We are going to play as humans.

Select a few other details and lets go.

Im serious about this

Pepe the frog

A world where might makes right. A world of Jade and Gold, of Phoenix and Dragons, of Pills and Talismans, of Martial and Spiritual arts.
A world where diligent training yield strength, meaning freedom. A world where loneliness means death, meaning social chains.
A world still unfair, as the ones reaching the heavens are most likely born rich - be it political riches of the aristocrats, power of secret knowledges and hidden realms of clans, or lucky enough to be born one-in-a-thousand genius.

This was not the case of Quiet Word - that is, (You).
Your current skill level - half a step above other genius of your age? Lucky encounters leveraged to the best and a knack for navigating social situations.
You own a trove of technic for such a young cultivator - more than you can study efficiently, but your strength lies in the impressive amount of Bonded Spiritual Beasts - A Phoenix spirit, a Horse spirit, a Snake spirit and a Wolf spirit.
Speaking of that last one, you didn't told a world about him to anybody. As a scion of the Primordial Wolf spirit, its father warned you of its worth and how people could want to rip it away from you. Especially in such a ruthless and public environment than, say, a nationwide cultivator tournament.
Previously mentionned worth comes from its ability to Fuse without restriction - fusion being a secret of the higher ranking of your sect, secret you have almost completely rediscovered on your own. Alright, the Primordial Wolf might have helped you on that point.

Recently, you and your Stable Lotus Harbor friend partook in a capital city tournament organized by the Empress.
This required ample amount of training : all of you broke through 2nd stage before 8, the mark of genius-talent. You had to took strategical decision, and are pretty confident you could hardly have done better. Your fights seems to entrance a bored-to-death audience, giving you the new moniker of "Heartpiercer" - and a theme song https://suno.com/song/18f62c64-7ac6-402f-b6f2-30158f9a51dd
You were even granted the privilege of bowing at the feets of the 15-year-old 4th-stage young Empress - which you gifted a mystical karmic thread.
Now, you're checking on one frenemy and two of the foe that share a trait : all were deeply wounded and you bear some responsibility in the matter.

The Caretaker Quest - Part 4

This is part 4 of the "side quest" for "Disappearing Hogwarts".
An unofficial alternate timeline based on HeadQM´s highly praised quest, Disappearing Hogwarts.
Reading the original story is not exactly necessary but heavily encouraged.
Created mostly as a place to wait while HeadQM was away for a while but slowly evolved into his own thing.

Quick recap so far:
Recently graduated Ravenclaw student is hired at Hogwarts as the new Caretaker.
Something dangerous and mysterious is happening.
Harry Potter is the new Headmaster of Hogwarts and extremely stressed.
Somehow, you can see ancient magic.
Peeves ripped out your foot.
Merlin himself is stuck in your head and slowly recovering his memories.
Potter’s daughter also had a powerful wizard inside her head.
Tactically used your enormous penis to somehow turn said wizard into a metaphorical vegetable by erasing his mind.
You have a sportsy German girlfriend.
And you are now in a coma and she is the new MC for a bit.
What will happen now? Let's find out!

Part 3 here >>6122821

You are Noel Tiberius di Hazaran, the warrior-queen of the mountain kingdom whose name you share by birth. And this is what you hope will be your last return to the land where you and the rest of those who share your blood and your training were created. ‘Enhanced’ with the blood of monstrous yōma at a young age, you and the other survivors of that process completed a brutal training regimen meant to turn you into the ultimate monster-hunters.

That is what you were told, and as the truth has come out that was not entirely false. Certainly you always knew that the Organization was suspect, but learning that they had your father overthrown and killed to ensure that you had nowhere else to turn was eye-opening. That was even before you started to learn even more about what they had been doing – creating the very monsters you were ostensibly meant to destroy, deliberately pushing its own warriors to the edge of emotional collapse, and eliminating potential troublemakers. They had wanted to create a warrior with powerful yōki and regenerative abilities, but who they could control to use against their enemies.

Now you’re on the verge of pushing them out of your homeland, apparently once and for all, with the surprise invasion of their last major facility on the island of Lavinia. Two of the moving parts for that invasion plan fell into place the way they were meant to, with a raiding party of your own kind slipping ashore to mark targets for two armed corvettes that sailed in behind you, also under cover of night.

The third prong, an infantry push into the hills overlooking your enemy’s last port in the region so that a number of modern mortar teams could hit targets that the corvettes might miss due to their firing angle. After helping to get that infantry advance back on track, you’ve arrived on a hilltop that has a view down onto the port – specifically, you can see several locations where your enemy has cover against the shelling from the waterfront, and has begun a counterattack.

“Well,” you muse aloud, “we can’t have that now can we?”

You turn to Cameron, the senior officer among this formation of soldiers. “You can see those positions from here, correct?”

Sometimes it’s hard for you to judge – since your vision, especially in the dark, is so much keener than a normal human’s is.

Cameron nods. “I see the flashes, yes. But I can’t judge the range.”

“I can do that for you,” you assure him. “I want each crew to focus their efforts on a single position. When they hit their target I want a callout, if they miss their target with their remaining rounds I want a callout for that too. Go ahead of me and let them all know, I’ll be following after.”
>1/2

The year is 2021, and Civil War rages across America. Across major cities, communists rise under the banner of the Proletariat Revolution. In the Northwest, a fascist warlord state has emerged to provide order and security. The East Coast is consumed by fighting between military remnants, warlords, and U.N. Peacekeepers. Texas has formed its own republic, and the West Coast has turned into a Chinese puppet managed by corporate fiefdoms. The world's going up in flames, and nobody knows what tomorrow will bring...

You are the Messenger (former name: Walter White) and you lead the Sun Belt Crusaders. Your group is best described as a radical Catholic cult claiming the papal throne backed by meth, violence, and cunning. Having fled your native Southern California, you have established a presence in the Arizonan village of Mobile southwest of Phoenix.

Your faction has had some success since settling down. You've secured a patron in the nearby town of Maricopa, which provides significant support in exchange for your services. You also enjoy a close relation to Maricopa's autonomous Reservation after helping a local figure execute a coup and establish a new government. Militarily, your faction has won a number of small skirmishes, has taken over (at Maricopa's behest) a mountain base previously used for raids, done mercenary work in Phoenix, and has violently seized a small town in battle.

The Crusaders are currently in a period of growth. Threats such as the prison-warden turned raider seem to have set their sights elsewhere, and the cult is building up its numbers and infrastructure. It's a precarious situation, as each boon has its respective cost, be it expanding infrastructure with funds from a pyrrhic victory (a reminder of your faction's current insignificance to Phoenix) or population growth that's stretching housing and other resources thin. Even the recent victory over and unexpected military seizure of Sacaton threatens to rouse the POZ's overwhelming might if the aftermath is not handled carefully...

Beyond your small territory of Mobile lie the many dangers of the Badlands. These range from yet more convicts turned raiders, the Cartel, hostile government agents (perhaps even in your own faction), and a myriad other groups you're slowly discovering. Looming over all is the former capitol of Phoenix, consumed with a massive war raging between the revolutionary Phoenix Occupied Zone and a loose coalition opposing it. If either faction takes control of the city, it will become the regional hegemon and likely seize the Badlands. All the while an outside faction such as Chinese-controlled California or Mexican warlords could start making moves in the area any time.

Your short-term goal is to continue surviving and expanding. Your longer term goal is to somehow secure Phoenix and the Badlands. Your ultimate goal is to bring the Glory of Christ to the entire country no matter the cost in blood, meth, or tears...

You sit across from the leader of the magical girls Bryta Durwitz. 24 years old. Eyes sparkle like snowflakes. You can't believe that this beautiful woman. A local celebrity basically wanted to be with someone like you. Just an average guy working as a janitor. She and her friends attend Snowfield University, a massive, towering facility with pearlesant gates where all the magical girls in the city attend. You're starstruck, finding it hard to even form words as she sits across from you outside at the cafe table. Come on, surely you can manage something. You weakly choke out,

"I-it was a surprise, when I saw you save that guy... F-from the monster, when... When we met. I can't believe, the real Winter Gleam is really sitting here with someone like me..."

She twirls her finger lightly conjuring a magical vanilla ice cream cone, floating it towards you. You awkwardly catch it giving it a clumsy lick. Its... Delicious... So rich and pure... Shes smiling cutely at you.

"Hehe, you look like you're enjoying it. I wanted... To find someone who didn't have any abilities. Its hard, to find people to connect with, that aren't at my school that don't already know me. I guess I figured, why not take a chance with someone new?"

Clearly the whole city knows of her at least somewhat. But at least that makes sense. Still, theres gotta be something you can say or do that won't fuck this up for you...

------------
A) Whats it like, being a magical girl? Is it fun? Do you have any favorite spots to go monster hunting with your friends?

B) Whats your home life like? Do you have any family? I bet you life in a big fancy schmancy place huh?

C) Must get lonely at the top, even with your friends huh? Having the whole city looking at you, thats gotta be a lot of pressure.

D) Write-In

Turn 14
The world of Pavilion falls under a pall. Mortal meddling strains the fabric of the world as wizards war with increasingly uncontrollable magics. To the west, a new land arises, ushering the Vizari into a harsh yet protected refuge from raiders and pillages. A presence stirs in the deep wounds they left behind, feeding on blood and souls, seeping through cracks in the firmament. The Northern nations seek glory in other lands, sending their armies outside of reality itself to fight wars in a strange new world. The Tyrns Without Summer march on all the while, food stores deplete, emergency measures turn to mitigation, and hunger yields to famine. Dark times indeed.

>We're currently full on players, though that can change with short notice. If you're interested, join our discord. The invite code is: F2Patcf.

GLOBAL DISASTER: The night sky darkens, the stars torn from their seats in the heavens and cast into the western seas. The earth itself quakes with indignation, stirring up great waves that batter the coast. The days that follow are unseasonably cool and dry. The sun is enfeebled by a dry fog that reddens and dapples its shining light. Crops fail, lakes freeze, animals starve to death for want of grazing ground.

Last time, you tied up the final ribbon to the Prison Break mission, reunited people, talked to friends and allies, and left on a high note to rest at home with your bestie by your side. From that, one thing led to another and you find yourself with your friend visiting your favorite neighbor to relax with. As you were helping them get to know each other, an interesting undisclosed topic was brought up that changed the shape of the conversation. One, you weren’t aware hadn’t been discussed yet!

You mentioned that Ajna will be a vibrant trumpeter!

“Crossbill, you know this amazing girl over here is going to become an idol?” You place your hands on Ajna’s shoulders. “She’s part of the agency I’m building and all!”

“<span class="mu-i">…!!!</span>” Ajna looks surprised to be thrown into the spotlight.

“That sounds swell!” Crossbill is more optimistic than you give her credit for. “Why the hell do you have an idol agency…?”

“Woah, Ajna is going to do <span class="mu-s">WHAT?!</span>” Craig is flabbergasted.

“Play the trumpet.” You pantomime it.

“Ooh! I can tell. I bet she’s good.” Crossbill points at the trumpet decoration on Ajna’s blanket.

“Focus on the idol stuff, kid. You’re not pulling my hair, right?” Craig continues being dumbfounded.

“You gotta be careful, he doesn’t have much left.” Crossbill jokes around. Yeah, Craig is balding just as badly as Jesse… “Let’s step back, is this a social media thing that might get serious in the near future or what?”

“Oh, right. Kids get carried away like that...” Craig doesn’t know why he took it so seriously. “Sorry for losing my head there. I overreacted a lil’ bit.” The man scratches the back of his head.

“Doesn’t mean they can’t get a gig to perform somewhere though.” Crossbill is a shit stirrer.

Ajna doesn’t know how to react. As far as you know, her mother didn’t appreciate any of the hobbies she partook in. Maybe she needs some confidence to tell Craig herself, you know the guy, he’s going to be supportive. Or you should protect your talent and explain everything yourself, no need to stress her more than needed.

Either way, the decision is in your hands… Ajna is too busy increasing her vibrations…

<span class="mu-s">What do you do?</span>

>Encourage Ajna to explain it herself.
>Explain everything about the agency to quell Craig’s worries and Crossbill’s curiosity.
>Be vague about it, let Craig know that Ajna is part of a band, and once she feels comfortable sharing, she’s going to. For now, apologize to Ajna for bringing this up.
>Let the music do the talking! Hand the trumpet to Ajna! It’s the only explanation needed.
>Write In.