Archived threads in /qst/ - Quests - 60. page

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Refuge was slowly healing but remnants of their recent plight still linger.

Junkyard and portions of Scatters still held packs of wild undead, ghouls leading the zombies as they hid and hunted. Without the controlling mind of the necromancer they lost much of their danger but still deadly to the surprised and unprepared. They began to hide, setting ambushes for the Legionnaires and locals that volunteered to help with the exterminations, zombies emerging from the shadows to attack in groups as the higher evolved ghouls stalk from the darkness to pick off stragglers.

On Scatters a squad of Legionnaires was just finishing clearing out a moderate town with one of the few fresh water wells on the continent with the assistance of the locals. They were herding or baiting the undead out into the open to bring them down under a hail of weaponsfire or under a barrage of blades and clubs. Despite their caution and the skills of the Legion there were some that were wounded by the undead and brought to the command point at the towns edge protected behind a temp palisade where a medical tent flapped gently in the breeze.

A ghoul had managed to take a bite out of the arm of a kesh local and they sat with a vorh Necrolyte medic who quickly cleans the wound and injects a serum to delay the Blight Hunger until they could reach a med-pod for a full cure. After bandaging the wound the vorh patted them on the shoulder and stood to move onto the next subject when they were confronted by a nervous looking human who glances around the tent. Minus a few scratches they seemed no worse for the wear despite their dirty clothing marking them as a local and the vorh approaches in concern.

"Are you injured?" she questions, keen eyes glancing over them as they wipe their hands clean.

The human silently shakes their head and reaches into a pocket of their coverall, making the Necrolyte tense and her hand dart to the grip of the necroflenser at her belt but the human pulled out a nondescript datastick and holds it out to her. They kept her hand on her gun while looking at the human suspiciously until he finally spoke, "Take it, this needs to get to your commander," he glances around suspiciously but the only ones paying him any mind were the vorh and a pair of Legionnaires who held their bone rifles tight, ready to intervene.

Cautiously the medic reaches out and plucks the datastick from them and the human lets out a small sigh of relief, "I was paid to make sure this gets to someone in the Legion, told to give this to one of you to get to your leaders," he hesitates the says in a hushed voice, "To Lord Jadyk specifically."

Glancing at the datastick then the human the vorh tilts her head, "Do you know who or why?"

They shake their head, "Don't know. One of the Confederates who brought the food."

Nodding the medic pats the human on the shoulder, "Thank you. I'll make sure it reaches them."

The human smiles nervously and nods before excusing themselves.

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Hello one and all and welcome back to the 3rd installment of Marvel Cape Quest! Sorry about not running yesterday as promised, real life got in the way, but here I am ready to run once again!

Here are our previous threads, along with Super Symbiote Quest that I am running along side this quest!

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=True%20Believer

Be sure to follow me on twitter, @TrueBelieverQM

Pastebins will be up shortly, as I've not had much time for this quest!

First post will be in a moment!

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>>1645972
>The Militiaman looks at you. His hand drifts back towards his gun.
>>1646010
>The Ambassador drums his fingers on the disc, a smiles gently at you.
"You merchants actually have balls. I never would have thought it. I suppose this is in retaliation for the Omega action against your pre-fab extractor?"
>>1649726
>The Militiaman gestures to the door.
>>1653636
The Emitter hovers across the floor, and moves into the pile of crates. You here a soft beep as it vanishes from sight.
[{PLAYER TURN BEGINNING]
Please redo your previous turns, so they are in the new thread

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Mountain Mountin'

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Pokemon%20Island%20Adventure%20Quest
https://twitter.com/GobbleQM
Character info pastebin in progress: http://pastebin.com/iB0tb7rz
Dice odds for best of 3: http://pastebin.com/994WTT3g

General rules:

There is a 10 minute voting period after each post. Non-contradictory votes will be combined as best as possible.

Write-ins for all votes are always welcome and encouraged. They may not all make it into the post or be altered to fit in, but I'll do my best to at least try to address the spirit of the write-in.

Very important or contentious votes may be redone in a stricter voting system as circumstances warrant.

Combat mechanics involve three rolls of 1d100, taking the best, and using the base accuracy and crit ranges of the the PTU system, roughly, but the 'turn order' will be more like the anime, where sometimes you can do a few moves in a row or be hit by a combo of moves yourself, all depending on circumstances. Stronger moves tend to take more time and have more cooldown than weaker moves and also may leave you open to an interrupt, so beware of that timing. Speed is more important for closing ground, intercepting, and other things and doesn't necessarily mean going first.

Pokemon and trainers are unique, and may have certain specializations, skills, or other things that the video-game mechanics might not allow. Some examples: That kung fu Bellsprout in the anime, that crystal Onix, or a Roggenrolla that can fly. Herb's perception skills, pokemon knowledge, context clues in general, and other things will hopefully come into play to avoid completely unfair, unforeseeable bullshit, but expect more bullshit from more advanced trainers.

Call me out on a mistake and receive a suggestive picture, mostly likely a butt.

Pokemon:
Gobble (Munchlax)
Mace (Roggenrola)
Belladonna (Roselia)
Dice (Croconaw)

Badges: 3

Location: Eelilee island

Recently: You had a heart to heart with dad, thought up some fashion for some pokemon, and had an encounter with an angry Dragonair

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Your name is Keiichi Hirayama. In your world, the barrier separating spirits from humanity broke half a century ago, allowing magic to spill back into human society. From the ashes of this drastic upheaval rose a new breed of human--the magus. A magus possesses superhuman capabilities, an affinity for the mysterious spirits and can perform the reality-altering gift of magic. You are one such magus and so is your twin sister Airi Hirayama. Both of you are high school students and attend the prestigious, magus-exclusive True Hearts Academy in Shibuya, Japan.

Unlike most of your kind, the two of you possess a bizarre tendecy to cause chaos wherever you go. Last year, through bullets, explosions and freak accidents, the two of you managed to help interrupt Japan's premier magus academy battle tournament—The Festival of Magic—thrice in a row.

The Ministry of Education was very much unamused by your antics. As punishment, they have forced you and Airi to perform mandatory community service. Ten special tasks relating to the organization of the Festival exist and they must all be completed before the tournament commencement date. The alternative is the death of your future careers. The whole situation is very confusing and there are many complaints to be had, but ultimately you and your sister have little choice. The eyes of Shibuya and the Spirit World are upon you both, so buckle down and don't screw this up!

Previous Threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Academy%20Tournament%20Organization%20Quest
Ask fm: http://ask.fm/TwilightThorn441
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TwilightThorn
Character Details: https://pastebin.com/95JxRtGv

>4/10 Tasks have been completed.

[Objectives]
>Guard the research materials from Lady Sagisawa's School of Knowledge. (8 DAYS DOWN, 1 REMAIN)
>Participate in the True Hearts' school production (15% Complete).

“Hi there! I’m Micchan726 and I’m someone who likes to sing and dance to songs and post videos about it all online. Thanks for coming to my donation page! People have been pestering me to put one up for years, so I thought why not? None of it is mandatory, though. I’ll still be recording me singing awesome songs and putting them up on my channel! :)” –Michiko Tsukiwaki’s donation page, 2016. Currently at 55,000 yen a month (before tax).

“Hi. I’m _psio. I stream video games, talk about them and sometimes make videos about them. I also eat food. These are all things people enjoy. You might find them cool and funny and agree with them or something. Or not. Either way, if the prospect of handing me money for free appeals to you, go for it.” –Nina Takai’s donation page, 2016. Currently at 340143.75 yen a month (before tax).

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You sit naked, your legs crossed in front of you. The upper half of them are banded in black and white. The bands vary in thickness and frequency, reminding you of a bar code. You imagine that from a distance this makes you look like a man with literal springs in his legs.

You seem to be in good shape but are suspiciously hairless. You touch your face and note that it too has been clean-shaven.

Your "chair" is a floating metal platform. It is cool but not cold to the touch. In fact, just sitting in it has evinced a feeling of calm in you. An overiding sensation that you should sit right here and not move is keeping you rooted to the spot but it has not overridden your ability to think logically. You realize that this chair, a seemingly featureless sheet of brushed metal, is part of your captor's trap.

You also realize you have lost much of your memory. You do not know who your captors are or who you are but you develop a ferverent desire to know. Obsession over who you really are narcissistically consumes many of your thoughts as you wait for an uncertain period. You do not eat or sleep and this makes time even more difficult to track.

There are two sources of light in your small, cylindrical holding chamber. One sits at the apex of the ceiling and the other at a point in its equator where you must crane your neck to see it, a quick flickering red one. It blinks far too fast to be used as a measure of time.

To survive and remain sane, you must go within yourself.

What do you imagine is there?

>freedom
>tradition
>potential
>justice
>nothing, your mind goes numb
>fixate on the light instead

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Session start
Before we get started these are josh's stand stats

Will post the Combat and Dice system after this

Stand user [Josh Borkowsk]

Stand name [Ride the Lightning]
>power C
>speed A
>endurance A
>precision C
>development potential B
>range B

>it has the ability to conduct and manipulate electricity of almost any voltage and to shoot short bursts of said electricity however it cannot conduct through rubber

Out of all the places you could have possibly moved to, why on earth did it have to be the most boring. Almost nothing happens here, hell, even the names of the streets sound dull, Merle Hay road. No matter you are josh Borkowsk, age, 16, a polish immigrant who fled the brewing bar fight known as Europe, because we needed wwii, german boogaloo. Moved to des monies Iowa for the reasons previously mentioned.

After 3 hours, an ambulance, several reporters and a laughing Andrew later, You finally get to talk to Andrew and tell him everything

"So the cop attacked cooper, but why?"

"Don't look at me, all I did was find the evidence for it."

You just remembered about the other cop that was with john

"Wait where is the other cop"

You scan the entire room. Nowhere to be found. Bowler hat guy walks right up to Andrew

"so that's why you keep him as a body guard?"

"Yes, have you talked to police yet? did they find anything unusual?"

"Nothing much, however almost all of our aztec stone mask's have been stolen!"

wait what


"but why would they want those?"

"I don't know but they are rather useless and cheap, they only sell for 20$ everywhere. Well whatever the case is, the ambulance crew said both men are fine and they will be tended to and should be in stable condition by tomorrow. However they are already saying that whoever the fellow you just clobbered will be suffering from PTSD from this event"

Andrew though confused chimes in as well

"Whatever the reason this cannot be tolerated and must be dealt with soon. Such artifacts can not go missing, wether expensive or cheap"

"agreed"

Andrew tells him that you and himself will be calling it a night and heading home. As you walk out into the parking lot he ask's

"want me to take you home, zeus?"

"That would be nice since its fucking 9:00pm and my folks will most likely be worried sick"

This is day is the strangest you have endured in your entire life. and something tells you that it will only get stranger.


On the car ride back you decide to strike up a conversation about

>Andrew's past
>Your past
>The specifics of Hamon and its various techniques
>other (write in)

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Heading into the elevator, you take a deep breath and beging keying in the combination; the very same combination that at least four minutes every single day was assigned to dreading a situation when you'd enter it.

Not that you're delaying or anything, 6 8 1 5 7 1 2 4 4 8 9 9 8 1 2 9 0 4 0.

The elevator closes and locks. The back wall emits a laser, the red light roving over your body before lingering on your eye. Next comes the roof making sure there are no airborne or chemical toxins, a makeshift decontamination chamber.

After all that, finally you feel yourself climbing and climbing. What felt like fifteen minutes was actually closer to two, but you emerge into an office straight out of a noir.

You step out quickly, already launching into your report; "Director I -"

The chair sits under a fan still spinning, an ashtray glows with the almost extinguished flames of a squashed cigarette. An untouched glass of whiskey sits to the side of her desk and a laptop is pushed aside as if awaiting a visitor to speak.

But in the chair itself is The Director. Behind her a window overlooking the countryside, now decorated by a scarlet scatter painting that catches and drinks in the light in a brilliantly macabre backdrop.

Someone blew her head off with a shotgun and now this office is just a dusty old relic of a coffin. It fits honestly. But one thing is certain, the saboteurs are far more powerful than you expected. To get to her? The only person except her who could stand in this room is you...

The magical or psychic traitor could have taken this info from your mind, but holy fuck are you guys screwed.

> Panic

> Leave

> Look around (1d100)

> Contact Someone

> Write-In

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The last thing you remember is being in the car with your family and talking. You thought the conversation was going well when you heard your mom scream something as a car pulled out of a parking space and started driving in your guys' direction in a quick manner. The car promptly slammed into you guys moments later. The paramedics pulled you out of the wreckage and attempted to save your life to no avail. You succumbed to death within the ambulance. Your family, however, were safe, strangely enough.
It is now roughly five minutes after you have transpired. After some intense blackness, you awaken in your bed. Weird. How did you get here? There's no way in Hell you should be here right now. After a moment, you stretch what would be your limbs and look around. Your bedroom looks normal as it's ever been. Nothing is out of the ordinary.
>Continue Examining Room
>Examine Self
>Leave Room

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The sound of a bell shakes you out of your reverie as the Professor closes out class, You already know most of the subject matter as you have taken this class before.
After all, this is your second year as a Freshman at Farport Technical College in Farport Ohio. After some... things, you found yourself having to re-enroll for a
second freshman year.

As you yawn and sleepilly gather your things, you feel a sudden slap on the back.

"Sup sleep tard, learning through osmosis again?" You look back and see your friend smirking an ever present smirk "That's not even what that... never mind." you sigh

This is your best friend since childhood, Brandon Schmidt, at 5'6, his curly greasy black hair and... charming, personality, more than make up for what he lacks in height.

he snickers, "Yeah well, it's your stupid fault you're going through this class again anyways, I told you trying to take on 8 guys with weapons, alone and barehanded was dumb"

"Yeah well, you came too so what does that make you?"

"Hey, 2 on 8 should have been a completely fair fight, just... you know... bats, and shit, they hurt"

You roll your eyes "Yeah yeah"

You've always been a bit... rash, some would call it. Others just call it dumb, Last year, about 70% through the year there was a incident with some kids at the orphanage you grew up in.
a group of highschoolers selling drugs, getting them hooked and threatening them for cash. They were just 2 bit criminals, didn't even have guns, they did, however, have bats, which hurt a lot. You decided to go tell them off yourself, Brandon told you were an idiot and promptly joined you. You got your asses kicked pretty bad, bad enough that both of you were in the hospital for several months, this hospital time unfortunately, caused you to miss just enough school to fuck up your grades, and without time to take make up classes due to a multitude of part time jobs to try to pay your hospital bills, both you and Brandon ended up having to start over as freshies again.

"So what you up to tonight Spirit? I was thinking maybe we could go out maybe catch a party or something, I know you don't have any work, so don't try to weasel out of this" he kinda prods you, egging you to answer

"Man, I dunno, you know how I get at parties... besides, I promised to hang out with Cassie tonight... "

Cassie, or Cassandra as her father likes to refer to her, is your girlfriend of 5 years now. you met her your freshmen year of highschool,

"Aw come on, if I've told you once I told you a million times, you should just ditch her, she's gonna break your heart, i can just tell." he frowns a little, you swear he only seems to do that when Cassie is brought up.

"Bah" you wave him off "If it hasn't happened yet, it's not going to happen man."

"Yeah, whatever, just come on, we haven't hung out in ages dude!"

you sigh...

>Give in to peer pressure and Hang with Brandon
>Keep your Promise and See Cassie
>other

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You fly towards The Citadel with the storm of an age at your back, the coming fury has been growing with every foot you've flown. Yet you've kept it in check, you are no longer in Cape Verde and losing control over a slight thunderstorm, you are no longer the boy who struggled to prevent his rainclouds from burning down an Arkansas barn with lightning.

Instead you're the man marching towrds his death at the hands of whatever Regime "hero" is sent out to meet you. Which, is weighing pretty heavily on you.

Not that you expected anything positive to come out of this suicide mission; but you can't help but feel you haven't really been much of a distraction...

Time to change that.

> "Knock" on the gates

> Use air powers to boost your voice and challenge the regime

> Lay siege with lightning

> Land and Walk right up

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>16

Katta comes inside like a ghost, gliding through the air as if he weighed nothing. You're forced to move your stance at the unexpected speed of his approach and use your muscle to push off his first slice at your shoulder.

Pulling back you blade you attempt to counter and put your pupil on the backfoot. Instead you recieve a cut to your hand as Katta moves his grip and recovers faster than you.

You bare your teeth and barge forward, hoping for a stagger. Your opponent's slight frame gives you an advantage in brute force and the seperation you crate allows you to throw a series of attacks at the black haired swordsman.

His skill is tremendous, no matter how you mix up your attacks or push your speed and strength - his blade is always there. Singing out no matter how you pound on it. You get the sense Katta is drawing back and taking your measure, so you don't know how long until he decides to take control of this bout again.

> FIN Lvl 6 End this bout Now

> STR Lvl 4 PUNCH IN THE FACE

> SPD Lvl 6 Do the Swishy thing, he won't be able to keep up

> Write-In

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You are Kusajishi Riku, Captain of the shinigami Ninth Division.

It's been one hundred years since Aizen Sōsuke's experiments into hollowfication reached their climax, where four Captains and four Lieutenants were exposed to a specially-engineered pathogen that caused their bodies to undergo rapid hollowfication. The means by which Aizen accomplished this are still something of a mystery, as the eight officers so afflicted were purged by the Central 46 the very next morning without allowing anyone to study their condition, leaving Aizen to escape justice.

Or so he must have thought at the time.

A fifth Lieutenant strayed into the forest where the tests were being conducted after carrying out a secret reconnaissance mission in Hueco Mundo, the world of the hollows, for a possible cause to the events under investigation. That Lieutenant was subsequently infected, infecting her Captain in turn when she tried to report on the incident: but unlike the previous cases, these two shinigami managed to hold out against each others' respective rampages long enough to regain control through their own idiosyncratic means.

That Lieutenant, whose actions that night went unnoticed both by Aizen and the Central 46, was you. That Captain, who you accidentally infected and with whom you have worked closely after your own promotion to fill the spaces left by Aizen's other victims, was Shihōin Yoruichi.

It seems that others are taking a renewed interest in those events, and their long-reaching consequences. Recently your own zanpakuto, along with that of fellow hollowfication victim Lisa Yadōmaru, were nearly stolen during a meeting with the Central 46. All three blades are similar in that they were exposed to and their wielders altered by the same hollowfying influence, making them rare and unusual iterations of the most ubiquitous tool of the shinigami. To anyone seeking a greater understanding of zanpakuto and other spiritual weapons, especially those trying to manufacture such weapons of their own, coming into possession of Tenkotsuki, Kobara no Tachi, and Hagurotonbo all in one fell swoop would be the information coup of the century.

Unfortunately for them, the attempt at theft only made things worse: they have likely violated the laws of the Seireitei already, but this makes rooting them out and bringing them to justice that much more personal. If there's one thing that can piss you off it's someone trying to mess with your beloved swords.
>1/2

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War, war never changes.

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Fallout%2C+Civ%2C+Courier%2C+New+Vegas%2C+Enclave%2C+America

Last Thread
>>1644031

You are the Courier, Executor of the Pheonix Commonwealth of America. Having established recognition of your nation you find yourself, inevitably, squeezed between a war of the Bear and the Bull.

The scientific foundries of BigMT churn out wonders and miracles, in a bid to make yourself strong enough to withstand the rising tides of the other Empires around you.

In such a setting, you dance carefully with the NCR in a peaceful, if tense, non-aggression and even have agree'd to trade deals and mercenary work, for a fair fee.