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This board is for author-driven collaborative storytelling (i.e., "Quests"). In a quest there is a single author who controls the plot of the story and who drives the creative process. They can choose to take suggestions from other posters, or not, at their sole discretion. Quests can be text-based, image-based, or a combination of the two. Drawfaggotry is strongly encouraged!

To facilitate the author-driven nature of quests, /qst/ differs significantly from other boards in that the OP of a thread is considered the quest's author, and has some basic text formatting abilities: [b], [i], and color tags [red], [green], and [blue]. Therefore, only those people willing to put in the effort to be a quest author should post threads. If you do not intend to run a collaborative story, do not post a thread here! This includes meta-threads.

Dice rolling follows /tg/'s format (e.g., "dice+2d6" without the quotes in the options field rolls 2d6).
Current board settings:

Anyone can post images.
Anyone can use painter.
Anyone can use dice & spoilers.
Only OP can use text formatting.
3000 character limit.
750 bump limit.
Decreased post timer to match /tg/ (30 seconds for text, 60 seconds for an image reply).
Automatic permasage after 72 hours.
Thread specific user IDs.
Max threads per IP is 5.
Standard 7 day internal archive.

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It doesn't matter who you were before, those dreams are behind you now because you've awakened to your full potential. In a flash of thunderous revelation you've ascended into a Wizard, a living nexus of arcane power and mystic savant that a court of archmages would envy. As a Wizard your understanding of the magic in the world is unrivaled but your soul is aligned to a specific aspect more deeply than anyone has ever been or ever will be again. You will learn many forms of magic in the centuries to come but this one will be your eternal foundation.

>Choose a Focus from the 30 Disciplines.


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97 replies and 7 images omitted. Click here to view.
Rolled 20 (1d100)

Rolled 35 (1d100)

Rolled 29 (1d100)

The energy is densest where the rust is pitted. You aren't sure why but you suspect it has something to do with the corrosion of the iron. Maybe you can counter that or even reverse it by forcing the energy that's on it outward. You set the sword on the ground and step away before you make the attempt. Bleeding from an artery is a bad time to learn how to heal yourself with magic. Best to be safe.

You take the energy in the sword and try to push it against the rust. The energy flakes against your own but only slowly and there's no physical sign of any progress. There might not be enough energy to revert the rust so you pour some more and try to intensify the pushing. It flakes more rapidly and you hold your focus on it for ten minutes, then there's a silent cracking noise, and a much louder one, and you open your eyes just when the sword snaps into three pieces along where the rust was thickest. You can sense the energy you poured dissipating.

The sword is ruined and without a way to reforge it, can't be salvaged. Damn.

>Where do you go from here?
well.... that's unfortunate. I hate to be without a melee weapon. Let's do our best to make a club or fighting staff of some kind, with the very keen intent on making it a *weapon*.

You are treading along the dirt road, wearing but simple unconscious traveling clothes with a cape and hood for the rainy days. You are unsure if you should wear it regardless. You would look completely human if not for that blasted skin condition. Why can’t the world have any other races that are completely ashen gray? Although maybe you could try to pass for a weird dark elf, but being tan and gray are very different. Maybe you can say you are some weird reverse-albino? No that would just make you even less conspicuous.

Even without persecution, travel is not easy. You don’t have anything besides a handful of precious gems in your pocket, gifted to you when you departed. Luckily your needs to sleep is considerably less than the average man’s, and eating is mostly just a luxury on the side.

The true difficulty is in being completely alone however. No known higher authority to put behind your words, no army to have at your beck and call, no reputation to lean on. Only your mission, and its first step; rescuing a pair of imprisoned VIPs from the city of Thargio. At least no one knows you are coming. Not even them. You’ve spent the entire night and most of the dawn on a marathon to cut down the 3 days of travel.
You suddenly slow down when a crossroads begins to form before you. A man sitting on a carriage drawn by horses enters the road and turns toward your destination.

>Approach him and ask if you can hitch a ride
>Let them pass, you will run the next night too and avoid people
>Hitch a ride without them noticing
>Write-in (these are always an option even if I forget to list them)
41 replies and 2 images omitted. Click here to view.
Back and writing. Seeking clues.
You decide to seek clues. The streets have cobblestones making simple tracking impossible. There are only two guards outside, but the gate is heavy enough that only a mechanism from the inside could open it, likely connected to the tiny tower on top of the gate. Walking around the estate, you note that most of the other mansions do not have guards at the gates, or just only one. Then again, no other mansion nearby can rival the size of Caibalar Mansion.

You also note that there have been some housekeeping recently. Some sections of the wall have been cleared of vines recently, leaving a barely perceptible coloration on the stone. On other parts, trees that had branches hanging over were sawed off. As if someone recently took some extra steps for the walls to remain hardly scalable. Nothing drastic like a renovation, just little things that a dozen people with tools and sharp eyes could get done.

Upon your second round around the estate, you witness some movement that you believe to be a shift change among the guards. You take up position at a distance and angle where you can see more. However after the gates open they do not seem to go anywhere. A man leads on the front, carrying himself with importance and being used to commanding others. Wearing a somewhat embellished overcoat, and a shining metal right arm peeking out from beneath his sleeve. He has four men in fitting but more simple uniforms.

The only one not fitting in is the meek-looking girl between them, wearing a simple servant clothes. Beneath hear tight headkerchief, you can see two small bumps that indicate something beneath them.
“Now what should we do with you?” the man in the front asks theatrically. You don’t hear it properly, but you can read his lips.
“I know, go to the market, and buy the biggest piece of boneless meat you can find, and get back here.” when she fidgets without moving, he yells at her “Didn’t you hear me?! Go!”
Once she hurries off, he waves to one of the man to keep an eye on her. The leader rubs his hands together jovially and sets off to his own path.

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>Follow the girl and the guard
>Follow the man and his entourage
He seems important
>>Follow the man and his entourage

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21 - Biden's first day
Melania Trump
Does this look like /pol/ or /x/ to you, you subhuman homunculus? Fuck off.
“I see you’re having trouble gangstalking me in class”, the shitposter said, with a shit eating grin. “This is just the beginning, I can shitpost about everything. You talk the talk, but can you stalk the stalk?”

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You've been a miner as long as you can remember. There was never a choice for you, the eldest of three, two sisters who have been married away into better lives--dowries paid by your own sweat and toil, and no shame in it--and not much to boast of besides your hard, stubborn body. Never much mind for schoolwork. Your father had aspirations to get you into an apprenticeship at the forge, and even managed to convince Zahradnik, the blacksmith. The weight of the hammer was right enough in your hands but something about the heat and the flame scared you fierce. When you confessed it to your father, with shameful tears in your eyes, he said nothing. No beatings. Not a harsh word. "Well, alright son," he said. "Let it be."

There is a kind of respect that comes with lineage. Three generations of miner, five score years of muscle and steel against the hard earth puts a little more iron in your blood than the common man. But you don't pay it much mind. You will admit a certain feel for the tunnels that comes, a certain smell and palpitation--you're not sure there's words for it, but you'll swear by it--and it feels like you can swing forever and know right where to dig. You've found the odd pocket or two by it, more than once, but that isn't really the point. And anyway it's not something you like to talk about. Don't want people to think you're crazy. When it does happen though, it's a good day.

Today isn't one of those days. Today, Roland, your newly appointed partner (ever since Gorbals got sick), has been sneaking mouthfuls from a suspicious metal canteen hidden down his coat. You've been working as hard as you can, trying to pick up his slack so you can get home on time. Today's the one day you can't be late, no matter what. Roland isn't making it easy though, there's only so far one man can go in a two man job.

>Scold Roland, down here his blueblood means nothing, take his liquor and force him to work
>Tell Heyerfields about this, maybe you can get someone to sub out for today
>Grin and bear it, Roland is only down here as punishment from his father, the noble Sir Baldwin, best not to stir trouble
45 replies and 1 image omitted. Click here to view.
>Bear with it, the pits are the most dangerous part of the mine but also have double the wage, it'll be alright
>Thank Roland, times have been hard lately, hardly anyone can even afford a drink
>Bear with it, the pits are the most dangerous part of the mine but also have double the wage, it'll be alright
“Thanks for the doubled pay Roland!”
>Bear with it, the pits are the most dangerous part of the mine but also have double the wage, it'll be alright

Also liking >>4616054 and >>4616074
>>Bear with it, the pits are the most dangerous part of the mine but also have double the wage, it'll be alright
I bear with it but bring a mine canary with me for early warning.

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The Grail War continues, and you're about to undergo a dangerous assault.

You are Shinji Makiri, Ten years ago you suddenly found yourself with the memories of a complete past life that saw this world as a fictional story due to some unprecedented form of inter-dimensional transportation. Since that day, your new composite being has been working to change the grim future laid out for you.

To that end, you have done much, involving yourself with events and situations that have shifted the future away from the one that you once would have faced and instead onto one of uncertainty and chaos.

The Fifth Holy Grail War lies ahead of you, and the challenge and danger it represents to you, the people you care for and the world itself is far greater than you could have ever predicted. Though the grail might be corrupted and the war itself might be a sham, the stakes couldn't be higher.

Archive of Paradox Reincarnator: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Fate/Paradox%20Reincarnator
General Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=WhatIsAQM
Status Menu: https://pastebin.com/LhUfnHD2
275 replies and 34 images omitted. Click here to view.
Here's a theoretical scenario for you, WhatIs: Shirou reciting the UBW aria, but Saber is doing it alongside him and both are holding hands, right there in the middle of a fight as the enemy lets them do their thing just the way Nasu wrote.
And did Shirou get Arondight seen and recorded into UBW before Lancelot died? Can we congratulate the Servants on the clean Lancelot kill and recap them on him? Can we still heal Shuten, and what's her current condition?
Arondight is a divine construct, Shirou can't replicate it unless he buddies up with a fairy and gets Gaia to give him the ability to do so.
So I guess we'd need him to befriend Arcade if we want him doing that.
Now I think about it, getting Shirou authorization and resources from the planet to create Divine Constructs would be the coolest upgrade for him.
A contract to Gaia is a little harder than one to Alaya but we can just ask Arc if she can help us out if we do her a big enough favour.
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Oh, going for a bombardment, are we?
saturated bombardments are safer than strolling right in

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An illustrated civilization quest.
Neolithic to bronze age technology.
Some magic/fantasy elements.
Updates once a day.
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Labashi: "There's good clay under this cracked earth over here Burniburiash. Once we get a kiln I can make some pottery."
Burniburiash: "Hmm, yes. Noted Labashi... Want to try smoking these pink flowers with me?"
Tools are essential for the long term, but the village needs food NOW
Vote spears you fools
We're already gathering fruit, so there's not much need for food, but spears can also be used to protect the tribe.
> Tools

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The sweet embrace of death surrounds you, taking with it the pain and bitterness that you once held. You had all your ducks in a row, and all that was left was to just do it, and now your reward was to be enveloped in the waters of oblivion, where none of who you were even mattered anymore.

If only the waters of oblivion weren’t at a gross body temperature, it might be a tad more relaxing.

Wait a minute, you’re thinking too much for someone at the verge of death, and you think you can even feel your legs. SON OF A BITCH IF SOMEONE IS TRYING TO SAVE YOU, YOU’LL KILL ‘EM

As you slowly come to, you begin to realise you’re hooked up to oxygen and suspended in some sort of fluid filled tube... just like in one of those sci-fi flicks you used to watch. Someone has a real gross sense of humor.

Focusing a moment, you can hear panic and claxons blaring just outside of your chamber. You recognize the voices somehow, they’re in a strange language that you somehow understand. You catch bits and pieces, some bad techno babble it sounds like. Something about a cyberattack, and the production run being compromised somehow? Now they’re going on about how the previous soul hasn’t been reformatted yet, and that the wrong data got uploaded?

>Memories seem to float in and out of your head. Just what did they try sticking in there?
35 replies and 9 images omitted. Click here to view.
>Spend EXP
Boost Perception as much as possible.
Save any leftover exp for later.
>Mimicry: You can mimic the voice and mannerism of anyone you've heard or seen! Add [B][B][B] to any Deception check you make to impersonate someone.
>Unfortunately due to this increase in metabolism you do need to eat twice as much as usual to survive.
Spend (EXP): Cunning - mimic the sound of animals in heat to draw their mates for an ambush.
>(Spend EXP) Something might help us here.
>even split between Brawn and Agility, to make the most use of our claws
It's coordination, not perception
We need perception

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Welcome to the Scrapworld. There may be multiple QMs rotating in and out of this one shot. Expect high lethality.

In the twinkling expanse of the Silent Stars there are countless worlds, gems of civilizations, mundane colonies, entire planets devoted to harvest of resource, and places embroiled in war. This place was none of these.

1 - It was an arid wasteland with abandoned equipment and workers.
3 - A planetary scrapyard of unwanted material and occasionally people.
2 - It was a graveyard of orbital debris, ships, and derelict stations in orbit around a nameless gas giant.
4 - The quarantine zone was the world, and the world was forgotten.
5 - It was an unauthorized development founded on the refuse of the galaxy, thriving and lawless.
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Rolled 10, 32 = 42 (2d100)

>>Hold on, try to climb up. (small ofo, but maybe big oof) 2d100
>44 oof.

The flimsy bridge collapses, sending you slamming into the side of a building, bits of glass tearing through the thick fire resistant coveralls and embedding down below. Impact deadened nerves fail you as your exoskeleton clings on to one of the remaining structural cables.


You come to with blood in your eyes, not too sure how long it has been. With a grunt and a hiss of the suit, you haul yourself up into the shattered entry of the next building. There is glass in you, but trying to pick it out hurts too bad. Its more than stuck. Fuck. You know damn well the infection has grabbed onto the inorganic material, soon each puncture will be a spread of new....whatever the hell it is.

At least your handwork sent the freaks down about 20 stories, they wont be getting back up. You are inside of an office building, not too far from the MPB. This level has an obvious path to the next skywalk, and nearby is an automat. The hermetically sealed food keeps for a while at least.

>Berseker pack defeated
>Grab a bite to eat and see about those injuries.
>Just press on.

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We need to force out these glass pieces out of us. The risk for infection is too great even if we start bleeding.
>Grab a bite to eat and see about those injuries.
>Grab a bite to eat and see about those injuries.

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Heart pounding in terror you flee the battle engulfing your burning village, the men fighting to buy time for women and the young to flee, for you to flee. A part of you cries out to help them, but that would render their sacrifice moot. It would be suicidal, but that doesn't make running feel any less shameful. One pale hand maintains a tight hold on your mother’s ruby pendant, the other keeping your tightly bound leather satchel pulled close to your chest. Robes and cloak flap in the chill winter wind as your uncle’s final command drives you forward through the darkening woods.

“Frauke, run! Go!”

Stumbling footfalls carry you through the undergrowth, fresh fallen snow crunching underfoot as you navigate between thickets and duck under low branches, half-blind from grief and barely able to see ahead. With a sudden lurch you’re tripping, falling, your cloak and robes catching on an old fallen branch as you slide down a slope in the darkness. Brief tugging resistance sends you into a short spinning roll as cloth tears and the branch snaps. Air slams from your lungs as you crash into the snow covered earth a few meters below, the sudden impact narrowing your perception in a flash of pain and sending your wide-brimmed pointed hat flopping into the snow. The chill of snow pressed close against your face brings you back to your senses after a few delirious moments. The downward slope to the river cliff was closer than you expected, your sense of time distorted by panic. The real cliff can’t be much further. Wincing with aches and cuts from the fall, you struggle to your knees and search through the snow in the fading light, quickly collecting your fallen hat and finding the pendant among the snow.

The howling of a war hound echoes through the woods, one of the mercenary’s beasts having caught your scent. It sounded close. Gripping the pendant tightly you resume your run into the depths of the woods, the pendant’s sharp corners biting into your skin and drawing a small trickle of blood. Blood imbued with a rare power, the very same power that pulses through your mother’s pendant and the veins of the world far below you:


Glancing back over your shoulder you spot the hound atop the slope you rolled down, set loose by its handler to run down those fleeing the village. It’s an ugly square faced beast, heavy muscle rippling under short brown and black fur, eyes almost ablaze as they catch the fading daylight. With a few quick leaps it agiley navigates down the slope, gaining quickly with powerful strides. Damn your short legs, you’ll never even come close to outrunning it, but the riverside cliffs can’t be much further. The water runs deep on this side, and it’s safe to jump from the cliffs… in the summer, at least. Freezing waters might be worse than any hound.
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“D-drakes? Really? I g-guess the criers do e-exaggerate everything!” You shout back, speech stuttering as you shiver in the cold night air. Crossing your arms and keeping them close to conserve heat, you move to a nearby tree and keep its trunk between you and the wind.

“HA! I knew it would look convincing!” The bearded man shouts triumphantly, turning back toward the wagons briefly to exchange a look with his blue hooded companion who gives an exaggerated shrug in response. The other ‘Drakes’ are setting about dealing with the wounded, treating their own as best they can and finishing off the wounded of the enemy with careful dagger thrusts. It’s deeply unsettling to watch, but common practice for dealing with those too wounded to treat. A small part of you feels glad seeing their fate, with what their company just did to Brokhof and your uncle.

”Worry not, mage, we’ve got fire in our veins as true as any other Drakefang! This southern junk,” he clangs a gauntleted fist against his breastplate, ”Is merely to disguise our presence on the road east! Come out from there and join us, we’ve got plenty of stew!

Disguises? Plausible, but also a simple lie to tell. You take a few more moments to think things over, watching the men carefully as they go about the grim work of cleaning up after the skirmish. Can you really trust these people? It’s difficult to get a solid sense of their intentions, the large one speaking like a friend even as the rest execute the wounded.

“Come on, girl! It’s too cold to be wandering alone in the woods. We owe you a debt for that witchery, whatever it was!”

>Cautiously join them, the warmth of fire and a good stew sounds heavenly right now.
>Question them further from the relative safety of the woods, then decide. (Write-in)

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>Cautiously join them, the warmth of fire and a good stew sounds heavenly right now.

Frauke is in bad shape, I'm not sure she has the resources to survive a night alone in the woods. Time to gamble
>Cautiously join them, the warmth of fire and a good stew sounds heavenly right now.
>Cautiously join them, the warmth of fire and a good stew sounds heavenly right now.
No point in freezing to death
>Cautiously join them, the warmth of fire and a good stew sounds heavenly right now.
The enemy of our enemy is our friend, for now.

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Previous Thread: >>4606545

Discord Server: https://discord.gg/2TgSE3UAtu

Your name is Jonovan Solaris. Your runes are Dragon, Wind, and Light, thus you have a pair of tiny blue dragon wings and horns. You may or may not look like OP image, but I have a limited number of images in my weebkitsch folder and this is the one that resembles him the most. Personally, i've always imagined Jonovan with a slightly tan skin tone because he does have only one Dragon Rune.

You are travelling through the mountains to rescue Jenny Chalker, a human scientist whom you deeply admire.

It is almost sundown. You are exhausted beyond belief. Your travelling partners, the human Sneeda Hanzmillo and the kobolds Odway and Halwenn, have barely made it up to this valley. It is hidden behind the others, and perpetually hidden beneath the shadow of taller mountains.

A shallow river lined with crystals as tall as your knee trickles through the twilight vale. Not a single ray of sunlight hits it, yet it glistens like spring water. Purple carp swim through the currents. There is an odd humidity here: the macroclimate, although situated amid snowy mountains, is tropical. There is no grass, but barrel trunked trees burst from the wet stone, piles of rubble scattered at their roots.

At the corner of the vision you glimpse it: It is none other but the Diamond Moon Flower, a magical plant that can purify the waters of Lake Skobine, leading the way to Mount Nicagont, where Jenny is being held captive. You cannot see much of it from this distance: On a tiny hump of grass poking out of the stream, it glows languidly like the light of the moon on a hot night.
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That's normal. Suck it up and stop bumping other people's threads down. At least wait until you're Page 5 if you have to be early about it. Jesus christ.
My apologies. I'm quite new to this board and I saw someone else do this with no one calling him out, so I'll keep that in mind the next time I post.
I would have fucking hated to wait a whole week for a continuation of the story, so I really like not having to wait a whole week. You can't please everyone.
> Use Headwind to redirect the wind so it fills up the chasm between you and Dianecci
We can use the time the chasm is blocked to get the flower and figure out with our teammates how to defeat him. I hope the flower is not crushed by the boulders, maybe a tiny light shield can be tossed over it.
but of course rip and "f" for whatever thread died for the impatience.

McSnickers Dickerson was an ordinary man who once had a career as a Clown. Now, as a worker in Nanotrasen, he aims to advance the field of robotics and bring about the future of augmentations. However, it should also be known that McSnickers has already caused a station to be evacuated. Now, what will happen when the Crew is stupid and the Traitors much more dangerous?

McSnickers Dickerson
Standard Skills
Social Skills
>Authority: 10
>Fellowship: 50
>Conspiracy: 25

Intellectual Skills
>Technology: 40
>Machines: 10
>Atmospherics: 0
>Chemistry: 0
>Biology: 25

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“Does not matter, I guess.” I said while shaking my head while taking out a small disk, “Lets just get this done and over with.”

With a determination in my movement I took out the disk and placed it into the Exosuit Fabricator, the machine’s interface not very welcoming in my opinion. However, that does not matter, as I was able to get the machine to read my disk and release to me a normal size arm.

“Blessings of the Omnissiah upon me, I shall get to work.” And with that I took out a small screwdriver and started to get to work.

Since I was more machine than man, there are some perks that come up. For one, I realized that I can easily remove various body parts and replace them with a counterpart. So with a small gritting of my, well, ‘teeth’ I took a screw driver to my arm.

First the covering on top where my shoulder would be was removed, revealing a series of bolts under wires. Of course the first thing I needed to do was regulate the wires, so a little work with the Multitool fixed that right up. Finally, I got to the bolts that were holding it in place.

“Fucking…” I shook my head as I wielded the wrench above the final one, “Blessings upon the Omnissiah, I shall commit the, uh, rite of removal I think.”

With a turning of the wrench my right arm fell onto the ground, though I was surprisingly not in any pain. Still, losing an arm like this is kinda unnerving the more I think about it.

“Hehe, well time to get my next one on.” I said while readying my wrench.

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>Try a hand pressure test
It's the most important test.

>Starting with something like a stress ball for motor control. Move on to trying to squeeze a rubber tire for upper pressure limit. Then squeeze something as delicate as an egg but equally as unimportant to see how control is.
adding up using jellys and other fluids
Backing >>4615993
"It was as if I did not really have control of the unit."
Hmm, is this a slave arm? Did the Magos include a control relay. That would be a pretty heretic thing to do Sir Magos.

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You are Sugimoto Daisuke, the 49 year-old vice-president of the Tokyo Branch of Junpei Office Supplies. Recently, in a bid to escape the existential suffering that is your everyday life dominated by work, you decided to chase your childhood dreams and become a superhero. Now you're also Salary Man, Tokyo's very own defender of justice, honor, and all around good morals.

Today is your second time 'on patrol', and you're currently at a concert. An old friend of yours is working security and offered you a free ticket. Figuring that the relative chaos of a concert might offer more opportunities for heroics than the litterbugs of Shibuya, you decided to come. To your surprise, it ended up being a metal concert. Now you're lost as to what exactly is normal and what's not in such an unfamiliar environment, and are trying to figure out how best to ensure order amongst the controlled madness raging around you.

Archives: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Salary%20Man
Twitter: https://twitter.com/QmWalrus
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>Tell their friends to make sure they're alright and look for Takeo, maybe he's up to something interesting.
>Tell their friends to make sure they're alright and look for Takeo, maybe he's up to something interesting.
Hey, OP, you should make a discord for this quest
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They have friends, even if they're a little drunk- oh, they vomited again- er, A LOT drunk, they should be fine. You pick out the onlookers that have been around the longest, figuring they probably know them, and starting going down the list of essentials. Make sure they're on their side when they vomit, make sure they can't hit their head when they pass out, and so on and so forth. After a quick lecture on the important points of caring for drunks you leave the bar and look around for Takeo. There's not a ton around here drawing your interest, so you may as well talk to him for a while. Maybe he found something interesting.

Fortunately for you Takeo is easy to find as he is essentially a massive, brightly-colored landmark. Even among a crowd with foreigners he stands out- he has to be at least 190cm, if not taller. He's currently standing near the front of the crowd, hand in the air, his head rapidly shaking like some sort of spring. You guess he's doing that headbang thing you've heard about. You attempt to navigate through the crowd and reach him.

It's a struggle to make your way through the crowd. People are polite and try to give way for you when they can, but the crowd is densely-packed in places and many people don't notice you until you're already trying to squeeze past them. The going is slow but steady, and after a couple minutes you've almost reached Takeo.

Just as you're hoping your journey is over, you spot something suspect about 10 feet away from you. There's a man and a woman standing next to each other, and the man is, for lack of a better term, fondling the woman's buttocks. This in itself isn't a criminal act, but given that the woman has swatted his hand away several times now, this could be a case of groping. Then again, she hasn't done anything but slap the hand away a couple of times. Maybe you're overreacting and they're dating? You wouldn't want to misunderstand things.
>Everything is really loud, but they can probably hear you from here. Draw attention to the possible crime in progress, hopefully someone nearby will intervene. (Physique challenge)
>Make your way through the crowd and approach the man. Next time he reaches his hand out you'll grab it yourself. If it's a misunderstanding then you'll apologize and leave, and if not it's a job well done.
>Get to Takeo and give him a heads-up on what's going on. With his help you should be able to clear the way to them much more easily. On the flip-side, you think he's going to draw attention to everything, whether you want it or not.
>Ignore the situation and head over to Takeo. You wouldn't want to embarrass them if it's just a misunderstanding- if she does need help there's plenty of people who can provide it.
Is that generally needed? None of the quests I follow have one and if anyone wants to talk about decisions they can do it in thread.
>Ignore the situation and head over to Takeo. You wouldn't want to embarrass them if it's just a misunderstanding- if she does need help there's plenty of people who can provide it.

Its optional
>Make your way through the crowd and approach the man. Next time he reaches his hand out you'll grab it yourself. If it's a misunderstanding then you'll apologize and leave, and if not it's a job well done.
If a fuss is made we can just shout about how he's getting too handsy.

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Sorry for the delay, can confirm I am not dead. Also, I made a Pastebin as requested so have fun with that.

approximately one year ago, there was a solar eclipse and, during that period of darkness, Pokemon appeared upon the Earth. It took only a small period of hysteria before people embraced the Pokemon and, within months, the first Pokemon Tournament was held in Tokyo, Japan. You are Andrew Gwan, a broke 18-year-old living with his mother in New York City. After graduating high school, you decided that your goal in life would be to become a Pokemon trainer and win the 2nd Annual Pokemon Tournament.

With the help of some Japanese Guy larping as Ash Ketchum and your new friend who uses a Zubat (now Golbat) as his ace, you are going to compete in an official tournament at Greenbelt Park so you can get the sweet cash prize of $5000 and a chance at fighting the first gym leader.

You have battled your way to the finals and now the toughest fight is going to start, probably.

>311 days until the start of the World Tournament
Previous thread:

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Well, you did it. Coming straight outta highschool you thought that working for minimum wage would be your life dream but instead, you thought of something better. Saving up some money you managed to get some Pokeballs and capture some Rattatas, then you proceeded to work your way up and capture a Litwick who was named Gasper. You battled in greenbelt for a bit and met Satoshi and joined together in a tournament by Subway and won it, with the money you bought more Pokeballs and captured Joltik then took a trip to Montauk where you found Gible and another friend. Together you trained for an official tournament by the local league, added an Eevee to your party, got a rival and battled your way to the semi-finals. Just this morning you captured a Trubbish and are now in the finals. Who knew not going to college or university would work out well like this.

“Andrew? Andrew wake the fuck up.”

You are brought back from the void by Kyle’s voice as he aggressively shakes you.

“The Ryan Gosling fuck is battling now and by the looks of it, this is going to take a while.”

You survey the battle and see that the Edge lord is using a Nuzleaf, really makes you think about what happened to his Phantump.

You look down and see your Pokemon watching intently, at least it is keeping them entertained.

If you manage to win the finals then not only will you get quite a lot of cash but also the chance to battle the first gym leader so that's great.

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>Make a plan with Satoshi and Kyle since it worked pretty well last time
We are THE Brains of the team
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Well since the plan (only one you made) worked last time lightning must strike twice, right?

“Kyle, Satoshi gather around it's time to formulate a plan.”

Satoshi immediately turns but you have to bop Kyle’s head to get his attention.

“Plan huh? All right let's hear it.”

“When I said to formulate a plan it meant a group effort.”

“Rook over rhere, Gosling uses dark types.”

Huh, ⅔ Pokemon are part dark type while his other one is probably Rhyhorn a ground type.

“Dark-type huh? Do we have anything that can counter it?”

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>Accept the barebones plan

>Play with your Pokemon to keep their spirits high
We are at park so we can play (warm up), right?

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Barnabas Von Blum had but a brief respite from the responsibilities of office, the multitude of plans and approvals by his family and appointed officials. Matters of maintenance, security, contingencies, just for the best case scenario. The one that ideally would pass. It was said that preparing for a disaster helped to ensure that the preparations turned out to be superfluous, and the Territorial Lord sincerely hoped such was the case. One felt the Reich breathing down one’s neck with particular predatory ambition in times like these. He knew at least a few were prodding about- the Archduchy and the Reich were on peaceable terms, but both were ready for such to change at a moment’s notice. Something so small as putting these open agents under arrest would be a bold move as of now. They’d find out little, anyways, just from rumors and walking about, as they were restricting themselves to. He was not taking his time off to relax, or entertain himself. Instead, the high noble went to an old font of spite. Once a friend- much as one of his duplicitous ilk could be considered one. After, a source of potential might. Now, a mere reminder of others whom he had affected- people Von Blum wanted more than this comatose husk he was obligated to house.

Lord Barnabas Von Blum stared disdainfully at the hooded pile of rags before him- decrepit, pathetic. Once so mighty. Yet he looked no different outwardly than he had so long ago, over two score years ago. Before Barnabas had even married the first time. When Miriam had been a decade his junior, and he never would have imagined her to be the love of his life. That fateful day, when seeking ancient secrets, he had found one he had not anticipated…and been extended a deal. A relationship ending here, with this old sorcerer rusting away in a chair, not having opened an eye, spoken, or done anything at all for near three years, after having steadily deteriorated into this present state, yet no further.

Despite this, Von Blum wished for a conversation. He spoke his demands, and answered them in his mind.

“What a sorry end to your life you have sown. No small amount of regrets must weigh on your shoulders.”

”I regret naught. I only ever paid mine debts to you, and gave so generously much in doing so. Your aid through the years was ever appreciated at least in kind.”

“You took her from me. You stole her away. Is that proper repayment for my own actions when you were in need?”

”I took nothing. I gave you all you asked for.”
118 replies omitted. Click here to view.
>>You needed to get van Halm and his crew to treatment, fast, and with the lines in the state they were, that meant you had to break through with your tank.
Panzergrens are pulling out soon anyway; our tank will be better used on the offensive breaking through the line.
>You needed to get van Halm and his crew to treatment, fast, and with the lines in the state they were, that meant you had to break through with your tank.
>>You needed to get van Halm and his crew to treatment, fast, and with the lines in the state they were, that meant you had to break through with your tank.
I don't balk at the capability of the panzergrenadiers, but down to one tank, I don't think we can offensively consider much and the defense of the line is going to be that much easier with those heavy guns taken care of. The one thing I know we can do for certain is more fast and keep our people safe, so I think we should do just that.
>You needed to get van Halm and his crew to treatment, fast, and with the lines in the state they were, that meant you had to break through with your tank.

Man alive, these lines here are a complete mess. But whatever - get him and his men to the Medical Company. And maybe us too.
>You needed to get van Halm and his crew to treatment, fast, and with the lines in the state they were, that meant you had to break through with your tank.

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