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Chapter 3, Part 2.
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Mobile Operation Godzilla Universal Expert Robot Aero-type.

So this was what the human had in store. A mecha! It was almost as tall as Super Mechagodzilla, but certainly not as mighty. Godzilla recognized this type of battle machine, one of them was fighting the aliens in the same city where he faced off against Zetton at. It seems the human had a crafty means of getting inside of it quickly with a teleportation system. Perhaps they salvaged what they could find left of Zetton after that battle in order to study it's skin and unlock the secret to teleportation...

Godzilla just clung onto the metal edge of the machine for dear life, huddled inside the right claw of the burrowing mecha. It was just barely open enough to provide a view of Vancouver city from above as MOGUERA rose to full height out of the ground. What looked like some kind of huge missile meant for Monster sized opponents was right behind Godzilla.

The mecha had treads for feet, and began rolling across the city below, crunching buildings and aliens alike as it sped towards the Dada's ship moving away ahead. That Yuki human wasn't going to let it get away! He was going to ram it! Godzilla, for a moment, genuinely felt the fear of being crushed by something bigger for the first time in his life! This was outrageous!

The mighty human machine thrust forward! The right claw of the mecha punctured the hull of the Dada's Super Shrink Ship like a sword through flesh! The impact so strong it nearly tipped the ship over in mid-air as well.

Lasers and other artillery projectiles went flying as MOGUERA retracted it's hand and swiveled around on it's waist to fire back with bursts of plasma bolts from it's two 'eyes', scorching and obliterating blocks of the city streets.

For now, it seemed that Yuki was enacting the next part of the plan. Distracting the alien forces. With his ability to burrow using MOGUERA's digging and drilling functions, he'd certainly be able to hold out for a while.
Meanwhile, Godzilla was just recovering from the crash of being inside that claw which punched a hole into the hull of the Dada ship. He was within the very bowels of the device that shrunk him, so that meant it was time to go through with his role in Jet Jaguar's plan; Take it over from the inside.

These corridors were tight, and there would be alien defenders within awaiting him. He'd need to find wherever the controls for this infernal technology was, and link up with Jet Jaguar, who'd be joining him soon enough.

Mentally thanking himself for being wise enough never to trust that idiot Battra for anything, Godzilla snorted and stood up, brushing debris off. He was on the cusp of returning to full size, and when he did, the battle would truly start...

Alright, that'll be it for this thread. I will return with another one. I need to think some things out about this quest and my other Star Wars one first briefly.
This wasn't a very long thread compared to the others. Worrisome. I hope things go well on your end.

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You are Kolinasi Keiko Whatiri.

You have won your first real battle, fought against both Ganth and Drukhari.

Now you are taking your- surprisingly to you- small warp ship to a planet called Nuceria.

Unknown to you, the home of the Primarch of the Twelfth Legion, Angron.

Your new friend, crewmate, rebellion starter and all around troublemaker has given you advice on approaching this planet, but you think you have a better strategy.

“Charon, if you prefer I have a different idea and I want your opinion.” You say and Frank looks at you strangely.

“Of Course Friend.” Charon says.

“Are there any active rebel groups on the planet’s surface that we can make contact with that would likely aid us? Make our fight easier?” You ask and Charon smiles.

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It's part of the mystery!

Did one escape to the tunnel?

Did they transfer their minds to someone else?

Was there a designated survivor who was disguised?

Only one way to discover!
>>> Try to run to the otherside of the tunnel, you could probably catch them if You run your fastest
>>> Frank, Uncle, Arona and Deliah- cause a scene down there, delay them as long as possible.
>>> Jera, prepare to go that mountain, we may have someone trying to escape

>Captcha: KKK4VA
Gonna update tomorrow. Got roped into a double shift.

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I've had this fun idea to build a fictional realm from the ground up along with the qst boys.

A learned man sits down with the child of a powerful man. As is custom, he imparts upon him the knowledge he has of the history of your kin. He inhales the sweet smoke from his pipe and lets out a grey cloud as he begins...

"In the earliest of ages, man settled. They toiled the ground so it bore fruit as they demanded and left old lifestyles. Our ancestors...
>Settled the earliest, forming one of the larger cities of the time.
>Split from another city and travelled far to found another.
>Remained nomadic, maintaining tradition."
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Seconding this
>> the creeping influence of Chul traders, who intermarried with local Jrana, spreading their religion with them. A tipping point came when several Jrana rulers converted as well, using their shared religion to forge ever closer trade ties with the united city. Their conversion and growing influence over trade prompted punitive action from the rest of the confederation, in which several Chul trader were killed and Ergomeadhe trade ships were sunk.

High Priest Julianos was quick to act, making diplomatic overtures to the Jrana faithful.

The following military campaign was swift, with rebellious city states rallying around the banner of the King of Ergomeadhe, overwhelming the rest of the confederation. In the aftermath, the allied city-states pledged fealty to the King while other former confederation cities were occupied.
go on...
Oh, that's clever. Is it too much, though?
are you back?

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You hadn’t really thought about it, but you have to admit that there’s a bit of irony that the girl who’s all about acting and showing off and whatnot is the one asking you for introductions into the movie industry. Life’s funny like that. But, you can’t help but huff as you consider it. She’d probably get a real kick out of it to boot, and it’d be nice to have someone there that you know- but ultimately, it’s not your decision to make. “No promises,” you warn. “But I’ll at least mention you. Everything afterwards is outta my hands.”

The tackle-hug that was the response wasn’t expected, and forced the wind out of you as she latches onto you like a limpet. “Oooooh, thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”

“L-ungs!” you choke out- but fortunately she gets the gist and lets go, still giggling before she cavorts off to the back of her apartment, still thanking you. Grand.

Mono just looks at you oddly, but it’s Nura who speaks up. “Do you really think you’ll be able to get her a position?”

You shrug. “Not up to me, really. Like I said. I’ll bring her up, see if they have room for a bit part, but that’s really all I CAN do.” You can’t help but glance towards the hall; the girl’d darted into the bedroom for...whatever reason. “Any idea what she’s doing in there?”

“Not a clue,” Nura admits, as Mono shakes her head.

General Pastebin: http://pastebin.com/u/MGFHQHandler
MGFH Spreadsheet: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1H43OFoxE9QyMgIqBg_YdPO7IPn7_ES6iST7Xnv9Ou7Q/edit#gid=0

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“Well, after a quick question,” you decide. She doesn’t complain, so might as well. “So, what exactly does this test consist of? How long will it take?”

She looks aside momentarily. “It iz a method of testing via a variety of ovah-sensitive materials. I prezume she ‘as some level of magical capability, yes? If she is adept wit one or more, I will recognize such. Az I said, it is ‘armless, but quite conzentration heavy.” ...Abstract, but...alright. “It takes az long az it takes to find out. It could be minutes. It could be ‘ours.” Not a fan of that, but...well.

Looking at Tami, she seems...well, concerned would probably be the best descriptor. She wasn’t edging away or anything, but she was clearly keeping an eye on her. Good. “You alright with that?” If she said no, then all of this would be meaningless.

...but no, she nods. No vocal agreement, but maybe she doesn’t trust herself to speak. “Alright, then. Good luck, you two.” Hopefully, the fact that Suzette already has a student of sorts means that she knows what she’s doing here...
With that underway, you need to get back to the others. Although when they quickly ask if Tami was going to be okay, you have to promise that she’ll be fine by way of distraction- namely, candy and dessert. Lorelei just watches all of it (although she does help with the cookies), laughing all the while. “You’re awful cute with those kids,” she mentions as she helps clean up some of the baking tools. They’re in the oven now, so it’s just a matter of waiting. The kids are busy watching some sort of animated adventure comedy movie- you’d completely forgotten you had it, something about a fairy that wanted to wander the world using a train. Whatever, it seemed to grab them. “Never thought when we first met you’d TOTALLY be a mom-type.”

“NOT a mother-type,” you fire back. “Just happen to like the kids, is all.”

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> Turn it around on her- what’s with Prima off on a job with without Jago? Trouble watching HER own ‘kids
> Turn it around on her- what’s with Prima off on a job with without Jago? Trouble watching HER own ‘kids
She's slowly, but surely getting there.
> Turn it around on her- what’s with Prima off on a job with without Jago? Trouble watching HER own ‘kids’?
New thread!


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> Agree and join the mission.
> Denounce him to the authorities, what he plans to do is highly illegal.
> Use the money to pay your debts and reject the mission. Continue your life as normal.
> Use the money to get a rocketship and become a real space trucker.
> Use the money to buy your family heirlooms and then destroy them. The less people know about this whole mess the better.
> Other options, write in.
> Denounce him to the authorities, what he plans to do is highly illegal.
> Use the money to get a rocketship and become a real space trucker.
>> Denounce him to the authorities, what he plans to do is highly illegal.
>> Use the money to buy your family heirlooms and then destroy them. The less people know about this whole mess the better.
> Agree and join the mission.

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The Great War rages, and in the bloody skies above the Atlesian continent, an Age of Heroes dawns...

>You are Stanislaw Krol, Ace pilot in service to Sturmwing Chimera of the Fliegermacht! Dubbed the Bloody Red Angel! Last time, we battled for our Life against the Black Lightning. Now, with time running out, Stanislaw has uncovered a devious plot...

For first few threads
For newer ones

>Nah, Bad Idea, you will spill it all to Ernst once you get back..
The trip back to Baldir was not exactly a fun time for you. All kinds of things were swirling upstairs. This whole thing was just...uh.

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>You can depend on us sir! Here to help!
>oops slipped off. See you on Friday my dudes. Stay excellent! May be a new thread!
>also, thnx for playing!
>You can depend on us sir! Here to help!
We'll be starting in a bit. Also do you guys think we should start a new thread or ride this one out? Generally my preference is to wait at least until about 7 or 8.

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"Samantha, I don't think this is working."

'Well, MAKE IT WORK, damnit! We've been married for 6 fucking years!'

"You haven't committed for shit. You spent MY paycheque money on booze and cigarettes! You've been leaving me to do everything while you waste your time with those cancer sticks!"

"We are DONE, Ernest."

She slams the door.

>You are Ernst Chamberlain. You are 27 years old, and you live in Sacramento. You work as an accountant at Golden 1 Credit Union... or at least you used to work there.

>Samantha Piccard, your ex-wife, took almost all of your possessions at home and left. Leaving you and your kids homeless, she cut contact with almost everyone.

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This shit is bugged out and I made a dumb typo, new thread here >>4894531

The strange sounds of the jungle meet your ears as your platoon marches onward. Alien birds call out, filling the air with a soothing song. The light raindrops patter against your helmet with little, constant “clinks”. There is another sound from your right that you can’t quite identify. A bit like the bark of a war dog, but with less shrillness and more of a bellow. Your curiosity does not outweigh your fear of whatever its source may be.

Bringing yourself back to your mission, to settle this new world, you wonder how far it is to the main camp. You have spent the better part of the sail across the sea here training and learning all the different ways Elves like to kill outsiders. Descriptions of hailstorms of arrows and weaponized giant leeches sucking the eyes out of men took up any time not devoted to work. Perhaps you should be grateful for the journey.

You’ve squandered every the chance to get to know your fellow soldiers on the ship. Granted there weren’t many, but still. Others have managed to at least get to know one or two people.

You look around at those next to you. To your right is a somewhat small but strong looking young man, with hair much longer than most, a large mustashe, and a serious, focused expression. He carries a crossbow and a dagger at his side, the latter being a somewhat unusual weapon for a soldier. To your left is a skinny middle aged man with short hair, panting and struggling to keep in formation. He carries a musket, though he appears in great danger if dropping it, and he has what appears to be a neckless with a single piece of carved wood hanging in the center. You can’t make out the details as he stumbles forward.

>Talk to the young, strong man. He seems like a useful ally.
>Talk to the middle aged, struggling man. He could use some help, and he seems like he had a story to tell.
>Talk to no one. You’re here to conquer, not make idle chatter.
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Hehe. Yeah sorry I haven’t been around. I’ve just been extremely busy. Our landlord is being as ass and our deadline to get everything out of the old house is fast approaching.

>You don’t have time to chat. You have important intel to deliver!

You make your way away from the group and to the lieutenant, map in hand. Without you to bind them together, they disperse, mourning the loss of their fallen companions. Not even to the camp and you’ve already lost so many. You reason most of you have never seen war until now.

You feel something touch your leg and immediately reach for your crossbow in a panic, but you’ve only hit your foot on a root. You try to calm yourself, putting your weapon away. If they’re anything like you, they can barely function after witnessing such carnage.

The lieutenant is kneeling by the wounded soldiers, and appears to be doing something to Kendric’s injured hand. As you step closer, you see that he’s sewing it up with a small metal needle and some black thread. His hands are steady, and he works with confidence, making it look easy. He finishes by biting the tread to break it and tying a knot at the end. He ties a small handkerchief around it and says “Go easy on that until we get to camp. An infected man is a poor soldier at best and a dead soldier at worst.” He puts the needle and thread into a little tin and moves on to inspect a soldier clutching his shoulder.

You clear your throat and try to be polite. “Sir,” you say, standing at attention. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m very busy at the moment, private. Is this urgent?” He answers, not even looking at you as he examines the wound. “I believe I’ve found something worth your attention when you have a moment, sir.” He sighs, and after determining that the man had dislocated his shoulder and taking a moment to pop it back into place with a painful CRACK, he stands up and looks at you.

“Now what new disaster will I have to deal with? I’m expecting the apocalypse, private. Please don’t disappoint me.” You unfurl the map, marveling at its strange and beautiful artwork. You hadn’t even noticed before that it doesn’t even seen to be made of parchment, but of a brownish crinkling substance. You wonder if it might be the nest of some insect species, but you quickly refocus on the task at hand.

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He yells “Line up!”, and the entire platoon gets into formation. You make sure to do so as well, though you’re a bit slow about it. “We’ve discovered new intelligence showing these savages have had our route staked out in advance. They didn’t just find us out here. They knew we were coming and they know where we’re going.” You realize for the first time that they must have specifically looked for a spot on the map where they could find a nest. That being why they didn’t attack earlier. They could have been watching you the whole time.

“As such,” the lieutenant continues, walking along the line of soldiers. “We are not taking the intended path. Rather, we are going to make camp in a shelter we very recently found two miles from here. It’s large, and defendable if need be. In the morning we can walk to camp.”

He stops in place and stares forward. “In addition, several of you will quickly go back the way we came to warn the others at the arrival base. They can’t be allowed to send another group behind us. It’s unlikely that you’ll be attacked as the Elves have no reason to think we’d go back. Now, is anyone here feeling like they have the stamina for that?”

>Volunteer to help go back and warn the others
>Stay with the group

>>Volunteer to help go back and warn the others
>Volunteer to help go back and warn the others
>Volunteer to help go back and warn the others
But before that I think we should ask Kendric about the symbols on the beads.

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Your head still pounds as you take another sip of the motor oil the office calls coffee, listening to the nauseating sounds of phone ringing, “MannCo incorporated how can I help you today?” usually followed by “Please hold.” Five minutes into the workday, and your ears already dearly miss the sound of your car’s radio. As the clock slowly ticks along, the orchestra of soullessness all pounding around you, you make sure to keep your eyes on the computer screen before you, watching that black line blink on the page, writing a few words of your report every few minutes. Like every morning of the past year that came before this, you become almost hypnotized by this cycle of sipping, staring, and typing, allowing the sound of human dignity being ground down by the office around you fade into the background, not even acknowledging its existence.

“Hey Tim.” A voice calls from behind you, suddenly pulling you out of the trance like a bucket of ice. You blink at your computer screen for a moment, before swiveling around on your chair to see one of your coworkers, a man whose name tag all too proudly displays the name “Richard Dickerson.” He leans over the wall of your cuble, sipping his own cup of sewage grade coffee, before asking “How’s it going?”

“Hey Dick.” You mumble. “Same as always. How’s your morning?”

“Not too bad.” Richard replies. “Honestly just glad to have those new XLODFGJBN reports out of the way.”

“Wait… what the hell is an XLO… whatever report?” You ask, trying to think back to any meetings you damn near slept through.

Richard suddenly breaks out into a chuckle. “Oh shit, you didn’t get it to ‘em?” He leans in further, shifting the plastic cubicle wall slightly, causing one of the pinned pictures to slip off. “Supervisors are gonna be pissed. Heard Mundy pissed on a guy recently. Watch your ass pal.”

Finally, richard pulls off the cubicle wall, waving goodbye as he chuckles himself sipping coffee, leaving you to shout at his retreating back, “What the hell is an XLO report!” There you are, left unsure about whether or not your coworker is screwing with you or not, but knowing your supervisors, all nine of them… you don’t want to take that chance. No, you need to figure a way out of this situation, real or not, you’re not about to face that bunch of mind-bogglingly dangerous morons.

You need a plan, but first you need to be awake so you can actually remember who the hell you are. A wave of panic washes over you as you chug the rest of your vile coffee, gagging for a second as you place it back down. The taste sticks to the roof of your mouth as you consider what skills might get you out of this situation. Your eyes dart towards the floor, where something you had pinned to the wall of the cubicle had fallen off.

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>”Johnson keep it steady!” They say .45 kills the soul, but robots don’t have souls, so hopefully it can kill other things. Try and shoot out the driver. (Will require a 3d6 roll.)
Think fast, chucklenuts!
>>”Johnson keep it steady!” They say .45 kills the soul, but robots don’t have souls, so hopefully it can kill other things. Try and shoot out the driver. (Will require a 3d6 roll.)
boom headshot
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>”Johnson keep it steady!” They say .45 kills the soul, but robots don’t have souls, so hopefully it can kill other things. Try and shoot out the driver. (Will require a 3d6 roll.)

“Johnson, keep it steady!” You shout, quickly checking your magazine. You got seven shots, that’s seven attempts at embedding some chinese built central processing unit into the dirty back seat of the camper van while Johnson’s steering wheel shakes along with his nerves and the mechanical driver struggles to keep the van straight despite what must be inhuman reactions and precision.

You poke your head back over the back seat, once again hit in the eye by a scope glint coming off the roof. It’s not worth trying to hit the sharpshooter dangling onto the Van’s roof, so instead you start taking aim with the pistol, only for you another shot to silently whizzing past your head and thump into the car’s radio, the initial BANG is suppressed, and the supersonic CRACK is nowhere to be heard. The gun is so silent you don’t even flinch as your head is nearly taken clean off, only realizing how close you really were to death a few seconds later, which was after you shouted, “Mann! Draw his fire,” braced your aim against the back seat, and fired one, two, three, four shots from your pistol at the greasetrap of a driver. While the third and fourth shot is inaudible due to the ringing in ears, you notice that the first two have distinctly different reports, and wonder what the hell you last loaded the magazine with.

Four players roll a 1d6. The top three rolls will be taken and added into a 3d6. Bonus points will be given out for anyone who can write in a sales pitch or advertisement for any sort of strange or wacky bullet that would aid in this situation. The more creative and charismatic, the better the bonus. If the total adds up to 15, the roll is a success.
Rolled 2 (1d6)

And here comes the pitch.

Are you a discerning assassin looking for a signature to sign off all your kills with? Do you find yourself hating other people with a passion that Satan himself would find 'too far'? Do you have no respect for the sanctity of life?
If you said yes to any of these questions, then I have just the thing for you. The great and powerful Merasmus is now selling, at a discount, his special Haunted Hellfire Rounds*! Each round contains one of the souls of the damned, and carries with it their promises of eternal torment. Even if it doesn't kill your target, they'll sure wish that it did!

*We are not responsible for any harm or damages caused by possessions, necromantic incursions, extradimensional portals, or divine judgement that may occur from the usage of our product. Please use the product responsibly and at your own discretion.

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"Welcome back Overseer."
"Let's get to work, Overseer!"

- At least double the minimum wage
- Free housing
- Free uniform
- Free beer
- Free toilet paper
- Free oxygen
- Free dental
- Free quotas
- The horse (free)

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Eh. I think he at least owns us a "sorry I don't really have the motivation to keep running" or "sorry real life stuff got me by the nuts. don't have the spare time", at least.
I've slacked off badly previously and now there's family business. I was planning to apologize properly with an update. Just go home, anon. Sorry.
Real life comes first, always. What happens on some Japanese Shamisen Enthusiast Message Board is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Still, a shooting off a quick message at the end of the day to let people know what is going on is appreciated by most instead of a long silence. Hope your situation improves in the near future.
You're good, QM. I'm the one who sent the email, and real life does come first. Let's hope things get better for you!
Hang in there and keep us posted.

Little news before we get started gents!

First, sorry about last week. I'd gotten my sleep schedule completely backwards and it bit us pretty badly. Entirely on me, fixed now though, at least for the time being.

I've got an interview for a little part time gig tomorrow. If I get it- and I might not, they said they were staffed up, but to come in for an interview anyway- it will affect the run, since their truck days are tues/thurs/sun in the evenings. We'll figure something out, maybe switch to a mon/wed run or even going to a one day run that's longer than we're doing now- starting at 15-16 EST and running till about midnight. We'll see what shakes out, though.

Discord here: https://discord.gg/eqq8fSNs that's the best place to catch me if you've got a question or a comment, I'm either on or I'll check it whenever I get back if I'm not.

Anyway, that's it for the news gents!


All of you headed to your offices after breakfast- even with different plans for the afternoon, you've all still got to file after action reports, and, despite Merlin's presence in quarters, the office computers are the only place you can access reports from other forces and anything else that's been dropped to your inbox.

There's not an awful lot there, though, as you power up the computer and go through the routine of using the card reader and logging in. There's an unofficial apology to the team from the Colonel being blamed for the PLAN ships escaping, as well as a post-flight technical assessment from Muninn, Tessa, and the chief. You note with a little concern that the engines are showing more wear than expected, even given their nature as old prototype models brought into service- the chief is estimating no more than a hundred flight hours before they'll have to be completely stripped and rebuilt, with Muninn agreeing, plus or minus maybe ten flight hours, less at war emergency power.

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Thanks for running!
Not sure what's going on here, but I see planes, witches and big gay energy therefore I am sold.

Ohhhh, shit. It's Strike Witches, isn't it.

Wonder what Mouse's opinion on this would be.


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You’re STANLEY PARBLE: a girl with a weird name and an even weirder tale: after a centuries-old lich woke up during your graveyard shift at the GOOD BOY DOGGIE BONE factory, your simple life of janitorial work became a bit more… Complicated.

Sure, you became pals with your now-sentient skeleton (you named him LY) AND gained some nifty super powers from eating MAGICAL BONE MARROW, but that doesn’t change the fact that your hometown of Clearwater, California is overrun by HOMICIDAL SKELETONS Even worse, the guy in charge is dead-set on taking over the rest of the world while he’s at it. Not cool!

Thanks in no small part to your ever-growing army of misfits, your mission to stop undead general and overall prick GENERAL HAWKES from introducing an EVERYTHING-BUT-BONE-DISSOLVING CHEMICAL into Clearwater’s (Clear)water supply was a complete success--more so in that during your climactic battle with the maniac in question, your ass was saved by two old friends: GUS, your neighbor and pizza deliverer extraordinaire, and the late ART who turned out to not be as late as you thought! Turns out he’s actually pretty ALIVE! Together you defeated yet another one of the lich’s lieutenants leaving only a few left AND gaining some cool BONE ARMOR in the process! Not bad considering it’s still early in the day!

Joined by your best pal and magical Goth podcaster SYBIL, the ever-aloof security guard MITZI, the CLEARWATER U film students EDDIE, TUCKER, and KIKI, AND the eccentric DENISE VENAAS and her creation: the twelve-foot janitor-turned murder skeleton TALBOT, you’re on your way back to THE LODGE: a massive bunker that just so happens to be owned by GOOD BOY DOGGIE BONES: your employer and homegrown somewhat malevolent corporation.

As per usual, though, something decided to get in your way--specifically a convoy of APCs led by a suped-up SWAT VAN similar to the one you’re currently riding in. It’s always something in the SKELETON APOCALYPSE, and something tells you this particular something isn’t gonna be good…

THIS is where your story continues…
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Nah this isn't rambling at all-- this is all useful information to any QMs, former, planning, or current, and I sure hope anyone else aspiring to improve their writing ends up seeing this.

Also none of us are professional writers here, but you should see the quality of the shit that makes the Amazon best-seller list. Pretty sure even the worst QM on the block could outwrite some of the dingus-authors on there.


Got that. Got probably an Iliad-length document of text on my laptop that documents all of the possibilities that could happen in my thread. And, as well as the goals being obvious to the readers, I have a very good mental idea of what will happen between the current point in my quest and the next part, up until the end.

>Read. Write. Listen.

Check. Pretty well-rounded in that department. 90% of my time is spent reading the aforementioned in your post (though I rarely play vidya/visual novels), and the other 10% is probably listening to conversations.

Although I'm also opposed to foul language, I have a dude that has quite a mouth on him. Pretty sure this was accidental at the time of creating said main-cast character, but I honestly found him funny as hell.

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Say what you will about the social stigma surrounding fanfiction, it's still a viable form of writing and is pretty good practice. The characters and setting are already defined, so it just leaves the writer with the responsibility of coming up with something faithful to the original story while also being engaging.

... Unless you're writing My Immortal or something--that kinda went off the rails.

As for language, I agree--some characters like to swear! I was referring more to narration and such--I find that sometimes writers use foul language in place of descriptive language.

Anywho, always glad to talk to another QM! Happy you're back and posting--felt like ages.
On a semi-related note, the next thread will go up a little later than expected--THURSDAY just became pretty darn busy for me. I'll try to shoot for a thread later in the day, but I might just push it off til FRIDAY for a clean start--will let you know via Twitter.

Thanks for your patience!
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Just finished reading the archives as well as taking the test. Guess you can tell who I got
Thanks for taking the time to read through, anon! Hope you enjoyed and I hope you stick around once Part 10 comes out!

Also congrats on the personality quiz--to be honest I didn't even know Talbot was a result!

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You are Blair d’Rusalka, student at the Garreg Mach Officer’s Academy and a member of the Black Eagles House. You were sent to the Academy by your Guardian, Count Rusalka, to undergo training and become a Knight in his service. In your first two months since coming to the Academy, you managed to win the Mock Battle for your house and participated in a bandit clearing mission, which resulted in you taking your first life. Things at the academy have certainly not been dull as you maneuver through the “colorful” personalities of some of your fellow students while attempting to hone your skills and become a full-fledged Pegasus Knight.

Now, you currently find yourself tasked with helping to put down a religious revolt, escorting one of your fellow students, Ashe, in his attempt to parley with the enemy general.

Blair d'Rusalka
Class: Level 5 Fighter (65/100)
HP: 28, STR: 11, MAG: 9, DEX: 5, SPD:11, LCK: 8, DEF: 8, RES: 4, CHRM: 9

Equipped: Iron Lance, Iron Sword, Vulnerary (x9), 500 gold

SKILLS: Fiery Blood (+4 Damage when HP is not at Max)

Lance: C-

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Thank you for running, QM! I'm a phoneposter so my IP did change quite a bit overall, I believe. Looking forward to the rest of the quest!
>and most of all, you lack presence.
Hm, I wonder if we went for an assassin route that could have been an advantage then, kinda like Kellam but of course not on the same scale.
Thanks for running. My ips been all over the place, during the course of this thread I've been in fifteen us states.
Leopold was an ass for sure but I'm glad to see him pick up some characterization! I'm down to spend some time learning from him, if other anons are. He may not be a flier but I think he'll teach Blair some Authority and to be less of an NPC for sure. Weapons skills, maybe as well, but maybe not.

Also Blair's examination of his face was cute.

Maybe if she had more Authority we would have had more control over the flow of the most recent battle, beyond Blair's own position and priorities? Not sure.
>and most of all, you lack presence

Blair will never escape being called plain. Self esteem is absolutely dumpstered, hopefully Ashe can fix that.

The First High King, Alaric, has been lost in the Dragon Scale Mountains. However his legacy will not be lost, especially with numerous children he had. The one wields the sword known as Fortage is Theoric, first son and now High King of humanity. Now he will need to consolidate his realm, somehow manage his numerous siblings in what will be the greatest political game for humanity to date. Add in that they are all family, well, things are going to get bad.

> Vote with Greentext, otherwise I will ignore it.
>Write in as acceptable as long as they follow the rule above. If its clever enough I might even add some of it to the result elected
>If you pick multiple options of what I already gave you, without being out of the box, it will harm the character since they are doing more than they are naturally capable of.
>Normally here I would say something like, ‘be kind’, but this is 4chan so I wont even bother making it a rule.
>Don’t be afraid to discuss things, just remember that there are some limitations thanks to both culture and technology. Hell, you guys could discuss whether it's better to make a Holy Roman Empire Electoral System or just go Partition.

>Here is the Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=High%20King

Alright, time to get started.
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can't wait
Nice, thanks for all QM
Well I am making the next thread, and I need someone to archive this one. Someone please do so, that would be great.

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30 years ago today, Sega released a video game that would change not only the world, but the internet... for better or worse. To celebrate that milestone, I'll be taking you pixel-brains through what is regarded by some as the best Sonic gamebook of all time.

Strap yourselves in, nerds.

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Cofmfiest any% Sonic thread I've ever seen (apart from that one guy)
And we got a speedrun record, finishing a lot sooner than the last time I ran this. Although tbf, I did get a 3-day ban for shitposting elsewhere on 4chan at the time. And don't sweat that one douche. Shit happens.
>speedrunning a Sonic game book
Rolled 16 + 6 (1d20 + 6)

you have autism i gib sonic a therapy session for his spikes

perk activated: Absolute cunt to talk to -5 to friendship +6 to base stats
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my character is a lynx
i am technically a pet
stats hidden due to espionage trait

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