Your name is (write in), and at only 25 years old you are the best and highest-paid football player in the world. There’s still a long road ahead before you’re widely considered the GOAT, but deep down that’s already your reality — just another fact. With your recent achievement of a fifth ring and another MVP, even the most stubborn critics accept that, at your current pace, your coronation is inevitable. Your idol Tom Brady can only watch as you reach his numbers at lightning speed. He respects you, admires you, and says that in five years there won’t be any serious debate left — you’ll be crowned while still in your prime. Your impact on football is something incredibly rare in the world of sports. Hopefully nothing bad happens to you before that.…Taiwman, late February.You’ve been celebrating the championship for days in a nonstop party. You landed your private jet here, loaded with rich friends and wild girls, so you can all enjoy the new futuristic district filled with robots, super-drugs, and flying cars.Your best friend is:>Raptor, a punk pornstar with a split tongue and a very intense palate. She loves vampires and knows everything about dinosaurs.>Fugaku, a professional ping-pong player who also carves swords into bamboo for fun.>Alexey, a blind Russian singer who jokes about how easy life would be if he had telekinetic powers.>Julian, a Mexican running back who loves insects.You’re invited to the magnetic bullet train — the kind where passengers can’t feel any acceleration — by a cute Chinese girl,>Zhang, who has a dragon tattoo on her back>Mei Mei, who has a demon tattoo between her breasts>Khadija, who has no tattoos and wears a hijaband in a sudden wave of horniness, you rent the entire train to throw a party with all your tourist friends.Your phone rings. It’s Tom Brady himself, calling your personal number!(1/2)
— “Just calling to congratulate you once more on the title! In my mind, you’re already the greatest of all time.”— “Wow, that… w-well, I already knew that! It’s a fact. But coming from you, those words mean a lot to me! Thank you, master!”— “Don’t thank me. I’m killing you.”— “What?”— “You heard me. I’m killing you. I never liked the idea of being dethroned in life by someone so mediocre. Enjoy the last loss of your life, because your train is going to CRASH in three… two…”**ABRUPT IMPACT**The walkway collapses and the train explodes as it slams nose-first into a residential tower at extreme speed.Amid the explosions, your shredded, burned body is launched far away, falling into a tight crack in the asphalt.The pain keeps you from thinking about anything — your broken legs, your crushed arms, the organs slipping out, your skull split open like a coconut. You feel you’re going to die any second. Suddenly, you hear whispers. A group of Mandarin speakers is talking around you. You feel a tingling, pleasurable bite on your chest that spreads through your entire body. You black out.…You wake up wet, filthy, and disoriented in a dark, old, cracked sewage canal that looks nothing like the futuristic surface above. There are no wounds on your body, which is strange, because you vividly remember being torn to pieces. Maybe it’s just hallucinations from brain trauma. Your heart boils with hatred over what Tom Brady tried — and wants — to do to you. However, all your friends were on the train during the crash. You can’t just leave without going back to save whoever you can. There’s a hole in the ceiling pouring light down, but it’s too high to reach. And strangely enough, you can still hear whispering and quick footsteps, extremely distant, behind rusty pipes dripping constantly. You also hear a machine’s hum several corridors ahead — someone is definitely working.>look through the beam of light above>walk toward the whispers>walk toward the machines>(write in)(2/2)
>>6339353>Julian, a Mexican running back who loves insects.The only choice, really>Zhang, who has a dragon tattoo on her back>look through the beam of light above
>>6339353>Victor Bourne>Julian, a Mexican running back who loves insects.>Zhang, who has a dragon tattoo on her back>>6339354>walk toward the whispersLmao
>>6339353Oh and for name:>Sam Superbowl
>>6339353>Fugaku, a professional ping-pong player who also carves swords into bamboo for fun.>walk toward the whispers
>>6339356>>6339359swap your vote to fugaku or im leaving the quest, putting my foot down on this one
>>6339353Name: Jonna JoestarFren: >Alexey, a blind Russian singer who jokes about how easy life would be if he had telekinetic powers.>Khadija, who has no tattoos and wears a hijab>walk toward the machines
>>6339353>Ron Wadden>Julian, a Mexican running back who loves insects.>Khadija, who has no tattoos and wears a hijab>look through the beam of light above
>>6339353>JOELION JOESTAR>ZHANG>WHISPERS
>>6339510ALSO>Julian
>>6339353>Joe Marmara>Julian, a Mexican running back who loves insects.>Khadija, who has no tattoos and wears a hijab>walk toward the machinesboy I hope there's no crabs in here
>>6339353>Ace Bartly>Julian, a Mexican running back who loves insects.>Zhang, who has a dragon tattoo on her back>(write in)Look around for a weapon and prepare to fuck Tom Brady up.
>>6339354>Your name is (Victor Samuel Jonna Lion Borne Superbowl Marmara Joestar).>writing
>>6339354>>6339354>Name: Victor Bourne>Julian>Mei Mei>walk toward the whispers
Time to hurry. The crash was brutal and most people are surely dead, so you call upon God and bet on the possibility that Julian is still alive. There’s nothing else you can do except force every cell in your body to work toward saving him. You were never a church person, but you always talked to God — and He always answered.I’ll climb up here and save them —, you think. It’s five yards high, but you could climb using the pipes and the gaps between the bricks.*BURNING EXPLOSION*Things don’t go as planned, because the moment your first hand passes through the beam of light, it sets on fire!You grunt in pain and instinctively take two steps back, extinguishing the flame by shoving your hand into the filthy water. — Fuck! There must be something sci-fi up there emitting ionizing radiation. I must be in a contaminated zone… You step away from the beam of light, your nerves frying from whatever radiation (?) ignited you. Your burned hand throbs and smokes. Assuming it was radiation, you keep it far from your torso and head.A shadow forms inside the light. A single human silhouette — slender, familiar, feminine. She’s talking on the phone, but you can’t hear the voice on the other end, only the girl.— Don’t yell at me, geez! I’m looking for this shithead alone! Look… I THINK you screwed up when you said this was the street he fell on… No, wait! I-I can smell him!— Did he hang up? Son of a bitch! *sniff sniff* Blood-pariah, what do you think you’re doing with a corpse that fell from the surface? I can feel your vitae and his blood dangerously close. Wait! Could it be that—The slender shadow five yards above disintegrates, and two steps ahead of you, a puddle of muddy slime takes the shape of a young, attractive woman. You feel pressure in the air. It’s the woman who seduced you.— “Zhang?”You fall backwards, startled by the display of magic. She looks you up and down.— Zhang Yu Lin… So it’s you, CHUPASTAR?! And now you’re cursed?!— You’re not hurt, Zhang! Thank God! How are the boys?? Did anyone else make it? Did you see Julián?— I did, yeah. Just a mediocre meal. Looks like you drew the lucky card in your tragedy, big guy.”— What do you mean?! What is all this?!”(1/2)
— You’re shaking, lol… They fucked you up, athlete. Now you’re my problem.” Her eyes flicker red to scan you. “My priority was to retrieve whatever was left of your body. That’s the trophy Tom Brady wanted. I’m going to kill you and then take your pretty body to be examined by the congregation. It’ll be fun when they find out the pariahs turned someone without authorization.”— Kill me? Don’t joke with me while there are people out there needing rescue.”— [silence] I’d love to see you try to get out of here. You saw your bones rebuild themselves, saw my body rematerialize from sewer sludge, your hand is burned by the Sun and I bet you’re starving. How much more can you witness and still play dumb? I know you smell my blood, and I know you think it’s magnificent!— I do NOT!— Your mind is just repressing it. Being a predator isn’t for everyone. — She laughs. It’s hilarious! You were given a second chance, but you just really want to die here! Lie as much as you want, but your body knows exactly what comes next…She grabs the burnt scraps of your shirt to pull you closer, but you deflect, striking her wrist with your forearm. Your right hand searches for the nearest object and grabs a brick — with almost the same proportions as a football — See?>Brick — an improvised weapon that can fuck Tom Brady up— Now run! It will be more delightful if you run and scream for me, novice! Flee from the dragon!>attack the bitch>sprint toward the whispering tribe>sprint toward the machinery zone>a combination of these>(write in)
what a dumbass catcha (?) LET'S FVCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
>>6339598>Grope her breasts to confuse her, a purely strategic move.>sprint toward the machinery zone
>>6339607+1, kek>>6339598A secret VtM quest? With Tom Brady as the villain?? Hell yeah!
>>6339607+2, all my homies hate Tom Brady (as of this Qst)
>>6339598>>6339607+1 to this!
>>6339607>>6339633>>6339750>>6339770>Grope her breasts to confuse her, a purely strategic move.>sprint toward the machinery zonecool, let's write.
— Remember when you asked me if I would just stand there watching?— I remember. You were eyeing my flesh the same way I’m eyeing yours now.She opens her mouth in a sadistic grin, a thick thread of crystalline saliva sliding down the corner of her red lips, dripping straight into the cleavage that barely holds those demonic tits together. One of her knees presses between your legs to feel something and softly stroke you.The black dragon tattoo on her body comes to life for real, slithering across her skin like a graceful serpent, the tail whipping as it moves. In an instant, it reaches the hand gripping you.>she can hurt you with her bare handsShe holds your neck easily—but before the dragon can crawl off her skin and onto yours…— Respectful Strategic Move: MEGA THICK FAT TITTIES MEGA DOUBLE GRAB!!! — But you said mega t--With respectful and purely strategic intentions, you stroke her melons through the thin fabric, making them clap and plap-plap against each other. Your monstrous hands completely engulf the soft, cold breasts, squeezing with brute force and unfiltered libidinal energy.— OMG I’M SO CONFUSED!Her cold breasts begin to pulse, heat up, overheat — almost boiling and melting in your grip.— It only happened seven times before and I don't know how to proceed--Your fingers harden like solid rock and you can’t pull away. (Wait, why can’t I let go?!) Sharp claws extend from your hands and dig deep, tearing into the damned flesh of Zhang Yulin’s breasts.>you can also hurt zhang yu lin with bare handsShe lets out a terrifying guttural scream: — I can’t hold back from cumming as I release the dragon!— And now I’m out of here! (I deserve a super-strong demonic jerk-off later if I survive), you think.Her aura erupts in a blast of black fire: the tattooed dragon rips itself off her skin, becoming a swirling vortex of living black blood. It roars in sync with her voice:— I’m gonna squeeze that thick cock with all my strength until it EXPLODES! EXPLODES! EXPLODES inside me!>Discipline Unlocked: Celerity – Ground Super Speed>-1 bloodYou blast off so fast the horizon smears into a blur, and the ground becomes a river of sludge thrown into huge waves as you barely touch it.Even without seeing clearly or controlling your reactions, you turn through the sewer bends, each curve stretching and warping the walls in your sluggish, unaccustomed vision.>Current reserve: –1 or –10, hard to tell.>Scene 1 The Mouth complete.
>>6339859>wrinting, i don't know maybe I drop that and finish tomorrow. Don't worry, the next part is coming!
>>6339859>>6339861Nice. Thanks for running
The dragon’s roar fades into the distance.Through a tiny crack you sniff up a clean, innocent scent.After one or nine miles of running, you finally stumble upon something and brake hard. You fall face-first into what looks like a battlefield in its final moments.On the concrete floor lies a pile of shattered, burned, naked, and partially eaten corpses—around forty souls who had entrenched themselves there, now being searched by soldiers, cyborgs, and mechas finishing off the survivors.Sweet, thick blood runs in hot rivulets mixed with sewage. Normally you’d stop to lick the entire floor (What? Am I really thinking that?), because beneath the massacre, you smelled something far more tempting.Still far from the main pile and the soldiers, you search through dozens of scattered bodies: young, skinny crackheads with faces sunken into the muck.You find the frightened face of one who’s still moving. Sitting and marinating in the filthy water, he sees you, and your eyes lock—communicate.He seems to hope, against all reason, that he might survive the next few seconds.That’s all this is about: surviving the next few seconds.He holds—>human face leech (increases the chances of satisfaction after feeding on animal blood)>a megaphone (can also be a sound-based gun against creatures with sensitive hearing)>a stick of dynamite (can lights with no fire if thrown with super strength)A MECHA soldier shoots him in the head. It explodes, spraying a fountain of blood. The item he held drops away in a spasm and lands in your lap.The mecha detects you and sends out a noisy alert. SEVERAL SOLDIERS notice your presence and argue in mandarinOne infantryman points his rifle at you and fires the first shot.>-10% HPThe bullet burns and stings like the sun. Before they can shoot you again, you start running.>-1 bloodYou run past the battlefield toward whatever pulled you here in the first place.(1/3)
>>6340185The gunshots grow distant.After another two miles of running, you find the crack that exhaled the scent: a main gate shaped like a vault door in the middle of the sewer, slightly ajar, just a few centimeters.You slip past several sentinels unnoticed at super speed and dive in before the vault shuts.It looks like a cyberpunk hospital, a really cold one. The scent becomes a million times stronger. You're drooling like a dog. Scientists dressed like this stare at you in shock. The buzzing below can now be heard even without super hearing.You sprint again, rushing through multiple corridors and triggering a barrage of alarms. The lights turn red. The doors lock, so you ram your head into the wall beside them at high speed, smashing through the concrete. “LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOO!” — You hear tubes pulsing inside the walls, pumping fluids toward the scent. They guide you as well.(2/3)
A sci-fi gallery of cold metal and pulsating red light opens up. Dozens of tiny 5-foot-tall robots resembling Wall-E with pink neon eyes scurry back and forth, carrying sword-sized syringes and tubes filled with bioluminescent fluid.Your synapses are disrupted, overwhelmed by a multitude of musical notes. A beautiful android (perhaps you think?) with a Rusty Cherub Face sings in distorted latin above a chandelier-shaped gallery, the voice of a possessed child:>-10% HPIn the center of the hall, suspended by four mechanical ropes that pull his arms and legs almost to the point of dislocation, is HE (Or she...?)A humanoid creature of ethereal beauty, half flesh, half machine, pale skin stitched and golden circuits, ribs spread like the wings of a mechanical angel.Clearly androgynous, with slender and undefined bodily features that strongly suggest neither masculinity nor femininity—breasts and penis reinforce an almost divine (or pagan idol) presence beyond human categories.Three wall-E-like robots works it simultaneously:- one patches the exposed heart with hot silver wire, each stitch making the body tremble with pleasure-pain;- another shoves a thick tube straight up his ass, injecting a bright red liquid that makes the poor girl's dick swell and throb as if it were about to explode;- the third has a rusty cherub second head that looks like the singer and licks, literally licks, welds some open wounds with its plasma tongue.Below him, a barrel-shaped pool of fresh shiny blood swirls slowly. (He must have emerged from there for repairs? I don't know, I have no idea what's going on. What the hell is this?)Above, a colossal drill slowly descends, spinning, carving its way through his exposed entrails with a wet sound of flesh and metal colliding. (So this was the machinery I heard…)>You feel sorry for himIs the poor thing dead? Alive? Enjoying himself? Being tortured? The body glows and bleeds bioluminescently in the enormous barrel. Hah, the barrel! That's where all the smell is coming from! You ran at least 13 miles to come here. You are thirsty, hungry, feeling feral, so much blood triggers some demonic atavism on you and there is nothing you can do to ignore you FIRST FEEDING HUNGRY, until now being freudianly repressed. Maybe if it was human or two, but it's enough to refuel some trucks! Your mouth tears litters of saliva.—There is no blood… This is something special… You cannot control your breath. Confuse words cross your conscience—Become… A… God…>drink the blood from the cauldron>dive into the cauldron>free the poor guy… and drink the blood from the cauldron>[...]it's even possible to molest this thing
>>6340234>a megaphone (can also be a sound-based gun against creatures with sensitive hearing)The high T choice >free the poor guy… and drink the blood from the cauldron>[...]it's even possible to molest this thing
>>6340185>a megaphone>>6340234>dive into the cauldron
>>6340234>a megaphone (can also be a sound-based gun against creatures with sensitive hearing)>You feel sorry for him>free the poor guy… and drink the blood from the cauldron
>>6340238Somebody must to roll it for a successful sexual abuse. 3d6 under 9.
>>6340588I've changed my mind though. At least to molest that guy.
