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You are a character with powers in the AC universe. Let's first determine your abilities.

A) Urban Empathy - When in the city you have instinctual control over the environment. (Similar to Poison Ivy's control over plants just with city stuff, very versatile)

B) Fortune Cookie Telling - Whenever you eat at a Chinese restaraunt, as long as you finish the meal the fortune you receive will come true that day.

C) Reality Manipulation (Fiction) - You can bring into the world anything written down in a critically acclaimed fictional tale.
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Which one?
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all of them

all your quests
Rolled 83 (1d100)


Girls Girls Girls!

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.

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I know how you feel. My imagination has been running wild. Who will be the first person to find Herb?

Keira: She'd be freaked out enough by his aura alone.

Jane: "Why should I trust you on this? You don't even trust me! You've never said anything nice without threatening me after? Should I even be sure that we're friends?"

Valerie: "How could you do this to Hana, Herb!"

Polu: no clue

Hana/Laki: Good god no clue.

Our family: they'd be scared that we haven't really been doing as well as we said we were. Maybe we should just come back home?

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Don't you know, Anon. The past and future are just illusions of the mind. There is only the present and it is forever lost to us never to be repeated.
Our pokemon: what's going on? Panic!
If Jane or Valerie actually act like that, i can only see things getting EVEN WORSE, because Herb doesn't need that shit right now

Poor boy, its always about everyone else but him, i just want him to have someone to cry on

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Your ship rolling in heavy seas, you dream of endless skies, the grey expanse, and the writhing things that lurk beneath the clouds and the waves...

You are Commander Reynolr of the Citadel Empire, proud captain of the CAS Brora (PS-4-917), an armed trawler based in the wretched Kraegsk Archipelago. Your presence here is tied to the nature of the storm-ravaged Kraegsk - north of resource-rich islands and a major naval warzone, the floating wrecks of great warships are carried by the currents to smash against the jagged coasts of the Kraegsk. You are to recover Citadel personnel from wrecks, protect salvage ships, and ensure that the enemy Republic and its craven mercenaries does not gain control of the Kraegsk from their own naval base, at the opposite end of the archipelago. Every month, a convoy of cargo ships picks up scrap that cannot be used or embezzled by the forces of the Kraegsk and takes it back to the naval yards of your homeland - loss of these ships is unacceptable.

Before the Citadel-Republic war, the Kraegsk was inhabited by a series of destitute fishing communities living in the shadow of the ruins of the old Astaeran Empire. Now they are forced into the service of the belligerents, powerless to resist the meager forces allocated to the Kraegsk.

You are aboard the Brora, heading north for Scrap Bay. There, you're supposed to board a merchant ship that will take you to the Volcano, a neutral haven where you'll board an airship on a mission with a certain Mr. Bucard.
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>>Open the hatch at the end of the hallway, and take stock of the persons on the ship, perhaps speaking with a mercenary or any other travelers that Bucard has roped into this journey.
We need to get a sense of the layout of the ship and who else is crazy enough to have been roped into this.
>If applicable, choose one or both of your companions to accompany you. It's probably a good idea to leave one behind, to guard your things.
Bring Celeste with us. She doesn't feel well in the room we acquired and she much is more likely to recognize Astaeran tech aboard the ship. She can also identify possible "associates" should we run into them. It's probably a good idea to leave the amulets behind under guard.

No worries Scribe. Thanks for letting us know. Take it as easy as you need to. Appreciate your continuing to run.
I second this, but
>Leave the amulets
Wouldn't the amulets help us with investigating? And what if Kenneck accidentally gets corrupted by the amulets?
Seconding this.
For all the amulets could be useful, I really don't want to run into Buckard while carrying one.
>And what if Kenneck accidentally gets corrupted by the amulets?
And what if WE accidentally get corrupted by the amulets? We have no idea what is on the Maîtresse and during our exploring we could stumble upon another giant gem for all we know. It's probably for the best to stay away from the mind-altering artifacts until we better understand this environment. Kenneck can be ordered not to touch our stuff and he is probably dutiful enough to obey. You seem to need to actually wear the amulet for a while to start getting effected by them.

Wearing an amulet openly could also have unfortunate implications if there are fanatics aboard...
Yeah, so it looks like the Krempt recently 'liberated' this airship from its previous owners when it was under the name 'Cumulus Queen', which is why the markings are fresh and explains the battle damage. What Celeste's hearing are probably just the 'echoes' of the crewmembers' violent deaths, nothing to be that concerned about.

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Lee rummages through the large box on the floor as he arranges various figures on the table, each figure uniquely painted and assembled with care as they face across from the crudely and haphazardly assembled force on the other side of the table of odd, somewhat humanoid figures wielding a mixture of plastic weapons and scavenged trash molded into a somewhat facsimile equipment. Several are adorned in candy wrappers or have arms taken from tossed out children s toys glued into place. One has a car antenna ornament for a head, smiling blankly with sets of cut up plastic jabbed into it to form a set of tusks. The taidaren triplets toss the figures about the table with no real care as they make their selections.

“I'm surprised you didn't sell this one when they said I was dead.” Lee says as he hefts out an almost football sized chunk of plastic molded into a mass of teeth and claws towering over the other miniatures.

“We tried.” the triplets reply “Hard to sell, to expensive.”

“Oh.” Lee says. “Well, glad to hear you missed me enough to pick my apartment clean.” He orients the large figure as the table forms various hills from a mixture of haptic hologram projections and a layer of reflexive tissues forming into a valley with a mixture of debris scattered about the area, with a crumbling road connecting the two armies.

“Alright. Sushi, you roll for the initiative.” Lee says, and hands him a small die. He sucks it into an air jet, puffing his body as the jet tenses before spitting it on the table.

"Lee gets first deployment." The ceph says blandly. The triplets make a collective sigh of squeaking exhalation, their tongues clicking in and out in frustration as they watch Lee place the large roughly insectoid figure firmly on the table with an audible thud, and its base sinks into the flesh terrain to secure it in place.

The Lord General looks at your titan as steam billows from its breathing holes like fumes from a great machine, its neck spewing visible heat as the vents for its forward weapon flair bright red. It steps forward, crushing the road beneath its great clawed feet as it begins its march. The air fills with swarms of wasps and warriors clamor over its carapace, nesting in the ridges of its armor waiting for the time to strike.

Welcome back to Hive Queen Quest!

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>"Free" energy isn't, that's just the way the universe is.

Well... In the real world maybe.

In Hive Universe orbiting black-holes are the standard power generation method for your average human starship. There are multiple species with independently developed FTL methods (all of which are inconsistent with most established modern physics models). And finally, we're playing an immortal mind controlling alien bug queen that can literally fly around and cast fireballs just by thinking about it.

Especially when it comes to the Void, there will always be something unknowable about how they truly operate. The answer to where they (or we for that matter) draw much of our power can simply be summed up as "tachyons." As a pseudo-magical force emitted by all "living" creatures that can be used to manipulate the world around us, it's hard to fit that into established scientific literature.

My personal pet theory is that the Void was so weakened in combat with the Hive that it draws its current power through the tachyonic emissions caused by worship and sacrifice by the Ceph. There's something involved in an intelligent species (perhaps a "soul-ish" equivalent), that can be drawn upon for raw (essentially magic) power through tachyonic manipulation. Without worshipers the Void may lose much of its power (although it could still have some stockpiled).
>orbiting black-holes are the standard power generation method for your average human starship.

This is perfectly valid in our model of how physics works, it's kinda screwy keeping the singularities away from each other but it works.

>independently developed FTL methods (all of which are inconsistent with most established modern physics models)

I'd be surprised if they weren't inconsistent with physics models, the only "FTL" drive I've found in our universe requires somewhere around a Jupiter's worth of negative matter to work. The Alcubierre drive is certainly theoretically possible, and I see no reason future people can't make it real. The other FTL drives I can't figure out because I don't have the math on them, or an accurate description of how exactly they make physics cry.

>immortal mind controlling alien bug queen that can literally fly around and cast fireballs just by thinking about it.

Genetic immortality is possible, just a bit weird to comprehend, telomeres that repair themselves isn't outside the realm of biology. Alien hive-mind bug queen, not impossible, just improbable as most hive-minds don't work this way but whatever, biology is weird.

>literally fly around and cast fireballs just by thinking about it.

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THEN AGAIN, naked singularities are also, theoretically, possible but make standard models of physics cry and then shatter so maybe the Void is using one of those to manifest?
Mostly accurate, however you got one thing slightly wrong.

Humans do produce a (pitiful) tachyon signature. However, they are incapable of perceiving it themselves. That's why the Valen can read human emotions so well - if humans sent no signatures the Valen would have nothing to read. We do know that the Cluster is living and emits no tachyons, although that is a result of deliberate self mutilation. Every other example of intelligent carbon based life we know of sends out mental signals whether consciously or unconsciously.
Yeah, Cluster stands out as an anomaly here. They are "alive" in terms of being carbon-based DNA life, but they produce no psionic signature. Scarred Queen told us that no true life is invisible to the Void, so either Cluster isn't "true life" because they mutilated themselves to be such or Void has the ability to interact with them somehow anyway. Maybe it would require a Void Shard, just like they can still talk to us through the parasite's nerve connections. The former implies that the definition of "alive" reduces to "has a psionic signature" and the latter implies that nobody, not even Theseus, is safe.

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You run through the halls, barely decent in a pair of teddy bear pajamas and a Batbabe tshirt.

You are late! With a meeting with one of the Proprietor Senpais! You can get in trouble and if they don't like you you'll get fired.

And you already started and you think a cute nurse wants to murder you. And if she does that off camera you'll likely stay dead.

That's bad.

You through open the door to the staff members office, a small stained glass window overlooking the ring from above.

The proprietor of the establishment, Jimmy Damn stares at you from his desk, frowning at you.

"You've made quite a mess of my bookings." He states.


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> (9 o.o)9 Good point! All three of you against little me... Well two and a half of you if Snaillicker can find her lungs in time.

> (9 o.o)9 Good point! All three of you against little me... Well two and a half of you if Snaillicker can find her lungs in time.

Can we also mention how we've managed to bloody the nose of the asylum in our debut?
> (9 o.o)9 Good point! All three of you against little me... Well two and a half of you if Snaillicker can find her lungs in time.
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You nod smiling as you toss the girl to the ground, the woman gasping as she clutched her throat.


The woman nods. "Thats fine, if we win however its going to cost you."

If in fucking deed, might as well negotiate the terms of the moons destruction.


"Well lets see. If we win, you have to pay for Mercenary 911's bill and we get... your jacket."

You look down at your jacket.

"AND the medals." The woman said with a smile. "Unless you are scared."

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>>It's on... in a hour! You did say you'd let 911 catch her breath and you aren't gonna flake on that.

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>You are Anon.
>And man, you could REALLY go for a snack right now.
>Your roommate, Chad, flicks to a shitty history documentary about Hitler who may have fucked his dog who may have been an alien.
>Why the fuck is this called the History Channel again?
>"Ay yo, Anon. Go to the store and get us some donuts and shit, a'ight? Here's a ten."

What do, /qst/?
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Rolled 1 (1d20)

"You too, sir. EAT A NIGGER DICK!" Say this then begin hauling ass back home to the apartment. Rolling to offend the man.
Drop pants and proceed to masturbate using a donut.

>Drop pants and proceed to masturbate using a donut

Dunno how to roll, sorry...
Gotta do this right now.
Look at the picture for fucks sake i wanna know

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Pardon me for not posting yesterday, I was preoccupied.

You pull out your trusty Mosin, only to find out it's empty. You reach back for a stripper clip, work the bolt and position yourself to fire.


The shot shattered the furry's crotch into thousands of gibs. You never thought you'd see the day a beautiful ball-shot such as that happen by accident. But enough admiring your work, you've got hunting to do!

The other decided to stay back, learning how to aim his PPSh-41. You hastily work the bolt, trying to get another shot in.


His SMG tore away at your leg, making better progress than the others you've met thus far. But that doesn't mean you're dead yet! You fell back, adjusting the aim...


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>Did I scare people off?
I dunno, I'm in other quests at the moment.
Ok. Have fun!

Thank god 4chan is forgiving
OP, there doesn't seem to be a room that we can go through. We have no Level 2 Clearance.
Shit, meant to say door 2 and 3 are Level 1 Clearance. Forgive me dudes.
Let's all go through door 2 then

This isn't working.

Your eyes have had time to adjust to Natalia's office. Despite the harsh shadows cast by the light of her computer screen, you can see that Natalia's jaw is tensed. Her hands are pressed firmly against the surface of her desk, her eyes boring into you with promises of awful things in your future.

You pissed her off, you realize. At least you can take pride in wiping that smirk from her face - but now Natalia looks ready to fight tooth and nail.

You need to change things up, but, "Like I said earlier," You say. "I'm willin' to do what I can to smooth that little infraction over. It was made in the heat of the moment, it won't happen again."

"Then, Ms. Bellman -"

"Of course," You interrupt.

"Are y- if you would stop being rude and-"

"It should be obvious that-"

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No, we can still do that, just in a little bit after talking with our roommate.
"I, uh." What is it with everyone giving you such intense looks? You can't help but feel awkward. "I can sleep anywhere, really. My dad always said I slept like a corpse, and bootcamp made me get used to sleeping in 4 hour stints. So, uh." The woman raises an eyebrow at you. "I do prefer it to be dark, though, if that helps."

Your roommate's stern expression brightens into a broad grin. "Oh, good. I thought you would've been like my last roommate." She steps back and opens the door to let you in. The room was pretty much what you expected. There are two twin beds (neither with any sheets), two dressers, and two desks arrayed so that roughly half of the room is given to each roommate. On the right wall is a sink and a mirror, and a small alcove leading to a door - you assume that's the bathroom. There is a folding door that is partially open to reveal a closet.

All in all, there isn't that much space. You notice that the bedframes can have extra steps added to it, pushing the bed up like the top bunk of a bunk bed. The furniture isn't in the nicest of conditions - one of the two chairs looks like it's being held together by improbable physics more than anything else. Along the wall opposite the doorway is a window with closed blinds that still let in a surprising amount of light.

"So," Your roommate plops herself down on the bed along the left wall. "I took the liberty of claiming this bed, hope that's fine with you. What'd'ya think of our new abode?"

"Well, um." You toss your duffel bag on the remaining bed. "It's certainly clean."

"Yeah?" She flips her top hat over towards the frame at the foot of her bed. It lands on one of the posts and spins for a moment. "I think it's certainly a shithole."

You frown. "I think it's nice enough, and," You go to rest your hand on the chair in front of your new desk, but you pull back when you notice a massive split the middle of the backrest. "Uh, well."

"And that's not even the worst of it." Your roommate begins pointing the various pieces of furniture. "Everything looks like it was brought in during the 70s and has met every frat boy's drunk ass since, I couldn't get the hot water in the sink to work, there's the one outlet under the window over there, and the mattresses are hella thin." She shrugs. "The bathroom is nice though. The toilet doesn't even have more than two cracks in it, and the shower's got hot water. Only hot water, of course, but beggar's can't be choosers!" The mock cheer in her voice is accompanied with a sweep of her arm, which ends with her leaning back against the wall.

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"Yeesh, bad day huh?"


The two of you sit in silence for a few moments. The lack of airflow in the room begins to make it uncomfortably warm. You move your head to look at the vents in the corner of the room. "Does the AC work?"

"What, can't you feel it? I got it cranked up all the way, y'should be freezin' by now." She says. As you groan in response, she lets out a small chuckle. "Nah, it's in heat mode, what with it being January and all. It's either 'the bowels of hell'," She says that like an announcer, "Or we get no air movin' at all from what I've found out pokin' around. And don't even think of openin' the windows, we're three stories up. Unless you know how to break through a suicide prevention lock, guess it looks like we're bakin'.

She hops up onto her feet. "'Sides, it's damn cold outside too." You hear her open a suitcase. "Well, I guess this'll be our shithole, so might as well make it a little homey." You glance up at her as she looks your way. "I'm Brianna, by the way, but all my friends call me Bri."


The two of you fall into silence again as she sorts through her luggage.

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>[] Fuck, maybe you should think of something to say?
Any hobbies? Favorite card game?
> Reassure father by text
> Make sure the phone and everything is set up
> "We're going to need groceries"

Evolution Revolution

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.

Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
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Wonder if there's any relation to J. Jonah Jameson.
RIP Crusty.
[It's early so there aren't many stories yet, but I'm playing a girl from an unnamed eastern European country. It's a bit of a joke that the country's name doesn't matter because it changes so often. Of course that's not too true of stereotype these days, but it made me laugh so I went with it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HsTACGVoNLw ]
[I like it, but man is it crunch heavy. Luckily there are some good tools out there to help. Like >>1593022 said it's a good idea to use roll20 or spreadsheets or something. I'm a big fan of translating PP to things like once per scene or every other turn. Anything that keeps strong moves from being spammed. And the huge customization available with Pokemon is great too. The PTU system is where I want to draw most of the quest mechanic inspiration off of, except toned down and adapted, of course.]
>playing a girl
So does your group use you to write their smut? Is your character hooking up with any of the other PC's?
[Despite the lewdbins, ERP just isn't my scene. Plus she's not that kind of girl, until Marriage. Or engaged. Or really, really serious. But officially until marriage.]

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You sit in your office, overlooking the street and park while you sip a beer while your smoldering cigarette lets curls of fading smoke float off into the vents above you.

You feel your phone buzz. You set the chilled bottle down and take a look, Cheryl, your ex-wife. You set the buzzing phone down and let her leave a voice mail this is one of the few times you can sit back and enjoy life. You sip the beer again closing your eyes and leaning back in your chair until you hear the desk phone ring. Shit. Must be work, another scumbag or lowlife needs help getting out of a bind they put themselves in. But that's the work you're best at, you help people, for a price.

You pick up the phone and pull out your notebook, the voice on the other end of the line is.

>Salamanca, The Cartel's receptionist (work for a drug cartel)
>Brian McGill, Mafia messaging service (Work for irosh mob)
>Luca Fabrizio, Old School Mob Capo (work for italian mafia)
>Mary Donnelly, your loyal receptionist (work for yourself)
>Write In
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California. Modern day maybe a few years back.
Deny that bitch like she denied your right to custody over the kids.
Yeah that sounded funny in my head.
well lets accept the call and then bail out this fucker.
c'mon, Ray! Hurry up!

Hello again fellow creators of /qst/. After a well deserved pause, I'm here again to continue our journey into the Regional Evolution of our Moon Worlds. This thread we will be visiting the Ocean Habitats of Janus.

As GM, I'll do my best to actively work on phylogeny charts to track the evolutions, and also make random events for the world to drive evolution down new paths. Since this is the first time I've done EvoGames focused in a Regional perspective I'll be experimenting with how I approach these threads for better viability later on. Also we will visit the Ocean Habitats of Rienia next thread to explore life's evolution there.

How to play:
• Open an image of a species in MS Paint, or your editor of choice
• Make one evolutionary change to that species
• Save as .PNG!
• Post your new species in the thread with a description of what evolution you've added and why.
• Details indicating what the generation of your species is important. Please indicate. (Base Organisms are Generation 0)
• Details regarding a creatures size or name are encouraged, but not required.
• Nothing too outlandish. Anything silly or derailing will not be considered a canon species 95% of the time.

• Unless stated explicitly, no species ever goes extinct. Old species can still evolve, even if they're not on the latest "chain"

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Phylogeny Charts Part 3 of 3 (Tungus Lineages Only)
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Some dancing kamoina adapt to a benthic lifestyle of scavenging borgettid floricarrion.

They evolve some of their tentacles to be longer, helping them to grasp large leaves and reach inside breached plant body walls to pull out food. Some of their tentacles also grow claws, which these new "devouring kamoina" use to shred portions off of the dead borgetta.

They also grow modestly larger, spurred on by the advantages of increased tentacular power and a longer gut.
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--World Event: The Last Blooms of Life's Origins-- Since the beginning of complex life on Janus, its original organisms have continued to exist unchanged throughout the eras...Until now. Towards the close of the Magedivatian Era, the genetic code that made these base organisms of Janus so malleable for life to flourish from, begins to breakdown rapidly. Within just a few million the Base Algea, Cald, Kina, and Tungus would fade from existence on Janus. This would not before these Base Organism created one last burst of divergent evolutions that are ubiquitous throughout the marine climates of Janus.

--EvoGame Impact--
> At midnight EST, the Base Algea, Cald, Kina, and Tungus, will permanently be removed from Janus, only to exist in name and fossil records. So this is your last chance to make a new organism out of the Basal organisms.
> 11 new organisms have been released into world of Janus. They can be found in any Marine Habitat, and they are in need of the creators touch, in order to remain in the world of Janus by the end of Magedivatian Era.
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The Calatshark develops sexual dimorphism, with the males going out to hunt for prey and the females staying to guard their eggs once mated. The males have longer whiskers that they use to probe crevices for hidden prey, as well as being slightly larger and having jaws better suited to stabbing and cutting. The females have mandibles designed for crushing and chewing, and use these to feed the males the food which they bring back.
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A variation of the Hermit Tungus evolves to prey on mostly immobile prey, especially Tungreys and Barnacalds. Their stubby forelimbs get larger, able to carry it in a slow, awkward stumble towards prey which they smell. Shortly after hatching, they will chip a small part of their shell off and fuse it to their tongue, allowing them to more easily scrape meat off of prey or crack open shells; this section of shell will not heal, although this is rarely detrimental to the fully mature tungus.

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Good Morning, Afternoon, and Evening to Anons all over the globe. (Yes, even in Europe)

You are Xavier Lewis, Doctor turned survivor after the apocalypse. You narrowly escaped Chicago and came to a small Illinois town by the name of Stronghurst which seems to be the last bastion of humanity in this stricken world.

Along the way, you met many interesting characters, including a zealot self proclaimed prophet which you promptly killed, and a power hungry dictator ex-general who you instilled to lead the town. Under his firm leadership, the surrounding fields are being replanted, protection is getting put up, and the world around us is getting explored.

The last time we saw Xavier, he was heading to Davenport to see if the military there is still functional, or even alive, or not. You had stopped at a rest stop where you had awoken a horde of infected, crashed your car into the small group of infected, almost gotten trapped, and then flung 20 yards from the explosion of the truck you had crashed. The last thing you saw before blacking out was someone pulling you towards your parked trucks.

Thread 1 http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/1500742/
Thread 2 http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/1521124/
Thread 4 http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/1556440/

Twitter https://twitter.com/FATGQM
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Alright, it seems that we're going to tell the General about the useful information, but leave out the useful information, until further notice.
That seems to be the gist of things amigo
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>I’ll tell the General about just this information here, and how you need power to start sifting through everything, while we’ll work out the printer and ink situation if he wants to go that route.

“I want to thank you for what you’ve done for me in just the last two hours. You’ve given me purpose and made me feel like I’m doing something productive. I’m forever in your service.” Quintilius says, his eyes a little glossy.

You bid your farewell and walk over to the General’s house. The two guards out by the front door nod you in and you walk downstairs into the war room. You notice that it is a little more packed than when you saw it before, with some boxes in the corners, and a nice liquor cabinet installed. In a side room, the general has fixed it up to be a fine little office for himself, with a nice oak desk and a leather chair. You wonder where he found all of this stuff, and if he repurposed it from some locals.

The General is reading some papers behind his desk when he sees you approach. He puts down the papers and gets up to come over to you.

“Ah, Xavier, it’s a welcome surprise to see you up and moving. I knew you were hardy, but I didn’t think you would be up and moving that quickly. I was also told that you chewed out one of my patrols. Good, because these men need to know that their actions have extreme consequences, now more than ever. Anyway, was there something you needed, or were you just here to say you want to get back to work?” The general asks, flashing a smile with that last thing he said.

>Well actually, I wanted to talk to you about a very valuable opportunity we have. A stronghurst local owned a computer repair shop before the fall, and when Stronghurst was a mess, he had holed up in his home and downloaded information on almost anything you could think of. From engineering to agriculture. The problem lies in the fact that he has no power to his home, and therefore can’t access or print the information he has stored. I think it would be a worthy investment if we could start accessing this information to our benefit.

General Tristus gently rubs his hands and looks down at his desk for a good minute before snapping to you.

“Hmmmm, well you are right, it would be a worthy investment, especially if we could make multiple manuals and guides. My colleague Tobias would probably be more versed in this, so I’ll send you to him after we’re done. There is another issue though, is that we need the gasoline to power our generators, or go fully to wind power, which would require someone who knows about that shit, and the materials needed. We would then need the printers required, and the ink also. Luckily I think I have a solution that would be knocking both birds out. Arsenal Island has a large building for just bureaucratic shit, so they would have printers and ink we’ll get as well as hopefully their equipment. Soon, we’ll be strong enough to hold our own. Come see me tomorrow and we’ll talk more about the plan. It’s good to have you back, Doctor.” The general says, with a smile you can easily tell is genuine. Tristus sure is happy about something.
And that is it for this thread. Sorry the last few hours were sidetracked, but I was mugged by the Steam Sale, so I was a little preoccupied. The next thread will be sometime tomorrow, where I will announce it on my twitter. For those who don’t follow, I’m sure you’ll just catch it as /qst/ is painfully slow.

Thank you all for playing, and I have mild adoration for each and everyone of you!
Thanks for running R!

Also point out how the information downloaded might contain wind generator blueprints.

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You are a rather capable pilot, hired by the Eaglewatch PMC for your services. The company seems trustworthy, but perhaps it's all a sham.

Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/tT1S2beh

First things first wins.

As you walk out of the bunker, the brightness of the sun makes you shield your eyes. Maybe a stop by Eddy and grabbing a set of glasses wouldn't be such a bad idea. As you stride across the base, you notice the crews and staff all going to their positions; the entire base waking up with an impressive pace. You walk past the corrugated hangars, then making your way past the first few concrete and tarp ones. The memory of Bodhi buying you a paint job comes to mind, a smile forming as excitement builds.

You turn the corner, taking in your jet all in once. The rising sun perfectly showcases the plane to you, the fresh paint job reflecting in all the right ways. The design is immaculate, showcasing a burly tiger, seething with rage. A pair of pegasus wings sprout from his back in full swoop, with intricate sets of daggers held in his fore paws. Perhaps Eddy should have gone to art school. Smiling, you collapse the ladder from its compartment, clambering up to the cockpit. You open the canopy, taking in your view from the seat for a brief moment before resting your helmet on the seat. Taking a second to watch a F-14A take off, you close the canopy, and hop off the ladder. Several stacks of crates take your attention. Closer inspection, mainly on the printout on the wooden sides, reveals them to be the ammunition you ordered the night before. You stride to the front of your hanger, and stretch your back out, before a dark drab green takes your attention. A quick few steps reveal it to be a McDonnell Douglas F-4E Phantom II, known as 'The Flying Brick' to some. Going off of the order of the planes in the hangars, it seems as if this one's crew arrived sometime during your sleep last night.

Noting the new crew members in your mind, you head down to the mess hall, and immediately grab some breakfast. As soldiers of fortune, it seems, the company can spend more on food. At least, the scrambled eggs and french toast seem to think so. You take the plate and fork and sit next to Bodhi, who's currently conversing with two people sitting across the table. One is definitely older than the other, and they share some definite resemblance. Though, it could just be their matching flightsuits.

"Hey, Ranny boy, the man I was lookin' for. These guys are John and Junior, they fly tandem, and they got on base a few hours after you did. What did you say you flew again?"

John chuckles, resting his elbows on the table.

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Rolled 3 (1d3)


>All the options

"Wait, you're flying with your son?"

John pauses, giving a small chuckle.

"Why yes, yes I am."

You squint whilst chewing your breakfast, eliciting a smile from both father and son. Your current feelings are too mixed to focus on just a specific one. Anger? Surprise? Awe?

"That is rather dangerous, no?"

The father places a hand over his heart, and another on his son's shoulder.

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Your F-5E has 7 pylons. Four of them, two under each wing, can be used for bombs or rocket pods. The ones on each wing tip are for missiles, and the final pylon under your fuselage can carry a rocket pod, or a singular bomb.

Your current inventory is:
>12 AIM-9s
>8 AIM-120s
>20 LAU-61 Rocket Pods
>20 LAU-10 Rocket Pods
>25 Mark 82 Unguided Bombs
>15 CBU-24 Cluster Bombs

Example answers could be:
>2 AIM-9s, nothing else.
>1 AIM-9, 1 AIM-120, and a LAU-61
4 AIM-9s, 2 AIM-120s
5 AIM9s and 2 AIM120s

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“Well,” and you fix her with a steady eye. “We need to know everything. Your encounters with the phantom, top to bottom. Leave NOTHING out.” You lean back, still never breaking eye contact. “Start from the first time to the most recent. Include everything you’ve done immediately before and after. Alright?”

She nods, a bit primly. “Alright, then. The first one, well...I have to admit I wasn’t thinking it was a threat- honestly I just thought Me-Gan was pulling one of her infantile pranks. You know, some sort of thing mocking me and the fact that I like to be professional. So I thought ‘well, I won’t let it get to me,’ and sang back.”

Hm. Alright. Decent start.“Give me details. What was the first interaction LIKE?”

“I was just messing around, really. I saw someone moving at the little wooded area - you’re well aware of the area around the cloister’s stage.” Purps rolls her eyes, behind the diva’s back. “I carried on with the 3rd number of Alaran’s Call; and then he started singing something from ‘The Opera.’”

“And what was that?” you ask further.

“The Angel of Music.” She says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“And you just sang with him?” Purps presses.

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> [WORRY] Dig out Lex to work out how fucked you are
> Fluxwave . Incapacitate him ASAP you have a feeling whatever he did to the sky is bad news.
New thread coming in a bit. Will link here.
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New Thread

>>Previous threads


>>Writeup Pastebin



This quest, as the title suggests, takes place in the world of Dragon Ball. You're playing as a twenty-seven year old man named Tofoo, and will adventure through the story of the Dragonball series alongside characters such as Goku, Yamcha, Bulma, Tien, and many others. Through your actions, you can make significant changes to the story, and perhaps even become the strongest fighter on Earth.


At the end of each update you'll have ten minutes to vote on options. Write-ins are allowed, but I do reserve the right to veto them.

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Dude we used electricity way to much for him to not have accounted for it hell we were using it before Tofoo even really knew what the RR army was.
som has already told us that lighting is a straight bad idea.
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Wonder what Trunks got Tofoo for Father's day.
Rolled 84 (1d100)

Good rolls.
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