Sup fa/tg/uys. OP from another thread, 404ed now I think, asking for advice on how to properly QM. Well, I decided to grow a pair and take the leap. I have been reborn as SUQM! Rules are as follows. Voting will be 5 minutes, and rolls will be best of 4. Critique is begged for, as this is my first time QMing. Wanna be the best I can be.
So it begins. After some time, you awake from your slumbering state and blink the dreariness away from your eyes. Darkness recedes and a form beings to take shape. Your shape. You remember vaguely certain things... there was conflict... or rather, there is conflict? You cannot remember. As of right now you are in a cell(?) of some sort. Its purpose mystery to your hazed and cloudy mind. Some things start to clear. Your name and race, which you suppose is a good thing, considering your state. As it is now, you must find out who you are and what you are doing here.
Your name is
And you are
>A Gem (Crystal or Homeworld)
The time is somewhere
>5000 years ago, Beginning of Crystal Gem Rebellion.
>3000 years ago, right in the thick of the Gem Civil War, either gem or human.
>Present Day Earth, gem on the money and everything.
>Sup fa/tg/uys. OP from another thread, 404ed now I think, asking for advice on how to properly QM. Well, I decided to grow a pair and take the leap. I have been reborn as SUQM! Rules are as follows. Voting will be 5 minutes, and rolls will be best of 4. Critique is begged for, as this is my first time QMing. Wanna be the best I can be.
Well atleast we ain't a dog. Human seems to be the greatest vote, but the name is still fucked. Gonna wait a tad longer for dogs to leave and get a name going, then write again. Might extend the vote time too.
Your name Johnathan, and you are stuck in a cell for Gods know what reason. Really, they probably do know the reason, it's just that they won't share it with you mere mortals. It's odd though, you never figured there'd be so many gods... in all shapes and sizes and colors, not like you Humans. You may come in different colors but there are a great many more of these pantheon.
From what you understand, one of the main gods has rebelled from the norms of the rest of the pantheon. Her and a number of seemingly lesser deities have banded together to stop the killing of you mortals. You are still stuck in a cell in one of their flying chariots, awaiting some unknown fate. After some time however, the chariot lands, and a tall purple warrior-esque female opens the bars of your cell, which retreat into the ceiling. She grabs you by the arm and leading you outside. You see many other humans being herded into what seems like a giant hallway. And are soon separated by gender and frame. Around you are other humans, from different tribes. People from the frozen north, the exotic east, even some red skinned humans!
What do you do?
>Try to speak to one of them, maybe they know something.
>Investigate the room, hope to find something!
>Wait it out and think of a plan.
"чepт вoзьми, ты cмoтpишь? Ктo ты? Гдe этo?"
The strangely dressed man from the north speaks to you in his native tongue, one you are quasi familiar with. He is a hulking man, with a full beard, not unlike many others here. He is adorned in a fur coat from what you assume is a bar. You can only slightly make out what he is saying however, and attempt to answer back to him in your own broken dialect.
>roll me a 1d20.
Try as you may, you can barely pick up the tongue lashing this man is giving you. He is simply speaking too fast and you have your mind on other things. No doubt he is panicked over the situation at hand, with goodness knows what fate awaits you and the men in this room.
Suddenly, there is great ringing in your ears, one that spreads to the rest of the room, making you and the collective crowd clutch their ears. It’s like the wailing of a Banshee, and lasts for a good several minutes before finally stopping. On the foremost wall there is now a screen. A window? No… this is a screen of sorts. It is showing you a great birds eye view of the frozen north the man you attempted to translate came from. It is beautiful, great trees and gently falling snow. Above it, a great saucer looms, ominously like an omen of death, and death it does deliver.
From one of the holes in its center, the saucer drops a spherical object. It is round and smooth and black, like some corrupt egg. It begins cracking, lighting and sparks sputtering from the points where it breaks. The men from the north are going wild, screaming in some form of protest, as if they know what is to come. In a horrible crescendo, the sphere cracks open completely, and a great flash temporarily blinds the crowd. When you can finally see, the land is gone. A crater in its place. The Northerners are in various states of mourning, pounding their hands upon the ground and wailing for their loss of their homeland.
The screen disappears, and a part of the wall opens, leading into a hallway. The men from the north are angry beyond belief, and one of them, a slightly lanky looking man roars a roar of sorrow and charges inside, which is quickly followed by a slicing sound and silence. There are no other places open, and whatever horrible fate has befallen the man before you looms over you and many others.
What do you do?
>No choice, walk inside the hallway.
>Try to inspire these people, rally them and then go inside.
>Have someone walk in front of you
>aw shit nigga.
These men... they are terrified. One need only look into their eyes to see that they are scared. Those that are familiar with each other huddle together for safety, as there is safety in numbers. They try their best to re-assure one another, you even spot some fathers re-assuring their sons. This is the Human experience. And it fills you with rage. Many things hit you at once. That explosion was no mere show of force. It was an extermination. They do not see themselves as gods as you do them, they probably see themselves as exterminators and you the pest. You and no mere pest!
“MEN!” You shout, grabbing the attention of the crowd, “Lend me your ears! Those of you that hear my voice, be steeled by this! We have all felled beasts stronger than this, our ancestors doing battle with the likes of Frost Giants and Dragons! We had neither their tough hide nor fiery breath, yet see who is still here! We are Men! Of the East, of the West, North and South! We all bleed the same and bleed as one! Men of our Human Race! These are NOT Gods! These are NOT Demons! They are beasts! I ask thee to lend me your strength, and DIVE into that Abyss! Avenge the souls of the fallen, protect your lands and family!! Claim! Your! GLORY!!”
You let loose a roar at the end of your speech, which is quickly accompanied by the roars of many others, the hundreds in this room. The crowd that surrounds you, surges forth into the hall, and you leading the charge in front of them.
>Motivational Speaker! Add a +3 Bonus to any verbal persuasion, speech, or other.
New rule: voting is now 10 minutes.
The footsteps behind you sound like a charging herd of horses upon a cobble stone road. Your charge further inspires the men behind you, and in the corner of your eye you see the corpse of the first man you ran inside. He’s been sliced in half, almost as if cut by an axe. That is when you hear the click, a trap one of the men behind you must have triggered. From the side of the wall comes a saw blade, the one that probably cut the poor bastard in half.
>roll me a 20
twas intentional. You see, I can roll a 1d20 on a 1d1000.
>just made it
Time seems to slow down, the blade rotating, deadly serrations ready to cut into yet another victim. Luckily, you react in time, leaping above and stretching your body so the saw passes just below your stomach, not turning you into mincemeat. Others copy your actions, but as more and more make it, more and more saws appear, above and below the first that was aiming for your middle.
A few more people make it, while others aren’t so lucky, their bodies disappearing into the floor when they die, chopped up and forgotten. You spare a small pound to your chest at their bravery. One has yet to pass, a child, who didn’t make the jump with his father out of fear. The saws are still whirring menacingly, wanting to dice the poor child. His father is beside you, on one knee, encouraging the child to take the leap and be brave.
A sound of sound sliding alongside stone is heard at the end of the hall, and a door that leads into another room is seen closing in from above. You must decide quickly!
What do you do?
>Further encourage the kid.
>Leave him and his father behind, you must see to the others.
>Jump back through and get him. (2d20)
Ten minutes for voting this time around.
ya'll mofos are slow.
You steel yourself, and order the rest of the men to go on without you, and quickly duck into the next room. You place your hand on the father and ask of him to do the same. Reluctantly, he does, and you ready yourself for some heroic acts.
>Roll me 2d20 peeps.
>17 to jump through, 15 to get back.
With deftness you toss yourself through the saws, like maws of life they threaten to end you like they have so many others. The jump earns a few concerned noises from the end of the hall, and cries of worry as the thick stone door closes behind you. The child is looking at you with wonder in his eyes, his fear of death by blade temporarily forgotten as you take him into your arms and hold him close.
You turn back once more, and with a powerful leap, avoid the deathly rotating steel, child in your arms. You roll once you land, quickly pumping your legs to reach the end of the hall before the door closes. The men who made it with you are yelling in various languages for you to “hurry, hurry!!”, quick as a rabbit with only a few inches before you are locked away, you slid the child and yourself beneath the deadly mechanism, and it closes behind you, almost crushing your head.
The child hurriedly gets back up, crying to his papa. His father picks up in his arms and hugs him as you stand once more, thanking you profusely in his native tongue. You simply nod your approval and turn to face the new room you arrived in.
Before you can do anything, you feel a hand upon your shoulder. It’s the man who you failed to understand from the main room. He seems solemn, and less panicked than before. He pounds his chest, and yours, and with a stron(k)g look of determination, he boldly declares in his broken speech, “You. Great Man. We, Yevseyev, follow you! Haroo!” A loud Haroo accompanies his, by the few dozen other fur clad, strong bearded men, “Und ve, Liebhard!” Another round of Haroos, this time from and yet more before the entire crowd of around 50-60 men do the same. You pound your chest in return of their cheers, and begin examining the room.
It looks akin to a ballroom, with tiles laid about. There is a door at the end of the room, above the floor so that one would have to climb atop each other to reach it. The tiles light up all red, with a few going green. Each light turning green is accompanied by a positive “ding” noise, leading in a pattern. The lights all die, leaving the regular tiles in their wake.
What do you do?
>try to discern pattern (d20)
>see what happens if you touch a red tile.
Try to gather some things you can throw and throw them at the green tiles, in the shortest route that would lead to the door. If that Doesn't fuck things up, jump on the green tiles over to the door.
Or shit, that works too I guess. Might as well post what I typed up though. Even if it probably doesn't make much sense.
That doesn't mean we're a retard. And we could've had contact with Gems before.
Never said retarded, just not used to light, colour and sound patterns.
But would they really understand simon says in 1000bc?
Also, since we aren't northern barbarians what culture should we be from?
Rolled 15 (1d20)
For what? Am I supposed to roll with my vote now?
Well we're Jonathan Joestar, so from the British Isles in some way shape or form. Does that make us a "Man of the West"? Islander?
Vote count peeps.
Simon Says, highest roll 18
Discern pattern wins it.
Nah man. the roll constitutes as your vote, cause you're rolling for the thing. Unless you state others like, "rolling for X". Should I do it some other way? Like I said in the OP, tear me a new one m8s, please.
>the roll constitutes as your vote, cause you're rolling for the thing
Yeah alright, that's fine. I'm just not too experienced with quest threads myself. I can roll in the same post in which I vote if you want me to.
Which I think may or may not have been Iberians. But, alternate history. Who the fuck knows how it works in the Steven Jewniverse Crewniverse.
You remember this. This is like a game. A damned game! You are not children! With your anger focused into solving the puzzle, you quickly remember the pattern set out by the green tiles. Forward, forward, left, right, jump diagonally, left, left, right, and then you’d reach the end. You know this, but do the others? You want to try something…
You take a piece of cloth from one of the legs of your pantaloons, and let it fall onto one of the tiles that were lit red as a torch. It falls through the floor, and you feel a heat emit from the tile, as if a great fire were lit beneath it. You fear the worst for both your pantaloons and anyone who were to not follow the pattern set before them. With what courage you can muster, you order the men to follow you once more, and you follow the path of the green tiles. You step from one to another, and hop where you saw to hop, someone making the mistake of not hopping when you did!!
>CATCH ‘EM CATCH ‘EM CATCH ‘EM
>the gem disruptor was a weapon that was developed post-rebellion that Jasper brought when she came to Earth
>the gem disruptor is vibrating yellow lightning energy
>Hamon is yellow lightning energy
Holy shit u guys ancient pre-Celtic possibly Iberian Jonathan Joestar fighting gems with Ripple power let's do this.
With speed you didn't know you had you react with great speed, so much so that you feel the wind rushing past you as you save the eastern man from falling. To anyone else, it looks as if you’d been cut cleanly from the torso up, your entire chest and shoulders now in the floor getting a sneak preview of the death trap below. It was as if Hell itself had been made real. The man is holding on to you for dear life, gibbering away for you to save him. Save him you do. You wrench him up from the pit of fire that has already claimed a piece of your pantaloons, you will not let it claim this man!
You heave with one last effort, and you and the skinny man are now on the singular tile, both of you breathing a sigh of relief. The both of you stand up, and he is bowing profusely with what little space is afforded on this death machine of a floor. You pat him assuredly, like a knowing parent, and continue on your way. With a few more steps, you land on the last tile and have reached the end of the room. Your step is accompanied by another affirmative *ding*. A flight of step suddenly appears from below, stopping to allow the next step, before they finally reach the door.
This isn’t over… not by a long shot… you feel it in your gut.
>Go up the stairs.
>Examine the room once more, maybe you missed something.
>Moves like Lightning! Add a +4 bonus to any reaction based actions.
Rolled 15 (1d20)
>Go up the stairs like the goddamn star-marked Messiah we are.
No time to linger, we need to press forward and get out of this hellhole. We need to topple these false gods!
I'll include a roll, just in case.
>>Go up the stairs.
We shall meet their next challenge with our head held high and our eyes wary for tricks.
We shall fight them with STYLE.
Garnet sees possibilities while Epitaph see absolutes so Epitaph has the advantage there, but Garnet outclasses stands in every other way so if she targets the Boss instead of worrying about whatever the hell she can't see that's attacking her she would win.
Not really. Stands are about fighting smartly, half of them doesn't give chance for the opponent to fight.
And while Garnet is the wisest of them, gems aren't really witty or smart.
Trips do it, with a +4. Loads of peeps failed rolls though. fuck man.
YOU KNEW IT!!
Again a trap is activated, and you're not even halfway up the stairs! Hammers of massive size swing from the ceiling, intent on crashing into their victims, crushing their bones and flinging them back into the fiery pit behind you. Six of them there are! SIX!! You are fortunate that you see and hear the clicking and swinging of the war hammers, but some are not so lucky. Of the 40-50 that you brought with you into the room, a good number are either crushed, or their bones broken on impact. They fly backwards from the stirs and into the trap that they had just escaped their death from, only to have it claim their lives a few seconds later!
Stone sliding on stone, again. You snap your neck in the direction of the door. Once more it is closing, threatening to leave you and your compatriots. There are 20 Men that had made it, but 10 more are still trapped below, their legs frozen from the pressure and the fear.
The door is closing, you need to save these people. But who would save you?
What do you do?
>Re-enact the moment with the child, go back for the men at the bottom of the stairs.
>Call them over before it’s too late.
>Gather the 20 you have left, before the door closes!
Actually thinking about it, King Crimson's ability would probably send her into seizures what with cutting out portions of time. I'd give the first fight between the two to the Boss.
After that I wonder if the boss would know to smash the gem and if Garnet would start fighting smarter when she regenerates or go berserk.
Garnet can throw cars like most people can throw pebbles. Also shapeshifting like Mr.Fantastic, able to generate electricity, precog, immune to extreme temperatures, doesn't need to breathe, and as mentioned unless you destroy one of her gems she'll just regenerate.
If you only destroy one gem you either have to deal with a midget with absolute precog and ice powers or a berserker midget with fire powers, each needing their gem destroyed in order to kill for good.
>best roll, unnatural 20.
You cannot let this happen. You’ve done it once before, you can do it again, “MEN!” You roar once again. Some of the ones that were shaking, their legs locked in place by the fear of not surviving another day, is temporarily checked. Their eyes and ears are on you on top of the steps, “You have survived thus far! That mere fact should shake from you any shred of fear! Will you let this meager thing stop you? After all that you and your ancestors have done, will you simply give up here, because some hammers wish to end you?!” Their legs stop shaking, and a good many of them take the risk, the fear of being left behind overshadowing the immediate threat of death.
A few however, take action too late. Two to be specific. Though they avoid the hammers that wish to splatter them or knock them back into the fiery pit behind them, the door is already too close to closing. You try to hold it up, but it is too strong. The door closes, locking in place. You violently bang your fist against it, screaming in protest, and the other two on the other side screaming in fear of the imminent death they’ll receive, before finally. Silence.
>two people die
Okay I know you're not done yet, but first of all, before anything else happens, MANLY TEARS.
Na, just solemnly place our hand on the door for two seconds then turn, jaw set and shoulders squared.
Tears are for friends and those you have fought alongside.
And rivals the likes of which you'll never see again.
Gah it has more smalltalk then it should have, and less exposition of the setting then it deserves.
Also after a time it feels like everyone is really dumb deep down. At least the MC seems to be smartening up in later episodes.
Your anger knows no bounds this day. Too many have died. Of the original sixty or so that were there with you, when you witnessed the frozen north set aflame, only twenty-eight remain. Twenty-eight, that if you do not find a way out of this infernal place soon… no.
You feel a hand placed on your shoulder once more. You turn, a single tear forming in your eye. It’s Yevseyev. And Liebhard. They are still here, still in once piece. You notice that Yevseyev’s arm is bleeding, a joint of bone sticking out from it. Despite the pain it is no doubt giving him he is still using it to re-assure you. He has a glint in his eye that tells you without any words that he understands. You wipe the tear from your eye. There’s still hope.
The room looks… down right insane. Everything looks ready to kill you, no longer hiding its sinister nature. It’s filled to the brim with what looks like spikes, that is you were to simply be near would cut you. Here, there is seemingly no exit.
What do you do?
>Examine the room, see what’s around.
>Have everyone explore, more people, more chance to find a way out.
Pretty good so far chief. Just ignore the hate and don't add to much JoJo to the quest. Much as I love JoJo it's just how posters tend to MC in quests.
Just make sure we are manly and fabulous.
So anons, when we meet Rose Quartz what will our stance be concerning her rebellion?
>to hell with her, kill all gems
>worship her like a goddess
For those not in the know she is immensely strong(strong as garnet), a skilled fighter, capable of healing magic, enhancing and mutating plants, controlling plants, has an arsenal of mega las cannons, maybe has a teleporting lion with a bag of holding in its mane, as well as atleast two other gems who far surpass humans and most gems in combat prowess (don't think Amethyst dun popped out of the earth yet.
She also loves everything forever and wants life to grow unbound by death an sorrow.
I'm not saying don't be a Joestar, just that most enemies shouldn't be as fabulous/manly as us, nor should they even understand what we're talking about most of the time.
Gems have been shown to be more about rawr smash with little thought to style than clever planning, which should be our saving grace.
As long as she keeps killing the invaders, and stays away, we kill the invaders and stay away
Maybe join forces for bigger hits.
She is the most humane, but like all the gems, not to be trusted overly.
Aight, we back.
"Yevseyev, Liebhard," you speak to your two trustee companions, of which are quick to listen, “have men search room,” you aid the translation with simple hand gestures, clearly indicating the searching of something. They nod in understanding, each going back to their relative peoples. Once again comes the speaking of languages that you failed to understand the first time, but soon enough they gather themselves and three others, in total 8.
You begin tracing around the room, spikes lurking above you menacingly, looking for any hint of a mechanism that might aid in your escape.
>roll me a 20, imma roll myself.
And I thought quest threads were already autistic. Sure, let's all pretend to be gay niggas from outer space. I'll flip between here and the quest thread for being a little girl.
Drawing from the previous room, you can now guess that this room might have something similar to it. A switch of a piece of the floor that is off from the rest. That being said, you notice one of the spikes isn’t so spiky. It’s more… rectangular. No sharp edges no deadly needle point, just a rectangle. In your attempt to find something, you lay hand on its top.
Suddenly, it recedes into the groove with a smooth hissing sound, before you feel the ground disappear beneath your feet, wait what? A look below reveals that the ground hasn’t disappeared, instead, you are levitating, as is everyone else in the room! Startled yelps are all that accompany the floating, with a small laugh from some of the younger men. Your center of gravity is jostled, but you quickly adjust. This moment here. It’s needed. From what you can see this is no death trap, no murderous device, you simply float, upwards. You breathe a sigh of relief as you ascend slowly to the spiked ceili-what?
Spiked ceiling?! Your eyes snap open at the sudden realization. With your ascension comes your impending demise. You’re already a few inches off the ground and steadily rising, as is everyone else! You look around, some higher than others, in varying degrees of speed!
You need to find something to fix this, quickly! There! That Idol in the center of the room! Maybe It’ll do something!
tragedy and comedy are two sides of the same coin
Once again with great speed you kick from the wall sailing toward the idol in the room, knocking a few people downward and buying them some time. After a few moments of sailing, you land on the idol, tightly gripping it. You hurriedly look for something, anything that can stop this, shuffling quickly from place to place. The idol. Its face is mocking you. Mocking your in-ability to do anything. Its face switches suddenly to that of a smile, and again to that of an angry witch. The force pulling you upward has greatly increased, and you hear screaming above you. Pained, agonized screaming. You can make out begging, pleading for it to stop.
You take the risk and look up. The first thing that greets you is the sight of Yevseyev, his body now impaled and bloody by the spikes that now call his skull, abdomen and torso home. His eye is on the tip of one of them, still moving. It’s scanning looking for you, and when it spots you, it stops. Through the impalement he smiles at you, “You. Great Man. We, Yevseyev, follow you”. Across from his still bleeding and living corpse is the child that you had saved not moments ago this day. He is in the embrace of his father that had thanked you profusely for that exact act of bravery, the one that inspired him to foolishly follow you.
Your grip is slipping. You look back to your hand, the stone dissolving in your grasp as you try desperately to cling onto it. The Idols head has turned again. To the face of her. HER.
Your grip fails you, and you launch upwards to join your comrades.
It is a good idea to clarify all rolls.
Make it hurt SUQM, make it hurt when we fail otherwise there is no risk for the reward.
“NOO!!” You jump awake from your bed, sheets tangling your arms and legs, wet and heavy with perspiration. You tumble out of bed struggling, wrestling and fighting to free yourself, which eventually you do. You jump up in fright, naked save for your under garments.
Your head darts around the room, darkness all that you see till you eventually settle your terrified breathing. You’re in your room. Safe. Familiar. Not a Gem cell, not one of their rooms, this one is yours. Thank god. Your shoulder itches from the remnant you received of those days, a permanent reminder of what you have to become.
You thought those nightmares stopped.
Gonna call it here folks, was fun running but it's getting kinda late on my end. Wanna catch some Zs. Lemme know what you guys think in the follow up and make sure to archive this
cause I don’t know how.
Catch you guys next thread.
Good start SUQM (not to be disrespectful but every time I type that I think suck 'em), looking forward to more. I'll archive this if the mis-archiver hasn't struck already.
Also >a permanent reminder of what you have to become
Oh jeez, what sort of gemtech monstrosity have we become?
No probs. Little forewarning though, you may want to archive your threads early because some buttflustered anon has been archiving quests with the stupidest shit for the past little while.
>put shard from shattered gem in ironman-like socket
>gain a modicum of their power
Would be awesome, if freaky if we had to interact with their shattered minds.
I had the idea for a while to do a SU quest, but resisted due to no experience running a quest or an idea that wouldn't divulge into some shitty slice of life with no direction. I'm glad someone did it and I like the direction you're going with it. Nice job! Hope to catch the next one!
They would probably need to be attached to our own mind, which could add more ptsd. I'm thinking that after the death maze we're more like Johnny at the end of Stealball Run than Jonathan after beating Dio.
>starts of a quiet whisper, speaking of rage, sorrow and pain that gives us slight shapeshifting, just enough to make our legs treetrunk sized or our fist large as a holiday ham
>eventually the collective shards are roaring "We smash for justice!" as we go full shoggoth with sunlight ripple energy on some Gem bruisers.
Well that definitely went places while I was gone. Good job, OP. The one thing I was worried about was that you might not be able to deliver a meaningful consequence for failure, but clearly you can do that.
One thing's for sure. When we meet Rose Quartz, SHOW HER THE STAR-SHAPED BIRTHMARK. It could mean a few things. Either the star is already the official Crystal Gem symbol and we're destined for great things, or they're going to adopt the star as their symbol in memory of our heroics.
Or, that gives me another idea. Maybe the "birthmark" is a star-shaped gem shard stuck in our flesh, since we're the original, and it only becomes like a birthmark on our descendants.
Which brings me to my next point, which is that if we're a JoJo or a JoJo expy, we can make this a generational saga. Humans might not be as long-lived as gems, but as sure as we make sure we have kids, it's cool.
Oh, and let's treat her with respect like an equal, one chief to another. She's a leader of her people, we're a leader of our people.