend Heyra, ready and willing to destroy this mimic. Awful thing. You're rather happy you three are the one who found it rather than some poor patrol guard or villager. Cont"} |
| {"text":"(sorry for the update and dip, but it's late here and I work a full day tomorrow.) |
| textFollow at Ghesha's pace. Keep a level head and don't attract attention. |
| textFollow at Ghesha's pace. Keep a level head and don't attract attention. gotta wait for Ekasta to start something |
| textNot dead but this little fucker decided my fingers needed to be torn into. Doesn't look like it'll need stitches but I can barely type. |
| textHere is hoping it doesn't get infected or anything."} |
| {"text":"Use your knowledge of Cartoons to steal the F-16. What will you do after you've stolen it? |
| textIdiot What if it stops raining? Then you fall out of the sky |
| textYou take the F-16 for a joyride. But sirens blare, and an AA gun shoots you down. The world turns black… until a sliver of light breaks through the darkness. Tearing your eyelids open, you find yourself inside the cockpit of an F-16C Fighting Falcon. Somehow, it carries infinite bullets, 70 missiles, 16 4AAMs, and 5 flares. “Da fuck?” you mutter. Peering out through the canopy, a deep blue sky stretches above you. Below, a shimmering ocean rushes past, dotted with scenic isles. Your confusion deepens. Then, an oddly familiar voice crackles through the radio: “Glad to have you back with us, Mobius 1. This is AWACS SkyEye. I’ll be, once again, serving as your eyes and ears for this mission.” Mobius 1? SkyEye? Aren’t those names from the popular 2001 fighter jet video game Ace Combat 04: Shattered Skies, published by Namco for the PlayStation 2? How strangely specific! You remember playing it once on an emulator a couple of years ago. Could it have left such a strong impression that you’re now hallucinating about it, while your real body is presumably tumbling toward Earth inside a burning aircraft? But the feeling of the flight-stick in your grip, the low hum of the engine in your ears, and the warm sun glaring down on your bald scalp all feel too real. Can this be real? Or could this be... Stangereal! Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textStrafe an Arabian wedding, or an elementary school, whichever one you find first. |
| textI like this once, I haven't been posting cuz most of these ideas make no sense even by cartoon standards"} |
| {"text":"I am OP, my IP reset"} |
| {"text":"Pick Race Orc Goblin Troll Bugbear Cyclopes Pick Location Mountains Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Warlord"} |
| {"text":"The lack of food worries you, the shamans say we'll break apart if it runs out. You have a stockpile of bones to keep fed for a while. Your 3 shamans have grown into the tree allowing them to be closer to the forest. Korg ponders over his options. Tribe Action Expand the hunting grounds around your home. Mass a hunting party with your warriors and stockpile more food. Migrate to an area with more food. Scout find out what is causing the lack of food. |
| textScout find out what is causing the lack of food. |
| textScout find out what is causing the lack of food. |
| textScout find out what is causing the lack of food. |
| textPlanet Dump25... Widely known as one of the worst planets in the galaxy, but not as bad as Dump26. The sickly glow of a diseased star irradiates this misbegotten place daily, providing a feeble facsimile of sunlight to the two and a half species of MISERABLE FUCK that live there. the ELLY is a photosynthetic creature that uses its big veiny EARS to gather SUNLIGHT the PHANT is a CARNIVORE, it EATS the ELLY the BUTTLEECH is a FREELOADER, it SUCKS poop from the PHANT's butt Perhaps in time, these genetic rejects will give rise to a thriving ecosystem... But probably not Rules: 1. Find a creature suffering from environmental pressures 2. Copy it into MS Paint (or any other anti-aliased drawing program, if you're fancy like that) 3. Add a feature to the creature that will make it better at not dying 4. Reply to the post that had the old creature with your new, improved creature (and describe how it's different) It's that easy! And they told me you needed a degree to be an evolutionary biologist... |
| textYup. They fly now. |
| textHere is an evo that does not require a picture, more of a social evolution. So you know how chimps do social grooming, picking each other clean of the various bugs and parasites that live in their fur? Well, the Gnorsh starts to develop something like that. Herds of Gnorsh will practice social grooming by way of brown-nosing each other. But this ain't because they have a fart fetish, it's to help remove buttleeches from their herdmate's body. Fewer leeches, the fewer nutrients get lost to b the parasites. Nasty? Absolutely. But Nature is a practical sort not concerned with little things like propriety or decency."} |
| {"text":"The inflated buttleech's neck grows longer so that while they may float atop the polluted waters of Dump25, they may still suck down delicious sludge. |
| textthe advent of grooming creates strong \ bonding among genetically close members of the species, grooming offers next to no dirrect benefit to the individual this \ benefits there genetics to spread in the population with frontal bottom \ with a narrow channel between the teeth allowing for vedging protrusions to pull and slightly motile flat gripper teeth that all around makes grooming easier |
| textlonger mouth increases reach and killing power to snatch up prey along with just some skin secretions to lower that chance of parasites |
| textMonday Grid Sector 11873, Defensive Position \ The Bradley 1A5 kept firing with it's auto-cannon at the incoming target. One of it's tracks, the left one, was damaged. The rack of guided missiles had been emptied days ago and there hadn't been the chance to refill them. Quartermaster \"Godmother\" was inside the basement of a ruined house, missing it's second floor and portions of the first. The structure of plywood would provide minimal protection or cover, which was why he was underground. Beside him was Jack Price, the Engineer from MARS Incorporated, now a Lieutenant in what remained of the Armed Forces. Finally, if he was still alive, was Capt. Harry Grand from the Air Force. - - In the basement was a Javelin guided missile, loaded, but with no available reloads. There was also MARS MPAR, a laser guided upgrade of the FGM-172A SRAW project. That system and a single reload were bundled together. Both would require firing from outside or the precarious top floor. The other explosive options were the drum fed, six shot 40mm Milkor MGL.... OR three disposable AT-4ERs. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textRolled 3 (1d6) |
| textI just barely understand what this means. ) The Bradley IFV angles it's turret and opens fire with a string of 25mm autocannon explosive rounds at the incoming fast moving vehicles, but they seemed to have limited effect, managing to not land that many or zero round nearby the fast moving vehicles."} |
| {"text":"Rolled 3 + 5 (1d20 + 5) [Spoiler] Many thanks, and an astute analysis of the weapon. [/Spoiler] \"Red\" readies and fires the 40mm into the approaching smoke. Her laser get remains mounted on the window frame. (Rolling 40mm) !"} |
| {"text":"damn caps.."} |
| {"text":"According to GM... \"Red\" connects with the corner of a vehicle, not even the one she was aiming for, blowing out a tire and damaging a small chunk of it."} |
| {"text":"in a meaningless world, a girl finds heaven in scarlet mist"} |
| {"text":"Rolled 69 (1d100) Thoughts drift and find root in Hermione's mind. A dandelion sprouts. She remembers having to read those Arthurian Romances in French. Aurelia would stay up late reading them. Hermione would write commentary in the books, switch their covers, and randomly put them on the shelves. She despises the poet Chrétien for starting it and the city he came from. But magic does exist. Could there be a kernel of truth? Was there a lady of the lake? A grail, a sword cast into water, or a wise king's signet ring? Surely they would be immune to the ravages of time. Surely they deserve a proper owner. Surely her. The weasel might know the truth. INT: Could a Wish gather the relics and turn them into guns?"} |
| {"text":"megakino mega mega kino actually this is now a fate quest (lmao) (:P)"} |
| {"text":"this is now a fate quest (lmao) (:P) gacha hell"} |
| {"text":"archive time?"} |
| {"text":"We're still on Page 8 so there's no rush... that said if we archive now the archived thread will update with all subsequent posts. I can handle it later on today just to make it easy. Missing my #wolfpack, guys 0w0;"} |
| {"text":"Howdy everyone this quest is inspired by Tower Dungeon, Dark Souls and gritty fantasy. With a rather flexible take on the Basic roleplaying Universal Game Engine is the basis for characters, skills and combat. _ One Hundred years have passed since the last Vexana Cosmesis influxia - The alignment of stars necessary for the correct partitions of the many seen and unseen angles of reality, allowing the beyond to grasp the physical once more. Since that moment every hour, minute and second has been counted as Kingdoms heed the awaited dirge. For the First City has returned to the world for just ten years until it is swallowed back by the accursed void, bringing with it relics of the past and horrors of a prophesied future. Dancing along the manic death spiral of time with little reason. Within the fabled Bed of Incongruity promises immense power and eternal life for all that sunder their way to the hidden cavity. Countless named and forgotten treasures of equal might and greater also await those mad enough to brave the damned metropolis. The First City lies within once blessed lands, yet the centuries of isolation and exposure to distant dimensions has taken its toll, scattering the returning landscape with foreign contaminants, alien threats and unnatural constructs. The City's interior itself is a celestial hovel of unnatural geometry as reality bleeds away at the very point where the veil between the many planes awaits, existence is only a second thought here. Many such explorers claim to have witnessed their compatriots simply uncoiling from reality and ascending to the heavens without warning. The stars have aligned and the way is known, through the hazy miasma the Insane, Brave and Desperate rush like a tide of crashing waves against its walls. |
| textInquisitive: \ Beastman Knight |
| textSupporting. Sadly we are fucking dumb as rocks, which is probably why we came here in the first place |
| textInquisitive: Robber Prince |
| textInquisitive Beastman Knight |
| textInquisitive Beastman Knight |
| textWelcome to CBF, a game set in the cyberpunk future of Charleston, SC, using the horror/urban fantasy world of Changeling: The Lost (and most of the rest of World of Darkness) as it's larger backdrop. You will be a Changeling, someone that was taken by the True Fae to an alien realm, Arcadia, across the hedge between reality and dreams. They left a Fetch behind in your place, a simulacrum that took your place among your friends and family, making your disappearance unnoticeable. While in captivity, you were traumatized, and forcibly transformed into a creature, or perhaps a decoration, or tool. You've since escaped, back to the real world, back to Charleston, SC, now, in the year 2198. You command certain supernatural abilities by making contracts and pacts with the forces of nature and reality, and can also make magically binding bargains with other Changelings and mortals. To non-fae creatures, you are by all appearances a human, maybe quite similar to your original self, but possibly older, younger, scarred, or with certain traits having since been altered - time passes in strange ways within Arcadia, and the marks left by the True Fae vary in their subtlety. Other Changelings, fae creatures, and certain other supernatural beings, however, can see past the Mask of concealing faerie magic, and view your true self - be that a musclebound troll, or an automaton cobbled together from wax and copper in your own former image. Megacorporations and stranger monsters than yourself pull the strings of society in these neon nights, and you will struggle with maintaining your humanity, and sanity, while navigating the maddening world of the fae, and the soul-crushing dystopia that's been produced by generations of greedy, sociopathic humans. You escaped from the creature that abducted you some ten years ago, and have survived in that time by honing your skills and picking your battles."} |
| {"text":"Annnnnnnnnd finally If you were keeping up with this quest (thanks again!!!!) but don't keep up with /qtg/ (I can see why, some of the guys in there are very strange), these are some ideas I have for a different quest since I am putting this on the back burner for a while. Please consider weighing in on what I write next! |
| textShame but at yeah LOZ should be fun and judging by the first thread more popular |
| textSorry I should have not kept lurking really loved it and will now go to catch up again |
| textIt's ok buddy, Percy will be back! Check out After-Bloom if you liked this quest, there are some common threads and I think you'd enjoy it! |
| textThe president put on the ceremonial gowns, now knowing the terrible conventions of society. A forbidden fruit, offered to her by subordinates and friends, that which they all deemed an essential part of youth; the what to say, the what not to say; the great secrets of seduction; the three gazes of the man-eating leopard; “The height of skirt that melts the inexperienced virgin”. And she endured it all, like a woman. She endured to have them play with her, as if a rag or some mauled doll; only by the time they began to imply that the size of a bag was perspectively proportional to the osseous width of her body, she had already ran out of patience. And with the skirt, and the blouse, the inconspicuous accessory and the invincible bow of black hair, victory was served with imminence, and tremendous prematurity. As the lead of the Paranormal Investigation Club, she was in labour of solving mysteries in the company of her most trusted. Who hasn’t heard yet about the rapist of human souls, the phantom on the staircase, or the not single instance when the devil went and took the farmer's cows for a dance? After that, and many other adventures together; seemingly united, in their hearts she earned a deep place with her pure merit. And this time it was their turn to prepare her with the ubiquitous knowledge, to face the unknown, and perhaps even… to scare her fears. Trembled the world when the day came, Surely, long had spilled been the tea; and yet, in shame, a single drop lied and dared not to be spit. She, and she alone knew; thoughtless, truly thoughtless the compromise had been conceived. Upon their first and only conversation she was met with a sudden and unknown boiling emotion. She couldn't admit; the temptation was too much to bear. From the pure desire to partake in that which impossible is, agreed they to meet the next Sunday, despite knowing her she lived in the neighboring city. And even then, prepared and committed, without respect for distance, without fear, she departed on the afternoon, towards a station lost in time, lost from reason, all so she could ever meet with him... the next morning. - The Hairy Hand is a quest ruled by contradiction of wills and whims The President has towards all gruesome realities awaiting. Survival is doubtful, and physical integrity is never assured; bad decisions are ultimate. Players can cumulatively pick a maximum of 3 choices, once 3 different courses of action are picked, no alternatives can be proposed nor votes. Actions are taken upon popular vote, effected at irregular, arbitrary and unforgiving times. Small and menial actions may be taken by individuals at times; affecting or not the outcome of an encounter. The whims of a few may just suffice to change The President's fate."} |
| {"text":"Keep a steady pace- not by arriving earlier will you meet him any faster. [Continue thought + Earn an Skill] There's no reason to not choose this |
| textKeep a steady pace- not by arriving earlier will you meet him any faster. [Continue thought + Earn an Skill] |
| textOh, its not archived yet, guess we better continue. |
| textIt would be nice, I was expecting at least for one bad thing to happen to her. |
| textDecide not to go. |
| textYou are Gamma the Lich. Your phylactery was found by an elf mage and shattered, but you had a last resort kind of deal you prepared with one of your servants, a wicked druid called Sima, where upon your phylactery being broken your soul would escaped and instantly be reincarnated on someone random somewhere. A few years of unconsciousness passed in a flash, and lo and behold, you're a teenage girl in some backwards village. Seems like you're being gangraped by orcs. Oh well, so that was the traumatic event that would awaken you the druid spoke about. You consume the fraying soul of your host and regain a sliver of your magical powers. You'll make sure to use them wisely. There is still the small issue that a bunch of orcs are raping you though... You got enough magic to cast 10 levels of spells. You do know some wicked epic level spells you could cast, but honestly, seems like an overkill. You basically know every single necromantic spell ever, even some no one else knows. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"That was close for the other nasty ones. Gather food - so they don't starve Every choice has a negative and a positive. But I think feeding them something other than the gruel before will boost morale a lot and allow them to have clearer thoughts. Even better if we can get some bait for rodents. It will make the Gathering them easier. |
| textThe girls gather a bunch of blueberries, fruits, mushrooms, even some fat grubs and rabbits, then every night before sleeping we build a small fire to roast whatever is roastable, and partake of a hearty meal. You hear some weird things in the night, but you laught it off. You are the thing even other monsters fear when the sun goes down. On the third day, you see a village in the distance, a small settlement, maybe a thousand people. They have some farms, you can see the smoke of a forge, so they probably mine in the nearby caves, but little else. They have some spearmen patrolling the perimeter. You have about 150 SOUL POWER left. Approach the village, say you've escaped a bunch of orcs Destroy the spearmen and claim the village as your domain Hide in the caves and kidnap a couple miners to learn more about the village Hide in the caves, but send a couple girls saying they escaped orcs to gather information Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"New place and unknown culture to us, with to few to really make a good attempt to claim much of anything. Hide in the caves, but send a couple girls saying they escaped orcs to gather information The forest allows for freedom, but risk to the orcs and unknowns. I say move to the caves and with luck the orcs hit the town and we just have to deal with a random animal in the cave."} |
| {"text":"Pondering that you have no way to know how this strange culture will react to you, you decide to hide in the caves. But you send a couple girls, instructing them to say they escaped form the orcs, to gather intelligence. Within, you find a Bear. Your baby is hungry and wants to eat it. Kill and eat the bear Shoo the bear away Kill the bear and raise him as undead Write in After a couple days, one of them shows up at the caves. \"The villagers have had problems with the orcs before and welcomed us well. The people here are very trusting. They are part of a kingdom called Merryland. They expected us to find roles within the village very quickly. We've been helping with cooking and today I volunteered to bring food to the miners, then I slipped by here to tell you about it.\} |
| {:} |
| {:} |
| {:Talk to him.\What should I say?\What do you think?\Flaming troll in the sky! How come you don't die in the fire?\" Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Rolled 6, 41, 64, 87, 21, 6, 9, 35, 44, 10, 24, 96 = 443 (12d100) The tribe always needs food. Steal more food from the humans. I assume this is like an attack so rolling"} |
| {"text":"eh, if you go through with it you don't land a single blow with this roll. I will wait at least for more rolls. |
| textWell, I waited enough, no one rolled. Should I go with your roll anyway, or do you want to roll again? |
| textRolled 95, 26, 33, 32, 15, 19, 80, 73, 77, 6, 100, 19 = 575 (12d100) Let's add more dice to the pot."} |
| {"text":"\"JESUS FUCK.\" A bit of spit leaves the girl's mouth with the utterance of the expletive. The thin blonde man shoots an annoyed look at his coworker as he leans on his broom, watching her wipe the spit from her chin. \ The brunette gives him an indifferent glance, grabs a dustpan, and starts sweeping in various things: rose petals, scrapped, badly framed photos, a dust of cocaine that had slipped from some celebrity's torn pocket. She scoffs at the discovery of a used condom leaking all over the concrete. \"Just saying. You'd think that at a big event like this, people would be a bit more dignified.\} |
| {:} |
| {:} |
| {:quests\Hoe\} |
| {:} |
| {:} |
| {:The players voted to roll out something quick so this thing isn't going to happen.\" If the players voted for the quick refits towards the end I'd just skip the dice rolls for complications because the refit was proven. Was there a route where we could have encouraged House Shimada to declare independence from the Empire? The short answer is no. The long answer is that I briefly considered giving you the opportunity when the Pact conquered Shima but decided against it since I was in a hurry to finish the quest and didn't want to meander along yet another sub-plot. Shirin Shimada was heavily invested in keeping Shima as her fief and while there might have been an angle you could have worked to turn her against the Empire the Pact characters remained unaware of it. Sequel when? I have no plans to run anything in the near future especially with my current RL situation. Space shipyard quest was never meant to be more than a one shot, but the brain worm kept returning so now it's become this weird story where the perspective shifts every thread. Even then I endeavor to make each thread stand on its own so there's still a sense of closure should I never run again."} |
| {"text":"have we considered getting some fabricators and ship of our own and constructing self replicating robot swarms for resources?"} |
| {"text":"Glasner's a genius but he's not that smart."} |
| {"text":"also our faction's anti-AI culture would probably preclude making robots independent enough to self-replicate |
| textUncomfortable proximity aside, you can see that her concern is genuine, plus her strength can be of use. But why? \ She thumps her chest, possibly an indication of indignance. \ Ah, a friend of Craig's parents, then. You motion for her to follow you inside the abandoned tower. A floor later, and you're kind of impressed at the variety and amount of traps there were in the first floor. That should suffice for small talk. \ Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| text□ Follow the others and run Better to follow their advice |
| text□ Follow the others and run Probably. |
| textRun |
| text□ Follow the others and run This would be an inopportune time to be sent back to Nowhere, what with the mission and all. |
| textAbigail thinks back to the conversation Miss Walsh had with her partner on the phone. Considering the timing of the rescheduled meeting… “We’re going to meet her. In front of the CNC.” She surmises. Oliver raises his eyebrows. “How can you be so sure about that? Maybe she was called by the Headmaster or some other staff member to fill her in on her duties since she’s new?” “Oliver, if I’m right then I’ll g-give- ahem.” Why is this still so hard? Abigail puts on her best teasing voice and tries again. “If I’m right then I’ll get a free pass to make you pose for a portrait in any way I want. If you’re right then you can ask me for… let’s say anything?” “Deal.” Oliver accepts as fast as possible. “Alright, let’s go lovebirds!” Alba shouts before storming into the crowd, beelining straight for the school exist and practically barrelling students out of the way all the while. The rest of the group quickly chase after her, both to exploit the opening and protect her from any students wanting to “Enforce the Rules” before they leave. Alba is still ahead of them the whole time despite carrying a box that’s larger and heavier than herself. How much does this girl exercise? Where does she hide the muscle?. “I’m guessing this is why you left a little girl to carry the box instead of doing it yourself, Oliver? Is this how you’re going to treat me in this relationship?” Abigail playfully teases as they walk out the school. Oliver raises his hand to his heart in faux offence. “My word, there’s no way I could let my lady sully her hands with such rough work! Especially when your hands are already dirty enough from all the painting you do.” Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textBuy now I came here to buy underwear due to a pressing need for it, and now I get a discount! Would be pretty dumb of me to NOT get the new underwear, right? And then… I’ll head home. I’m probably like, sweaty and shit? Fuck my lungs hurt. Oh God are lungs meant to hurt? |
| textThe Jelly could stretch, of course. It could also change its form to a hard solid, a viscous jelly, and a liquid while still retaining full control of its body. Emilly has become gelatinous cube, eater of worlds. Those snacks though. Not very pleasant, sugar on sugar, rock candy and jelly, sure they texture was different, but the flavor being pure chem sugar. Not even natural flavoring. She looks at Marisa. \ She remembers her arm, one that's still lying on the floor. \"Well, not in any way that matters... actually, belay that bread.\" She approaches the fallen limb, it's not a large piece of meat by any means, but unlike her regular state, being transformed actually means there's something on that bone. The cut wasn't too clean, probably expected with a spear. Blood has pooled around it, though not that much. Emilly picks the errant limb up. The flavor profile will certainly be distinct from her previous meal, and while there may be a small texture overlap, definitely enough to prevent it form being a perfect compliment, it is good enough. After all, waste not, want not. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textEmilly stretches. \ She thinks for a moment, before reminding herself and pulling at a frilly sleeve. \ |
| text\ A Grief Seed, all that remains of a fallen Magical Girl; her Soul Gem, in particular. Interesting terminology. A Gem overfilled with Grief spawns a Witch who, when killed, leaves behind this Seed...? The terms used made the sequence sound perfectly natural, like a fruit ripening and, eventually, bursting. Who even came up with this tripe? She'd have to ask Megan about this later. Stephanie, after all, was not a literary type and was like misinterpret such things. Little shame in knowing one's limitations. Check Soul Gem. How are we doing, at a glance? Still, far from the harrowing reveal in the forest, Stephanie couldn't help but feel as though, even on the eve of battle, things were looking up. Life wasn't easy—and that was something Stephanie knew before finding out she was dead and would have to fight monsters—, so there were many, many ways for a Magical Girl to fall to despair and wreak yet more of it as a Witch. Stephanie, though, felt quite lucky, both in terms of the wish she made and her current circumstances. Thinking back to it now, if she'd wished for something like, say, infinite money or the power to get back at those who wronged her, such things would be of little help in the long-term battle against encroaching despair or, worse, harm more than help. But with family and friends (and, last but in no way least, a cat and a dog), she couldn't help but feel like she lucked into having a breakwater of sorts. Along with the fact that she wasn't doing this alone, Stephanie was quite positive in not seeing herself falling like the (former) Magical Girl whose Soul-Gem-turned-Grief-Seed she was idly spinning like a top on the table. Always look on the bright side of life (Mind, 14). While waiting for the others to show, a sudden incongruity assailed Stephanie. She glanced at the Seed, then at Kanata. \"Say, Miss Kanata...said you weren't all that when it came t' actually killing Witches, eh? And here you 'ave this Grief Seed. So tell me, when'll Miss Walsh be joining us?\""} |
| {"text":"ANTON PEAS: that’s your name, don’t wear it out! Originally a mild-mannered grilljockey, a botched demonic summoning brought you to ZORAL: a fantasy world shrouded in perpetual darkness! You get used to it! The memory loss and everyone trying to kill you? That’s the tricky part. See, your unexpected trip landed you in one Hell of a mess: not only did you lose a huge chunk of your memories, but you also forfeit your soul to RED--you don’t know the specifics, but essentially your summoning granted you some DEMONIC POWERS, so it’s not all bad! What IS bad is what you’re up to now: your hellish helper can restore your memories, but he won’t do it for free! The price: delivering the heads of THE FOUR LORDS OF ZORAL: tyrants and titans that rule the darklands with iron fists, claws, and… you dunno, tentacles, maybe? There’s a reason they’ve ruled for so long, however, and despite your platoon of pals and plentiful powers you can’t help but feel a little apprehensive about the whole thing! Exhibit A: ARCHMAGE TRIER. Arriving in UMBERAL: Zoral’s very own city of tomorrow, you were swiftly introduced to the TEKSOULS: menacing magitek that follow every whim Trier can think up… and you met the guy–he thinks a LOT! Not to be outdone, you also ran into THE SPICE CARTEL--not only is Umberal their home turf, they’re also running some kind of deal with the Archmage… as for what it is, well, you shudder to think! Your search for leverage over the Archmage took you to TRIMBAULT ACADEMY: Zoral’s most prestigious magical academy, and whole you managed to snag some goodies and teach a surprisingly-decent class (don’t ask), you didn’t manage to find notes other mages took on their Archmage adversary! Even worse, all signs point to The Cartel snatching them up for their own perfidious plots! Luckily you had an in: TZAH-TZIE, skilled songstress and your current beau, has an axe to grind with her musical rival LUTZA. Having saved the starlet from a kidnapping on the Umberal Skyrail, you earned your way into holding a concert in Umberal, and some of the biggest names in The Cartel just happen to be huge fans! Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Yet you managed to save her sisters too--and believe me, they could've had a much worse ending! |
| textYou'll have to forgive me if I don't think that's much of a recompense for best girl getting nocon'd. |
| textWhat was your favorite part of Thread 7? Rezalith's arc. What could be improved in the future? More Volka! Who/what do you wanna see more of in the next thread? MORE VOLKA! What do you think will happen next?! Terror time with Trier, no doubt. Then... Well, Crossroads may be in jeopardy, it sounds like. Who's your fave character and why? Probably still Rezalith. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textFav part Vhale fight and Sixface's doppelganger gambit kicked ass Who do you want more of Volka What next We are gonna kick ass B^) What do Rolo and Sixface look like? I imagine Rolo as a mix between a Walrus and one of those Tegu lizards but he stands upright. I imagine Sixface as a mix between a house centipede, a regular centipede, and a Jackson's Chameleon, which limbs that are segmented like a chameleon, and shapeshifts by rapidly molting the current skin to take on the new shape underneath, whereupon the shed skin evaporates quickly into fine dust. |
| textWhat was your favorite part of Thread 7? Killing Vhale. A second close one was seeing Rezzie being cute and growing to be a better person. What could be improved in the future? Nothing I can think of, outside of more Volka, which ties into the third question so I'm skipping that. What do you think will happen next?! Murdering Trier to death, murder style. We are tasked with killing the various lords and he was just a useful stepping stone. Who's your fave character and why? TT. I love me the cattethinge. Rezzie is a close second. LEAST fave character In terms of people I hate? Vhale/his dad, but they were meant to be hated. In terms of actual characters? Oti. I never cared for his deadpan whiny shtick, but I don't dislike him enough to outright hate him. WHAT DO YOU THINK TRIER LOOKS LIKE? AM, from I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream, but instead of computery bits as we would understand it, he's a giant pillar of magic crystals and gems and rocks. Whenever he speaks I like to imagine you can hear rocks cracking or frying from the strain of his might. SIXFACE Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| text“Honestly, I could name a thousand reasons: I don’t like Prometheus, and I don’t trust him to mold me like a piece of clay. I’m not you, and I don’t want to be— hell, I don’t think I’d even deserve to be.” “You wouldn’t-” “There’s only one person in the world I’d want to trust my soul with,” you interrupt, “And it isn’t your dead boyfriend. I have things I worked hard for that I want to keep, people who I really want to stay dead, and I owe a debt of gratitude to the Architect for giving me this opportunity in the first place. I like power, I like having more than other people, but, more than anything… I want to be free, and I want to be myself. If that means I don’t get to be happy, then, fuck it, who even needs to be? I have a more powerful impetus.” You spread your arms wide, the fake soul of the fake you conjured by the Grand Art creaking and chipping beneath the pressure exerted by your real might, crimson light pouring through the breaks like water from the cracks in a porcelain vase. Arms painfully burst from your back, skin tearing and blood pouring out from the ruins of your tattered sweater. The limbs flex their freshly minted muscle, caressing the soft, tender pink skin, newborn, almost infantile despite their long, sinister build, You topple forward for a moment the weight cracking your spine under its crushing weight until your body reorganizes itself, reinforcing and regenerating shattered bone and torn sinew with metal and divinity, your skeleton shivering and popping as your new anatomy settles into place. “...I see. Well, it was a free choice, a true choice, so a number of possibilities exist. I guess this just happens to be one where things turned out wrong.” “You’re too vertical, both of you,” you sneer, “Your world is dead. The man who killed himself was someone you never knew, and he died for someone he never met. As far as I’m concerned, all of those “what if”s are only as real as any other predictive model. A glorified simulation, really. Well, if it’s any consolation, I believe your wish to have been granted before you ever made it: you have never been me, and you never will be.” The other you remains silent, but you press on, the constructed world tearing away as your Impetus overrides the Grand Art, its caster no longer present to protect it from your will. Your body lifts into the air, scarlet fetters burst from your fingertips, slowly taking the qualities of the Sunset, first hard to notice, vermillion and magenta, then, less subtle, gold, lilac, blue, white, black. The chains bind to the fabric of the incomplete reality itself, each wild movement of your arms tearing out another piece. |
| textFirstly, thank you all for the well wishes. I really am grateful for not only the fact that you stayed to read, but that all of you contributed with incredible write-ins and speculation. Again, I really couldn't have done it without you. I've decided I might as well throw out some bonus scenes since you guys seem to have wanted a few. I'll release one now, and probably post the next in a couple days. Before that, though, to answer 's question: Yeah, I did have a decent chunk of stuff planned for various side characters in case they came up more often. I had whole potential arcs etched out for subordinates like Lethe or Brigita, other world powers like Yama or Hades, and even, indeed, for cannon fodder like Epimetheus or the Boar. Of course, I didn't have a TON planned for the former specifically, since I was really sure you guys were gonna kill him, but Dorota did inherit (a modified version of) his powers which also may have come up if you spent more time with her. Anyway, here's that exit interview asked for: |
| textExit interview: Jane On the night of the apotheosis, the eclipseless blood moon, the world around you seems bright enough to be lit by day. Of course, the light ought to be crimson, but somehow, here in this little stretch of the world, red filters into gold, which melts into the grey of the clouds and thick vapor hugging the dirt and grass. “Where… am I?” You and the hind stand alone in the misty nowhere, a crossroads deep into the wilderness of the Pacific Northwest. Your presence is vague but all-encompassing, a faint crimson hue and a tinge of iron in the thick fog belie the presence of something less than— or, more accurately, more than mortal. Your control over your vessel and your presence is still ambiguous, your body still becoming accustomed to godhood. Sparks and wisps of tangerine fire burn silently and smokelessly beneath Jane’s feet, their light seeming not to bother her, or even draw her attention, as she is forged from the echoes of her former self, her existence transplanted from a moment past to a moment present. You open your mouth, but close it again— as you are now, your voice alone would almost certainly kill her. You are at the crossroads, my dear. you soundlessly reply, keeping your form obscured in the mist as the temporary anchor writhes and crackles beneath the magnitude of your soul, vermilion light exploding out of your eyes and through fractures in your skin. You temper that divine might, sending it to fuel the flames, but even then a haunting incandescence is visible in your eyes. Surely you remember your own death. Your betrayal. I have taken that supernatural misery from your body, but I can only imagine the extent of the shock and melancholy. Indeed, this Jane is not the person you had spoken to in your soul. Even if you shielded her somewhat, she had become inexorably dyed in your colors, slowly becoming incorporated into the endless sanguine sea. It wasn't truly her, not really, so you had decided instead to bring her back as she was when she died. “Wow, I don't… know what to say. Who are you, if you don't mind my asking? Or, um, is that impolite for, uh, whatever it is you are..?”"} |
| {"text":"I have a lot of names. Most all of them would be meaningless to you. Well, it doesn't really matter anymore. you breathlessly sigh, dropping the divine majesty angle and returning to your more usual manner of speaking, Ultimately, your revival is just another aspect of my selfish desire. So, I wanted to give you a choice: I could either revive you as you were, as you died, or I can wipe your slate clean. No memories, no trauma, and a brand new life with brand new people. So, Jane, what will it be? She pauses, her form melting from hart to human, her unflattering, baggy clothes returning to her as her hide shifts into flesh. “I think I’ll go this way,” she smiles, pointing off into the distance. You’ve been dead for a long time. Reintegrating in that environment is gonna be difficult. “I didn't know too many people anyway.” The things you were running away from, using me, are going to still be there when you get back. “Then… maybe you could stay with me?” She replies, seemingly entirely unsurprised at your reveal. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"nice"} |
| {"text":"a good end point"} |
| {"text":"Another set of tyrns passes and begins again, bringing with it a new set of challenges. The threat of lunar invasion has passed, and with it a new era of peace begins. Of course such things rarely last. Already the nations of the world dabble in tremendous powers that could alter the world. Stolen lunar technologies, tremendous machines worked powered by magic, the holy light of gods and puppets stitched together from broken spirits. The world lurches toward great change, ready or not. --- This a Multiplayer Nation Roleplay! Unfortunately we are full up on players at the moment with no openings expected. Apologies to anyone who wanted to join! Global Across the land all breathe a sigh of relief as the great silver fortresses of the Lunites march into the ocean, never to be seen again. Even those few who can follow them find no trace a tyrn later. Turbans Glorious victory at last! Though the battle rages day and night Turban ingenuity has won the day, developing horrific poisons that leave the invaders trembling and flailing while strikes against key locations of their silver fortress has sent it into retreat toward the ocean! Despite the usage of terrible weapons of magical fog the invaders have been driven back! At the height of the battle a great charge of biotitans slam into the fortress and hurl it into the sea! Glory to the Turquoise Turbans! Nothing remains of the invaders save their memory. Vencia The great cataloging of Taxmoss is an exciting time for the explorers of Vencia as they cross the foreign jungles on the far side of the Tarn. It is of course also a somewhat terrifying time of course, because such activities inevitably lead into the territories of the Red Wall, a fearsome skrit war thing that is decidedly less friendly than the usual Skrit, it seems quite determined to devour everything in reach in fact. A nutty new gourd is discovered in the jungles, one that curiously grows more like an onion than a normal squash, with most of the plant firmly underground. Getting them pulled free is quite the hassle, fortunately normal Skrit drones are usually handy to help dig them out. When the ants get into the leftover squash left as payment they change color to a curious metallic brown, at least when not near a venk. Is this some sort of magical thing?"} |
| {"text":"The Divine Republic of Guliseare The most loyal, most faithful, fiercest inquisitors and ardent believers all gather together at the exercise grounds. And there is Ourania, and Cyra both. Kallixeina breaks all decorum, throwing herself between Cyra and the traitor, demanding to know her plot, her plans. There is nothing to be seen, nothing out of place, but as the heretic kneels Kallixeina feels the horror mount in her body. “Let me show you the power of our true god.” The world turns white, only a column of bleached out visibility remains, surrounding Ourania and Kallixeina. All else is silence, no the roar of sound so loud and everpresent it has become silence. It stretches out for eternity, just the two of them in the eye of the storm, then finally white becomes a storm of fire, silence becomes a roar, and it fades and fades and fades down to nothing. There is nothing else in the exercise ground save them. Cyra, inquisitors, the most ardent and faithful of Guliseare, gone in an instant that stretched out into an eternity. Guliseare is thrown into chaos, yes, but it is a planned chaos, one orchestrated and ready, one underpinned by the lowest classes of Aripan slaves. Loyalists find themselves starved, their orchards picked clean and hunting ground despoiled. Their equipment stolen by the people maintained and repaired it; airship lift rods all scratched by the laborers who carried them. And everywhere is Ourania, setting down the new order. A Guliseare for all. Vone II, King of the Venks The loss of the Skrit is a keenly felt blow for the Venks, even all this time later and so it is that a great monument of their relationship is set down on the high peaks, of a giant ant and a venk relaxing and enjoying food together. A long and sprawling wall is hastily assembled across the taxmoss region as the world lurches toward war once more."} |
| {"text":"Kholan of Khurnaire The Red Wall is a sad thing, directionless, without a master or purpose, defending a nation that no longer exists, subdued by merchants. The arts of flesh warping are not generally intended for such small creatures, but she has old secrets at her disposal, and old knowledge, bits and pieces that she cannot remember where they all came from. For a moment, no never, it never happened, a hot tear runs down her face, when she considers how easy it would be with the true words, but she scarcely remembers they exist. But ants are simple things. The right smells, the right chemicals, and they would obey. Did the Turbans allow the Khurnaire sages to take samples and perform experiments? Or are they just not paying attention enough to care? It is hard to say. Still, the applications of the material are fascinating, even if they rather rapidly result in lost limbs and fingers. The magic dampening nature of it is quite disturbing, especially as the soot and smoke from burning the material carries the effect and gets into everything, indeed it is this effect that fascinates the scholars the most, developing a tasteless extract of the material that for a time disrupts and inhibits magic in the body. Still there are boundless other applications of fiery death, stable fuels, and propelled metallic death that could be pursued. The people of the port are stubborn and loyal to a fault, taking their distant deployment far from Turban lands as a sign of their nation’s trust."} |
| {"text":"War and Shennigans Krawl and the Sabbatical Another squad of ninjas, this time backed by resident botanical terror Sabatical, moves to retake the refinery. The second attempt goes much better than the first, with ninjas setting up Sabbatical to infect and puppet the intruders, rapidly turning the tide and absorbing the army into Sabbatical's mass. The matter seems all but resolved when Sabbatical inexplicably turns rogue after an extended and confusing argument with himself, ensnares dozens of ninjas and escapes first into the jungle, then bizarrely into the water. Missionary Madness Loluna, Krovians, Barza, Habitun It ought to have been a suicide mission. Krovian, Lolunan, and Barzan missionaries all meet in Holbastus to discuss the children of darkness, the Habitun Cult. The conclusion is inevitable, the path the Habitun Cult walks is one of self destructive madness, one that could end in both their deaths, and the worlds. The light of Luxor must be brought to them to dissuade from their path. While the Barzan missionaries are primarily focused on work in Loluna proper, they still lend valuable advice to the Lolunan and Krovian acolytes on their dangerous mission. A direct approach is suicidal. Passing through the dwarven lands is less dangerous, but still difficult. In the end the missionaries use a two pronged approach. One group carefully, at a rather safe distance from the border (but still before the numerous warning signs) sets up camp, and begins walking the border, probing and looking, preaching directly into the treeline sometimes, but never crossing the border. Sometimes arrows drive into the earth at their feet. Sometimes the shadows twist and loom viciously. But they do not cross the border, and some sense of honor keeps the Habitun border guard from unleashing death until they do. Others take advantage of the distraction at the border and slip along the coasts in little boats, the krovian acolytes helping to move swiftly by night. Either luck or Luxor is with them, likely both, for they slip into Habitun proper, evading patrols, ghostly cats and more terrors as they go. Then begins a wild chain of missionary work, delivering their message, healing the sick, and running like hell before the geists catch up to them. After any number of near misses they manage to find their way into the dwarven lands where, with some relief, they surrender to the locals. In Habitun proper the event of the missionaries seems to pass quietly at first, but in the coming days and weeks there is a definite undercurrent of unrest. Asylum visits rise sharply, and far and wide there is a sensation of...doubt, especially |
| textAttack on Fort Suka Krovians and Krawl are not given to sentimentality, or notions of idealistic justice. But as the Grib army advances, backed by the fire brigade of the Krawl, and they come across more and more signs of the molluscoid infection, homesteads twisted into breeding pits, animals half devoured and left to rot and writhe with molluscoid spawn, and other atrocities, a rage builds in both groups, a mixture of revulsion, disgust, rage and fundamental belief that this menace is a blight on the landscape, an infection that must be purged from the world, a foreign cancer to be expunged. When the first molluscoids, confident from their last encounter, swagger into place on the walls of the Krovian fort the air fills with fire and flame. Moments later, four hulking giant sharkmen slam iron shark rams into the walls. Soldiers pour in, some of them the very soldiers who were forced to flee the fort some tyrns ago, flying into a glorious blood rage. The cleansing in brutal, molluscoids hacked, bitten, and torn asunder in droves as their morale breaks and they flee in a panic. Fire rains down from the Krawl forces, scorching and filling the air with the oddly delicious smell of seafood. The battle rages from the fort, then into the water, the Krovian forces hunting and killing all they can until the Molluscoids finally, in a panic, manage to flee far enough into the ocean that the Krovians finally turn back. Exhausted, but satisfied, the Grib army unfortunately must begin the long walk back to a city to rest and resupply, but more forces are on the way to replace them, and the Krawl army still has fight remaining in them. The remaining Molluscoids regroup at their northern holding, panicking as they try to decide their next move. ----END TURN 44---- |
| textDecades of planning. Years of preparation. Months of manipulation. Days of agonizing anxiety...And, it worked. It worked. The council gone in an instant. Almost every other consecrated...Gone. The only one spared being Ilias, and oddly enough Kallixeina. She stared down at the smaller Blessed Aripan as the horror dawned on them. Ourania could have struck her down where she stood with the shock that the poor girl was under. Yet, she took pity on her. Kindness was a virtue, and mercy a kindness. Even if one not offered to her faithful. She knew that the smaller Aripan would never be a threat to her, now or in the future... Besides, she had to have been saved for a reason. \ Ourania said, Kallixeina hesitating, only for Ourania to further pressure her to leave \ And with that, Kallixeina flew off in search for Ilias. Action One. The tightens, then loosens. With the coup having gone flawlessly, and much of both the food and raw resources claimed, there is much to be done to ensure that this transition goes as smoothly as possible. The first hurdle is the tension between the Anelk and Aripan. There is significant numbers of Anelk whom have avoided Kaenum for fear of the retribution that the Aripan would unleash upon them were they to find out. These Anelk might try to get revenge against their captors in a far more...broad and problematic way. Further, the overwhelming majority of Aripan followed Aelelox, and there was more than enough who would rather fight than allow what was in their eyes a dark god taking power. Trying to limit this violence, properly restore the basic, local functions of governance, and winning the hearts and minds of those whom were tricked by Aelelox's tyrant was imperative... Fortunately, a number who could not be reconciled with seemed content to leave, heading far south where slowly but surely, Ourania pieced together that the little colony had become the target of those choosing exodus rather than fighting the new way of things or acceptance of it. Action Two. Reorganization. There was many things about the prior Republic that was flawed and would no longer be compatible for Ourania's vision. Reorganizing the Army, the higher parts of governance and more was considered of major importance. A number of aspects which were useful and beneficial were expanded or retooled as well, and those whom were of vital assistance in this plot would be granted titles based on merit. It was hoped that things would settle down in Guliseare quickly and the country would be able to recover quickly with Ourania's guidance from the Sublime Monticco. A hidden settlement where much of her supporters from before this great victory resided."} |
| {"text":"You've died. You can't quite remember how it happened, you remember screaming and the crunching noise of metal on metal. You remember feeling pain and scared for only a split second. The glitter of crushed glass beneath your collapsing body. And then... Then what? Then nothing. You die and then you wake up. Cold silk. The soft drip of rain drops against large windows. The muffled, chaotic heartbeat of a grand estate in full movement, like a buzzing hive. People laughing all around you, you're surrounded by a crowd of men and women dressed in elegant clothes; talking to you, smiling to you, vying for your attention. You flinch, and everything is wrong: the portrait on the wall, the candlelight, your dress... You know these details. You've seen them before... not in life, but in fiction. So shocked, in fact, that you've dropped the glass of wine you'd been holding mere seconds before, and it breaks on impact, splashing the wide, long skirt of your dress with red like a blood stain. Everyone's attention is on you. And a handsome man with dark hair and dressed in an old-fashioned military uniform approaches, handkerchief in hand. He talks, but your head's roaring, and can't really focus on what he says. You're panicking, you need to get out. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"QM, are you alive?"} |
| {"text":"[Let him hold your hand and face the night together] I'm excited to play an otome isekai quest |
| textOP ? |
| textwelp, a shame this died very early on |
| text[Let him hold your hand and face the night together] Might as well see what happens |
| textRain filters in through the ceiling, sliding along the support beams in just such a way it misses the numerous pots, pans, and cups scattered around the delipidated apartment and is readily sucked into the mouldy carpet. Which is then again immediately transferred to a new object: your sock. Your very next steps now all dotted with a wet squelch. \ You cry, as you balance on one foot to pull the sock of the other, only for said wet sock to cozy up to the business end of the cigarette you had tucked between two fingers, providing a new, enticing after-taste to the familiar menthol as you unknowingly take a drag. \ It might've been a week or so since you had washed that sock. How had it come to this? Well, the demon king lost against The Seven Braves. A poor title for a bunch of delinquents that jumped a guy seven to one. They murdered their way deep into the demon capital, defeated all the bureaucrats present, and killed the ministers while shouting inane things like \"Die Heavenly Generals!\" They hadn't been generals and they certainly hadn't been heavenly. They were butchered all the same and all branches of government were eradicated over the span of a few days. After performing what amounts to genocide, the \"Saintes\" had the gall to clasp her still-bloody hands together, bat her eyelashes, and say things like \"No, we can't kill them all, that would make us just like them!\} |
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| {:BAIL!\The cargo's open at the top! Get in and get it moving!\" Allan covers for you as he shoots down two men from the following convoy, allowing you your chance to run in and scale up the large container as you rush towards the cockpit. An unrecognizable face greeting you as you forced the jammed cockpit door open Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"(And that's a wrap for the phase, Hope you all liked it and have some happy holidays this season! I'm not sure if I'll continue for the month or wait until next year's eve to come. But whichever case it is. I hope you enjoy it all the same)"} |
| {"text":"alright OP. btw I got a lil confused so I'll ask: allan is someone who knew the og grenel, right ? she isn't related to zaft like us ?"} |
| {"text":"(Yep, He's an Alliance Soldier who's got a pretty close bond with the actual Grenel Loos. Not to be confused with Mayano, the Spy Frieden was sent to Heliopolis to retrieve)"} |
| {"text":"New Thread:"} |
| {"text":"Welcome to the Cygnus Sector, officer! Always good to see new people fresh from the Star Academy! I went there myself, you know? I'm sure you read the mission briefing. Here in the Cygnus sector, we are battling the K'tharr, an advanced alien race. Capturing their ships for analysis is what every officer dreams to do. Unfortunatelly, simply surviving an encounter with them is already a challenge. I'm not going to put you in the direct contact line just now. It is time you start commanding more than just training vessels and simulators. You'll get your very own fleet! Of course, it comes with some managerial work. But you sure are prepared for that, from the Academy. The Eagle Alpha Spaceyard (EASY) constructs corvettes and frigates for the war effort. Your starter budget for your fleet is ten million credits. That should be enough for a few decent ships. Your mission is to Secure a mining colony output. There have been pirate attacks lately. They tend to attack near the dates when we send the compressed ore back for refining. This day is approaching, so your fleet shall escort the ships coming back with the cargo. You'll rendezvous with Colonel Frank, who is overseeing the mining operations. Good Luck, Captain! |
| textAs the fight rages on, you leave most of your men behind, fighting the pirate crew. About 200 men board the cruiser and slay the defenders. You reach the helm, and your science officer plugs in his portable hacking station to make the system think you are the pirate captain. Luckily, the pirates don't have a very high level security suite on their ship - all your officer had to do was cut off external communications, tamper the records including you as a crewmember, rise you to second in command, and then mark the captain as deceaed. The onboard computer accepts you as the new captain, and you order the cruiser to undock. The cruiser marks all your men as unidentified, and you tell it they are new crew members who just joined. On every corridor of the ship, terminals pop up from the walls demanding the crew members provide their biometrics and state their names and roles for updating permissions. You tell people it is okay and they should do it - give the computer your pirate monikers. Soon, all your crew invent a bunch of pirate sounding names and roles for themselves and they all appear for review. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text."} |
| {"text":"Well what I'd like to try is aiming the ship guns at the pirates and demanding their surrender. It sounds like we can't turn the comms on until the computer is disabled, so aim the guns first before shutting it off. Maybe fire a warning shot off into space if theres no danger in that. If that doesn't work grab all the heavy guns the pirates had and call on our other ships to send reinforcements to fight this out. |
| textSupporting, pirates will lay down their weapons or die. If our men dont survive this neither will they. |
| textmake it so |
| text+1 |
| textYou are Neutralplier. You live in a very spacious house, which is entirety empty except for a pillow, a blanket, and your computer, which you use to blogpost about your daily life. Your day has been largely uneventful. When you woke up, you immediately opened your computer to post about how you just woke up, and also how you stuck a finger up your ass recently but it didn't really feel good, it just felt okay, and that was kind of disappointing. But you're not gay though, you were just trying it out. Also you wish you had a BBC dildo if that matters but you can't afford one. Anyway, a weird rock just crash landed through your roof, and now sits at your feet. It has a strange face carved into it that doesn't look like anyone you've ever seen. You don't feel particularly strongly about this. It's kind of cool, you guess. What do you do?"} |
| {"text":"good call"} |
| {"text":"No homo, yeah Call doordash, wait for them to get here, then forcefeed the doordash wagie to trump since vlodstone won't fit |
| textget out of there asap before the secret service comes and gets your ass |
| textgo to rotscheilds or bogdanoffs or whoever controls the banks or something |
| textTAKE VLODSON TO QUOTE |
| textIt is nearing a year since you, The Courier, fought and secured independence of the Mojave from domestic and foreign powers. Mr. House was put on ice, the NCR got sent packing and even the mighty Legion tucked tail and fled back East. Now, the New Vegas Directorate, your new government, faces as many challenges as it does opportunities. Industry is rapidly expanding and agriculture is now firmly established while migrants from around the wasteland flood in looking to change their fortunes. But the Boomer Blight, an engineered plague from parts unknown, is spreading throughout the Wasteland and little looks uncontainable. You continue to walk the line in courting both the NCR and the Legion, seeking to be a stable power between the two warring giants. A new player comes into the picture and he brings with him hundreds of Enclave descendants eager to start again. You have agreed to welcome them into the NVD but time will tell if you can hide their influence from the NCR while keeping other factions happy. With the looming NCR election, the hostile President Kimball seems poised to lose to the unknown Allgood Murphy while Caesar continues to see you as his Augustus, urging greater cooperation between both nations. The one-year anniversary is rapidly approaching and while a grand celebration is planned, existential threats lurk everywhere and with Mr. House on the loose, you can be sure you’ll see him one last time. |
| textKingston Peak is only just over the border in an unpopulated area* and Big MT has a direct rail connection to Vegas - if the rail connection is a quick fix, we should be able to drive them out without too much risk (though preferably at night). Alternatively, we may be able to drag them overland, transport them in disassembled pieces or just cannibalise them for parts to fix the several we do have already kicking about. *There's a location conflict here. Kingston Peak is about 30 miles NW of Mountain Pass aka Mojave Outpost but the provided map schematic places Big MT south of Nipton. This doesn't make sense, unless its placement on the map is just a placeholder since its location was unknown at the time. |
| textthis is worth doing having a railroad again would be good not as good as a road, for obvious reasons, but still very good |
| textThe last month and a half got me pretty off track with posting, my deepest apologies. Going to archive this thread and finish the celebrations in the next one so please be on the lookout for that. Will link it in here of course. |
| textno need to apologize ofc |
| textThank you for running, Survivalist! |
| textLast time, the Johnny convention came to a close, including the after party. Everyone had a great time, mainly you! Free from the love of your fans, you’re on a quest to make it up with Bagna, who desires cake and nothing more. You guess, anyway, anything to make up for keeping her imprisoned in cloth. To bake the one above all, you sought the ingredients at the nearest convenience store! But you found more than you bargained for, and had a violent encounter with some low tier thugs. Nothing happened to you, but to them? It wasn’t pretty. Mama Bodil dealt with the fallout. Now you’re at the steps of the Prison Party House! You figured this is a good place to bake the dessert, and Lydie wanted to know about Beth. So here you are! But to your surprise, something is afoot, after the former prisoner and actual Pirate Sally opened the door — you noticed a heatwave coming from within the house. It’s summer, but Global Warming doesn’t happen in the entirety of a room. The scarcely dressed sailor takes a moment to come to her senses after breathing some fresh air. She welcomes you! “Ahoy!!!” The melting pirate opens her arms in exuberant excitement! “Welcome, welcome...!” She’s still melting! “Woah! With these attributes, I know why you wanted me to meet Beth in person, my dear trophy! You surround yourself with quality people!” Lydie looks at the bounty of this pirate. “I’m one of Johnny’s greatest admirers, Lydie! Nice to meet you! ” “Huh? Beth? I’m not Beth.” Sally snaps out of her joyous state. “I’m Sally! Nice to meet you though! And, um, I like to admire him too.” Sally returns to her happy ways with an added hint of confusion. She wonders what being an admirer means in this context. “I’m sure you’re here for more than just Beth, right? Come in!” Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textDespite Tiny Kata being wrong for saying that the girls are for you to do whatever you see fit, you think her suggestions are pretty good! Maybe this is something about you that you don’t want to unpack at the moment, but you’re a comfy despot anyway. You’re supposed to have some edge to your character. “I did say I want to cuddle with everyone, but your request has me intrigued.” You play with your invisible beard. “Who will show their best qualities with the role I envisioned? I know!” “Oh~? A spark of inspiration?! I’m looking forward to seeing it in all of its glory!” Lydie gets all giddy! “The Kingdom of Coziness requires Kushi’s presence!” You say your newest loyal decree! Through the curtains, the culinary genius appears... “Chef Ando… How I missed your pleasing visage, even if accompanied by someone else…” Kushi appears to be more affected by the cake than before. “What can I do for you? I’ve been waiting for direction.” “Ms. Kushi? I know little about her aside from her tendency towards culinary critique!” Lydie wants to know more. “Lydie, allow me to show Kushi’s most important qualities!” You know it’s her commitment! “My dear Kushi, will you be my maid?” Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textThanks for running! |
| textThx |
| textThanks for running |
| textThanks for running. |
| text“The Southlands.” That’s what the races of the Northwest call them, as if they were one place—a realm unified under a single nation or people. In truth, the Southlands are a molten mosaic of humans, beastmen, and sundry others flowing over and through each other in coexistence and in conflict. The land itself is a tapestry of desert and jungle, of low savannah and high plateau, where even the Race of Man is far from uniform: the hides of the humans here range from a ruddy tan to a deep blue-black that nearly equals the Drow of Wevenore. Not that you got to see much of it. You are James Efron, Senior Initiate of the Hawksong Mages’ Tower. At your age—twenty-three—you really ought to be a Mage Apprentice. You should be studying in some stuffy laboratory back home in the big city like Izirina Henzler, or maybe taking a practicum under some smaller adjunct Associate Tower like your old pal Testa. But nooo, you craved a life of action, of adventure! ‘<Fireball> is meant for the field!’ you used to boast of your favourite spell. So you’d taken the field, first as a formal Field Researcher and then later as a freelance adventurer-for-hire. And that had led you here. To the Southlands. To this dungeon. It isn’t the cool kind of dungeon, full of monsters to kite and <Chain Lightning> for coin, alas. It’s the kind where Southrons store their prisoners-of-war, for that seems to be the size of your sad situation: a prisoner, at the beginnings of what is shaping up to be a full-scale intercivilizational conflict. The Men of the South may be myriad, but tensions between their ilk and the fairer folk of the Northwest—your homeland, Hawksong’s aegis—have been a unifying cause as of late, and not only for the human races. Relations have been fraying since before you were born, when a sinister cabal of dark-skinned demon-worshippers staged a terrorist attack on the Mages’ Tower itself, assassinating the Archmage and destroying the much-beloved Eternal Fountain. |
| textsince the chiffchaff stronghold was literally built on a Hawksong city... Yeah, the votes to avoid a lot of direct negotiation with the locals led that way, though when I say \ I mean the Boneyard Gnoll culture, the mephit-worshiping plains-and-mountain beastman traders, etc as well. You mean the <want> system? Nah, that's a Reptilian Infiltrator throwback, though duly noted! I meant the more complex stat system, party stats, weapon damage rolls, more direct HP tracking, and all that. ZZ is a much bigger cunt than usual Eh, perhaps I overdid it. It was meant to convey stress and displeasure over Jimmy's situation, and annoyance with CZ and her party for breaking the forge at such a crucial juncture. Under the current system someone at skill level 5 has like 1/4 chance of crit per roll and that might be excessive. 22.62%, but fair. A 5d20 is meant to be an expert, heroic-level skill. I did notice that with the more detailed damage/HP tracking than past quests, it led to more dramatic turnabouts! Testa revive was pure charity. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textHow did you like your first visit to the Southlands? It's a setting I hope to explore a bit more in future, so I was curious how people's first impressions of some of the local races and religions were? I like the new corner of the world, specially with their more liberal use of demons for contracts In the quest as a whole, I've gone a bit more in-depth mechanically than in prior quests. Do you feel the mechanics add to the narrative, detract from it, or are you uninterested? Should the balance of crunch-to-narrative change for my next quest? The mechanics seem fine Related to the above, do you feel the DCs, stakes, and/or consequences are too harsh? I know nobody was happy to lose Hershy, but more broadly: does this quest seem too punishing? unlucky situations aside, the dcs and rolls have been okay for most of the quest For those of you who have played my other quests: which one's your fave? Does this feel distinct, and does it hold up? I still prefer Seekers of the Esoteric, but this one was nice as well Is there anything in particular you want to see included in our final Cambion Quest wrap-up, or that I can perhaps answer now? how's tips and izzy doing"} |
| {"text":"How did you like your first visit to the Southlands? Cool, but less than Orient which we saw more of. Crunch/Narrative I like it as is. However I don't like the \ as I enjoy seeing them on the topic (or rolling myself) Consequences It's been harsh : Xoldur... Yeah, that was multiple failures. I can live with that. Murbal and Meadowgrass? Disparitions felt undeserverd. Copperbelt? Rip on a single roll. Hershey? One shot is rough. Matilda/Emperor was cruel."} |
| {"text":"how's tips and izzy doing desu, in regards to this and the ask in about other characters who haven't really appeared in this quest, that will probably have to mostly wait for next quest, though I'm happy to answer questions which aren't direct spoilers, and there MAY yet be opportunities to see some of them before then. \"rolls in the room\" I get that, but for big fights with many rolls, it really gets impractical to roll them all here with 4chan's limited dice-rolling, It would just end up with a wall of posts that are just rolls, or really choppy, piecemeal writing. Murbal and Meadowgrass? Xoldur's fate essentially sealed Murbal's. Going after her right away (or having her with ZZ) would have given you more options to talk her out of leaving, but as it is she's shamed herself in her own eyes and her people's. Martyn Meadowgrass was 100% going to try to take a break with CZ after the shirin \ incident, and then seeing his friend turn into a similar monster in death. Tildy and Empy living at all, even with a chance to save them, was more charitable than how the rolls went |
| textNew thread is up, btw! |
| textYour name is Feral. You thought you and your bandmates were going to a crazy tour around the world but instead what happened is that you plane crashed midway. You woke up, and the only person you could find is Fred Cobst, your lead singer. Both of you are confused and scared. What do you do? |
| textForgot to attach award |
| textfind an octopus in the sea to eat the crabs |
| textPray to Gigachad and beg to be saved |
| textswing your bwc like a helicopter and fly home |
| textreverse fart the ocean water into your asshole and then spray it out your dick shooting the crabs in the face with ocean ass dick water bulletts obviously pinching your dick between shots for maximum blast force |
| text\ -From the analysis video \ You are Margot Merriweather, a woman of order who - despite being a child at the time - opted to play as a \ embracing the decoration and design of the in-game \. After a decade of being away from the game, you decided to make a new character, just to peak in and relive those years for a few moments. Nostalgia was the only thing that seemed to pause your now busy life, so occasionally after getting suitably tipsy you dip into the past. Perhaps in reliving, you gain a further appreciation for the present moment, thus making the seconds more palpable; Or maybe it's pure delusion, and the reality is you're spending your weekend alone again, desperately trying to be a kid. As judgemental as you might feel towards your own desires, you allow yourself to be under this spell, log in to your old account, and add a new profile. Halloween is that one time of year where all the children conquer any social misgivings for the sake of mountains of sweets. This year - however - is different, because among the candy being given, there are sure to be some Tricky Treats! Tricky Inc. threw its hat into the candy business, and their product - Tricky Treats - exploded in popularity. Kids can't get enough, Adults can't get enough, and even the monster under your bed wants that Tricky taste! So what are you waiting for, get out there and do what it takes to snag a bag full! Choose your Class! : Sugar Gobbler (Ring the doorbell, get the candy, ring the doorbell, get the candy... Wanna trade?) Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textCatch up with your old friend, maybe make some new ones Hopefully they don't, uh, kill us."} |
| {"text":"Spend the night away."} |
| {"text":"Heed the call of the treats"} |
| {"text":"QM?"} |
| {"text":"Sad..."} |
| {"text":"You're Soijak. You wake up in the morning, expecting to see your wife fucking her bull Tyrone. However, both of them are mysteriously missing. You look out the window into your walkable city, expecting to see people walking and playing Jefre Cantu-Ledesma, but it's completely empty. All the other pods near where you live are empty as well, and it seems like a complete ghost town. What do (You) do?"} |
| {"text":"Leave it be and go on Reddit and post on R/196 to ask users what happened"} |
| {"text":"Say to him exactly, \"CORD CORD CORD YOU'RE BAITING ME SOOT ROOT FROOT MOOT KUZ QUOTE DOX AND RANGEBAN HIM NOOOOW!\} |
| {:} |
| {:} |
| {:} |
| {:} |
| {:} |
| {:Please leave a message after the tone.\Creed, they say you're mobile but that the O'Leary Inferno's right behind you. Please pick up. Please call back... I know Thomas is in there with you... Tell him I'm sorry for training a weapon on him. I didn't know until I saw his face. Tell him that was me. Tell all of them I'm sorry. Whatever you do, don't... Don't trust Task Force: Valkyrie. Good luck. I'll keep this with me. Call.\" You say, barely beating the beep that cuts off your transmission. Both of these burners will work regardless of spirit interference, or even a lack of conventional radio waves - just another of the myriad gadgets you have access to as a member of Task Force: Valkyrie, a vast government conspiracy founded before the death of Lincoln. You are an agent of THE 'deep state'. You are the black book military boogeyman. You've spent a number of years serving your country by monitoring, cultivating, and reporting on civilian monster hunters in Chicago as well as municipal or neighborhood-level paranormal threats as they presented themselves. You're in the bathroom of a hotel room not too far from where the chaos is spiraling out of control, and you take the goggles and mask off to show your face. A clean shaven Hispanic man with a neat haircut, full lips, and dark green eyes with bags under them. Looking at yourself you see Tom, eye patch over his head, blood and sweat everywhere. Just how he looked in that department store when you pursued him. You still aren't sure if he was about to shoot you before that monster attacked from behind. You suppose it doesn't matter. You heave a deep sigh, considering all the lies you told Thomas, Edgar, Wanda, and Creed over the time you knew them. All the vague misdirects. All the blatant fabrications. You think about how quickly they integrated everything you taught them, and even just habits they noticed of yours, when it was efficient. Though, they hardly needed any developing to be some of the best monster killers in the region based on aggregates from the TF:V external monitoring network database and their personal dossier files (which you have contributed heavily to and read many times). But they were great friends, too. Even when you kept them at arms length, they managed to hug you somehow. You break eye contact with yourself, staring instead at the blank white porcelain. You have to warn them about the Task Force's plan... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text. |
| textOk everybody!!!! That does it for Ratpocalypse!!!!!!! Thanks so much for being a part of my very first quest! See you in my other ones I hope, you guys rule (: If you have any feedback feel free to drop it before the thread hits the graveyard; I know that I learned a LOT by running this. Truly still just gobsmacked by the sheer absurdity of Thomas Fisek's misfortune... Gonna always remember that 1d100 Spoilers for rats #2 ahead: whenever it is I finally get back to this, we will be doing a time skip of 9 years, during which our four heroes (and James) have been in the undercity fighting to survive THE ENTIRE TIME. We will pick up on the day that they finally get to the surface, and the city will have changed VASTLY by then. Anastasia will be a teenager, and be known by reputation as a deadly hunter and mighty sorceress, The Tiger Orphan, champion of the Clay Colony.... Perspective will swap between Tom and Ana. Miguel and Elias will feature more prominently. This feels like a truly horrific punishment for the nat 100 but also a great way to breath more life into this world for its second season."} |
| {"text":"Hopefully I'll be there for it when it starts, I don't always check new quests, best of luck (for your players) on your next quests!"} |
| {"text":"Thanks boss, it was a real pleasure having you!"} |
| {"text":"THE DARING CONTINUATION OF JERKCITY VOLUME ON EPISODE IV: A NEW DONG (DIRECTOR'S CUT REDUX REVISED YOU are SPIGOT, useless dope head extraordinaire, on a mission to uh.. Shit was was it? |
| textSPICASSERINE OH HOW THINE LONG HOWLS EXCITE THE BROADS OKAY RANDDEBIEL WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON LIKE WHAT IN THE WORLD (OR WHEREVER WE ARE NOW) ARE YOU DOING YOU HAVE BEEN SCHIZZING OUT THIS ENTIRE TIME AND YOU EVEN YOINKED MY MONEY DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD ATANDT WORKED FOR THAT YOU CORDUROYED ERLEMEYER LIKE SERIOUSLY, WHAT IS YOUR DEAL ALSO ASK THE WOMAN FOR HER NAME ONCE AGAIN WE NEED TO KNOW WHERE SHE LIVES WHEN WE ARE TAKING REVENGE FOR OUR FACE FULL OF FLUKEY-ASS CRAP |
| textCOUNTEDDD KINDA BUSY WEEKEND AHEAD BUT BAH GAWD WE'LL FINISH THIS"} |
| {"text":"....Anything happen to you, SpigQM?"} |
| {"text":"OP please come back..."} |
| {"text":"Cityjerkers.... is it over? Did momma raise a flaker after all? (Most likely not, more like a worker if we regard the reasons given)"} |
| {"text":"I was about to object to lowballing Ginyu like that before I remembered that Kayo held down a post-Zamasu SSJ2 Goku. It feels like only a few weeks ago that Majin Buu's body had the most overwhelming power by far, and it was a genuine miracle that the bodyswap worked. |
| text24 hours until the new episode begins! a bit much In terms of raw power, probably. After all, he's strong enough to hold Dyspo down with the equivalent of one hand. But our Ginyu Force has a LOT MORE than physical power. A Goku who was conserving power, who couldn't actually land a punch. |
| text24 hours until the new episode starts! It will be episode 250. I would say it's a special moment."} |
| {"text":"Indeed, SOON!"} |
| {"text":"The big 250 begins NOW!"} |
| {"text":"Take your time QM. Even if you typing like this is honestly really funny, please for the love of God do not hurt yourself on our behalf."} |
| {"text":"Rest and heal up. We'll see you soon. |
| textRest and recover, QM. Health comes first. |
| textI hope things calm down for you soon, QM. See you next month! |
| |
