Now is the time of deepest gloom, when the night stretches out for hours like a dragon grasping upwards to the moon. The air crackles and snaps from sharp cold and frost, reminding the people of Karn that the cycle of the seasons must begin anew.
It is the time to journey to the edge of winter to chisel a fragment of sweet spring and bring it home...
Welcome to a casual one shot quest fantasy quest. I hope to churn out a post every 2 or 3 days.
It's time to go on a journey!
You...
>Defend and obey, wielding sharp blades of blessed bone and resilient cudgels of holy wood in defense of the young mistress... >Tend to the sacred flames that keep the dark at bay, singing the songs of blessing and spinning tales of wonders... >Pull the sledge forward; the yoke is light to someone gifted with strong legs and a strong back but how you long to see the end of your service... >Bleed for all, the old master decided send you out on the journey to shoulder all wounds if it's necessary.... >Minister to the needs of the young mistress and party, you also hold the key to the coins and other valuables for everyone... >Travel along with the group as a mere servant; you've always longed to see what lies outside the village...
Welcome boys and girls, to the third part of Rey's newly busy life. Your new home is quite the place indeed, not exactly welcoming now that you've started to rub your nose into people's business... I do apologize for not being able to post last month; my health wasn't doing so well.
You are Rey Vesperus, half-elven daughter to a Cleric of the Path and a lady ranger, apprentice to your mother's trade, and newly adoptive mother? Caretaker? To a strange slimy lifeform. You've recently survived an attack on your home by a wave of undead dogs and one peculiar humanoid entity without being able to learn anything substantial... So you've decided to elucidate the case of Olin Aurora, a ten-year-old boy who died in mysterious circumstances and the son of your first friend, Augustine Aurora.
You've learned something quite frightening from the city Bishop, and your search for answers led you into the Mamono village condition, where you've witnessed firsthand the appalling conditions over there; it's one bad day away from a pandemic.
You're Soijak. You wake up in the morning, expecting to see your wife fucking her bull Tyrone. However, both of them are mysteriously missing. You look out the window into your walkable city, expecting to see people walking and playing Jefre Cantu-Ledesma, but it's completely empty. All the other pods near where you live are empty as well, and it seems like a complete ghost town. What do (You) do?
Ever since I learned about ZombieBeatz2000 (The Queen of 4chan), I've had an obsession with her and, weirdly, her mental illness. For about 2 years, I've been searching for someone like her, but it seems almost impossible.
ANOTHER HOUR TICKS BY as your fingers glide across your phone's keyboard. Chatting with randoms from the internet seems to be the only thing preventing you from sticking your face into the frying oil out of boredom. You check the clock on your phone: 12 PM. You can't help but sigh. You still have 5 HOURS until the end of your shift, but you have yet to TAKE YOUR LUNCH BREAK.
You are TWENTY-ONE (21) YEARS OLD. You hold an ASSOCIATE'S DEGREE IN SOCIAL MEDIA MARKETING because a cute girl you liked during freshman orientation told you she was pursuing it. It is one of your biggest regrets. You are an EMPLOYEE at BIG M BURGER, off the corner of First and Market. You've enjoyed eating here as a kid for years, and now it's the only place in town that'll hire you with your degree. The food is subpar, but it's not the worst thing to eat for free during your lunch break.
You would really like to see your life improve sometime soon, but for now, texting takes the edge off of how shitty your existence is.
You are Neutralplier. You live in a very spacious house, which is entirety empty except for a pillow, a blanket, and your computer, which you use to blogpost about your daily life. Your day has been largely uneventful. When you woke up, you immediately opened your computer to post about how you just woke up, and also how you stuck a finger up your ass recently but it didn't really feel good, it just felt okay, and that was kind of disappointing. But you're not gay though, you were just trying it out. Also you wish you had a BBC dildo if that matters but you can't afford one. Anyway, a weird rock just crash landed through your roof, and now sits at your feet. It has a strange face carved into it that doesn't look like anyone you've ever seen. You don't feel particularly strongly about this. It's kind of cool, you guess. What do you do?
Rules are simple: Votes are tallied every hour, with whatever course of action being the most popular being the course of action taken. Write ins are encouraged and non-mutually exclusive votes will be combined if possible.
When a roll is called for, roll however many D100 are specified. 5- is a 'crit fail' and generally means something bad is about to happen. 95+ is a 'crit success' and generally means something good just happened. a 'crit success' trumps a crit fail. User input on both will be taken into consideration.
Once per thread, if three or more people invoke it, a single roll may be re-rolled.
You are Alex. A newly minted trainer and camping enthusiast just starting out on your journey at the age of seventeen after your father lost his job in order to help pay the bills. On the road, you met Fie, the Fire Gym Leader, Gareth a novice Aura Guardian on pilgrimage and Holly, a runaway heiress using a pseudonym. You've also made enemies of Team Green a group of violent, radical activists looking to abolish pokemon training.
Recently, Fie returned to her gym for the time being.
Last thread, an inopportune Nat 1 prompted you to return to your hometown in order to find Latias after some rich bastard tried to steal her, wrecked your house and injured Kay O-o in the process. After punching him into next week, you spent the night with Jacky's family and secured a seventh 'Companion' slot on your team so you could keep Latias with you at all times. You also agreed to do some survey work for Professor Conifer and were just discussing your reward...
All around the world, various individuals have been empowered by a mysterious influence known as the Incarnation system, granting supernatural abilities and strength designed to emulate the divine might of the classical pantheons. Even as humanity gained strength, another influence hellbent on devouring the universe, the <span class="mu-s">Uncrowned King</span> prepares to transgress into the confines of Earth’s reality using its foolish worshippers as a door.
The protagonist of this tale is the incarnation of Atë, a minor goddess in the grand scheme of Greek mythology, who causes and presides over folly and ruin, though her title and its implications are now mostly in name only as she sheds the training wheels of the system to finally, truly enter the realm of godhood. Now, in the final days of Earth as she has known it, Atë makes the finishing touches to her new source of strength while enjoying what may be the rest of her life as a human.
Here it is– the <span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-s">end of the line</span></span>.
You and Pheme float down the ice-cold waters of the lazy river, warm sun wrapping your skin in a comfortable heat as you splay out on a double-floatie lackadaisically training your eyes on a couple (seemingly) bickering in the frozen margarita line.
“Drinking problem?” You take a shot in the dark, “The chick has a glass but the guy doesn’t. Might be a refill?”
“Swimsuit’s pretty skimpy, and she’s flaunting it too,” Pheme shakes her head, miming the tiny strings barely covering her sunkissed skin with her fingers, “Maybe jealousy.”
“Maybe it’s the guy, actually,” you continue her train of thought, “Promised he wouldn’t be jealous, changed his mind when he saw hotter guys drooling over his girl?”
“Maaybe,” she lets her arm flop down onto your face, forcing you to dip your own hand in the river and splash her in retaliation. She recoils like a cat hit with a spray bottle, nearly tumbling out of her seat and into the water. You see her begin to retaliate, but she changes course, instantly whipping around and covering you with her body as she cranes her neck to meet the person behind her. “She’s not interested,” she hisses at presumably a guy who was presumably staring at you.
“I’m not here to flirt,” a familiarly obnoxious British voice chimes back, “Unless, of course, she’d be into that sort of thing.”
Of the sky, the wind running along your skin, whistling in your ear till you can't hear yourself think. Sometimes it's a storm with you at its center, watching it crush everything in its path, thunder rolling, lightning splitting the world. Or space, where there's no noise, nothing weighing you down. Just infinity punctuated by stars.
Your alarm drags you awake.
The same drab ceiling with paint chipping at the corner stares back at you like always. The room's humid again from sleeping with the windows shut. Your routine never changes: get up, eat whatever's in the fridge, shower, work construction for twelve hours, come home dead, repeat.
Your name is Arthur Carr. You live in a run-down apartment, work dead-end construction jobs. And tomorrow, your niece who you haven't seen in years is coming.
Your mother had four children; you being the youngest. None of you grew up well-adjusted. Your eldest sister Rosie married a cop who uses her for a punching bag. She convinces herself that getting abused is part and parcel of the "good life," whatever the hell that means.
Irene, second oldest, grew up hating everything about herself and her family—-an ambitious overachiever, always with a barb loaded behind her tongue. The first chance she got, she fled with some rich boyfriend. Last you knew, she’d gone to school and divorced her boyfriend turned husband, she defends pharmaceutical companies for enough money that she can afford to forget where she came from
April was only a few years older than you, but when you were a kid, you sometimes imagined she was your mother. She was kind and reliable in all the ways your real mother wasn't. She stayed the longest, because of you. You don't let yourself think about her anymore.
It's April's daughter who's coming to live with you. The social workers made it clear you weren't their first choice, so you can only imagine how bad things must be with Rosie and Irene. Though Irene probably refused outright—that's her style.
You're halfway through a cup of coffee when a knock at the door comes.
You open and the social worker stands in your doorway. Her raven hair reaching to her shoulders, she's wearing that same unreadable expression as in all your previous meetings.
Your niece stands at her side. You got the date wrong. <span class="mu-i">How dammit?</span> "Hello, Uncle Arthur."
The girl's voice barely makes it across the threshold. You've met her three times— once when she was born and two supervised visits where the social worker did most of the talking while you sat there just listening.
It takes you half a second too long to respond. Uncertainty worms into her eyes.
The worker shoots you a look that breaks you out of your stupor. You get down to her level, smile wide and do your best to give a good impression.
