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>Previous Thread

>79>60. Bandit Stabbed!
>99>60. Alarm is not raised!
>73>60. Abramson is saved!

>You are Firth.

Your arm instinctually jerks as the robed warrior raises the curved dagger high, it's edge nicked and worn yet still gleaming with razor keenness. The carbine in your arms raises for a moment before you force yourself to stop, flinging it down as You throw yourself forward, yanking the combat knife from your belt, spinning it into a underhanded grip. You can't risk raising the alarm but you CAN save Abramson.

The younger Raiders face is tight with pain and shock from the jarring blow to the elbow he received, the junction of his neck anf shoulder wide open for the plunging blow as the desert bandit brings the dagger down with an almost excruciating slowness towards the vulnerable point. Ragged and tattered robes shift on his frame as the blade descends, his dark eyes narrowed in a killing grimace as your feet throw you forward one desperate lunge at a time. You clench your fist on the hilt of the knife and tense your legs, leaping forward in a twisting lunge that lifts you bodily from the sandy ground. You bring your arms in close and twist through the air, slamming your shoulder into the bandits chest with such force the air leaves his lungs along with the wet crackle of fracturing ribs.

You scrabble around as the bandit sneezes, clutching his chest and gasping for breathe, his dagger buried point first into the sand. Your boot impacts his cheek as you last out, stunning him further as you sieze the advantage, pinning his arm under your knee and burying your combat knife under his chin. Robes and flesh part like silk before a razor before the wet crunch as the tip punches into his skull reverbrates up your arm. Blood pulses in weak gushes, wetting your hand as you drive the blade to the guard, the bandits feet drumming as you impale his brain with the foot of American steel. His struggles cease as you slowly withdraw the blade, blood and cerebral fluid staining the blade along with clumps of pinkish grey tissue clinging to the serrations.

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>Assist your men in securing the rest of the village.
Let the medics do their job in peace, the booze can wait too until we're sure the village is clear.
supporting. search and destroy.
>Go check on the wounded.

I don't think there are any specialized medics on this team of raiders. >>3089808
>>Go check on the wounded.
>Assist your men in securing the rest of the village

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And an old city,
Alight with a captured star
Choking on its own dust.

The shadows here have teeth and claws and intent.
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Rolled 42, 63, 89, 68 = 262 (4d100)

What adaptions from what odd creatures dog Irons light thread? What steel of what make did they bind into those blue eyes? What odd sinew connect his glenohumeral articulations?

10 vs 12 - Pass by 2
17 vs 10 - Fail by 7.

The House of the Bonded specialise in the explorations of the natural world. The forges of the enigmatic cultist priests spew forth the sigilcraft and the automaton servitors that scrub the deep harbor for traces of rot and the clockwork pidgeons that carry traces of the mail along the royal roads.

And if you ask them real nice, and you don't have too many ethical quandaries, the apprentices are always looking for new subjects!

Parts and interests acquired elsewhere help the work, but ..

Pass by 2:

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>Spend 9 AP to Investigate the effects of Sigilplated
The fields of combat tests not only one's skill, but one's will.
>Visit the fields of valor

"At last I managed to escape the grasp of those custodians... Wait were am I?... Is that a coliseum? Oh well maybe I'll learn something more useful here than in the archives"

>9! Test my Sigilplate and mass produced plate

AP 10 | HT 11 | Focus 9
Grit 4 | Reaction 7 | Threshold 0
Speed 1.5 | DR 3
[Little homes, little deaths] Roll focus to resist
[Scars] +1 grit
Blade 8

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Rolled 6, 2, 1 = 9 (3d6)

>field of valor: test offensive capability of shields
Rolled 1, 5, 1 = 7 (3d6)

>Inform everyone else of what I found in the Ceterion crate, and how an alchemist would be the best lead on what they were using it for. An alchemist like the one Shiv was going to meet with.
>Head to the Field of Valor to test my new gifts, particularly Changes.

Survivor: +1 Grit +1 HT +1 Speed
Volariel's Rainbow Cloak
Tricks: Footwork

AP 9 HT 0 Focus 18
Grit 1 Reaction 5 Threshold 4
Speed 2

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Finally after two years in the service of the Dark Queen Quintis you have finally been promoted. No more marching through filthy peasant villages administering the Queen's justice, this is your chance to rise through the ranks of her Majesty's armies and become one of her generals, or so you thought. Being placed in a garrison out in the middle of nowhere wasn't the promotion you had imagined, but after the death of your commander, your rise through the ranks seemed that much more possible. Through your leadership, your garrison holds its ground through an assault and infiltration by rebel forces and manages to capture two of its heroes. After transporting the two of them to the Capital, Queen Quintis decided to promote you to Captain and to add you to her collection of personal agents.

Ignoring his comment you press him further, “You have to know something, how do you get paid, how often is it, how much.”

The mercenary bursts out laughing “I’m not the fucking quartermaster am I. I don’t know whose paying us all I know is that he’s paying”

“Would you like me to start removing your toes then? One for every answer I don’t like.” You declare coldly, staring the man down.

>Last hurrah, give me some d20+3s

>Full Plate Armor
>Plate of the Savior’s Mercy (once per in game day you will survive a mortal blow)

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No, no need to.
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>Sorry for the long update time guys, but I've got Finals coming up and this will probably be my last post for a bit. So vote on this and we'll pick up the next thread either this Friday or Saturday.

“ATTENTION!” you shout at the top of your lungs. Every recruit jumps in surprise and faces you, none of them come to attention they all just stand and stare at you. This was going to be a long day you think to yourself as you shout. “In formation come on, let’s go you piles shit.” The recruits snap out of their dumbfounded states and shuffle slowly into what you can only guess was their formation. With a heavy sigh you walk along the “formation” and correct stances and positioning with liberal uses of insults until the recruits actually stand at attention in the correct formation.

Once finished you head back and stand at the front of the recruits again. “I am Captain Baldr, I’m here to replace Sergeant Crumar after one of you inept idiots managed to injure him. First things first, you have got to be one of the worst bunch of bumbling morons I have ever met. I don’t know what Sergeant Crumar taught you, but apparently it didn’t stick well enough. So now, since you dumbasses have trouble even getting into formation correctly, we are going to practice until I’m satisfied. Now scramble so we can do this again, and if you aren’t mixed up enough I’ll be sure to move you all personally,” you finish slamming your gauntleted hand into your palm for effect.

You expected this little practice to take only a few hours not the whole day. You try everything your own drill sergeant had done with you in an attempt to get them into formation, but nothing seemed to work. It took absurdly long for them to finally get into formation correctly just once, but they could never repeat it until just a few hours before sundown when finally the recruits managed to enter formation correctly three times in a row. You had them do it ten times more just to be sure they could do it, before finally in dismissing them.

You slide down exhausted next to Mildri who to your surprise had stayed with you the entire day. “I-Is it always like this?” She asks.

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>> “No, we should be drilling by now, not learning to get in formation.”

is the practice over for the day with formation? damn this guys are bad
> “No, we should be drilling by now, not learning to get in formation.”

> “No, we should be drilling by now, not learning to get in formation.”

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We play as Percy a Pokémaniac with a knack for communicating with Pokémon.
He's on his way to become a professional trainer and find his calling in life.

Your team so far consists of:
Vulpix (Alolan)
“Prince” (Elekid)

Traveling partners:
Kadabra: A teleporting friend.
Eli: A punkish girl who aims to be the next regional Pokémon champion

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I believe we received confirmation that that particular Mankey was eventually put down by the shelter. It was too unruly to effectively keep contained, and they couldn't find a trainer for it.
i know and i double checked but it was only implied that Percy assumed it had to be put down

also mediocre gave us this
>"There was a reason for this violent behavior, even worse than the one of a normal Mankey, but that would be spoilers"
Hm, it’s likely to be that Mankey, then. Thought we got more solid confirmation, but has been quite some time now, so you’re probably right. I’d thought that there was some connection between that Mankey and the Arsonist’s Primaeape at the very least as well, but if it’s been left up in the air as to whether he actually got put down or not, then it being the very same Pokémon would make sense.
Glad you like it QM, looking forward to tomorrow. (*゚▽゚*)
New Thread


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XCOM Barracks, XCOM Hq, North America

“No offense Dozer, but you are seriously the absolute last person I’d pick for ANY stealth mission. Ever.”

You give Rachel a look while Naru and Sweet snicker. You were honestly hoping for a bit of reassurance from your team but they’re a bunch of smartasses.

Well, it’s good to know they’ll handle themselves while you and the others are gone. It’s a fair thing to say at face value. An Assault leading a covert ops team of all people? But with the mysterious EXALT attacking XCOM and the Council in it’s wallet, you have been chosen to lead a small team to learn more about these new enemies.

Wraith-1 is what your new team has been christened. Has a nice ring to it.

“Oh don’t give me that look I’m just giving you some shit.” Rachel smirks. “Shame not everyone could tag along, really.”

“You’re just bummed out that you can’t show off with your fancy schmancy ninja MEC suit.” Naru rolls her eyes.

The pair of MELD modified troopers begin to bicker again.

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>since he’s former triad he’d likely be on thier watch list.
That would be a gigantic list at best. I don't think we have to worry about him. And. X-com doesnt recruit criminals except Zhang which is e extremely rare exception. Exalt won't suspect.
>his entire mus
The what ?
>The what?
He misspelled malus, as in the opposite of bonus.

>>3095040 Supporting this
Calling the vote here!

In which our main character tries free from the shackles of the past

They say this planet used to be...greener and and alive...more civilized and peaceful. I don't know bout that. Who can imagine Nova Europa without rads out of the ass and humans bickering (again) over what little resources left?

Well, It is not up to me to be the judge of that. I dunno why i am writing this crap. I got no food, no clean water and my legs are pretty banged up. I am afraid for my little baby girl. S-

You didn't bother reading the rest, you feed the journal to the campfire. The whimpering of the little squirt never stopped, her dumbass dad made it so easy for you to track them down. Unmasked Muta-signatures gotta attract something and boy oh boy, she is ripe with them .

It was entertaining to watch the kid squirming in her bondage, like a little worm. She is a good catch but is she enough for Momma Yagrinne? She gave you three days to unfuck the bomb collar after....well, let's not talk about this.

"Shoo! Shoo!" You scared an old Mutty away. It scurried away in a flash. Mutties are what you get when you mix rads with Mutts from Old Europa and a little sprinkle of 'alien' critters diet. Short (rarely long if the genetic lottery is right) lifespan and voracious appetite for pretty much anything that moves. the old mutty was too weak for anything. He could make a nice meal if it weren't for his high Zeon levels. You don't wanna anything of that.

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"Good Meat. She will be a fine dinner in no time. Come, I havea an important task for you..."


"....so i pounded his little ass like there is no tomorrow! Then BAM! A plasma shot to the head, the look of his mom was priceless. She watched me grilling the fucker. " Mongarus guzzled more Sunshy piss while chewing on rib meat. The rest laughed and cheered, everyone was having fun while Momma sat on head of the table watching in silence.

"yo, yo tell em about hat one time with...excuuuse me bitches and bitc..hes..." Londcray burped for the last time before passing out. The piss is too strong for the kid.

"What he's talkin bout?"

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>I...Where am i?
Nice trips, Satan.
>Can't you...see my tits, you...you...fuc...[female]
What creature are we?
gotta sleep
continue later
>I...Where am i?

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A fantasy RPG
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Rolled 52 (1d100)


>"Very! Tell me more about yourself."

Ikara: "Well along with my main project I aid my colleagues with their research and experiments. As the only transmuter in the organization I'm pretty important. My powers are often used to fabricate items and create secret passage ways in the base. I also did most of the work making our golem. Honestly they'd be nothing without me. Anyway for now I'm just perfecting my philosopher's stone, after that who knows? I'll have to move on to greater projects."

As she blathers you hear Alina speaking quietly to Salaman.
Alina: "Hey um Salaman, isn't Cloudshout *your* name?"
Salaman: "Yes why?"
Alina: "That woman has the same last name as you, do you know her?"
Salaman: "Huh I wasn't listening what's her name?"

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should have totally tried to flirt with her though, regret that now
I was not expecting that.
Well, at least he only barely came down on the side of his sister.

So, we need to non-fatally defeat two spell casters at once.
I'm thinking we might need to dust off our signature move.
Unfortunately, Salaman is quite familiar with it and we're already in a good spot tactically.
Really, once Salaman makes his intentions clear, we should keep a grip on her arm, hold her between us and him, lift our hammer to hold the handle against her throat if she starts casting, and try to talk him down.
If it goes poorly, then we try to signal Alina to deploy the Maneuver.
Of course, to not let Sal know, we'd have to uses some sort of elaborate coded eyebrow wiggling that we never bothered to learn, which would anyway probably just confuse Ulric into thinking that we're flirting with Alina ...or him.
I'm not saying that the plan doesn't have problems, but it's a work in progress.
I think we should power attack her head with our hammer faster then they can cast
>inb4 her head pops like a Gallagher melon.

Going to your given bedroom you take a few minutes to stand in place, before the door once you had already entered. "At least the light's a bit healthier..." you thought, constantly comparing things in which you think with frustration: "Ugh, I really need to stop this!..." Moving out of place, the floor boards creaking with an unnoticeable sound, you fall on your bed to feel the cushion of its mattress, the stress in your back and towards the base of your wings subsiding.

Again, you fall in another period of deep reflection. In the end you didn't come up with any insight or conclusion, it only made you sink into the figurative mud to which you return to your senses after a while longer. A muffled sound could be heard from the wall that's perpendicular to the once nearest to you; it can't discern the noise, and so, you stay and listen.

> Ignore it and go to sleep.
> Put your ears against the wall to listen more clearly.
> Write-in

Prev. Thread >>3065777
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>> *Entangle Lavinia to free yourself*
If I give you an inch you'll take a mile, so hell no.
> *Entangle Lavinia to free yourself*
No. I want you dressed.
> *Entangle Lavinia to free yourself*
New thread: >>3089906

File: KitS OP.png (895 KB, 850x600)
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>Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Kingdoms%20in%20the%20Stars
>Twitter: https://twitter.com/bookerman32
>Combat Rules: https://pastebin.com/efKVVsFb
>Quest Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QJgzvAYgb4Q

The day humanity took to the stars was a day of hope. The Earth had become inhospitable, and it was time to find a new planet to reside. We rallied behind a man who had opened up the universe to us, a new Emperor to lead humanity into the vast expanse of space. All possibilities were opened that day. The stars didn't look any bigger, but instead looked so much brighter. With countless fleets at our side, and a desire in our heart, we held hands and took that first step together into the great unknown. All of humanities petty squabbles had come to an end. Now, we were one force with one common goal. Home. The day that will live on in every history book.

Centuries have passed, and that peace lives only in history. The last Emperor is gone, and the search for a fully habitable planet continues. The Unity of humanity is broken, torn apart by anger and differences in philosophy. Three main fleets served as the new banners, the new Kingdoms in the Stars.

Camelot, the regal and militaristic, rallied behind their Queen Julia Porter.

Athens, the diplomatic and innovative, rallied behind their President Apollo.

Shinto, the traditional and battle-hungry, rallied behind their Chieftain Sun Boros.

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>Ending Theme




Thanks for playing! That concludes the Yellow Turban arc! Follow the Twitter for any updates on the next session!

>Player Question

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>>Player Question
Tao is definitely one of my favourite types of villains, the one who truly believes in what they say even to their own downfall, so of course I liked him in this. Marco's biochip was a bit of a deus ex, but it was set up so I can't really complain, as for whats next, probably some mini arcs with metis chasing us while we do small side stuff which eventually leads to the dong arc.

1. Good intentions, but horrible execution
2. He's a water bender. Good combo with our plants. Use a cactus and soak up all the water.
3. I expect lots of swimsuit mishaps.
>Shaman Tao

Tragic villain. Also a dumbass blinded by his own hype. I don't feel all that sorry for him.

Expected, but cool!

Swimsuits! Also hopefully some alone time with Krista...
Marco's gonna fucking die by murder, one thing I've learned from basically every piece of medium ever is that the shitty prophecies always come true, only question is when. Also Shaman Tao quite literally blew up his own book over karma given to him by his parents as a weapon, which was also the only thing he had ever gotten from them. Sure, he's dead now so he won't feel any real regret over it, but if he had survived that woulda been a little sad, along with his dead bros.

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Thread XCI:
Got closing shifts the next couple days so I can get a few posts in early and skirt the active hours. Would have run sooner, but have been helping out with the family since my father's managed to tear up the tendons in his leg. Nevertheless, lets have a good one.

Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Lamia%20Legacy%20Quest
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LamiaLegacy
Opening Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RCQmQwKEEOM
Story Thus Far: https://pastebin.com/WT9ayv5n
Season: Spring

Money: 5265

Sasha: Skill list
Ranching +4
Scholar +3
Marksmanship +6

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>We'll see.
I don't particularly want to go through a temp agency or the like. The people from them tend to be willing to leave to easily. We'll see about what happens. We should put an add in the papers or something about hiring an innkeeper, a cook, and the other sorts of staff that we'd need to run the place properly. (We need to make sure to pay the janitor well. They get fed up with peoples' shit quickly. They'd probably be pulling double duty as maintenance if reasonable.)

>Where to go next
Let's see if Mari and McCain are still at the redoubt. This conversation's taken 10 minutes at most. Whatever they were doing, it'd probably be taking a bit longer than that.
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"We'll see." You say, "If it wasn't on my property, and I didn't have a personal vested interest in maintaining all aspects of this trade route I'd be a bit more amenable to that suggestion. Not gonna discount it completely, but let Serrak know I'd rather vet my employees personally."

He grins, "Understandable, I'll be lettin him know that when were on the way back." A voice from the work crew pulls his attention away from you.

Figuring that to be a good time to make yourself scarce, you head back towards the ranch. Specifically, you head towards the redoubt where you saw McCain and Marie. Inside you hear a furious hammering of metal on wood, and poking your head inside you see that the two of them are nailing some wooden racking in between the framing timbers. Looking up you can see Marie clinging to one of the support joists. McCain, bristling at the mouth with a number of nails is going along and sinking them into the wooden racking. Not wanting to disturb their delicate process you wait until the pair notice you.

"That missive get relayed alright, then?" You ask, looking at Marie.

"Courier's running it to Snake's landing." She says quickly before frowning slightly, "They seemed to be expecting us. I expect that bugger Serrak put word to them ahead of time."

"Worried about him?" You ask, noting the distaste.

"Yeah, rich buggers like that always have some sort of master plan. Worried we might be playing right into it." She says.

McCain, ever diplomatic, says, "Not much we can do about anything like that at this point. Just figured we ought to turn this fort into a proper munitions depot, since your us with the good stuff, Miss."

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"Well, probably to make as much money as possible. If I had to guess, he's using us for this end, which is what I expected when I got a loan from him. He's put as much effort into getting my own plans working as he has because he thinks it'll make him richer for it too. Now, if he goes and tries to cheat us, I'm going to make damn certain that he immediately regrets that decision very personally, but I believe that, so long as our goals, to make money, and his, also to make money, align to make both of us money, we should be fine. Now, I trust him about as far as I can throw him, but I'd say that all we have to do starting off is make sure to get all of this paid off and he won't really be able to do anything. Worst case scenario is probably him convincing the army that we're doing something illegal and taking our land afterwards, but I somehow doubt that that's his plan."
>this still exists
>its shambling along with 2 players
I don't know why I come to /qst/ sometimes. It just makes me sad.
Participate too if you want things to get better.
I'd like to not be the only one dictating how things go

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One night all alone when the sky was dark, sat alone a manchild a week before Christmas, no love to warm his heart.

Only darkness and gloom as he sat on the web, browsing 4chan no less making fun of the plebs. 'Boo on them, and on everyone else having fun' he thought. As back and forth in his recliner he rocked.

'This season is capitalist, it's hollow and vacant; Of any meaning other than what the bankers gave it. So what if a few celebrate the birth of Christ, it was actually historically closer to spring, so even the Christians can't enjoy their thing. Besides, they stole it from pagans, I watched a special on that by Carl Sagan.'

His home was void of any Christmas decorations. Void of stockings and tinsel and other Christmas creations. He would see none of it this year. Too cynical, jaded and lazy. Decorating the house? What are you crazy?

And it was at this time catching up on his shows, drowning his sorrows in fictional woes.

He heard a knock at his door, he wasn't expecting company. But he'd send them packing for interrupting his sanctity.
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> "What trickery have you come before me with? A busty hoe here trying to peddle her shit? Well your luck has run dry I have not a cent, for a charlatan elf so go and get bent."
"Away, away, this guileful guise. Wherefore do me this wrong?
To think you'd feed me lies that I have known for lies so long.
I've not a thing for you to steal, nor take with me to grave.
Beware and spare me this ordeal - and get thee hence, you knave!"
Listen here lady, you and I both know how the world works and that a cute girl showing up at my doors without intention to commit fraud or size me up for robbery are akin to those of a dragon offering an honest deal.
Good day to you.
>"What trickery have you come before me with? A busty hoe here trying to peddle her shit? Well your luck has run dry I have not a cent, for a charlatan elf so go and get bent."
>Nut on her forehead

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Previous thread

We were going into a dungeon with Mai to level her up, and had decided to favor loot to go back with gifts for the Alquian shadoes, as they seem to be using [Fine] weapons (which is fine, really) but nothing of higher quality.

Thus, we're riding on top of one of Fleur's hydra-like shambling mounds (on it's back? Looks like the back but its a plant, so on the bark?) while hugging our pet flower from behind as she directs the plant monster, with Mai sitting next to us, leaning back on her hands as she crosses her legs and comments about what a cheat our plant is.

"It's alright because she's cute." - we reply while rubbing her head (gently, since she has petals rather than hair)
"Is that how it works?"
"It is." - we repeat

"Ah, Master, love you." - cooes Fleur softly

Oooh, she's being extra cute today... but we're still not letting her eat the loot.

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>Sure, thank you.
>Other: give Lyann and Aritsu kisses for handling the finances. And kiss the other girls so they don't feel left out.
Just quick kisses.
supporting >>3094025
>>Sure, thank you.
>>Other: give Lyann and Aritsu kisses for handling the finances. And kiss the other girls so they don't feel left out.
>Just quick kisses.

We follow the elder into her house, which is nice on its own, given the sight of her soft skin and final-succubus-evolution-curves (definitively a technical term) from behind.

"I'm right here, you know?" - Lyann pokes us on the ribs, gently
"And if you were ahead of me, I would also enjoy watching you go, love." - we reply and pull her in for a quick kiss
"Fuu~ dummy."

The house is... dirty is the wrong word, since it clearly is meant to be this way. Basically, she's made many earth beds for indoor plants almost all over the floor, leaving very little room to stand on in the lobby.

"Please wait in the kitchen." - she says as she leads us there - "I am, growing herbs in this room."

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>"Oh, I have you, don't I?" - kiss and grope her gently
But we're greedy.
>>"Oh, I have you, don't I?" - kiss and grope her gently

This is a story about a man in a forest he was never meant to enter, and his fight for his humanity, freedom, and life, within it.

Actions are freeform, though once per action sequence you may, if you desire, ask for suggestions. I will try to wait until i get 3-5 suggestions, or 15-30 minutes has passed. Action taken will be based on popular consensus, or as tie breaker the most interesting action(not, per say, the smartest).

I will keep track of the inventory, to be posted upon request.

With that, enjoy.

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Summary so far:

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‘you stood above a swamp on a raised hill next to an old tree, the murky water below pock marked with clouds of fog, as you chewed on a granola bar, rifle over your shoulder. You wouldn't look out of place in a militia.

Steven. He was standing next to you, binoculars to his eyes, dressed similarly enough to you. “Sure it's across this thing? Fuck me, i don't see solid land anywhere, we might need a boat…” he lowers the device, scrunching up his face as he looks to you. “Ah shit, don't tell me we're gonna actually drag a canoe all the way out here, it's dangerous enough in this hell forest as it is!”

You only turn to stare off into the swamp. A faint pull at your mind towards something far, far across the waters. “We will do what we must. This is it. The last obstacle. The heart of the forest, its over there for sure.” You say, nodding.

“Well, yeah, i feel it too...but….still…” Steven trails off, as the memory slowly dissolves.’

You briefly feel a shaking motion, someone calling your name, before another memory flood in…

'gun fire. You were chasing something off, before you curse, throwing the gun aside as it jams, rushing past Walter as he gives covering fire, boot slipping off as it hits a root, making you hop one legged for a second, before Walter grabs you and pulls you off to the side as something dashes by.

He looks into your eyes, practically holding you off the ground. Your hands are covered in blood. “Did you get it?!” He says. Your heart is racing. Your breaths shallow. Something bad had happened recently.

“I. I yeah, but, Walter, Mike. Hes, he's in a bad spot, we need to-” you suddenly are thrown to the ground, walter ripping your backpack off your back as he opens it. Something glows orange inside. It makes your skin crawl, your very being go cold in terror.

He slams it shut as you rush to your feet, anger filling your mind as you push him hard into a tree. “The fuck you cunt, you're stepping out of line, you HAVE been for awhile now! For fucks sake, I know you want to-” your eyes go wide as he flicks out his magnum revolver, and aims it at you.

You're not shocked, just pissed. “Oh you fucking shitthead, after everything? Really?” There was a look of genuine regret in Walters eyes, as clicks back the hammer. “We all deserve worse, it's a mercy anyways, we both know that.” You spit.

“So you give up on us as well? Fuck sake, i guess you're right, after what we did to Steven. But fuck me, as if I'm going to die for this!” you twist, your own gun coming out as you get a hit into his leg, but his shot skims deep into the side of your skull.

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You start, vision swimming as air fills your lungs, lurching up. Someone was next to you, saying something, hands clutched tight onto your arm. You blink. This was fucking painful. The memories always came with such spasms, but this was the worst, and perhaps most informative, yet.

You slam your eyes shut, ignoring the person next to you as you push yourself up against the wall. Walter. He had shot you. You had saved Mike, and in turn been infected, or so you guessed. You had….you really had betrayed Steven. But why?!

You slam your fist into the ground, someone jumping, shaking you. Why had this all happened?! What had you found, was it from the 'heart of the forest?’ it had to be, but why?! Why?! You feel your fist shaking, bones cracking as you force them more and more out of place.

And then you go limp, slowly opening your eyes to find Caitlyn next to you, arm stuck in her death grip as she looked at you with horror and deep worry. “Uhh, hi.” You mumble out, rubbing at your aching head.

“G-geezus! A-are you ok?! What was that, like, i- should i get you something, or, uhh.” You slam a finger over her mouth to shut her up as you whisper out “ssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….” Softly. “Im...fine. this happens sometimes. Dont, don't worry yourself over my problems.” You grumble, pulling back as you use the wall to help push yourself to your feet, not fighting as Caitlyn helps you up.

“Sh-shouldn't you sit down for a bit?!” She asks, her worry and fear like sludge in her voice. You just shake your head, waving her off. “I appreciate the thought, and concern, really, i really do.” You sigh, looking down at your hand, as you slowly, unravel the digit's, the sound of cracking and creaking bones making Caitlyn's face go a bit green. “Oh my god…” she whispers, backing away a bit as she covers her mouth. You note your entire index finger is gray now, and a good bit of your palm, your middle finger next to be going away now.

“It's fine.” You whisper. “ its. Its fine. Nothing we can do about it right now. Im infected, remember? Told you all about it.” You smile weakly, meeting her gaze. Her eyes shined with all the pity you never wanted.

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After a quick march up the stairs to the right, you find it lead to a single room. Thankfully open, it lead indeed to the biggest and fanciest room so far, but still a bedroom. It was clean, orderly, as you would expect from his type. You half expected to find wires string all over the place, but he hadn't ever thought you guys would escape, much less kill him, so he probably never saw a reason for boobytraps.

You quickly come to the closet, and swinging it open, find it to be a large walk in one, shelves of random but organized nonsense lining the shelves and in plastic boxes. Stolen trophies from his victims you suppose.

You start to look around, disheartened to see he had not organized by person but item type. Grabbing the best backpack you found from a pile, you get ready for some lootin. No one was probably coming back for these goods anyways.

You end up finding a vest and ammo pouch to wear. An old .45 colt revolver and a holster now sits at your side, alongside two combat knives, having learned to keep extras on yourself. Not much ammo to scrounge up, nor another gun, making you think he was actually picky about what he kept, at least here.

You shove a folding tent into the bag, still in its plastic, and a fire starting box. You also find a lantern light. Not as small as you would like, but it was better than nothing. A rain tarp is next, followed by a small emergency kit.

You don't find anything else really of use, nigh everything else mementos, toys, or knick knacks. Worthless to anyone but whatever poor soul had lost them. The room was dreary in that way, making you wonder just how long he had been trying to make people 'perfect’. Somehow it almost felt like it was better if this was a sign he was a failure, not extremely successful.

Shouldering your backpack, you leave the closet, giving one last, morbid look in as you shut the door. Maybe you understood the thought of burning this place afterall. Such foul memories lingering couldn't attract anything but trouble here, no matter how nice it would be to keep this place intact.

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Scanning the room again, you figure he has to have keys in here, and a quick search of the dresser finds you a big old key ring, bringing a smile to your face. Snatching them up, you notice something else you grab too. A bag of honey sweets. You weren't one flr candy much yourself, but after all this you weren't going to be a picky bastard about any such little gifts you found.

You head out, wanting to get to other goods, and meant to go for the kitchen real quick, when you spot Don down the stairs, just as he goes down the path to the right of the stairs in a strange hurry. You blink, your pace slowing as you make your way to the bottom. He looked worried, but you weren't sure if you should bother the man, but if he did need help…

But that being said, you still had two rooms to the left, and a proper rifle solved many problems. You also couldn't deny your interest in the basement. Just how was this place powered? And who knows what else might be hidden down there….

(Action required)

Gobble Once Again Forgot To Update the Card Edition

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Hey, I’m fully expecting us to quickly and maturely correct the misunderstanding with Keira, okay? As soon as it gets weird we suss this out, no comedy of miscommunications between Herb/Keira/Hana/Laki.
>portal is a lie
Does that make the cake real? I wanna have cake.
Don't worry, I'm sure Hana will somehow talk us into screwing Keira into an ahegao'd mess, while she watches and/or participates. Laki could go either way, but she respects Keira and I half-expect Hana to talk her into it anyways.

But yeah, when the time comes, Herb is the only one who won't know what's going on.
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[That was entirely unintentional, but good catch!]
Y’all are taking the news that Rotom can freely travel through time pretty well, huh?

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[tw: flashing colors]

>Cut off the puppet's strings.

There once was a puppet
Who lived in a box
Tucked away, hidden away,
A chest sealed with locks

But the little girl, all alone
Was desperate for more friends
And without time for amends
Ravaged and broke the locks
And with such unusual desire,

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Check her body.
Get puppet to a bed
>Get puppet to a bed
>Get puppet to a bed
i hope we can carry her
Wait a minute...this isn’t a Five Nights at Freddy’s quest in disguise, is it?

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