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I almost forgot I meant to start this today! But it's still today for me so it's okay. pls

This thread is a continuation of chapter four, but as there are only a few updates remaining in it I didn't want to qualify it as its own part. Instead, I will finish chapter four and afterward post the interlude chapter (which hopefully won't be too ridiculous a length, but which I think is better served here, despite being a more traditional story [no player input] for archive and consolidation purposes, than a nameless pastebin) to end the thread. Chapter five will begin according to the normal schedule, in line with the monthly manga release. Thanks for your patience this past week.

Previous threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=houseki
While you contemplate running off to Jet's aid, Cuprite gets close to the violent appendage, eyeing the yellow-orange fragments embedded in it.

"Wait, Cuprite let me help."

You wait for it to stop thrashing. Cuprite, much harder than yourself, keeps ready to try and stop it clamping down, and you reach in to grab a piece, all at once tugging it away. It sways in tantrum, almost catching you in its aimless fit, but it calms down after a moment. Those fits last shorter each time, trading between snatching out the pieces. Eventually a reactive flinch is all that's left, and you safely pull around the skin in search of stone splinters.

Soon there are none left to be found, and the creature's manner is calmed, until another roar sparks its action. From just outside the school, the second creature's trumpet ignites the first again, and free of the shards sunk into its skin, it pulls harder to remove it from the wooden cuff. The beams bend inward and break open, letting it free. Kyanite dives out of the way when he realizes that it's turning around. It runs toward the front, hardly taking the time to feel past obstacles, and hitting many.

"No, w-wait come back, I wasn't done looking!"

Despite running ahead, the beast isn't making so much headway that it's impossible to keep up, and you're quickly close behind it just as it bursts from the front and falls into the pool, splashing water onto everyone gathered around. It clambers, clinging to the side and kicking its round legs underwater.

Uvarovite waves from atop the other creature, not charging nor stepping on any otherwise occupied brainiacs. Kongo and Malaya stand either side of it. This one, although in physicality it seems more or less same as the other, if not a bit smaller, has more frivolous decorations. A sheet made from loops of sparkling cut stones of every color hangs from its tusks, and over its back a similar coat of pearls and intricate weaving.

Kyanite comes stomping from the foyer and points to the half submerged one. "Get that out of there, that fabric is getting water damaged!"

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"I believe the danger has passed, we should now recoup. Antozonite, I see Jacinth was broken, has anybody else been hurt?"

He's tall.

It's an odd thing to think, since you've been near him your whole life, but it's the way he's standing. Growing so accustomed to his image and how he moves, his slight change in posture is only more apparent: tensed, shoulders lowered but no more than a half inch, neck bent but not more than a degree. To anyone else, still perfect posture. To you, dejection. There's something else, too. Not a definite memory of it, at the least you can tell you haven't really seen this before, but it's a faint feeling as if you have. Lignite's? It feels different.

"Y-yes. Jet's leg was broken inside. He's still awake. I can show Opal."

"Please do, the rest of us will stay and collect Jacinth's pieces."

You call Opal over and vanish into the school, leaving the feeling of the allusion to a memory of a memory behind. Cuprite comes trotting past with an armful of sunflower golden shards, and Kyanite the opposite way toward the stairs, with his own armful of dancing decorations and fabrics. Jet lay just where he was before, leaning exactly as he had against the stones beneath the ocean, opening his eyes and gifting you charity to his resting. His soft smile bridges across the hairline canyon splitting his face.

"Figured it out?"

"Yeah, Sensei got it done."

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Only months ago, you were a mere human farm-boy, but now, you are a wizard, a being of unmatched arcane potential. You've traveled to Trunik, a lawless mining town, to acquire fresh vegetables and reliable tools, and after negotiating mutual gain for secrecy with an elven antiquarian, you've gotten more than you'd bargained for. Already, you've enchanted six pick-axes, each of them worth as much, if not more than your cabin in gold, and received the gift of the Seer's Sight Obscurer, a mysterious stone which hides your arcane aura from prying eyes.

At the moment, you find yourself in the Jester's Fling, a relatively high-class establishment, for no other reason than to satisfy your curiosity. You're approaching a table to interject in an adventuring party's conversation with a visibly shaken peasant, and judging by the annoyed sighs, harsh glares, and calloused hands resting on handles, you get the impression your interference isn't welcome.

> Roll three 4d20 for the Adventuring Party's composition and temperament

Here's the character sheet, for reference. Let me know if anything's missing.

> The Wizard

> Magical Skills:
> Enchantment 3
> Geomancy 1

> Mundane Skills:

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Going alone will be boring. I want a cute owl familiar.
Rolled 20, 1, 8, 10 = 39 (4d20)

Is this good or bad
Rolled 18, 2, 3, 8 = 31 (4d20)

I'm here
Rolled 17, 13, 12, 16 = 58 (4d20)


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aka "Marty Stu plays soccer"

Previous threads :

Characters :

Brief summary :
You are Jordan Key, an american soccer player from Cincinnnati.
At the age of 17, you surprised everyone by showing some serious skills in an otherwise forgettable game ; you quickly became one of the most promising youngsters of the country. At the age of 18, you brought Cincinnati to the Premier Development League playoffs final, only to loose at the end of a stressful penalty shootouts. Your performances were incredible, and after your 19th anniversary, you were recruited by Bangor City, a team from Wales.

Despite being far away from home, you like this place. Your neighbours are cool and you made some friends. Regarding your career, the head coach used you as a substitute most of the time, but you slowly became more and more important, until you made it to the starting eleven. At the end of the season, you managed to finish at the 1st place of the championship, and qualify for the Champion's League.

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Congratulations to South Africa for winning the World Cup!

"Are you into the same hobbies ?"
"Not really. I like the way she cooks, but otherwise I just leave her alone. Personally, I'm into chinese culture."
"What do you mean ?"
"Their philosophy, their traditions, their beliefs, their medecine...it's just so fascinating."

> "Are you into anime ?"
> "How do you even practice that hobby ?"
> "Hey I'm also into asian culture, especially their porn"
> "That cool, tell me more about it."

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>"That cool, tell me more about it."
> "That cool, tell me more about it."
I think it would be cool if we got a rival character, like that dude from Thunder Bay

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Fleet Admiral Miranda Eagles sat quietly on the bridge. None of the officers or technicians were speaking, not even to count down the time till exiting Higgs-Lee space. A dozen other warp-class ships trailed behind the Loki, including two troop carriers large enough for the Loki to dock inside. Even to that instant, there were surely hundreds of sergeants barking orders to thousands of soldiers that still hadn't booted up, strapped in, and made peace with their trepidation. As far as they knew, in the next few minutes, the entire fleet was about to come burning into real-space at a few percent C, guns blazing and ready to end the war.

For three months they had been living in the ships like camps, passing the time it took to leap from Earth to Romu. There was a war to be ended, and they were all there to break the back of the Rhinos. No one had announced to the general populace that the measurements had been tracking wrong, that the correlation between real-space mass distortion signatures and Higgs-Lee gradient rate should have been flat out impossible. It had taken centuries to make the theory necessary for super-luminal travel, but once it was distilled down to the hands of engineers, the algorithm was very simple. It also said the ships could not be moving as quickly as they were moving.

Mira had considered breaking the leap, but that would have been a death sentence for everyone. The only rational explanation was sabotage, which meant this war was likely as good as lost now. The sheer amount of time it would take for Earth to discover their failed gambit would be the deathblow. The priority now was keeping as many of her men alive as possible, and dropping out at random was riskier than exiting wherever the Rhino's had sent them. That's all there was to it really.

"How's our skip charge looking?" Mira asked, rubbing a hole into the arm of her chair with her thumb.

"The engine's charged," Membrant answered, popping open a display-holo in front of himself. The old soldier moved with the kind of grace recruits could only envy. "We still don't have much of a reading on how much mass we'll be exiting near. The noise has only gotten worse as we've approached."

"Dead space minimum?" She knew the answer.

"Point Five AU for us," he answered. "Zero for Jormungandr I and II."
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>We have an encountered a UFO, and so, you are needed.
[blue]For your reference, unofficial First Contact occured some time near 2200 ad, when several alien relics were recovered under classified circumstances. The resulting analysis led to many scientific breakthroughs. To date, no human government has established relations with an alien entity.[/blue]

"We're not at Romu, and it looks like Gunthar has a UFO splattered across the side of his ship like a bug. I need you on hand," Mira answered, crossing her arms under her chest and watching as the words sunk into Weaver.

He laughed. "You're kidding right? Admiral you don't need to hunor my position like this. I suppose I'm flattered, but we jumped entirely within human space. I'm useless."

"Our jump was pulled off course. We still haven't found a star map match. We are in unknown space with unidentified ships. You are needed Mr. Weaver."

She could have parked a ship in the gape of his mouth. "I will be ready in five minutes..."

"Main Deck," Mira said, then closed the door between them.

>[i]Well he's a mess. I should probably just go back to the deck anyways and check on the communications?
the phone posting punishment is real
I'm calling it a night, if any of you have complaints or criticisms, now would be a good time to lay them out.
We should really have the ship AI's and Specialists crunching through not just the encryption on the communications and trying to correlate the stars we can see with what stars we know to come up with a location for us, but also try to have Okajima work out how we got sabotaged.

Also, what do the FCP say we do when not only do we make First Contact, but that the aliens are fully unfettered AI?

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"C'mon, kid. Up and at 'em."

This is your life now. A rock thrown at your head wakes you up just enough that you can begin living the rest of your life out, ruining what was likely the last peaceful rest of your life.

You don't remember much about what it used to be, other than that your name is Stone (or at least, that's what you think it is), and that you're a gladiator. A rookie gladiator, and today is your first match.

Right now is your first match, even. You quickly throw on clothes, a white, sleeveless top and sports shorts that make it easy to move in, and flex your right arm a couple of times to ensure it's willing to work with you today. Your trainer gives the leash attached to you a harsh tug, and you're out of the cage, following behind him.

You and him don't talk a lot - you don't remember talking to him a lot, anyway, although he seems chatty today for whatever reason. You ignore him, at least, until he pushes you against a door that slides open just for you, and out into the arena.

You look at your arm and give your hand a squeeze. Today, either you, or your opponent, dies.

Choose your Weapon
>Right Arm of Diamonds - Your right arm can generate a sword at a whim, one per minute. Currently, you can only create one-handed shortswords. Swords you create are magically heavy for anyone besides yourself, making them nearly impossible to be used.
>Right Arm of Spades - Your right arm can easily destroy specifically rocks and concrete. For all other purposes, it is merely an arm.

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>>Right Arm of Diamonds - Your right arm can generate a sword at a whim, one per minute. Currently, you can only create one-handed shortswords. Swords you create are magically heavy for anyone besides yourself, making them nearly impossible to be used.
The most versatile ofc
>>Right Arm of Hearts - You gain 5 punches powerful enough to level a small building. Using a punch will break one of your fingers until the next sunrise. You can stack multiple punches into one.
>Right Arm of Clubs - Your right arm is completely indestructible. Any outside force exerted on it will pass through the rest of your body instead.
What could go wrong?
>Right Arm of Spades - Your right arm can easily destroy specifically rocks and concrete. For all other purposes, it is merely an arm.
You copy-and-pasted the wrong thing, fren, THIS is the most versatile of arms.

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Poor little Sophia.

She had her whole life ahead of her.

She loved to dance, draw, and groom horses.

She dreamed of growing up to be a veterinarian.

She was also a dumb ass little bitch that liked to play next to cliffs with very large, loose rocks in them.

Her lungs still inflate, and her heat still churns blood- but Sophia never got back up.

Naturally, a husk with such little moral weight attached to it was rare and unheard of.

Furthermore, the fact that she playing by herself in the middle of the wilderness with no one to witness her incapacitatation and...ahem...reanimation made her an even greater candidate.

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Assess body capabilities and environment.
yeah let's do that. Test how much strenght you can exert before damaging ligaments and what not>>2728961
After this see if we can stand. Have we done this before?
Lay eggs into the body to make plenty of offspring with which to devour the hrundle kingdom.

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You are a humble red cloak on a pilgrimage with your daughter Cheryl to the place of her birth in honor of your late wife's memory. The roads across the Mid West are long and winding wearing down on both of you. Already you've been driving for ten hours, but you're almost there. So you push on hoping to reach Silent Hill by daybreak.

Cheryl sleeps peacefully to your right. Her soft breath calms you as you drive through the perilous mountain roads. Something catches your eye to the right. It's a woman walking across the road!

>A, Swerve.

>B, Slam on your breaks.

>C, Keep going but try to avoid her.

>D, Don't jeopardize your or your daughter's life and commit to running her down.
>>C, Keep going but try to avoid her.
This quest has been ended.
And that's that. Thanks for the announcement.

You stand watch over an old battered fortress at the edge of civilization. Built into a narrow pass it guards against the horrors found lurking in the outer woods. Every night something new and horrible makes it way through your domain and every night you stop it, until week's end when another Silver Sword relieves you. At your disposal is a loyal garrison of soldiers, ill suited for taking on the horrors directly but strong in number. A plethora of ancient traps that don't always work, but are lethal when they do. Weights and cannons for a more direct approach, which can scare away quarry better killed than left alive. And, of course. Your greatest weapon. The Silver Sword of your very own namesake. A fine enough blade in its own right, but its true power lies in the extraordinary ability to turn your malice into a deadly song that boils the innards of your foes. However, it's a draining weapon to use.

Deep in the forest at night you can hear the voices. The plots. The betrayals. There are things that desperately want to get into your country and have their way with your people, but they won't. They'll die by your hand and painfully at that.

It's your first morning. The sun has driven the abominable host deep into hiding and it's even safe to walk through the outer woods if you keep to the trails. You must know what's out there to prepare against it or spend the time you didn't take looking to build up extra defenses to what you may face!

>Send out scouts and find what threatens you this evening.
>Over prepare your defenses instead!
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The best offense is a strong defense
You decide that there's too much chance of you losing valuable manpower to risk knowing what's currently threatening the areas. So you decide instead to... Choose two

>Get your men working on the traps. Ancient flame spewing devices, springs that shoot poisoned darts, pit falls, and whiling wire contractions that eviscerate anything that nears them! These are somewhat useless against spectral and aerial assault. Best against mass assault
>Ready yourself. With great meditation and relaxation you'll be able draw on the silver sword for far longer. Best against elite enemies. Poor against any massed assault.
>Shooting practice. Muskets, bows, crossbows, rocks, and cannons. Nothing born of the air will survive. Best against aerial assault aerial.
>Balanced approach. Partially ready every defense. No holes but nothing will be outright stopped. Good against mixed assaults but poor against focused tactics. Doubling this option up will give your fortress an iron clad defense but your resources will be strained for the following week, so use it only against the most dire of assaults.
>Massed drills. Your men will be drilled relentlessly until they're sharp as possible. Good all around defense. But consumes your time making special enemies and elites more dangerous as you'll be less prepared to face them!
>Ready the cannons and set fire to the woods! Nothing will be assaulting you that night, but your enemies are patient. Sometimes they work together and sometimes they tear each other apart. Only use this when you know delaying is a good strategy.
Going to sleep, quest will continue tomorrow.
Sleep tight OP.
Isn't that the other way around?

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Hello there folks, can I interest you in a good old civilization thread? Taking a small band of lowly outcasts, provincial peasants or cave-bound monsters through the challenges of a harsh, violent and deeply magical fantasy world, trying to keep them alive and, preferably, sane.

Excellent, then what I need from you today are several things. First of all, I need a vote for our race, and then a vote for our place, and third is a suggestion for our circumstances. Something like this

>>Minotaurs, Mountains, Newly-escaped slaves of a civilization of giants in the lowland.

Suggestions aren't quite so binding as race/place, but I'll take them into account.
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>>Hunt for food?
Food first
>>Hunt for food?
Voting for shelter
How many people do we have and what items do we have at hand? We need to know what we have available.

Best hunters get food.
Everyone else build shelter.

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The Hunter Association is an organization of the best and brightest humanity has to offer who protect the people, knowledge, culture and the natural world. To become a Hunter, one must pass a test known as the Hunter Exam.

The Hunter Exam is a test that happens once every year, it is known to be one of the most difficult and dangerous test ever conceived.

Back-Breaking Physical tests paired along with Complex and Unconventional mental tests which are all conducted under extreme environmental conditions, which is all done in order to find even one person with the skills to survive the intense physical pressure.

Those who pass the test are shown to be the best warriors and survivalists known to human kind. Passing the exam gives them a Hunter License, proof of their prowess and accomplishments.

This license gives them access to 90% of the entire world, 75%access to restricted places in the world, free use of all public utilities, almost 0 legal consequences for murder and most importantly, A lifetime of wealth and fortune.

However, the morality rate of the Exam known to go as high as 90% with a pass rate of 1 out 10,000 contestants ever passing the Exam every 3 years. Despite this, Thousands upon Tens of thousands of men and women still enter for even the smallest chance at winning the title of Hunter. Whether this be out of insatiable greed, heroic honor or outright desperation.

In the Hunter Exam, the only thing that matters is the need to win and the strength to do it.


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Well then, seems fate wants this tour to end today!

You look to the afternoon sun outside. So much time has passed already on this first day, looks like it's about 4:30 already. Only a few more hours before sunset.

With that in mind, you find that finishing this tour is of first priority “Sorry. As much as I’d loved to see what tricks you’ve got. I need map this place out properly first.” You state.

“That’s fine, I can play on my own. Though I’m pretty sure I’ll be here for the rest of the afternoon, so when you finish up, come have some fun with me.” He suggests

“Thanks for the offer. I’ll think about it.” You state as you move on ahead.

You step out of the doors of the recreational center and the first thing you’re greeted by are the faces of your discombobulated companions.

Etheline and Vanilla seemed to run out of air to continue their repetitive drawl, so now they both simple stare off into the distance, their minds somewhere far away, lost in the haze.

However, Rea has disappeared from her little trauma corner, she must have recovered enough to walk away and do her own business.

These two on the other hand probably won’t wake up from their trance without someone bringing them back to reality. But at the same time, you might wanna go comfort Rea, after that event in the gym, she probably needs someone to tell it will be all right.

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>Head to the Dining Room with Vanilla
For some much needed food and to try to make good on our promise with Landon
>>Head to the Dining Room with Vanilla
I'm leaving this choice open till tomorrow. I need my rest for where this is going.

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> Saturday, September 26th, 2015

SITUATION: http://pastebin.com/ziMsX6th
MECHANICS: http://pastebin.com/49M2eE8Z
THE RULES: http://pastebin.com/BEsprkBZ
THE TANK: http://pastebin.com/sJsgig6B
THE DIVISIONS: http://pastebin.com/xCQZAdqU
THE SHOP: http://pastebin.com/v6xeDRXj
DANON’S THE TEAM: http://pastebin.com/bUU2v0z8

You got a mass text from Suvorov. As you heard yesterday, tonight she’ll be having a viewing party for the Wild Card match between George Washington Military Academy and J. Walter Christie Polytechnical at the hangar. Almost of the commanders have sent their RSVPs and the ones who haven’t already stated that they’ll be there yesterday.

Winona looks down from her bunk at you. “Are we going?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” you say. “You guys can go though.”

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> “No, I’ll stay.”

You stop the door firmly. “No.” He looks to you, complete shock on his face. “I’ll stay.”

“Oh.” He looks around. “Um. I was honestly sure you would just go back and-“ You step up and gently shove him back from the door. You then shut the door behind you. Your heart is beating fast enough to tear a hole through your chest. And your head is swimming in all manners of emotions. But there is one constant: you want this. You step up and grab his hands, then quickly plant a kiss on his lips. You both shut your eyes as you back up slowly to the bed. He sits down on the mattress, and you quickly mount up onto his lap.

This kiss you’ve given him is not stopping. Somewhere in between your felt your tongues touch. Why tongue? You’re not going to stop but why? Disgusting. And yet weirdly arousing. He holds onto your hips, squeezing your skin through the thin fabrics of your night shirt. One of his hands too slips down to your bare thigh and squeezes too, making you yelp a little. Right, nowhere lewd, nowhere important…

Then you remember you need to breathe.

You pull back, panting desperately as you try to catch some air. A strand of saliva keeps you two connected before you slap it away. He looks to you, panting too, blinking rapidly as he tries to process what’s going on.

Then he says, “… I have no idea what to do beyond this point.”

You blink. Seriously? “What?”

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That's it for tonight and this weekend. Hopefully we'll be back for more this weekend but if something comes up, you'll be the first to know. Hope you all enjoyed.

Follow at: https://twitter.com/GermanSchteel
And if you ever feel like shooting the shit with me, you can hit me up in my discord: https://discord.gg/9e9yvfv

See you next time.
Choice as always boss
Thanks for the fun, boss.
Thanks for running Schteel, catch you next time.

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You are Thallos. This is your story.
For first timers: Thallos is an mean, angry, ugly old man with a big nasty sword who is not a fan of talking it out.
Thallos Ruinbringer
-The Defiler
0/10 wroth (max 10/10 wroth)
0/3 berserking (max 9/3 berserking)
Unnatural: Thallos will never know home. Foreign land will lend strength, and those lands known will weaken him.
Abomination: Chance enemies will FLEE upon your first minor/ major kills.
Butcher: Every kill is a brutal kill. Dismember and disembowelment are likely, you revel in the carnage.

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when are we getting back to the main storyline? I'm waiting on this one, and Peasant Lord Quest, but everyone seems to have abandoned their shit.
Well, meanie pie, you must know that this anon NonGentQM is not CursedQM
Oh, okay. thats cool too.
>4+3=7 Berserking (agility artificially raised to 65)
>6+4=10 wroth (time to get weird.)
Hissing through your teeth you the entire scene lays out frozen before you. Your body, bleeding, broken, near death and yet standing, poised for violence, a lipless mouth forming a rictus grin that reaches dead eyes. The darkness around you is consuming, blots of light fleeing from your path. Ahead are the glowing motes of fate, of destiny, congealing into the wyrd. They flurry like a luminescent storm; drawn towards him of his own magnetism, the potential of greatness. Magnus; there was his secret; not just personal greatness, patronage and following. For the greatness of his own potential, the swirling mass of individuals around him, connected, interdependent, taking something but giving more, these were the true strength. More than the patronage of supernatural entites great and small, he drew from the masses around him, flickering dancing shadows, easy to ignore in his presence, yet spreading far and wide.
>Look at Vall
>Look at Cameera
>Look to the dancing shadows
>No. Violence.
>>No. Violence.

You are Alabaster Soliloquy, hot-shit destroyer of anime pussy and five time champion of the North High Quiz Bowl. Your manly scent is the number-one cause of cock addiction amongst nukige heroines.

As usual, you get dragged from angelic dreams of Fatalpulse doujins yet-to-be by your bitch of an older sister. She wakes you up with a hard rap of her knuckles against your forehead.

"It's almost 8:00," Cerise says. "You're gonna be late."

There's no worse way to start the morning than seeing her slutty dog choker and unkempt bedhead. You can practically taste last night's beer fumes puttering like exhaust from her every pore. Trying not to gag, you sit up and rub your forehead where she hit you. "Why don't you worry about your own business? At least I've got things to be late to. Shouldn't you be job searching right now?"

Cerise folds her arms. "It's a bad economy! There aren't any jobs out there!"

You sigh, throw your covers off, and stand. After a few seconds of groping around the clothes-strewn floor, you grab a pair of crumpled and stale-smelling jeans from the pile. You pull them on over your boxers. "I cannot wait until mom and dad kick you out," you say.

"They'll kick you out before they kick me out. They actually love me." In the silence that follows as you finish getting dressed, Cerise glances around your sty of a bedroom. "It stinks like cum in here."

"Are you sure it's not just you? I know you've been itching to graduate from your cam show to literal prostitution."

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>"I am not going to let you corrupt the-- what's my line?"
good laughs in amongst the psychological horror
Some kind of Camelia infiltration
[X] Print Debug Log

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Hi, is this the right board for starting a rule-light rp? I've got a map to build nations on, from there each person fills in a small amount, and hopefully there's emergent roleplaying?
Sorry if this is the wrong place, or if there's a general ask thread.
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Splendid, when do we start?
Suggest a faction and a place for them on the map anon. And a color too.
You should create a discord.


Create Weapons with what we have available.

Scout east to find and capture any humans we encounter. Captured humans become slaves.
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Lizardfolk venture east, expanding their hunting grounds; Boge people from the outlying villages are captured, their huts burnt. Will this skirmish lead to war?


This is my first DS, so go easy on me

This is an adventure game using a handful of Lego sets as the basis for the scenario. Your goal is to find the ingredients for a Potion of Glamor to fulfill a request from a mysterious client. You, the player, post commands for our protagonist, along with “dice+1d6” in the options field. In turn, I will carry out your commands and post images and narration of what ensues.

Although this is a stand-alone quest, if you’re interested in reading the other stories in this series, the previous two Quests for Playability can be found here: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Emily%20Jones. The other two quests I’ve run, Funtron and Fungeon Crawl, are here: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Fun%20with%20Lego. I keep the Twitter account @LegSlemt updated when a new thread goes up.

Part One of this quest is still up here: >>2703206

Without any further ado, I’ll begin with a few reference images and a short recap.
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Yeah, I was out mining some crystals for potions when I was attacked by mice mafia!

Did you know they apparently had a spy watching you?
Rolled 3 (1d6)

Inform Ragana that there was a made mouse in her house, and see if she can give us some aid getting our potions back, but don't mention anything about the dwarf's job order.

I would rather not help the mice brew a not-poison to kill a human.
I have no intention to let that happen either. Though I do have to mention I am curious what the potion does.
Rolled 1 (1d6)

"Well..." Rosalyn got quiet and stared blankly at Ragana for a moment. Then after a while a small tear appeared in her eye: "It was a travesty. Their little disgusting paws were everywhere. Please, I'm begging you to help me. There is a rodent mafia in the mines. Disease made material. I want you to drown them. Enslave them. Do whatever you want just be sure the vengeance is cruel enough so it will erase that haunting memory.
You sure asking a recently reformed no longer evil witch to brutally murder/enslave a pair of rodents?
Aren't there more subtle routes to take?

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