how do admins become admins?

Your name is <span class="mu-s">BrightReef Grover</span> and you are finally a <span class="mu-s">Science Scout</span>!

Among the youth of Swallia; public service is considered a great mark on a resume for a future career, and a great use of a young person's time. Before being mated or mature enough to engage in the workforce; it is a method to expend youthful energy towards something useful. But you wouldn't know much about that; you're more interested in the merit badges, the sash, and the cool stuff you get to do.

The Scouts are a direct subsidy of InterCon; the governing body of your independent planet. Swallia and its two moons are in an autonomous zone and are free from the predations and exploitations of other powers in space. This is guaranteed by your protector-in-all-but-name state; the Jaxtian led Hegemony. But once again, you don't really know much about that. You're just a kid, you're much more excited about summer vacation on the last day of school. You even get to meet the representative from the Eugenic & Science policy department of the Swall government. Cool!

Use your knowledge of Cartoons to steal the F-16.
What will you do after you've stolen it?

You are Marnie, an unwilling resident of City 87-O. After years of putting up with a stifling existence, you've finally managed to carve out a potential path to freedom. Thanks to the actions of you, your Digimon, and your allies, a way out of this digital ark is finally coming into sight.

After training hard, carrying out arduous missions, and defeating several powerful foes, your partner, Phascomon, has unlocked his Ultimate-stage Digivolution: Astamon. Only a few steps remain before you can ascend The Tower, enter the portal at its pinnacle, and make your way into the real world, where you can finally see the sights that have eluded you all your life.

Since your last excursion into the depths of a data center, you’ve been taking it easy at home, watching the news near-constantly while waiting for bots to bust down your door. Fortunately, no such thing seems to be incoming. The raid on the scanning facility has gone unreported, thanks to the lack of public-facing damage, and the city-sanctioned media has no reason to broadcast their own attempt to take you and your allies down.

==

Thread 1:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6216903/

Thread 2:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6254189

<span class="mu-i">3rd of Sun's Dusk, 4E 171.</span>

The sun rises over the Goldmoor, along the southern coast of Hammerfell. Here, the harsh desert that the region is known for gives way to green scrubland, thanks to the humid air of the ocean and the pleasant chill of winter. This is where the River Tark flows into Hew's Bay, and where the city of Taneth stands proud. Thousands call this port home and ply their trades within its walls and as one of its many guards, it is your job to ensure the safety of these people.

You work for the Imperial Guild of Bailiffs, as a sworn officer and enforcer of the Emperor's law. You have been keeping the streets of Taneth safe for over two years and just a month ago, your service was rewarded with a promotion. You are now a sergeant, the leader of your very own patrol, comprised of yourself and two other officers. It's not much, but the responsibility that you have been given is still a sign of trust, and an opportunity for you to prove yourself in the eyes of your superiors. With a little luck, you'll continue to climb the ranks and eventually claim a position of true authority.

It won't be easy. Hammerfell is a vicious and unforgiving place and its people, the Redguards, are not unlike the land that they call home. They are divided into many factions, though most of the region is split between two of them – the Forebears and the Crowns. The Crowns claim to be the descendants of the Na-Totambu, who ruled over the lost Redguard homeland. They remain true to the ways of their ancestors and shun Imperial doctrine. The same cannot be said for the Forebears, who have abandoned the old gods in favour of the Eight Divines of the Empire. This cultural divide has been the cause of great enmity between the two groups for centuries, an animosity that is unlikely to die down anytime soon.

Thanks to its proximity to the Imperial heartland of Cyrodiil, Taneth is considered a Forebear city and most of its population are proud to call themselves citizens of the Empire. However, not everyone that lives within the city's walls has abandoned the old ways. There are a rare few who stay true to the traditions of the Na-Totambu and bury their resentment deep within their hearts, so that they may live among the Forebears.

>previous thread:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6269754/


>First things first, I did actually come back after the funeral and I uh...I dunno. Did I lose the plot? I kept waiting and my autism locked me into that thread hoping someone would respond. So before I type out a huge post I wanna make sure, is anyone even interested in Alola Quest anymore?

Your name is Feral. You thought you and your bandmates were going to a crazy tour around the world but instead what happened is that you plane crashed midway. You woke up, and the only person you could find is Fred Cobst, your lead singer. Both of you are confused and scared. What do you do?

Welcome to <span class="mu-i">Knights of Nothing</span>. For those of you who were part of “The Testament of Tatamu” quest a few years ago, this takes place in the same post-apocalyptic universe, albeit closer to the beginning of the timeline. The setting errs closer towards hard(er) science fiction.

For those who don’t know me, I’m Kaz, and I’ve been a QM since the last few years back when quests were still on /tg/ before we made the jump. My last active quest was “Star Wars – Interregnum”. For those familiar with me, it’s been a long time. Sorry for disappearing without any warning. Long and short of it was a mixture of burnout, writer’s block, and IRL/day job getting in the way of things.

In any event, I’m back in a limited capacity. I’m back in trade school and doing irregular contract work, which leaves a creative-sized hole in my chest. So I’m writing once more, with the goal of trying to do 1-2 updates per day. For those waiting for <span class="mu-i">Interregnum</span>, it’s coming soon(TM). My block was really starting to show towards the end of the last thread, and I need to square the circular peg on either fixing it or wiping part of the slate clean.

The mechanics of this quest draw heavily from the Fantasy Flight Games <span class="mu-i">Genesys</span> narrative dice system, albeit modified and changed for questing format, which is the same system that <span class="mu-i">Interregnum</span> uses.

Now, without further ado…

==============

<span class="mu-i">The world stopped, then began anew.</span>

>>Location: Unknown
>>Date: Unknown

The burden of consciousness is abruptly forced upon you – sudden and without any warning.

Your first breath is a wet, choking sputter that catches in your throat. Something thick and viscous coats the inside of your esophagus, nearly strangling you from the inside. Each attempt at inhaling or expelling only makes it worse, every aborted retch an aborted reminder that your body has seemingly turned against you.

Panic surges before rational thought can catch up. Adrenaline sears away the last remnants of a dreamless sleep, burning away a mental fog clouding your mind until only the rawest survival instinct remains, and a painful hyper-awareness of your immediate surroundings.

And then you feel them – cold, conforming walls pressing against your body, smooth and pliant, firm and unyielding as they conform to your panicked thrashing. Your hands slap against a curved surface only mere inches away from your face. The realization shoots through you like ice in your veins.

You are enclosed.

Entombed.

Trapped.

(cont.)

Pls call me I am lonely and no friends. I dont mind any convo just be nice. +65 8907 3692

The gates of Felcross are behind you now. The city where you were raised, the city of your first failures and rare achievements, the last great city on the way east. You look back, as if to say goodbye. There is nothing of worth left for you there, only your bickering family and your more successful peers.

You are a wanderer now. On your belt is a sword, on your back - a bag with tools, travelling gear, some money - whatever was left after your purchases - and rations. They won't last long, but you'll think of solving this later. Two javelins fit nicely in the quiver, slung over your shoulder close to the travelling bag.

Barely a man, not a youth, you start down one of the roads. You don't know much of the world, but you've had dreams. Dreams of power, people bowing to your might, of... freedom, to do what you want, however indulgent your desires may be. Of immortality, like in the tales of the Flower Harbringer and the Collector of Names.

They are far away, but one who doesn't begin his journey will most certainly never see its end.

You possess basic ability in the way of the sword and the javelin, having been given basic training for the militia, like any able man of the kingdom. You also know your way around the streets, courtesy of your upbringing. You can repair and take care of your weapon, and know the basics of crafting, having helped around the smithy for a time. You think you can survive on the road and subsist if need came. That's about all you are capable of.

You heard the road east leads to the frontier, the outlands. Not completely devoid of settlement, it is, nevertheless, a dangerous place - some of the monsters manage to sneak into the heartlands of the kingdom of Hien, not to speak of these wild lands, where they may have greater reign. Their distance from the heartlands means all kind of folk flock there, sometimes good in heart, but often dark. It also means greater freedom, whatever the cost. At least, that's what the caravans and travellers from that land told you when they passed through Felcross.

"Only madmen go east," your grandpa once said spitefully. "Those that don't know the worth of a family at your back or a proper home you can return to." Didn't stop one of your elder brothers from going there. Didn't stop you.

The road is calm for a few days as you pass by caravans going west. You didn't have enough money to buy your place in one, so you're going alone.

After the sun sets on the 4th day of travel, you consider making camp, like the previous days, but see a light further down the road. Approaching closer, you see a person sit by the campfire, a man, if you read their build correctly. He doesn't seem to have noticed you, tinkering with something in his hands. A tent is pitched nearby, and a spear rests by the fire. The faint scent of herbs and medicine drifts in the air. The smoke, too, of course.
(1/2)