The lamplit city sped past her as she ran. Crisp night air burned in her lungs with every hurried step. Running from Resuri's guards wasn't a part of her job most days, but being caught in a surprise raid during a product hand-off was a hard sell. Even more so when no amount of feigning innocence would have let her walk out of there with the pale skinned girl currently trailing behind her as she scanned the city streets for a hole to disappear down.

Olivia swore she'd exercise once this was all over. Another empty promise she had no intention of keeping, but it was an easier sell than the times she'd sworn to do community service, or volunteer at the Shrine, if she made it through something.

"This way, this way!" She tugged her product along behind her, a classification she pointedly reminded herself of each time her heart jumped for reasons unrelated to flight. The flower haired thing kept pace effortlessly, her placid expression shifting from a passing crowd back towards Olivia's own as they moved. A smile bloomed beautifully across her pale face, and for a single unforgettable moment her eyes practically glowed.

Her already labored breathing hitched involuntarily, the final straw in her flagging stamina, and she ran straight into a wastebin.

The slave scout fell hard. Reflexively trying to catch herself on the bin just slipped her wrist beneath the rim as she rolled, snapping something beneath the flesh in the process. A panicked yelp accompanied the tears stinging in her eyes as she moved her now definitely broken wrist.

"You okay, 'Vi?" An unwelcome voice, but far from the least welcome thing she could have heard. "Come on, up you go."

Johnathan lifted her from the ground insensitively, only just barely avoiding making her wrist worse by hauling her up by the forearm instead. Still hurt like a bitch. "Don't fucking call me that." Olivia hissed, "Where did you come from?!"

"Took a shortcut when the raid came down." His eyes flickered once towards the product before settling back on her with an intense focus. "Guards have most of the ways out cut off, where are we going?"

"'We'?" Olivia repeated incredulously.

"Yes, 'we'." He returned mulishly. "Now's not the time, Vi'! If we don't get moving now, all three of us are going to jail tonight!"

Olivia tried and failed to shake the man's grip on her arm, gritting her teeth through the pain. A deep red stain colored his trousers, something she was responsible for. Seeing it... Her irritation with the man dimmed. The product waited patiently just beyond the man's shoulder, watching their interaction with an unalarmed interest.

"...Fine. If we can make it to the waterway we'll be in the clear."

"What in Gnome's tits are we 'sposed to do after going in <span class="mu-i">there?</span>" Johnathan recoiled. "Wait out the night 'fore springing?"

You are Charlotte Fawkins, dashing heroine, detective, adventuress, heiress, sorceress, etcetera. Three years ago, you drowned yourself in a quest to find a long-lost family heirloom; nowadays, you're just nobly c̶a̶u̶s̶i̶n̶g solving problems with the help of trusty retainer Gil and snake/maybe-father Richard. Inexplicably, many people tend to "dislike" you, though you've never done anything wrong in your life.

Right now, you are in Gil's manse. You are attempting to confront Richard about his recent erratic behavior, using all the information at your disposal: the ritual that killed him, his alleged unexpected "sick leave", and the get-well card his coworker R-D/C #1 gave you. You're hoping you'll be able to fix his weird post-death disappearances without actually turning him back to normal (read: mean)... but this is a complicated prospect. It could go wrong really fast. Not that it will! Positive thinking! But it could.

"Charlie?"

"Huh?" you say.

"Nothing. You just seem distracted." Richard gently twirls his glass of lemonade. "Is everything alright?"

Is it? Maybe it could be. "Uh, I was just... can we have a talk?"

"Are we not already?"

You meet Gil's eyes across the table. (He shrinks back unhelpfully.) "Uh," you say. "Well, yes, but I meant more about— I wanted to talk about you."

"About me?" Richard arranges himself in his chair. "Well, I'm flattered to be the topic of conversation, but I don't see what—"

"You've been acting weird," you say.

"Ah." He taps his glass twice against the edge of the table, then takes a swig of it. "I believe we've spoken about this previously. Multiple times, to my recollection? In <span class="mu-i">just</span> the past day or two? You're a very persistent young woman. Is there more that needs to be said?"

Has it been that much? It's not your fault, if it has. If he wasn't acting weird, you wouldn't have to bring it up. "You've— you've been gone. During times where you really should have been here. Again. Gil can testify!"

After you make more eye contact, Gil raises a tentative thumbs-up.

"Haven't I apologized already?" Richard is rubbing his forehead. "It's not out of any lack of will or caring, Charlotte. I have been doing my utmost to— I simply have not been feeling very well. But I am extremely proud to see that you've made it through thus far without me, and while I hope my illness subsides swiftly, I am confident that you will—"

"Your illness?"

Richard clicks his thumbnail against the glass. "Yes."

"You haven't called it an illness before."

"I thought it was apt for an unexpected downturn in functioning. I don't know the specifics, if that's what you're implying." His smile is tight.

You don't know what you were implying. "It's an illness where you're... in saltwater? Sometimes? Were you in water right before this?"

(1/3)

Long ago, on a planet called Earth, the greatest martial artist of his time managed the impossible and averted two cataclysmic prophecies that would have devastated the world. Though the world still bears some of the scars of King Piccolo's brief rampage, the future looks bright...but how long will this hard-won peace last?

>What is this?
This is a story following the adventures of a man on Earth from pre-dragonball times, where we assume the role of a character inserted into Age 440 at only ten years old - when even characters like Roshi and Shen were foolish youths. It is currently Age 460, and you've grown quite a bit.

>How does this work?
Just roll the dice I call for, simple as. Rolling a 1 will be a critical failure, and getting the highest possible result on any given dice will be a crit. Some rolls won't have crits enabled, and I'll say as much if that's the case.

>Who are we playing?
Wyald Honta, a hybrid of Human and Tiger-beastman who set out to explore the world in order to sate the call of his blood. Normally with his hybrid nature, he would age quicker than humans yet slower than other beastmen, but he has managed to sidestep this issue thanks to ingesting Paradise Herbs. He has a strong moral compass, a polite and friendly demeanour, but an unforgiving side when it comes to those who commit evil. He's slowly evolving his own fighting style with every master he trains under, and he almost always journeys with his three friends: Azalea, Barbar, and Harum.

>Last time on Dragon Ball: Legacy
You went deep-sea diving to acquire some legendary meteoric ore infused with the barest wisps of a god's energy, visited Papaya Island and met up with your old friend Tento Mushi after years apart, fished up and fought the Sea Dragon living under the ocean near the island, learned the Dragon's ultimate technique, learned a bit about some strange happenings revolving around an ancient statue on the island, revisited Teal Castle to get Ahl Demann's expert opinion, and sought out the demon hunter you know as Dude alongside the Great Wizard Ife to form a dedicated research team to try to crack the mystery of the statue and understand any curses that may be on it. Oh, and how could you forget your enthusiastic smapling of Central City's finest cuisine on one fine evening? It may have been interrupted by stopping a certain cyborg pirate and trying to talk some sense into him, but it didn't mar an otherwise great night out.


>Archive
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Dragon%20Ball%20Legacy
>Character Sheet
https://pastebin.com/a6UWzH2p

Archive:

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Tuffle%20Quest

>You are Son Peppa, Son Gohan, and Izumi Mahogany, children of Earth’s heroes, Maple, Goku, Acer, and Chi-chi

>“Canon” has taken a radical shift from the series’ norm, you’re just one part of it, and things could go even further off the rails from here

>Mechanics and character details in the pastebins here:

Peppa: https://pastebin.com/mYj7hCWk

Gohan: https://pastebin.com/P0nMbAxy

Izumi: https://pastebin.com/fXjzXsyb

>Let’s all try to have some fun, ok?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sj5PGIqnaFs

Last time, on Dragon Ball Tuffle Quest Kai! Peppa’s team met up with Kikono and Lemo from the PTO and Irico from the Galactic Patrol to investigate the mysterious metallic planet, with results beyond what any expected. The world, known as Varak, not only turned out to be inhabited, but home to mechanical lifeforms of its own, capable of changing their forms. With the initial survey mission expanding far beyond what they had planned, Peppa and co. set out to help these aliens, finding strong new allies, but facing new and dangerous foes. The most shocking revelation of all came in the form of the world’s true origin, not just as a temporally displaced planetary system, but originating from another universe entirely! And some are now intent on returning there with the help of the Dragon Balls…

Meanwhile, back on Earth, Izzy has recruited her gang along with Piccolo, Basilea, and Basilea’s Majin attendants for a mission into the depths, seeking out the ruins of an ancient civilization. What mysteries await her and her team? Good luck, Izzy! Good luck, Gohan! Good luck, Peppa!

<span class="mu-r">Threat analysis complete. Trajectory planning complete. Initiating.</span>

Your engines once more fire off with breakneck speed, having gotten rid of your human crew you are once again capable of numerous deadly manoeuvres. Moving with speed on your side, you cripple another larger vessel as you move close by, punching holes in the beast that sees it writhe and eventually die as the fight all around you intensifies as the numerous aliens start to satisfy their ravenous hunger with the flesh of their kin.

But that is not your concern, it is in fact quite fortunate for you. Yet the same had not occurred over Secundus, which means that there are still command and control elements within system that are more than capable of rallying the currently crippled, but still numerous foe. Xandrirah has been savaged, your own forces whittled to but a fraction of what you started with, if the enemy rallies, they could still very well overwhelm you. How much of a victory it would be for them, you do not know, but no matter what, you refuse to give them victory, even if it is a pyrrhic one.

<span class="mu-b">Contact with Prime established, confirmed limited W.M.D. stockpile. Low-grade, low-yield nuclear weapons of Imperium’s make. Seemingly left behind after the colony’s founding as means of last resort against overwhelming odds. Governess is willing to use the weapons.</span>

“It’s been 28 years since the Satellite War plunged the world into chaos. The great institution that was the International Forum is dead, and with it all dreams of peace and global solidarity. The Bi-Frost satellite network that once enabled large scale global communications lies shattered. The resulting orbital debris field has halted any plans of expansion into space.”

“Now surviving nations leverage their remaining industry to fortify their fragile borders, petty warlords squabble over wastelands scarred by kinetic bombardment, the remnants of the IF’s elite peacekeepers haunt the battlefields like vengeful spirits, and over it all looms the threat of Neromius; empowered by a new generation of genetically engineered mega-cavalry and unrestricted by the sanctions of the IF; the rider-chiefs of its disparate tribes and city states sally forth into the broken world in search of spoils and glory.”

-------------

The Neromian Warlord; Doruk Demir and his Iron Tide have made landfall on western side of the N.O.D.R, dragging the Miner’s Republic into a war they are ill suited to fight. The entire western region of the country would have fallen overnight if it weren’t for a plucky band of mercenaries in the right place at the wrong time…

>Cont

Your name is <span class="mu-s">Max Montagu</span> and you live on <span class="mu-s">Level 5</span>. Most people live in the industrial sector of <span class="mu-s">Panopolis</span> after all, it's the biggest part of the city. Currently, you are in the <span class="mu-i">DeliDiner</span>, your favorite restaurant chain of reprocessed footstuffs. The RedMeat Sandwiches here are the best and taste the most fresh, so you love to spend afternoons just relaxing.

Currently? You're obsessed with the <span class="mu-i">Heroes Franchise</span>- The multimedia collections of stories of larger then life characters. There's Alisa the Huntress- hunting down soldiers from an evil kingdom with nothing but a bow and arrow after her tribe was burned and raided. Or Baron the Shield- a sci-fi world with feral insectoid monsters who are immune to laser weapons and stronger then any man- and so Baron took up a shield and hammer to fight them back. Or the tales of Peter Vance, the Healer, who tragically contracts a magic plague even as he battles it to save other people from it...

These Heroes aren't real, but their stories and tales inspire you. You've seen films and played games featuring them, and like roleplaying games. You even make your own paper crafts and cosplay- though you're a bit limited on what you can get from the UpCycling Stations found around Level 5. You did get this nice pair of scissors though- still sharp- and have been using it to cut up some paper and make origami for your solo-roleplaying session here at the diner.

<span class="mu-b">“Excuse me, Tyler is that- oh, I'm sorry.”</span>

Thread 1
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5766180/

You are Altair, a Bloodletter in training sent to Calamitas Academy Of Adventurers. For better cooperation in the coming tide of evil, you were chosen to be the extension of the Bloodletter Order. While your first day was without issues, it was all until you slayed a ghoul and found a victim.

“This is my duty, I’ll stay here and see what else I can find.”

“My boy, this is a job of professors.” Professor Hoffman said.

“He’s not just a student.” Professor Yasha said, “and it looks like this isn’t your first time.”

You nodded. “If I may, I’d like to look around more.”

“Make it quick then. Hoffman.”

“I will grab the headmaster immediately.”

You went over your information. The victim was a student, human male, aged fifteen to sixteen years with medium build with well toned body. His throat was open, mangled from the bite from the ghoul. From the uniform he was a first year, no damages at all.

“Do you recognize him?”

“Hoffman and I don’t teach first years. Maybe other faculties might.”

Other than the blood, his hands and clothes had no damages at all. Not even anything under the fingernails. You rummage his pockets and find nothing. This location was far from the main campus, a small street tucked between two buildings, a quiet place for sure.

“What is this location?”

“This is where smaller classes are held. Specializations like hexcraft or spirit-works. Classes for upper years.”

“What else?”

“Ancient languages, rare dialects, rune-deciphering, different kinds of anthropology, and even necromancy and magi classes.” Professor Yasha snarled. “Necromancers, foul things they are. That's what must have happened. They can also make ghouls can't they?”

“Yes but this one is a thrall-ghoul judging from its teeth and consuming blood. But… There have been incidents where necromancers became a vampire more than any other sorcerers. Either they find a vampire or perform a ritual. Anyone can do it but it has been mostly necromancers.

“Foul sorcery that is.” Professor Yasha scoffed. “Can’t believe they teach that here.”

Necromancy. That made your stomach tight. While there were legal practitioners, you and your mentor killed plenty of actual necromancers.

“And this is a first year student uniform?”

Professor Yasha nodded.

Huh. What was a first year student doing here? Wait a minute…

“Magis? Here?”

“Only a few. You know how they are.”

“I’ve only met one. And my mentor was the one who talked to him. That magi managed find a werewolf so easily. They’re amazing. By the way professor, what was the last class?”

Professor Yasha shrugged.

“You’d have to ask the faculties. I don’t teach around here."

For now, your plan was to…

>Bait out a vampire
>Search within the necromancy students
>Get a help from a magi

You are a Cutémon!

You are one of the rarest types of mon: a mon that looks like a cute human girl!

Like all mons, you gain energy by fighting and defeating other mons. You are currently a Wild Cutémon and do not have a human trainer.

After some consideration... you've decided that you're going to lay down a trap for the son of a bitch that fired an arrow at you, and indirectly started this godforsaken mess. Besides, you need to figure out how easy it is to walk, now, though initial testing seems... promising, at least. The main thing you're worried about is how stable your stance is, compared to before, considering you're not standing on digits instead of an entire foot... Though, you do notice that the soles of your foot are not only thicker, but... Not too dissimilar to sandpaper. Not a lot of friction, though the wet grass is still a danger. Not much more than when you were still wearing boots, but... so be it.
You leave the trapping up to Snikt and Anna, who were both excitedly working together in setting something up.
As you learn to walk and wait for the trap... you also just talk to the others. Snikt has told you a few... disturbing things about Pink, for instance, and you kind of feel like you haven't had a regular heart to heart with anybody in a hot minute.
So, as you sit down, adjusting your tail to do so, you look over to Collar and Teensy, who are both playing tag with some of the fairies.
Seems that, considering the new Prince of the Forest is friendly with you, they're rather forgiving...

All the same, he doubts that this friendliness will last long. He is quite thankful that you, essentially, turned him into a fae baron and cured his madness as a result, but still... Only so much he can do.
You call Pink closer to you, and she all but sprints over. Chad decides to sit nearby as well, as does William.
"...Pink. We haven't talked in a while, and I'm sorry. Lots of things have been on my mind... Especially now."
"Its fine, Dragon! We still talked!"
"Never really beyond what's needed, though, don't you think?"

Pink shrugs.
"You are not obligated to do anything, Dragon."
You pat her on the head, smiling, and then you get a little more serious.
"...Snikt told me about what you've been saying. About humanity. Do you really hate humans that much?"
"It's not *hate*. It's... a dislike. They don't seem to understand how the world works, but they play to its tune all the same."
"You called humanity a weakness."
"It is. How many humans have defeated a dragon alone? Let alone a human willing to adopt something they consider beneath them. You are not like them."

You sigh.
"People can't be summed up by the actions of one man. Or even a dozen men. Or are you going to say that every single kobolt here is exactly like Collar?"
She blinks.
She blinks again.
"In... a way?"
"Truly? Where is your collar? Your sisterly love to Teensy?"
"I like Teens-"
"Like a sister?"

Pink goes silent.
"...I see. But this country is still awful."
"I'm... not going to deny that, though I'm starting to think a lot of countries aren't entirely fun..."