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You don’t like funerals. There are grievances than not even tea parties can solve. You know that too well now.

“Now that the funeral is over, should I go to the village and buy supplies? There is barely any hu”
“ZE!” The mushroom youkai runs through the door.

There is no more time for dilations, you must archive some form of immortality soon. The shrine maiden should no longer intervene unless there is an incident. You objective must be archived without triggering the homeostatic qualities of Gensokyo. Namely, the shrine maiden, or more accurately the predilect puppet of the demon of boundaries.

If someone triggers an incident, something that endanger the stability of Gensokyo, of Yukari Yakumo, the shrine maiden and others catch in the momentum will solve it, have a tea party and move on. But solving an incident is not just stopping it; it is ensuring it won’t happen again.

That is why you can no longer be a (youkai) magician.

“Lady Marisa! Everything has gone smoothly, no one of the guardians noticed me. I will prepare some food now.” That damned failure is so noisy, a constant remainder of your failure, just like this whole Mushroom Forest. Sadly in your present condition you need help, your body isn’t what it used to be. You are even more frail that the bookworm neet.

It is time to choose another path to become immortal.

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Days pass, your hair is turning red again. But finally the preparations are complete.

What is that failure of a youkai doing? Is that a guillotine? “Lady Marisa, I made the carpenter make this for the ritual executions! Isn’t it lovely?” You slap her, truly a waste of energy to have her around. “I am going to use poison.” “I am sorry lady Marisa.” She runs and starts dismantling it. You are not even to perform the ritual here, what was she thinking?

After a few more hours of perpetrations, the rituals are ready to be performed near your house, but certainly not inside of it.

“Don’t fight the shinigami if it appears, but make sure no one else is around here.” The barriers are ready and the subjects are slowly dying. It is only a matter of time now.

A gosht appears from the first one. A ethereal ball, devoid of reason it seems.

A group shinigamis appears, one of them almost call for a duel when you quickly concede defeat; she can do as she pleases. “This thing doesn’t even require an exorcism.”

They take the first soul and leave.

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>>[ ] The neets under Byakuren may know something.
>[ ] The neets under Byakuren may know something.
I'll admit, I'm out of ideas for the moment, and am just going with the flow. And I'd also like to see what the thing you implied with Byakuren's brief mention in the OP was.
The Myouren Temple is not a place that you felt comfortable visiting, and has been that way for a long time.

Byakuren loves when you visit, Enoko too, the resident youkais seem to pose no objection to your presence. It is just you. It is your own sins that make you uncomfortable.

What is the worst sin? Betrayal, that is what you want to believe, but you own sin feels much worse.

You don’t even remember her name now, or even how she used to look like. When you think about her you can only picture Byakuren. Hell awaits you in the Myouren Temple, a coustum made one that only yourself has created.

Ichirin greats you. You let Enoko handle the conversation. Byakuren isn’t home now. Whoever god is responsible for this has you eternal gratitude. And as many bribes as his divine majesty wants. You probably are just going to donate to every temple you know after this.

You are able to pass the temple with no problems. The Great Mausoleum waits in front of you.
I will end the first thread here. Now that I can still call it a "successful" thread with at least some plausible deniability. My internet is working erratically right now AND I have no idea how to write the following scenes.

Next thread on Saturday.

Feel free to comment and criticize anything.

Now I just need to figure out how to archive a thread.

>And I'd also like to see what the thing you implied with Byakuren's brief mention in the OP was.

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Character info pastebin in progress: http://pastebin.com/iB0tb7rz
Dice odds for best of 3: http://pastebin.com/994WTT3g

General rules:

There is a 10 minute voting period after each post. Non-contradictory votes will be combined as best as possible.
Write-ins for all votes are always welcome and encouraged. They may not all make it into the post or be altered to fit in, but I'll do my best to at least try to address the spirit of the write-in.

Very important or contentious votes may be redone in a stricter voting system as circumstances warrant.

Combat mechanics involve three rolls of 1d100, taking the best, and using the base accuracy and crit ranges of the the PTU system, roughly, but the 'turn order' will be more like the anime, where sometimes you can do a few moves in a row or be hit by a combo of moves yourself, all depending on circumstances. Stronger moves tend to take more time and have more cooldown than weaker moves and also may leave you open to an interrupt, so beware of that timing. Speed is more important for closing ground, intercepting, and other things and doesn't necessarily mean going first.

Pokemon and trainers are unique, and may have certain specializations, skills, or other things that the video-game mechanics might not allow. Some examples: That kung fu Bellsprout in the anime, that crystal Onix, or a Roggenrolla that can fly. Herb's perception skills, pokemon knowledge, context clues in general, and other things will hopefully come into play to avoid completely unfair, unforeseeable bullshit, but expect more bullshit from more advanced trainers.

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We should at least warn her that the weather looks like it’s turning sour.

Of course, it’s stepping on sacred grounds she doesn’t have permission to be on that’s most likely to have consequences. Whether they come from spirits, priests, or her conscience.
that is a good idea.

I think it might be sleep deprivation talking but my shadowrun senses are buzzing. She just bold faced said she was on a holy mission to undo the entire political status quo of the loanan clergy. and shes caught on quick to how politics works to go on this hike but she had zero clue that anything of the sort was even possible until we visited the corpratised temple.
>Herb's trivia knowledge finally comes into play!

"That badge is from the Hoenn region. They have their own legends about Rayquaza. Maybe that's important too?"
>Warn of impending weather
>Come back to the group. You can’t figure it out for her, but you can solve being bored, cold, and hungry
> We'll meet her
> Offer to go up there with her, if no then
> well wishes
this too

Welcome to Mr. Grim's Detective Consultant Office.

A small office sits above the makeshift Chinese Temple in the middle of Chinatown. They deal with investigation, cheating cases, and sometimes paranormal activities.

Mr. Jeremiah Grim is the lead inspector. A graying, hard-boiled man with a full beard and unkempt hair but still trained his body like an army. Joined the Army at the ripe age of sixteen and retired at the age of twenty five. Joined the local SWAT team before his sudden resignation after a strange botched raid. From there, he became a bit eccentric and began setting up his own office. He mainly collects artifacts and dusty tomes then studies them intensely for few days, barely leaving his room. He knows something that others don't and will keep it that way.

Jack Peterson, the new assistant. Fresh out of high-school and willing to take part-time job in Mr. Grim's Detective Consultant Office. He have a bit of an obsession with the occult and loves to learn more about them. Much more friendly to everyone due to his naivety with the supernaturals.

>The Naked Lady Case

A naked lady was found wandering around the Town of Brickwood at night through the security camera and cases of missing pets rises after her appearance. Though some parents were worried about this, The sheriff wants to know if this Naked Lady exist or just a prank. That's where you came in, Mr. Grim. You need to know who or what is this 'Naked Lady'.


The dice we use is: d666. It is used in In Nomine and basically means that you guys roll 2d6 to beat the DC while I roll 1d6 for the degree of success. For example: If you tried to shoot someone and the DC is 8 and the dice was 3,4,5. This means that you pass the DC because 3+4=7 and it is lower than 8. Since the degree of success is 5 is means that this is a high success.

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>Mr. Jeremiah Grim.

Health: 20/20
Sanity: 15/15

>Investigation Skill:

Religion 2
History 0
Criminology 3 (currently have 1)
Psychology 0
Mechanic 0
Weapon Expert 3
Ritual Expert 2

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- African Cigarette: A pack of cigarette filled with magical herbs from Africa and they have the property to hide your presence from Paranormal. (Smoking this will reduce your health by 1 but will increase your stealth DC by 3 against Paranormal Creatures)

- Cursed Revolver. An ancient revolver filled with death and grief. Rumor has it that it consumed thousands innocent souls with it, cursing the owner with greasily ends. ( Any bullets can effect paranormal creatures)

- Bullets filled with holy stones (18 bullets): From ramī al-jamarāt ( Stoning of Devils), the stones were carefully picked after Eid Al-Adha and inserted inside a bullet ( High Damage to Infernal Creatures)

- 15 blessed bullets: Bullets soaked in holy water (medium Damage to Demons)

- Normal Revolver Bullets (15 bullets): Your average revolver bullets.

- Binding Mirror: A blessed Mirror used to separate demons from their vessels and trap them in it. Be careful not to crack it.

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Resident of Brickwood:

>The Montgomery:

- Sarah Montgomery:know to have knowledge of paganism and wore a pagan necklace. Sister to Lilly Montergomery and was groomed to be the next witch. Have a hobby of researching Occult and quickly became friends with Jack.

- Lilly Montgomery: Older sister of Sarah Montgomery and a troubled waitress working at the local diner. She have a strange accent from time to time and have seen the darker side of Brickwood Town.

- Matriarch Sarah Montgomery: The soul who sacrificed herself to become the Mother Tree.

>The Ashton:

- Deputy Ashton: A quiet man and you spot some muscles in him. His daughter went missing two years ago.

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>Info and clues of the case:

- Mark of Lilith, princess of freedom found on the bark of a tree. High probability of fighting Lilim, Daughters of Lilith.

- Human Effigy with runic symbols. Marking of a Pagan Witch.

- Traces of ashes from some kind of Incense. Could be a ritual of protection.

- No one could see the Naked Lady, not even an innocent. A spirit or celestials perhaps?

- The Naked Lady have translucent wings. Demons, even Lilim, have the usual bat-like wings. A new strains of demons perhaps?

- Urban Legend of Mother Tree, Protector of Innocent and Foul.

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By God, The Ashton have twenty pages focusing on their linage while the rest of the founding families have two or three.

Looking carefully at the family trees, the Ashton does practiced incest and in doing so, they provide more manpower for the town. The other families sometimes marries the Ashton but never committed incest after the marriage and taking the surnames of other families. They are indeed the dark secrets of the town.

Turning the page to the current year, the family trees were still large and complex with the incest tradition still active. It seems Greg is one of the incest kids and... he have a twin named George Ashton. That might explain the different behavior when you met them in the morning and evening.

Looking at Deputy Lincon's family line, you were surprised that Diana was his daughter but conceived by his own mother? This is disgusting. As per tradition, Incest Kids barely interact with the outside world, caged in their own home like animals. Perhaps that is the origin of the Lilim's Contract?

" Ah crap! It's almost four and my shift is near," Sarah slapped her forehead after getting a message on her phone.

Jack closes his notebook," I'll walk you there, if you don't mind. My ass is a bit tired from all the sitting." Sarah just shrug.

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Ayyoo I'm feeling rather motivated so I'm doing thread 2 today. Get the votes in!

Previous Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2473123/

"Get out of bed sleepy head! We're going out!", Sombra shouted at me, prying me off the sweet embrace of sleep.

It is not everyday I woke up to a girl sitting on me, looking all giddy like (well actually, never). The tan skinned lady jumped off me and told me to wash myself and dress up, pointing towards a set of clothing wrapped up in plastic hanging by the wall of my room. My body is still sore from the all of the action I get last night. My joints are screaming for the sweet release of death as I rise from my bed. Remember when I said that I'll never forget Doomfist saying "Talon, it is time to start a war."? Yeah, that is because it is the last thing I could comprehend as I struggled to stand upright. I wouldn't dare fall down and faint while Doomfist is talking to those creepy guys in that meeting room. Besides, it will be very uncool if Widowmaker-sama saw that. Everything else is pretty fuzzy, now that I try to recall. Deciding that I'll trouble myself recalling that some other time, I pushed myself to this room's shower. This room is pretty luxurious, with king sized bed and it's generally expensive furniture.

After I finished showering, I opened the plastic wrapper concealing the outfit given to me. I was pretty shocked to find a branded suit inside. No doubt this will bolster my already dashing look. But then I remembered I haven't worn a suit in years. Now, I'm left with an unkempt look and ditching the tie altogether. Wearing an earpiece that came with the suit, I immediately moved out. Right outside my door, a large briefcase was left leaning on it, no doubt by Sombra because of the note telling me to pick it up with her trademark logo on it. My earpiece blares with Sombra's shouting for me to pick up my pace. It seems that the room I'm staying at belongs to a resort built around an ancient castle. It is a high-class resort no doubt, looking at its visitors. I myself am not too out of place because of my clothing. Arriving at the parking lot of this place, a purple hovercycle floats towards me, with the driver wearing leather biker suit and helmet with matching colours. Yep, this is Sombra.

"Hey Mook, get on now. You've got a plane to catch."

"Mook? Excuse me?", I asked, slightly offended that he'll call someone of my caliber "Mook".

"Ack, quit fussing over the small stuffs and get on already!"

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"I work as a freelancer in the security department and I just recently landed a job in an organisation. Occasionally my work tend to lead me into the more.... offensive side of this type of career. My client also demands me to protect their interest in many different places so that's why i travel a lot."

"....that sounds really vague.... and highly illegal Marshall."

"Hey, if I'm being vague, then you're being secretive. What did you say again about your mentor being recalled into a paramilitary peacekeeping group that went around apprehending criminals outside of the law and you tagging along?"

"Alright, alright. Nothing but the truth from now on. You might not believe it, but I'm working in the newly reformed Overwatch. You know, the one that just disbanded like.... 9 years ago? My mentor is that big old man you met back at the diner. His name is Reinhardt. He used to be in Overwatch but is forced to retire when he reached 50 years of age. They pushed him out and now they want to take him back. But now I understand this is no the old Overwatch. It's like Lena said, this world need more heroes!"

"Well I'm happy you're getting used to your new posse. As for me, I'm just hired muscle really. You know, dragging people from places they aren't supposed to be and place them where they should, things like that. Nothing interesting really."

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Thanks for running Red
You did good Red.
Sperg Hard. Die Hard.
We STuGs fo'Lyfe.
know when next session will be?

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The match's dim light illuminates the side of the building as it falls down, extinguishing itself in a puddle at the end of it's fall. Sucking your teeth, you close the pack and tuck it into your breast pocket.

"Tossing matches? Really Nick?"

Davie holds the door to the roof access open, his eyebrow cocked as he looks across at you.

"Shut up, it helps me unwind."

"Right. Well, Steve's ready, soo..."

You push off the railing you were leaning on, heading towards the door. Davie steps aside to let you in, closing the door behind you two as you start going down the stairs. On the third level you step through another door, into a somewhat hastily put-together planning room, complete with whiteboards and pinboards. You opt to sit down normally, while Davie turns his around and sits in it 'that' way. Douche. You take note of two others in the room, another white guy like you and Davie, though younger, and a dark-skinned Hispanic guy.

Sniffling, you dig your fingertips into the matches, and idly fumble with them until another man enters the room. Caucasian, older, though that bit was obvious thanks to the salt-and-pepper hair tones. The slight pudge worn on his body betrays the look on his eyes saying 'experience.'

"So, we're all here. Good."

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>>Play it brash, coerce the manager then cut the power to kill any cams and alarms. No worries about time and passersby.

why would anyone press the panic button as soon as someone walks into the office? if we go this route i suggest we knock before we enter
>Play it safer, we cut the power and drill the vault. No worries about alarms or cameras.
We might be wearing masks since the cameras would still be up when we walk in.
we could wear a hat to avoid that.
>Play it safer, we cut the power and drill the vault. No worries about alarms or cameras
I'm still at work right now, so I'll let the votes shore up a bit until I get home.

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Synopsis: This is a dark fantasy draw quest where death is closer to you then your shirt. Currently, you're playing the rogue Kae. After living most, if not all, your life in the woods you are forced to rejoin society due to the ever dwindling game in the woods. After coming to Wilstown, you and your new friend Jackson hunt down and slay a witch for money. You are now in the process of attempting to collect your reward...

New player? Read here...
>Old threads?
>But wait! Where is the very first thread?

I update every 1-4 days, depending on how busy I am with school work. On holidays I may update everyday, on exam crunch time I may not at all. This is not a quest that you have to show up on time for, drop in every day or two and you wont miss anything. Lastly, I will use the same thread until it falls off page ten.

-Prompts that are more in depth have a better chance of succeeding. Example: you have a better chance of success if you provide an argument as to why the monster shouldn't eat you then if you simply say "convince him not to eat you".
-Prompts have to make sense in continuity to the story. Example: characters who are established pacifists wont start murdering randomly for exp.
-No meta gaming

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I think this is pretty accurate.
>Keep spying on them! For certain, the strong arms of Jackson carrying us out of here is an alluring prospect - but having a hunk like Ajax acting so chivalric on our behalf is also a great feeling! One we want to revel in for as long as possible.
I'll go with this. Did Kae bring her notebook with her? If so, she should draw a few pictures because that's how she copes with reality.
my supports.
Rolled 7 (1d10)

~Mystery roll~

>Besides the guy who wants us to stay is probably going to get pist when he realizes we borrowed one of his toothpicks.
If you are talking about the sword, we stole that from the wolf hat guy. Ajax is the captain of the Guard

Wonderful, please take care of me <3
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[Sorry everyone but I have been, and will be, really busy for the next day or two so no new updates until them. Your forgiveness I implore and I hope you don't drop my quest in the meantime.]
That's okay OP, we will survive a wait of a couple days to see how Kae resolves this.

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Give suggestions on how the story should continue.

Quest so far: https://lom678.deviantart.com/gallery/64981888/NotQuesty-GOLD

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part 168

Shantae gets out of the Trainer business as fast as she can. She gives the Pokemon she caught away to someone, NQ's Pokemon are handed over to be passed back to him.
For tempting fate, there will be more battles for her.

But for now, they return to the previous city. Clair has a heartwarming moment with Clara before departing.
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part 169
They find Lugia statues, suspicious suspicious ...
Then find scrolls about a prophesy, but they can't read it unless they know sea people language.

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> Greetings, /qst/, who wants to be a bastard today? This little adventure is all about being a man in a tough, brutal world where a man who takes what he wants can go far- or die horribly, their name lost to time as quickly as it was noticed. A man who gambles everything he has can become legendary, but for every success, a hundred men die unknown. Are you one of the lucky ones?

We begin in a small town, caught between the burgeoning Dacian republic and the untamed mountains of greydust. Set on a four way- crossing, the town pulls people from all over. However, they do not come to farm, nor build or grow. The people here simply have no where left to go. You arrive in town one afternoon, when many strange folk gather in the tavern. In fact, lonely stranger, from where have you come on your ragged horse?

> The Greydust mountains, in the north. Wild tribes of painted clansmen wander through the forests beyond, and great horselords arrive from the west to plunder unsuspecting towns. Bandits wait between each city to rob those who travel without protection. Savage lords and shamans are the heroes that emerge from these wild lands.

> The Dacian republic and other such realms, in the South. These cities are the height of civilisation but also contain its lowest points. Crime and corruption run rampant in the great plutocracies, and great emperors shift between rapid expansion and hideous decadence at a moments notice. In these cesspits, fighters of great speed and cunning are born amongst any social class.

> From the West, where the lands sprawl with rural villages and great stone castles. It is a land of kings, vassals, knights and peasants. Yet for all their honour, the noble houses only stop fighting each other, when the king seeks to drag them into generation-long wars over forgotten reasons. Men clad in grit and steel ride from these lands, and if they have lost honour, they have nothing else to lose.

> To the East, from the Terranian empire, a massive state that gained its strength through powerful sorcerer-lords and horrible black-powder weapons. It stands upon the corpses of dozens of empires before it, who left only ruins. Those who leave may be sorcerers, alchemist, pious folk, simple mercenaries, and others sentenced to death by the whims of the boy-emperor in Blackbridge.

First to three gets it!
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>The Dacian republic and other such realms, in the South. These cities are the height of civilisation but also contain its lowest points. Crime and corruption run rampant in the great plutocracies, and great emperors shift between rapid expansion and hideous decadence at a moments notice. In these cesspits, fighters of great speed and cunning are born amongst any social class.

> To the East, from the Terranian empire, a massive state that gained its strength through powerful sorcerer-lords and horrible black-powder weapons. It stands upon the corpses of dozens of empires before it, who left only ruins. Those who leave may be sorcerers, alchemist, pious folk, simple mercenaries, and others sentenced to death by the whims of the boy-emperor in Blackbridge.
> To the East, from the Terranian empire, a massive state that gained its strength through powerful sorcerer-lords and horrible black-powder weapons. It stands upon the corpses of dozens of empires before it, who left only ruins. Those who leave may be sorcerers, alchemist, pious folk, simple mercenaries, and others sentenced to death by the whims of the boy-emperor in Blackbridge.
Black powder gun mage
>To the East, from the Terranian empire, a massive state that gained its strength through powerful sorcerer-lords and horrible black-powder weapons. It stands upon the corpses of dozens of empires before it, who left only ruins. Those who leave may be sorcerers, alchemist, pious folk, simple mercenaries, and others sentenced to death by the whims of the boy-emperor in Blackbridge.
Guns, you say...
The Easteners have won through, expect writing later today.

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Here's a game where you control the character by posting suggestions.

CrossBoy has a friend called Jeromy and their hanging out. CrossBoy crucified an old man for stealing milk from him. Now the police are after him. What will CrossBoy do?
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CrossBoy sets up a barricade covering his door using a table and a couch but the police shoot out the windows. What must CrossBoy do now?
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Addendum: he also managed to retrieve a small dinky glock from one of his bureaus.
Rolled 1, 4 = 5 (2d6)

CrossBoy attacks the police officer with the glock.
If the reult is "10" or over, CrossBoy's attack succeeds. Otherwise, it fails and he is arrested.
In the police station, CrossBoy is almost murdered by a mexican named Juan. Should CrossBoy retaliate?
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He proceeds to cross him with tacos and flees from the jail

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You open your eyes, and you curse softly as you discover that you fell asleep in your costume again.

The dimly-lit, hollow loneliness of your office greeting you as you rise from a sleep so light and insignificant it felt as if you never slept at all. That you only merely blinked.

You would have cared, some time ago. You'd have been incensed at yourself for being so lazy. Being so careless. Being so lax with your appearance and how people saw you. At how awful of an example you're setting for your juniors and peers.


But not right now.

Not with so many things to do.


Not with everything going to shit, and nearly two thousand magical girls looking to you for guidance. For safety. For leadership.

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Thing is MGNQ is hilariously complicated to explain for how long it is, the long and the short of it is basically the events after the latest madoka movie, but gone utterly fucking bonkers, main character is a hardboiled alcoholic magical girl with a penchant for murdering the shit out of things. It's a blast, just read it from the beginning, alot of here have been here on this ride from the very first thread and there's a good reason why this is basically one of the classical must read of quests.
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I completely fucking forgot to respond to you, sorry.
You can open the chat archives after each update much (although not entirely) like here.
I stand here, having suffered at the hand of life, smiling at the return of a litteral epic.

But I have to ask...

How can we fix /qst/ in your mind? Being the last of the grand QMs to fight against the changes, your word would be heeded... presumably.

If you were to utter any word, any phrase, any statement to make /qst/ great again?, then you shouldn't hide it. Maybe... somewhere... someone... will hear the outcry of the moonrabbit who has fallen.

And on another note, Still on page 2. The possibility to ride this horse to death is there. Unless it has to do with formating.

Alas, we heard your call, and came as the pilgrim we are, to hear the final chapter... maybe final chapter.

And good thing you didn't went to Akun, holy shit are the anons horrible there.
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planefag will never pay denbts
Kas go away.

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Life:10 Spark:0
You wake up on top of a hill in what seems to be the middle of nowhere. Your body is sore, but you can manage. You sit up and look around. You guess it must be late into the evening.
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Blow out the candle, we are born of the darkness, sculpted by it
Its already unlit ya dingus.

Light it.
Rolled 15 (1d20)

light latern with mind
Don't risk lighting the candle, instead utilise echolocation to analyse the surroundings

Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?searchall=stranded+mech+quest

Information pastebin: https://pastebin.com/vSXCNHAQ

You are Miriam Arteth (erm, Alex,) a noble-born child of one of the most powerful families in the Meran Empire. You have been returned home to your mansion in Aldenia. (though you are, in reality, tied to Alex, being the original, in this form, now with Miriam's mind and genetics added to the mix.)

(You are also Captain Alex, Proxima Aquarii Federation, 4th Fringe Machine Infantry, tied mentally to Miriam through a hivemind connection.)

(You are also Crew Boss Levi, a mechanic in charge of repairs to Alex's mech. After finally reuniting with Alex, you see he is, in fact, still an idiot.)

Now you're stuck in a world that's verdant, green, and full of life, where people use 'magic' and gods rule. You were pretty sure it was a sophisticated LARPer's personal planet, but Mirna, from the Apha Centauri Conglomerate has stated otherwise.

You are currently within the Arteth Mansion grounds in Aldenia. The entire city is open to your wandering, and most other residents are of lower political stature than your family. You are to attend the Academy for the nobility in a week or so.

But right now you have just given Mera's summoned hero trauma of drill hair, and have chosen a maid to be your personal escort. You are now set to wander Aldenia.

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How much different would smol Alex turned Miriam be from the original Miriam?
But I mean . . .

The real Miriam is still out there somewhere?
not really
Apparantly she got turned into a sword by the witch Greta because of weird fetish reasons, we can possibly save her at some point. Maybe we can scry for her.
the sword has been alluded to have become several pieces and if you were to count the most complete part of her as the real one then it'd actually be Loli Alex as she's far more in tact than anything of Miriam.

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In a small-town tavern in the highlands of inner Tarsus, you find your current quarry: a pack of monsters so brazen and careless you can smell them before you even set foot in the establishment.

“Good afternoon, miss...” the bartender begins before the words die in his throat at the sight of you. A whisper ripples through the dimly-lit interior, each voice asking some variation on the same question. A question you hear loudly repeated as you stand in the doorway.

“The hell's a silver-eyed witch doing in here?” a young man demands, his face covered in stubble. He rises from his seat, but clearly lacks the courage and confidence to approach you. Despite your unusual hair tone it's clear at a glance what you are: something simultaneously more and less than human, carrying within it the flesh and blood and power of the very monsters it was created to destroy. Even if you hate it, his fear is understandable.

Part of you wants to argue your case, but if you took the time out of your day to win over every human who thinks he knows better you'd have no time left for your job.

“Someone requested a Warrior,” you begin, reaching for the handle of your greatsword and lifting it carefully. A bolt, with a rounded head, slides out from between two pieces of spring steel to free the heavy blade from its mount on the back of your right shoulder. “And lucky me, I found all of the yōma in this town hiding in the same place!”

The young man's eyes widen in fear as you throw your massive sword like a javelin in a fraction of the time it would take him to blink...

… right past his head and into the mouth of a shabbily-dressed traveler behind him. Purple ichor dribbles down the edge and onto the terrified civilian's shoulder as the yōma who had tried to charge past him works its mouth absently, its dying mind doubtless empty but for a desire to rip your entrails out and eat them while you watched. That does tend to be the sort of thing monsters enjoy, after all.

“You aren't very bright, are you?” you sigh, almost disappointed at the predictable behavior as you pull your sword through the side of the yōma's head and watch it collapse to the floor, your footwork having almost instantly followed your throw. “That's one.”

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Actually rifling is almost as old as proper man portable firearms themselves.
The earliest instance of barrel rifling and likely its point of invention, comes from an unknown individual in Augsburg Germany in 1498. This was improved on in 1520 by August Kotter, an armorer in Nuremberg, giving us the first instances of "true" rifling as we would recognize it today (the Augsburg example being quite primitive).
However, your statement was for the most part accurate, with rifling not becoming commonplace until the 18th century (particularly in the frontier territories of the new world), and not being effectively mass produced and adopted by any major military power until the 19th. The lack of adoption is due to it taking significantly longer to ram a ball home in a rifle compared to a musket, a problem that was finally solved with the adoption of the Minie Ball during the Crimean War and the American Civil War.
Moreover, the technological level required for producing interchangeable parts is way later than medieval - the first attempts were in late 18 century IRL, and widespread adoption was achieved mid-19 ct.
Since I've been dropping a lot of 'hints' that border on just stating it outright anyway, yes. Noel is the daughter of the former Mad King of Hazaran, who was violently deposed more than a decade prior to the brawl in Merced. The official line is that she was killed in the coup, and that was very nearly true, and with nowhere else to go she joined the Organization.
I mean, Noel's last name was a pretty obvious confirmation of relation if not daughter status.

Also, seeing how >>2498187 says "there are two chapters dedicated to communicating simple concepts and emotional states with a single hand", is there a meaning there for getting bitchslapped over the ear like what Vigilus did to us?
Not in the book, but context made it seem like a punitive measure for having spoken.

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You are Touryn, an Aldrosian swordsman who’s helping with a job of returning a diary to its rightful owner. Currently, you find yourself on a ship that’s headed to Whetbloom, the alleged location of book’s owner. With measured steps, you sneak up the stairs in the direction of the bridge of the shop, careful not to make a sound. You’re sneaking not because you’re on this boat illegally, but because a few dozen men have quickly boarded and began to seize the vessel, throwing at least one person off in the process.

A large ruckus is taking place below and above you, signaling that whatever form of security the owner of the boat has hired had finally stirred into action. Silently, you stop near the end of the flight of stairs, peeking over such that you can just see the commotion that lies right beyond.

“Stay back, I’m armed!” A man tightly grips a broom as if it were a spear, clearly appropriated from somewhere else. “I’m warning ya!” The broom is the least interesting bit about him; a monkey’s tail sways behind him, betraying his anxiousness.

Opposing him are four pirates, each armed with blades of varying shapes and lengths. Each man is as ragged as the next, and each of them looking as if they want to kick the broom-spear-man off the side of the boat. One of them enacts upon this very feeling, taking a step forward.

“Shut yer mouth, you—“ His accosting is halted by a broom to the face, in which he reacts with a sputter and a swipe with his sword. The broom man pulls his makeshift weapon out of the way, clearly understanding that a parry would only result in transforming his big stick into two smaller sticks.

“Like that, eh? I got more where that came from!”

You can’t imagine if he was intentionally aggravating them or not. Although the pirate barely advanced, it was still something. The four men corner the broom man, and his space is shrinking by the second.

He makes eye-contact with you briefly, and he makes a face, one that you fail to capture the meaning of maybe save an acknowledgment of your presence.

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Your hands run down the page of the diary, your eyes slowly making its way down until you reach the paragraph’s end, where you then turn the paper to show the final two pages.

In an erratic, messy script, it says:

My ire is blinding.

Iorina Ludinauer.

Why is she allowed to be selfish? I don’t understand. I can’t. The war won’t end. Siolm won’t return. I want to be strong, but for what?

Why does she get to be happy?


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Thank you for playing. I'm going to have to cut short this thread since I have work due next afternoon and I've yet to even touch it. Next week might be grim too, as I have a paper due.

I'm here for any comments, questions, or concerns. Criticism is appreciated, too.

Twitter: https://twitter.com/hopelessQM
Thanks for running, as always Hopeless. This has been a lot of fun as always. It's funny to think how far this diary sidequest we took near the beginning seems to be taking us now. Would you mind if I asked how far ahead you've been planning certain plot-hooks like this?

Also, could you maybe give a bit of a rundown on the names that were just mentioned in the diary? I think one of them was the late queen, and I assume the others were political factions or nations?
>Would you mind if I asked how far ahead you've been planning certain plot-hooks like this?
Are you super sure you wanna know? I flesh them out as soon as they're taken.

>Also, could you maybe give a bit of a rundown on the names that were just mentioned in the diary?
Tsubam and Wachid are the two families in Basylen, Ludinauer is the Aldrosian royal family, and Ruthaena is the Ristellan royal family. I think you can figure out who's Kuyon with the given context.
Thanks for running!
Even though I constantly miss the thread, I always gladly read it afterwards.
Good luck with your paper.

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Today's the day, this hour's the hour. Your boss, Superintendent Chalmers, will be arriving soon for an employee-boss luncheon! Your job could be on the line if you screw this up, so you've been carefully preparing things for some time. You even went out and bought a nice ham roast for the occasion! You don't want to get ahead of yourself, but you think this should go very well.

There- the doorbell rings! That must be him. He's a bit earlier than you expected, but everything should be ready. Right?

You straighten your apron. What do you do?

>Answer the door promptly
>Shout "Just a minute!" [Buy Time]
>Pretend you're not home
>Flee out the back
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Best idea since sliced bread
firmly supporting
>>Barricade the house and take your mother as a hostage
Clearly the only path left before us.
Our boss is dead, the roast is burnt to ash, our honour is in tatters, there is only one option left to us

>Barricade the house and take your mother as a hostage
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Surely OP will deliver.

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