This board is for author-driven collaborative storytelling (i.e., "Quests"). In a quest there is a single author who controls the plot of the story and who drives the creative process. They can choose to take suggestions from other posters, or not, at their sole discretion. Quests can be text-based, image-based, or a combination of the two. Drawfaggotry is strongly encouraged!To facilitate the author-driven nature of quests, /qst/ differs significantly from other boards in that the OP of a thread is considered the quest's author, and has some basic text formatting abilities: [b], [i], and color tags [red], [green], and [blue]. Therefore, only those people willing to put in the effort to be a quest author should post threads. If you do not intend to run a collaborative story, do not post a thread here! This includes meta-threads. Dice rolling follows /tg/'s format (e.g., "dice+2d6" without the quotes in the options field rolls 2d6).
Current board settings:Anyone can post images.Anyone can use painter.Anyone can use dice & spoilers.Only OP can use text formatting.3000 character limit.750 bump limit.Decreased post timer to match /tg/ (30 seconds for text, 60 seconds for an image reply).Automatic permasage after 72 hours.Thread specific user IDs.Max threads per IP is 5.Standard 7 day internal archive.
BRIEF RECAP: It all began with a small box located in the undercarriage of a boosted car, parked outside a warehouse with mob connections deeper than Gotham Bay, Officer Mark DeLucia; a fresh faced Rookie with the GCPD and a power of his own. Shivers allows Mark to communicate with Gotham City, sometimes he's shown seemingly random visions, or given fleeting scents and sensations typically as a warning. Instead of using this power to operate as a vigilante as many others have done he instead decided to join the Gotham City Police Department and use his ability in the open. Not hiding behind a mask or a secret identity he seeks to do whatever is in his power to make his city just a little bit better for the everyday person. The first few months of the job have been hard, facing a plethora of woman troubles, home invasions, and more than a few attempts on his own life Mark has carved out a solid group within the department alongside his GCPD Mentor Mitch Hawthorne, the long-toothed detective Thomas 'Gray' Bennett, and former Army Captain turned cop: Luke Kimble. Those connections alongside The Question and Huntress vigilantes have been vital in Mark's mission to stop The SIM Killer, Mafioso Hit-Man who seems to possess his own Dark version of Shivers. Starting his investigation off-the-books Mark now finds himself at the tail end of a successful sting to strike at the Mob Families that employ SIM and back in the sights of Firebug, who seeks to kill current Mayor of Gotham: Harvey Dent and anyone who would protect him...======"You're wrong there, Kimble. The driver made the smart choice, he's perfectly fine, better than we found him even. You can't build your house on rotten timbers and expect it to stand forever. This is your last chance, all three of you. Walk away now and let me burn the debris, clear the way for your department to build Gotham back up again the right way."You swallow hard and give a look to Banks, his eyes are fixed on Firebug but his breath is shallow and rapid while his eyes seem distant and unfocused. A delicate touch to his arm makes him jolt as he turns to face you."We aren't listening to this right?"A voice over your shoulder replies."Maybe we should.."Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6004521I want to apologize to Kimble once this blows over and we have all-clear. All of us anons fucking fell for it instead of trusting Kimble and picking up the subtlety, and so did Mark. Kimble deserves better than this shit even though we're improvising. He's feeling a bit better now that we're still alive and putting distance between us and Firebug, but I bet this will bother the guy after all this unless we talk about it.But was it still a good thing? Could Firebug have seen through it if we did obey Kimble's ruse? With how staunch Mark Banks and Kimble were protecting Dent back in the first encounter outside the museum, Firebug might have questioned the out-of-character moment and connected the dots with Kimble's lines. I believe this guy is smart and perceptive enough to do that in that scenario, and then we'd be screwed as he turns that flamethrower on us with no reason to hold back. Right now his anger is clouding his judgement, and we need to maintain the ruse for it.What do you think?
>>6004537Apologise certainly but its not quite as bad as really thinking he'd abandon Dent. I certainly didnt think so. I actually thought it was a ruse from him to make Firebug drop his guard further, allowing us to quickdraw and magdump into him quickly.And yes, firebug would have quickly seen through the ruse for lack for screaming Dent in the car when it goes up. But at that point I guess his plan would have been for us to hoof it and make tracks. We wouldnt have gotten far before he figured it out but he might also have been mad enough to come after us.
>>6004537>>6004546I don't think there's a need for big apology, Mark can just admit with a degree of humor that without shivers he's bad at picking up subtle hints.
>>6004411+1 and holy shit that's awesome anon
>>6004346>>6004363>>6004405>>6004407>>6004411>>6004413>>6004572I'll be a little late getting home so the update will come in about an hour(ish). I plan on running until 11am EST to get two posts out though. We are locked in for Everything but the Kitchen Sink. See you guys in a bit. >>6004537>>6004546>>6004558Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
The world as you know it is gone, who knows why, but at least you had enough foresight to build this nifty bunker in your backyard. For being such a genius survivalist you didn’t bring much, maybe you’re looking at things the wrong way. What things (and or people) did you manage to bring down here with you?
You look upon the wreckage of the shed, the flames have died down but the endless flood of smoke fills your vision, it beats down on you through the damp shirt. You can hardly breathe. The smoke darkens everything near the shack as the sun already hangs lower in the sky than when you started. The scrap lodged within the roof creaks and groans as the wind races through it, the closer you approach the more sounds you clue in on. If it doesn’t collapse now it will soon, and whatever you had in there before the bomb is going with it. But this is no where near safe, nothing’s stopping the building from buckling with you in it. As you stop and weigh your decision the constant sounds of the burning scrap metal does little to cure your doubts, neither does the damp trail of fetid blood leading to the door. It smells of sulfur. What’s the plan? How do you spend the rest of your allotted time. >Head into the wrecked shed to get your gear >Attempt to scrap the salvage atop the shed [RISK CRUSHING GEAR]>Take the solar panels down and head back inside>Leave the solar panels up and try to hide them to the best of your ability Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
Apologies for the time it took for the update everyone this was a big one. Glad everyone’s been patient and invested so far
>>6005513>Head inside the shed>Take the solar panels downJust need to be quick about it.
>>6005513I am concerned that making a big junk pile around our door will just mean that people are drawn to come and dig through it and find the bunker, so maybe we should leave one of the solar panels out in the open by the shed so the eye of any scavenger is naturally drawn to it.>Take down solar panels>Leave one by shed>Briefly grab some gear from shed while there
>>6005513Also, you should post this update in the /QTG/, QM. I'm sure the new fancy art will get some people in.
In the vast expanse of the void, amidst the cold steel corridors of his transport vessel, the nameless soldier of Krieg stands sentinel, his form shrouded in the dim glow of flickering lumens. Around him, the rhythmic hum of machinery intermingles with the distant echoes of comrades preparing for the impending descent into the crucible of war. His eyes, devoid of fear or hesitation, reflect the unyielding resolve of a warrior bred for conflict.As the ship hurtles through the void towards the besieged hive world of Haeloria Prime, the soldier finds solace in the familiar routines of war. With each passing moment, the anticipation builds, mingling with the ever-present dread that accompanies any campaign in the Emperor's name. Yet, amidst the clamor of preparation and the weight of his duty, the soldier remains steadfast, a silent guardian of the Imperium's righteous cause. For in the heart of darkness, amidst the howling void and the whispers of the warp, his unyielding loyalty shall be the beacon that guides him through the coming storm.
>>6004444As R-1134 emerges from the smoldering wreckage of his destroyed lander, the battlefield stretches out before him like a landscape torn from the nightmares of the damned. The sprawling hive city looms in the distance, a sprawling labyrinth of towering spires and crumbling hab blocks. Around him, the charred remains of fallen comrades litter the scarred earth, their lifeless forms a grim testament to the ferocity of the battle.Barbed wire coils like serpents amidst the churned mud, while hastily constructed trenches and dugouts scar the landscape like open wounds. The air is thick with the acrid stench of smoke and burning ozone, punctuated by the distant crackle of las-fire and the thunderous roar of exploding ordnance.Amidst the chaos, a non-commissioned officer of the Astra Militarum emerges from the shadows, his voice hoarse with urgency as he points towards a nearby bunker, its gun emplacement spewing out a relentless hail of lead. "Silence that bunker, soldier!" he bellows, his words lost amidst the cacophony of battle. With a grim nod, R-1134 shoulders his lasgun and sets off towards the bunker, his heart pounding in his chest as he prepares to confront the enemy alone amidst the swirling chaos of war.
>>6005269As R-1134 quickly surveys the field of fire, 3 options stand out to him as places he could shelter. -The Trench-The Burnt out tank-A crumbling concrete hab block
>>6005284>> The burnt out TankPerfect place to get some cover without being artillery shelled, or dealing with enemy soldiers and dying prematurely.
>>6005284>The TrenchHome is where the trench is. Get in there abd start clearing things out.
>>6005269>-The TrenchMaybe we could dig a shortcut
Welcome to Cultural Civ, a civ game where your civilization's culture shifts with time !players control a civilization through the years and decide its explorations, cultural and technological advancements, and diplomacy.how to play:1) choose a civ to play for. change your name to reflect your choice (ex: Chin Scratcher).2)each turn, your civ has 2 actions. You can choose between cultural, technological, or a (freeform) special action, but you cannot do the same action twice in the same turn. 3)discuss with your compatriots which actions you will take. Once you're done, reply to my recap anchor post with the recap of your actions.Five civilizations are recent arrivals on this island, each for their own reasons. Their future on this place is still ahead of them. Where will you lead them?I will now list the civs. Feel free to join any of them at any time!
>>6005006I'm >>6005199Yes let's look for signs of civilization, perhaps we can create forms of natural energy by channeling the natural materials we come across. After, fire is pretty much the rosetta stone of all forms of electricity. I might write some civ-comm guidelines such as:1. Don't attack people.2. Wait until she gives you a clear sign of consent.Etc. etc. and so on.
>>6005175Khan Jr. berry smart. Khan Agree!
>>6005199Your posts read like ChatGPT drivel.>>6005006>>6004921I can support these for turn 1, move south along the coast two-three turns before turning inland and moving to the northern coast abd then circling back to our drop off point. We'll hopefully find something along that route.I would like to take two culture actions in the future to make us expert tinkerers aswell. We need to be able to properly maintain our vehicles, plus it could help us repair any lost tech we find on our journey.
>>6005445I'm already started on a model for time travel after determining the necessary value to target significant identity so that we can quick travel/teleport via compressing existence into a comprehensive vacuum of our combined mapped out knowledge to target an entity and relocate their sig-val to another, known location.
>>6005100GOOD idea
06 – 28 – 1999 | SOUTH SIAM | WEEK 1Your last patient fidgets on the exam table, sun-weathered hands thumbing through a chain of jaap maala prayer beads with practiced dexterity. Her daughter watches you with eyes that are a measure too sharp for her age. Dark pupils scan across your face for traces of ill-intent – an instinct that has barely mellowed over their past few visits. “Red. Skip days….and the blue, take daily?”She runs her finger down the page as she translates for her mother – speaking in a south Asian language you cannot easily identify. “Yes. Remember to finish the entire pack. Macrolide with a modified bacteriophage booster. Reds and blues.”She nods. “…her cough?” she asks.You consider your answer carefully. “It’s a new strain, but she should still improve with time. If your mother isn’t doing better within a week, come back as soon as you can.”Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6005139Oops. Thanks for the reminder anon!
>>6005268>SOMETHING FRAGMENTED. There is something you wish to say – a burning question about yourself or this place. Medicine is a fragmented door, and you wonder if it will lead you to a conclusion that you do not wish to comprehend.Our guy is searching for something - but what? He didn't find it in genecrafting, but maybe he'll find it in medicine?
>>6005268>SOMETHING FRAGMENTED. There is something you wish to say – a burning question about yourself or this place. Medicine is a fragmented door, and you wonder if it will lead you to a conclusion that you do not wish to comprehend.
>>6005268>>SOMETHING DEFIANT. There is nothing you wish to say. Medicine is a science and a trade. You and others like you have pared open the flesh and mind of man and found nothing beyond blood and muscle and bone and fat.
>>6005268>SOMETHING DEFIANT
You are a mothman. You have a gun. As an Agent of the Company, you know exactly what must be done and are willing to do whatever it takes to complete the Mission. The City is calling. Glory and Terror await.Last Thread: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5776609/===================================In the City, in a split second, time changes. The anger inside goes away and you are finally able to see clearly now. Everything slows down. You trace the slight shift of the RED Leader's revolver from you to the dying Captain in the murk of the tunnel. Second hands relinquish their wicked weapons now unwanted, scrabble for the BIG IRON at your hip, and instantaneously take aim.BLAM!The telltale power of the BREAKER BULLET violently twists your steady aim apart but oh it is glorious to behold. The entire storm drain is illuminated by the tremendous muzzle flash like the midnight sun and a bright white light devours everything. You see nothing, feel only the recoil.You hate that.Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
MASS GRAVE: (the white chamber OST - Something stinks [Living Room Fridge]) https://youtu.be/0-pxkeLxTgMFiltered through the hellish monochrome green of your NVG goggles, the elevator shaft is filled with corpses.Body parts piled on top of each other, one after the other, like so much trash discarded into the sewers and cast into the depths. Buckets and coolers filled to the brim with infected arms, legs, organs, then thrown down here with the rest. Little pieces of little people, intestines unwinding in the endless murk. No identification. No features. No purpose. Nameless bodies in an unremembered room. On a woman's leg stitched onto a large man's torso reads the tag "NOT ECONOMICALLY VIABLE." Very slightly underneath, you see the signature "ALETH ZOBEL".You're very glad that the seals of the armored wetsuit still hold. Even now the relentless stench of decay threatens to melt your face off.[CRUELTY] You've seen worse.There's movement across the pile. You take cover, shifting limbs as you skitter away.Beams of light flash across the walls. Thin and flickering. Footsteps approach. The encroaching darkness is suffocating here, so relentless and so hopeless that even the Gray men must return to the light.You'd laugh if these Ghouls weren't aware of your presence.Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6005300>SEARCH THE PILE. Focus on recovering the Sanitech corpses. (INSTINCT Check: Medium. Beating the DC with a higher margin of success means a quieter, swifter search.)>START CHOPPING. Melee time. (FORCE Check: Easy. Beating the DC with a higher margin of success means a quieter, swifter takedown.)
>>6005306+1I like to make a silent takedown
>>6005306+1
>>6005300>You should extract yourself NOW! Before the others arrive...
Beep. Slide. Bag.Beep. Slide. Bag.Beep. Slide. Bag.“Ma’am. Ma’am.” Your eyes slowly drift up. The just past middle age woman jerks back as the full weight of your ‘two years of college debt and nothing to show for it’ dead stare drives into her. Alas, the just past middle age woman’s eyes do not begin to pour blood, and her face twists.Beep. Slide. Bag.You grunt, and the woman accepts that this might be the limit of your vocabulary.“Ma’am. Miss. Those eggs. Those eggs were on sale, miss.”Beep. Slide. Bag. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6005023>Browse VoteBot. If you skip the first five pages of reposted memes and political screeching you might find something.
>>6005028>>6005029>>6005109>>6005236Between customers and during your break you dig through image boards. You hit the up the paranormal sections first, finding little besides the usual mix of ghost stories and fringe religions. It's on a generic request board where you find something interesting, someone asking for advice on dealing with unusually clever animals. They upload a few pictures of animal tracks, and a snippet of video footage. Other posters call it out as fake, but you recognize the eyeless mangled form, even though this one is a lot bigger. Apparently it keeps disturbing the posters trash, circumvented locks and lids, anytime fish are thrown out in the trash. Maybe you could set a trap?You survive the rest of the workday.> Home. Sleep. God you're tired.> Where does a person find fish that doesn't cost a fortune?> If you're going after these things you probably ought to prepare...somehow?
>>6005432>Where does a person find fish that doesn't cost a fortune?
>>6005432>> Where does a person find fish that doesn't cost a fortune?Walmart sardines packed in water?
>>6005432> Home. Sleep. God you're tired.We can't hunt demon dogs tired
Death.It is regarded as the ultimate arbitrator of the end. The finality in which what perishes, must begone and move from the bones of the Earth. All energy is lulled into cessation. All lively pangs meet their final beat. All throes of darkness take ahold.You, however.. for reasons of either sorrow, regret, arrogance, spite or pure happenstance.. find yourself bereft of a deathly finality. From death itself, you will be "rebirthed" into a new existence beyond anything you could have possibly imagined in your living hours.—————————————In the early half of the 20th century, the entire world has been engulfed in the web-tangles of European spheres of influence or outright control. Under the screen of feigned cordiality for the sake of appearances, every major power in Europe is in fear of any pronounced movement from their rivals. Alliances form, and from them emerge two blocs poised for war: one being the Allied Powers composed of the British Empire, France, and Imperial Russia; the other deemed as the Central Powers, comprised of the German Empire, Austria-Hungarian Empire, and the ever-ailing Ottoman Empire. All this came to a head, when in the 28th of June 1914, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir-presumptive to the Austro-Hungarian throne, was assassinated by the politically radicalized Serbian Gavrilo Princip. Immediately afterward sprung out the July crisis. By the end of that event, almost all of the major European powers were at war with one another. The War to End all Wars had begun. —————————————Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6005418>Your father was exposed as a traitor that was feeding information to the Russian Empire. He was executed, but you, your mother, and extended family managed to escape away to Saints Peterburg. You straddle the line between the disgrace of having a traitor father and being an alien among a new set of peers you barely understand.
>>6005418>Write-InYou attended the magical school of witch craft called Hogwash, you had an easy life due to the fact that your parents are rich because they were actually also assassins killing nobility for a high price of course. Even though that is true the other kids still made fun of you because you had a crocked nose, you took that after your mother
>>6005418>>Your father is fired from the Austrian council due to rampant incompetence but manages to wiggle himself into the military echelons of the Empire as a newly minted officer. Much of your childhood is moving base-to-base with no set stability at all.
>>6005418>You had a fairly average well-privileged life as an Austrian noble. You often visited an entreated with the royal family. Along with that, you were tutored fairly decently by the various itinerant scholars and diplomats of the royal court.
They had arrived only a few hours earlier, with news that were barely a few days old, yet there was a hubbub in the palace, rumors were already abound. Many Fire Sages were, after all, nobles from the many aristocratic families of the Fire Nation, and they spread the news before it was officially relayed to the Fire Lord.And it was their task to give him the news. Not an enviable one, as the news were dire for the Fire Nation. When they entered the Fire Lord’s palace room, they were met with silence, save for the roaring flames of Ozai’s throne.He sat there, not facing them. They knew his fury, it was quiet now, but it could swallow them like a dragon at any time.“My lord.” The eldest spoke, all three knelt.“You bring me news.” Ozai said. “And hearing the filthy cowardice emanating from your voices, they are not good.”“The statues of the Avatar Temple shone with great light two days ago.” The eldest heard his voice crack from fear. “That… that means…”The flames of his throne blazed. Fury. Pure, unbridled fury. On that day, the eldest missed the times of Azulon the most. Ozai rose.“The Avatar has returned.” He said as he turned around, a stare as cold as ice looked over his kneeling servants. “Who knows?”Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6005187Well I mean obviously but I meant random in Azula doesn't know her rather than she isn't important at all. As for peasant, I meant she is very low on the pyramid rather than a literal peasant as evidenced by> Her dark brown eyes pry into yours for that instant, their darker shade indicating low birthRegardless I was bored and just wanted to make up a justification for why she wouldn't just straight up give at least a smart ass answer. I don't got any issues with the questions anon put up so far except for the "Now I'm not so sure" one which is wayyy too soon in the character ark for her to be saying outloud I feel like.
>>6005081Honestly I really don't see Azula truly carrying those beliefs based on classism considering her opinions regarding various members of the nobility, her own family, and the highly competent friends she has. Rather than a basis of classism, Azula has always struck me more as someone who's interested in peoples competency and capacity to serve her, everything else was secondary.
>>6005041>Answer her question.Power, obviously, but also control. A fire spread without meaning is just a waste of energy, while even a spark is quite useful in the right place and time.
>>6005041>Stop her dead in her tracks. Only you get to make questions.
>>6005041>Answer her question.
Since previous thread diededed:Welcome to Standard Fantasy Nation Builder. First, start with providing description of your future nation.Fill this in:>Name:>Leader's name:>Race(s):>Color(for if/when I get a map):>General location:(mountains, jungle, plains, ocean, lake, etc. More detailed the better I can make a map..maybe)>Fluff about nation:>Fluff about leader:>General magic practises or other speciality (for a magic-related bonus, can be replaced with tech or situational bonus, too, so it doesn't have to be magic, but make it ONE)Don't fill this in:Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
Rolled 33, 48, 93 = 174 (3d100)>>6004904Hark! A map!TURNS 62>Population: 10000>Power level: 2>Tech Level: 1>Bonus:Crafting +10Hard Labor +5>BuildingComment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6004984Whoops, that was supposed to be turn 63 I think?
TURN 63>>6004984>Silver Guardians1) A stall is just that - a stall. It's not going to run away anyhow (7/9)2,3) The new, grand capital of the Guardians is ready. Each important place is provided with a proper housing. A net of roads and walk-ways is designed in such a way, golems can pass around freely with the heaviest loads and minimal risk of causing damage. The splendid architecture adds sense of greatness to the new seat of Guardians' power, incorporating the Vault's grand entrance to the surrounding buildings>Other[X, the Guardian's Capital]4 Well-Planned City (1/1)2 Spacious Lot (1/1)>Give this place a name instead of an XTURN 64>>6004966Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>Population: 99400>Military:3 Worker Swarms [Militia]2 Soldier-Workers +0.6 [Large]1 Spitter Ants +2 [Art] [Exp]1 Giant Ant [Big] [Armor]>Power level: 1>Tech Level: 1>Bonus: Population Growth modifier>Tech[Dinosaur Domestication I][Tools I][Smelting I][Construction I][Strong Bodies]Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
Rolled 94, 100, 64, 8, 2, 54, 19, 34 = 375 (8d100)>>6005088Turns 62-631-7. MORE CONSCRIPTION (III)!The Empress demands an army. The greatest army the world has ever seen, one that will build the Imperia into greater heights unheard of. That, and armies are good at occupying territory. And we would like more territory too."No more shall we march one by one, or two by two. But sound a thunderous hurrah as we march by the thousands!"8. Bigger Nurseries! 11/12>Apply Magic Relay
Past Threadshttps://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=Olympus+Incarnation+Quest>Rentry masterlink, includes character sheets, shop information, inventory, and general informationhttps://rentry.org/olympus-quest-links>Popularity Contest Round 2https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1k-rC03K-K6zUXKf_PV9p1IA8WJeoItsSzgL7caC1XrIA couple months ago, the world changed forever.Individuals worldwide began manifesting the qualities of various figures- gods, spirits, heroes, beasts, and monsters- from Greek mythos. The system that caused and continues to facilitate this phenomenon is shrouded in mystery, both in how it functions and why it began its activities when it did.The protagonist of this tale is the incarnation of Atë, a minor goddess in the grand scheme of Greek mythology, who causes and presides over folly and ruin. She, formerly a miserable but ultimately normal office worker, has since accepted her role as the embodiment of her <Myth>. She, along with her partner in crime, the incarnation of Pheme, titan of rumors and gossip, have been working to expand their influence and stack the deck in their favor against not only mortals, but also rival incarnations. In her own eyes, she is no longer human. Her ultimate goal- the elimination of all rival incarnations and, eventually, complete and total world domination.Atë, preparing to face off against the more powerful incarnations that rule over their swathes of the world, finds herself at an auction of aspiring divinities, hoping to find allies, tools, servants, and abilities to sufficiently increase her divine might.
>>6004706>"What caused it? What got you to the point the system chose you?"As well as what >>6004729 said. Is this the making of a true ally like Pheme, and not a minion?
good to have you back, and thanks for fixing the formating thing I asked you last thread.>>6004706>"Do you have a sponsor?">"You know, like, in the renaissance, some rich guy would sponsor an artist, provide them with fancy pigments and all the paintbrushes they need while only occasionally asking them to paint a ceiling where the dudes have their dick out.">"You could do your own shit and be mostly left alone by the rest of the world.">offer connections>>We have access to mortal money>>We have people that can get us easy nectar>offer epithets>>We have in the order of magnitude more epithets around than we know what to do with immediately and are wondering what would happen if an epithet holder is used as an enchanting ingredient.>offer human test subjects>offer humans who do his captchas for him because god damn, it's the fourth timeComment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6004706>>6004729>>6004731+1 supporting these two.Don't want a pact atm, would rather have something closer to an equal and an ally if possible.
>>6004706>>Let him talk
>>6004706>Ask him a questionWhere do you see yourself, when this divine power struggle for the world is resolved?
they said I would have to Pastebin the lewd stuff but /ss/ is based and let the die be cast motherfuckers. Or we can skip it. If the majority of you want this safe for work that's cool. But will kind of miss the point of the harem stuff. This is like Ultra Sun and Moon in that it takes place in an alternate telling of the games...where in the timeline? Find out yourself!>You are a 13 year old wannabe Pokemon Trainer. You've basically been ripping off shit you've seen online and on tv and you've been training Pokemon you've chanced by throughout your life till this point. Very close to your Pokemon bros. Not so much with your peers. But nonetheless. You haven't been able to go on a Pokemon journey as home and school obligations sadly prevented it thus far. Which is more common then you think. Pick your trainer type. This will determine, along with your region, what your starting team is. You can pick Pokemon common to your region but no psuedo, rare, legendary or starter Pokemon that doesn't fall into the 3 type specific Pokemon. If your Pokemon will gain the typing later in evolution you may choose it as a pick. For example you can pick Torchic as a Pokemon for Martial Autist's Fighting type slot. You can also pick two pokemon of the same type if they match the separate type slot. Aron for Steel and Geodude for Rock for Martial Autist. You can also pick from any region and can choose pseudos or rares if necessary for your type slot. No two same Pokemon. THIS INCLUDES EEVEE. ONE EEVEE LIMIT! NO LEGENDARIES AT ALL! Common mons are shit like Buneary, Growlithe, Zubat, Bidoof and the like that are found in common areas and not super rare. Rare Pokemon are shit like Feebas, Togepi, and Dhelmise as well as Starters. And Psuedos are basically dragon types...At this point they are anyway...This uses anime logic so all Pokemon are kino picks anyway. You can pick up to a first stage in evolutions. For example Ivysaur or Golbat or shit like Scizor or Gyarados...but what region ARE you from? >First reponse will pick but in the future the post with the closest end digit to mine per post will pick when I get back. For now it's a hesitation is defeat situation since I don't know if this will even GET anon attention.>And no you can't be an Alolan native moved out from there.
>>6003996By the way, GM instructs that if you "wanna finish the match the lineup is Simipour and Simisear."
>>6003996That's what you get for not giving a Meowth.>>6003721Incinerate.
>>6003996Did he really?What saucy pictures did he drop?
Rolled 29 (1d100)>>6003996Source?>>6003721Support for incineration
>>6004139>>6004198GM wanted to provide more proof. He's "lurking the thread to make sure it doesn't get deleted." As for his offense, I'm not at liberty to say.
[MARS 21st, 1490, SUNDAY, MORNING//ELMYCION CASTLE CITY//THE EVE OF THE TOURNAMENT]Elmycion, an already bustling province in the northeast of the Wymund regime. Set upon the path of pilgrims early on a long journey to holy lands in the east, near enough to the borderlands for its major city to serve as the hub of trade, and rich with history for the myriad lords of Wymund or other kingdoms that have besieged, ruled over, and died for the region.Here, in and around the city that acts as the castle’s outer shell, a grand tournament is to be held. Organized by the kingdom of Wymund to celebrate the separatist knights who overcame the old empire and founded the illustrious kingdom, overseen by House Hayner, the current heritors of Elmycion’s beauty, it is a tournament of a different breed. The spectacle is not to settle feuds between lords, or merely provide entertainment for commonfolk. It is said to be more of a reenactment. Mock battles, fought by royal and noble orders of Wymund and those invited from lands beyond. In the grand battle that took place here, knights of warring factions came to respect their equalized strength and resolve, and joined forces against corrupt kings and their levied armies. Historians speak wistfully of how a new social class was born, then and there. While commonfolk beam at the hyperbolic rumors of a dragon slain during the battle long ago…Those knights realized they had a connection that could not be realized by language or race. Steel was their language. Honor was their blood. Could such an unspoken bond truly exist within the hearts of warriors…?
>>6004597You recognize from way up watching the streets the major data points of the city. You’ve always called yourself simple minded, but it seems in your boredom you did end up grasping such a concept as population density. People are congregating around various points of the city to spectate and engage in tournament side-venues, an appetizer to tomorrow’s events. You also spy a number of moving specs along the rooftops, near the city square punctuated by the Saint Hendricks Cathedral. Mass has just ended, and the square has been closed as they ready it for the Grandmasters’ joust to take place at high noon. You need considerable status or a ticket to get an actual audience seat to the joust, Nora told you that once, but she also told you that the best seats in the city were not the crowded stands or even the boxes designated for attendees of importance. The best viewing angle with the least amount of surrounding chaos is the rooftops. You watch some of the rooftop specs begin pursuing another pair of them, until they disappear into the streets below, becoming indistinguishable from the rest of the rabble. Perhaps those were guards of the city, chasing away would-be freeloaders.You glance up at Nora, who seemed to be watching the same thing. She sighs with a hint of sarcasm. “Those fools, you can’t set up just anywhere… I know places with the perfect views of all the tourney’s best events… Sir Milo? Won’t you let me show them to you?”“Of course, Lady Hayner. Let’s get moving, but first…” You turn toward the door and give a shrill whistle.“What? What the hell is it!? Didn’t I tell you to shut up back there?” The guard once again barks. “Just letting you know, I’m going to be taking a nap. Wake me at your own peril.” You feign a yawn.“Like I care! Did you really have to alert me for that? You may have a guest room but that doesn’t mean you’re a guest!”Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6004667[MARS 21st, 1490, SUNDAY, MORNING//ELMYCION CASTLE, OBSERVATION HALL//METZEN, GRANDMASTERS’ BREAKFAST]You wonder what awaits you beyond these doors…The foyer leading to the observation hall is adorned with lesser pieces from House Hayner’s collection of art. You come to understand, from the plaques of each, that none of these pieces originate from within Elmycion. For Elmycion, is a city of spolia.Spolia. The taking of pieces from an olden structure to aid in the construction of a new one. The word has a much different meaning than something like “recycle.” To use recycled material is to use the broken down foundation of something, a redundant support beam or brick perhaps, and utilize it with full efficiency for the construction of something new. To use spoliated material is to use the architectural hallmarks of a historical moment, an arch of an emperor you’ve overthrown perhaps, and display it with full intent to evoke the memory or idea in your new project. It’s not a practice native to Wymund, the late rulers of the old and long dead Kyran Empire were the originators. But it’s one that Lord Hayner has taken a shining to. The clashing opulence and lack of a single discernible philosophy that binds these works together pisses you off. It reminds you of your father, and a section of your mind awakened by the return of your niece pipes up suddenly: it reminds you of Micah. You know the thought is completely unfair, petty even. You push it back down to silence. But you won’t forget thinking it.Your name is Metzen Cecil. You are not the heir to House Cecil. You do not want to be the heir to House Cecil. Even if every other surviving member of the bloodline were to disappear, you wouldn’t dare sit upon the throne of any manor, let alone a castle or palace. You’re no child, you’re rugged, strong, true, you see things as they are and you have no desire to enter any sort of political ring. You’d only be hurting people you can’t even see. Leading a fraternal order is the way for you. A just cause, a life on the run from who-knows-what, and none of the cognitive dissonance that comes with the machine of court.Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6004749“Sir?” Asks the boy. Alfredo, or something, you’ve forgotten the name again. You don’t make a habit of remembering names of people you don’t like. You remember the names of all of your Storks. You remember the name Gerald Hayner because he spent a great deal of money and favor to the royal court to make sure you remembered it. You’d like to get this over with and not have to think about that smug fucking bastard anymore.“Sir, you seem troubled. Shall we go inside? Some merriment for your worries?” He asks again.“That’s exactly what I don’t want to do…” You hang with your mouth open, you felt cool not remembering the liaison’s name, now you kind of feel like an asshole. “Alphonse.”“Ah, yes, that’s exactly what I don’t want to do, Alphonse. But I suppose enough’s enough…”Alphonse smiles, with that same “how did I do?” sort of expression he wore after his puzzling little demonstration at your encampment. Maybe, he’s not so bad. Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>6004786>Stand off to the side to begin with, and converse some with Alphonse. Maybe he knows what‘s up, despite lacking status.
>>6004794(Locking in vote for speaking with Alphonse some. I’ll get to writing in an hour, gotta stave off this headache.)(Just a quick announcement. I’ve run the numbers. I’ve grossly underestimated the length of this. Consider the status of this quest as a oneshot VERY tentative. I suspect there will be at least one if not two more threads after this.)
Daemon Blackfyre lies dead upon Redgrass field, together with two of his sons. With them, dies the first Blackfyre Rebellion. These are the days when peace once more returns to the seven kingdoms, the days when the brave and true fell in battle, and left behind the embittered and mournful.King Daeron II 'The Good' Targaryen owes his victory over his half-brother to his two sons and another half-brother, together with two Valeman, one a knight of the kingsguard and the other the Lord of the Eyrie. The seven kingdoms are as united as they'll ever be; Targaryen rule has been secured once more, and peace reigns throughout the land.But not all is well; rebellious lords have had their lands stripped and hostages taken in an effort to maintain order and compliance.Across the narrow sea, Aegor Bittersteel lurks with a growing army of exiles, including the remaining members of House Blackfyre. But for now, an uneasy, bitter peace hangs over the realm.You are in mourning as well, for your lord father has fallen as well. Whether it was at Redgrass Field or some other battle, the histories would not remember. But it does leave you the lord of a minor house.But where?>In the WesterlandsComment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>Yes, my purple eyes and pale blonde hear have been the source of many turned heads.>The blood of the first men still flows strong, a son of Blackfork is typcally of stocky build with broad shoulders and dark brown hair
>>6004768+1
>>6004756>Yes, my purple eyes and pale blonde hear have been the source of many turned heads.>We still take after the Andals, we are typcally and lighthaired, with strawblond hair.
>>6004768+1 I like the quest so far
