>It is January 24th of the Year 71 of the Cosmic Era

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<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-i">Frieden Moon, The Mind-Killer. Black-Band pilot of ZAFT.</span></span> Has found himself participating in a covert infiltration of the Atlantic Federation's G-Project using his background as a former EA pilot... Though unfortunately caught in the crossfire of ZAFT's operation to steal the Mobile Weapons in Heliopolis Colony. A deceived partner uncovers a secret of the Nation of ORB. <span class="mu-i">Which now lays on Frieden's own hands to pilot.</span>

Spring, 200X. Evening.
_______

There is a ringing behind your ears. Your senses are dulled, and are wrestling with an internal static preventing you from regaining your grip on reality. For a moment you are stunned into forgetting the where and the why of the drama: that is what happens when you get caught in an explosion. Before numbness invaded your system a mysterious force smashed into the walls of your school. A villain appeared. You could never have predicted a villain showing up in your town of Hauteville.

You and your class had little time to react. The entity collided with the building at lightning speed; demolishing one side of the school a flashy figure appeared. <span class="mu-s">A rogue magical girl.</span>

The floor offers stability for your hands and knees to rely on, currently the most reliable object for support. The fuzz in your head vanishes at a snail's pace as teenagers scream in the chaos.

"This is revenge! I'm sick of being looked down upon! You only have yourselves to blame!" the magical girl reasons. She looks familiar. There must be some sort of supernatural barrier from being recognized; but her looks and tone invoke a visceral response to your psyche. "Where is she!?"

Clarity of mind returns little by little while the magical girl sows destruction. You also feel a mysterious energy inside you as well. Is it the sensation of your life in peril? Or something more?

One of the first shards of clarity returns: your name is Gana. In this world, there are good magical girls and bad magical girls with monsters in between.

Your reputation in school is known for:

>A girl from a pretty rich family. Richer than the normal standard in Hauteville. Materialistic, arrogant, antagonistic against classmates who have less. You have bullied others for having cheap clothes or bad makeup.
>A girl leading a clique in your part of school. You have been political with your classmates; others that stand against you often find life hell afterwards. Intriguing, manipulative, antagonistic to rebellion.
>A girl frequently envious of others. You are a popular talk for boys; you exude a need for attention and hate it when someone prettier comes along. Contenders frequently run into bad rumors about themselves, in class and over the net. Vain, shallow, antagonistic to modesty.
>write-in
______

<span class="mu-s">Magical girl Encountered: Montesinos, the Indignant Magical Girl</span>

<span class="mu-r">This is the end of the world.</span> It's also the birth of a new one, or an old one, depending on who you ask. Maybe it's more like an overdue arranged marriage.

You might not have been fully aware, but the world used to cast a Shadow: a separate realm of spirits, kept away by a barrier that only a certain few were ever meant to cross. Spirits are capricious, rarely logical, and often dangerous beings composed of the essence and energy of all things real; scuttling reflections with their own arcane hierarchies and motivations.

But every wall has its rats, and the barrier between your world and the spirit world was no exception. The Beshilu are a nasty manner of demon - derived from and connected to the spirit world, but fettered to the world of flesh, and gifted with many terrible abilities. They massacre and they multiply, and their only desire has ever been to tear down that wall between worlds... to gnaw at its foundations in greater and greater numbers, until the wolves could no longer keep them at bay.

They succeeded.

Too many tears. Too many crumbling wounds between worlds. The gauntlet was sundered, and when that wall crumbled away, the world of mortals and the world of spirits were merged into one. In those first terrible moments, everyone on Earth could hear a trillion shrill voices screeching out in triumph, and swarms of rats swelled across streets and forests in writhing tides.

The fabric of reality is now like a sieve, the threads wavering apart and stretching in new directions; space and time operate differently. The sun no longer rises, or sets, and light instead seems to meander from one place to the next according to whim. Places seem to stir and shift, reacting to their occupants in sometimes unpredictable fashion. The rules have changed, and will likely change more, but things will never go back to the way they were.

That was three days ago, and it would be a stretch to say the dust has settled, but you are adjusting to the chaos. You're a survivor, and while you may not fully grasp what's going on, you're not unfamiliar with the supernatural. You are determined to knuckle down and make your way in this fucked up new world....

>Cont'd

In a dark place, a <span class="mu-b">made-man</span> struggles against his bonds. Before him, several tools glimmer and sway gently along the wall, the strange bald druggist who knocked him out playing with them. The room is barely illuminated from the streetlights, passing cars, and electric billboards of Level 4. True darkness and silence is not common here.

“...It's always women, prostitutes. Transient kids. People who won't be missed. That's no fun. I think doing it to men is much more fun; but not because you're a boy. More because it's not somebody you'd expect. It could be <span class="mu-i">anybody</span>.”

<span class="mu-b">”You want money? I got money. Pacelli connections.”</span>

“You will be next great creation. Worth far more then any amount of dirty criminal money.”

<span class="mu-b">“Who da fuck... wait, you're from Level 2?”</span>

The man doesn't say anything, instead the stranger brandishes a razor, testing its sharpness against a finger, turning to the mobster. He looks over his captive, eyes looking for the juciest piece to cut first. The mafioso tries to pull out from the rope, the chair squeaking. He sweats. Bribes will certainly not work.

<span class="mu-b">“You'd be smart to let me go, psycho. I'm a dangerous man, and I know dangerous people!”</span>

He grins at the mafioso with a golden tooth.

“Exactly. That's the fun part.”

Welcome back.

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.

Inventory, pokemon stats and other links: https://docs.google.com/document/d/15i2N08IpWqitoTJujsUMishe4PLbao1lqT-bCAmvPcE/edit

Discord: https://discord.gg/pR7q5Evf

For a short summary for the new and to recap:

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.

For the time being, Fie returned to her gym for the time being.

Last thread, you beat Daniel, the Greenshoot Gym Leader, evolved Coolie into a Hydrapple, trained a whole lot, prepared to head out in the morning, had some friendly battles with Sarah and Tom which you lost and groomed your team...

"We should keep moving and catch up to the NPC. My transformation only lasts a minute and we should make the most of it." You say motioning to the next cave entrance. Ryuji nods and tears his glaive free from the zombie just as Irene finishes her trance. The three of you regroup and begin to run through the cave system once more, all pretense of stealth lost. Not helping was the fact that Ryuji was constantly gushing and asking questions about your abilities.

"What else can you do? How long is the cooldown? What buffs do you get? Did the coat come with the costume?" He asks, eagerness overtaking any sense of restraint on his curiosity. "I don't know anyone who's ever gotten this far!" He concludes. You suppress a small sigh building up. You had expected him to explode with excitement given his love of the game but you hadn't really expected to see him get this excited. Still, you couldn't help but share a bit of his enthusiasm. How long had it been since you had eagerly spoken about the game with someone just as passionate instead of trying to avoid the conversation with non-answers? You pull back your helm, allowing it to fold back behind your head and somehow vanish causing Ryuji to let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a squeal and roar of excitement.

"It folds back..." He manages to eek out.

"It's on a 5 minute cooldown. So it's really more of a boss fight kind of ability though right now I don't think we have the luxury to hold back big CDs. While I'm in this form, these are considered two handed weapons." You say raising your fists. Ryuji's jaw drops.

"Waitwaitwait. You're dealing two hander damage with your fists alone? I've seen how fast you can swing those things and you're telling me they can hit as hard as a warhammer?" He asks.

"Yup. Only while transformed though. Untransformed I have the Brawler's [Powerful Fist] skill but it seems to scale better because I can't really wield anything else." You continue. "Also, I'm considered to be wearing light armored outside of my transformation and medium while transformed. Stacks with the bit of damage reduction my class gives. Class seems to give me a handful of abilities from other classes to pick from on level up but it seems to lean towards fighter and brawler skills." You pause for a moment. "But I get this feeling that there's more to it. Almost like the game is keeping note of what I do and adjusting for it. I got a weird quest regarding another player on the tutorial island and now I'm expected to grow under strife, whatever that means. For the moment it seems my class progression is locked until I meet some kind of requirement. Nothing about this class is straight forward and the power seems to compensate for it." You say, drawing your helmet back on. "If I'm honest...that's the fun part."

You are <span class="mu-s">Lorinda de Lindan</span>, Princess, Inquisitor, and soon-to-be Tournament Champion! Well, not really, for you see the Inquisition is sending you into the <span class="mu-s">Grand Tournament of Bloodgrave’s Fall</span> as an agent to see if any otherworldly <span class="mu-s">Strangers</span> from the wicked and barbarous dimension of Earth sneak in to gain lands and glory right from under your father’s nose. Regretfully, the Inquisition has <span class="mu-s">banned</span> you from seeking victory as once your analysis of the competition is complete, it will be time to make a dramatic exit fitting of your desire to be the tournament’s <span class="mu-s">underdog hero</span>. Currently, there is a mere <span class="mu-s">14 days</span> before the preliminary rounds begin for the <span class="mu-s">duels</span> where you shall compete. Now if only you knew the best way to prepare…

Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=The%20Isekai%20Inquisition

A Tale From The World Of Frostpunk

The year is 1909, and the Great Frost hangs over the heads of every living man, woman and child. In the previous decade, global temperatures dropped to an unsustainable point, and the geopolitical landscape of Earth was changed forever. Mass refugee crises. Starvation. Hypothermia and frostbite. War. Nobody survived unscathed, and billions perished in the chaos.

Many of those that survived huddled around grand Generators, built by hundreds of engineers, acting as mechanical monuments to warmth and survival. Others sought out bold new technological developments, endlessly-running trains, subterranean colonies and grand zeppelins flying above the clouds. But for the majority, there were the Generators.

You never knew the world before, having been one of the “Frostborn” — those that felt their first breath of air in this icy world. Your parents were British refugees, fleeing north from Newcastle with thousands of others. Things were very hard growing up, and you feel strange absences in your memory, repressed parts of your youth locked away by your developing brain. Mum and Dad always told you that the less was said about the White Years, the better. That was the worst time, you’ve gathered.

Since then, many cities have fallen, crushed beneath instability, lack of resources or sickness. Others have developed into busy, industrious centres that now begin to hesitantly chart out the Frostlands beyond just the immediate scope of their perimeter. Your own city, Beacon, is one of the latter.

Thread #2: http://thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6259613/

>Fed job takes you to a fairy tale.
>There is a robot in the fairy tale.
>Get cursed with a ghost.
>Met some of your co-workers.
>Broke ghost curse, sort of.
>Fed job takes you to fairy lands to find a missing person.
>Now, it's time to split up, team!

The Sixth Thread of Fatale Albion!

<span class="mu-s">The Fatale Albion Thread Archive:</span>
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Fatale%20Albion

Unfortunately thread #5 wasn’t archived so I have to use archived.moe: https://archived.moe/qst/thread/6264085

<span class="mu-s">Other Threads by Lumina Canima:</span>
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=meguca+royale

<span class="mu-s">INTRO</span> (Please do not skip this)

◕ Fatale Albion is a Spin-Off of Lumina Canima’s “Meguca Royale”, taking place in the U.K. Three players are currently taking part in this game. They each will answer to their own prompts with their own characters. This Quest will have major spoilers for PMMM, so if you haven’t watched it yet and don’t want me to ruin it for you, watch it right now or else. If you still want to read and participate in this quest then I’ll have something to show you.


◕ In the previous thread: Abigail and Stephanie successfully stop a stabbing in school caused by a Familiar by using bravery, connections, and a rifle from the Victorian Era. They commiserate over the escalation that the Witch is causing, more violent and targeted actions will make the building inhospitable. Megan and Oliver decide to escalate in response by bringing guns to school.
In a different part of York, a girl named Emily is Contracted, smuggles a body, and enters her paradise with the help of a strange but helpful girl named Marisa.
Abigail is now asleep in class, Stephanie is going to cause a localised blackout, and Emily will explain her way of life.

<span class="mu-s">OTHER STUFF</span>

>Can I also join in the suffering?

I’ve decided that I’m accepting new players for now. Just fill in this Contract Form and you’ll be all set.

Name: (The name of your character. Shameless Self-Insert or not)
Appearance: (The garish looks of your character. Clothing descriptions are also welcome.)
Quirks: (Personality traits, how they behave. Examples of how they act in specific situations are good. This space is vague intentionally, but remember: Simplicity is power and Brevity is the Soul of Wit.)
Wish: (The Wish that you made with your Incubator. Your magical ability and theme is influenced heavily by your Wish. Make sure to be careful, some wishes have unforeseen consequences.)