Humanity has spread out into a massive sprawling empire throughout the galaxy. The edges of the sprawl remain poorly guarded and sparsely settled after all humanity throughout a thousand stars has always been alone save for their own creations which once waged war against them. This is no longer true now an unknown force has begun to attack sector 63 and other sectors and it is up to poorly supplied and desperate sailors to hold them back.


You are the Admiral of the naval fleet of sector 63 one of nearly a 100 rimward sectors on the edge of settled human space. The war has finally turned in humanity's favor the once unending horde of bird ships, who you now know are called the Argono have finally ebbed away. Your industry soars and the first of the friendly fleets have begun to probe from Mid Rim sector 63 in your own sector to hopefully soon relieve you.

You're currently on patrol facing off against a small fleet of enemy ships made up of 4 battleships, 2 battlescruisers and 12 Heavy cruisers facing off against your veteran picket line of corvettes, destroyers, and several light cruisers along with your freshly converted semi guided missile cruiser. The enemies' lasers dance around the picket line as the push forward even as your missile cruiser comes to a stop and turns to give the enemy their broadside. There's several large flashes as all 12 of its missiles fire and burn fast toward the enemy capital ships. There is some swearing over comms as the missiles zip past the picket line and your strike craft but the pilots and captains are too busy dodging incoming fire as they loose their own torpedo strikes to give too much complaint.

Could I get a 1d100 best of three please

Past Threads:https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=BrinkQM

>be you
>be at the edge of the world
>your people are finished
>the last great city is a sinking husk behind you
>the Old King is dead, choked on his own prophecies
>the crown is in your pack, heavy with failure
>ahead lies only the Black Sands, a sea of ash under a dying sun
>the scrolls say nothing lives there
>the scrolls were wrong
>something is moving in the ash, and it has seen you
>the survivors at your back are silent, waiting
>choose

"JESUS FUCK." A bit of spit leaves the girl's mouth with the utterance of the expletive. The thin blonde man shoots an annoyed look at his coworker as he leans on his broom, watching her wipe the spit from her chin.

"Hey, management said we couldn't curse. Get that side for me." The brunette gives him an indifferent glance, grabs a dustpan, and starts sweeping in various things: rose petals, scrapped, <span class="mu-s">badly framed photos</span>, a dust of cocaine that had slipped from some celebrity's torn pocket. She scoffs at the discovery of a used condom leaking all over the concrete.

"Just saying. You'd think that at a big event like this, people would be a bit more dignified." She turns to look at the big black block letters that burned boldly on the arena sign.

<span class="mu-s">MILLER V HAWKE</span>
<span class="mu-s">FATHER V SON</span>
<span class="mu-s">TONIGHT</span>

(1/5)

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>

>AI Overview

>Community theater quotes capture the passion, humor, and unique challenges of local stagecraft, focusing on shared human experience, the magic of collaboration, and the joy of live performance, with lines like "The play was a great success, but the audience was a disaster" (often attributed to Oscar Wilde) or "Love the art in yourself, not yourself in the art" (Julie Theobald) highlighting the dedication and quirks of the scene.

You love these 85IQ simps. You're the new director for the local catlic theater. Ever since you were a kid, I mean, you're still a kid because where you are, you've got to be 65 to be not a kid. But anyways, ever since you were a kid, you've participated in all the theater stuffs every season without fail. Mostly at your same local theater, but also the summer camps and your college degree, and now it's finally happened, you've been chosen to be the new director.

Who even are you?
>Garry Hermano
>Cunty McCuntface
>Sophy Artho
>Steven Johnguy
>Jeff Joo

You are GEROME. You have been jailed pending trial on the charge of the RAPEMURDER of multiple infant babies. You are in the LONGHOUSE PENITENTIARY. You want to escape.

What do you do?

The world has another side, one with secret societies and hidden powers vying for control. But it is not merely humans, nay. For millennia, creatures which a modern man considers fables have been battling in the shadows, both within their own, and others.
Only the Magical Girls can slay the demons of humanity's suffering, and clean up the supernatural messes along the way!

Following next, a magical girl begins her first training session.

- - - - -

On the last Episode, our Heroine, Magical girl SugarRush, has gotten her first introduction to magical girl society. Witnessing the dark land of the Shadow Market where she met an eccentric ‘apprentice’ E, and a non-combatant Sister of the Magical Girls, the troubled Angel. Now, she has arrived on the beach to train with her Magical Girl teammate, Jacky.

- - - - -

You shake off your troubles, compartmentalization always works, thought it feels like the more you lock away, the quicker you reach your limit. But this is important, you’re here to train with Jacky. She doesn’t seem like the sort to make it too harsh anyway.

So you nod at the short girl. Much like you, clad in bikini and flip-flops, though carrying a small purse.
“Lead the way.”

Jacky widens her grin.
“Attagirl!”

As you walk on the sand, you feel the gazes taking you in. You stare ahead, while Jacky waves.
“I didn’t know when you were arriving, so I’ve been chatting for a while. There have increased drownings, it’s not part of our territory but it’s good to know, both for our own girls, and for the rest.”

You arrive at what might be generously called a bar, but it’s closer to a plastic shack in the middle of a beach, which just happens to have some booze on sale. A surfer dude is manning the counter, eagerly greeting your companion.
“Welcome back babe! This the friend you mentioned?”
He bears a grin as he scans you, one that falters when his eyes eventually reach your face. You have been told in the past that you have a resting bitch face, though you think you’re just honest with your emotions.
“Y’ alright, dudette?”
His question seems to carry a hint of genuine worry, but before you can answer, and probably tell him to fuck off, Jacky is already smoothing the situation.
“She had a real rough few days. That’s why she’s here, the sun’s out, the water’s great, and some drinks will make that even better.”

The explanation calms him, grin returning and head bobbing with nods.
“Yeah, the waves ‘ve been great.”
He turns, opening a cooler and taking out four bottles, two of some tripe named cocktail drink, and two of watermelon vodka.
“Can I count on you for the Luau?”

Jacky seems almost too smug.
“Oh I wouldn't miss it.”
She takes the bottles and turns, doing a slight flourish with her hips.

(1/3)

What are your daily objectives?

To most, the idea of being reincarnated into another world was a mere fantasy.

But to you...

It was reality.

Your name is John Doe, and a few months ago you got hit by a truck. After your death you met Herta, the beautiful (and perverted) Goddess of Artifice. She told you that you needed to pick a cheat skill before she could send you to one of the many generic isekai worlds available.

"Because that's heavenly policy!" She'd said.

But instead of picking between those boring options, you took the Goddess Herself and brought her with you to a world of her own creation.

This universe of hers was slapped together with 'tags' and generic fantasy themes. Some might scoff at the abundance of stale tropes and cliched genres, but things were just the way you liked them.

Well, you were still getting used to the unfamiliar logic and morality of this brave new world. Beyond being mere ideas that were held by people, these conceits extended deep into cultural thought, sculpting history and even shaping the laws of physics.

But that wasn't all this universe had in store: Soldiers, airships, mechs, clockwork robots, walking artillery units, all of these and more marched from their homeland's borders to fight in a neverending skirmish against their enemies.

Yet these modern conflicts were petty when compared to the Demon Lord's invasion. So great was that war, that the scars from that era lingered like a thorn on the side. Corruption magic threatened to destroy everything if not purged whenever it was found, despite it being many millennia since the demons were vanquished. This evil magic will grow and fester if no precautions were taken. Thankfully there were many organizations in the world that dealt with these sorts of things.

Today, gold poured from the coffers of nations as everyone clamored to get a slice of the goods and weapons available. In spite of the constant wars and battles, commerce flowed through the planet, giving and taking away fortunes in an instant.

These realities gave testament to some of this universe's priorities - war, trade, and steampunk tech.

And that didn't even mention what is blatantly the most important of this universe's conceits: Slavery. It was a fact of life. Everyone you'd met in this world approved of it and spoke about it like it was the most common thing in the world. Which, in this world's context, made perfect sense.

As Freeborn Men are people, thus women and the lower classes are considered property. Although one could argue that slavery in this world was not the same type of chattel slavery that might pop into your mind whenever someone in your old world mentioned the word 'slave'. Providing evidence to support that theory, the Bondage Accords, which are a sort of international agreement most nations adhered to, granted certain protections to the enslaved despite their legal status as objects.

Welcome Back! Due to some new job shenanigans this is a bit late but I hope you guys enjoy the new cover art for this thread. Last time we played; Mark had accepted a night shift working the guard detail for Bruce Wayne, suspected target of Kal. C. Late and Anarky...

Previous threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Gotham%20City%20Beat%20Cop%20Quest

======

"Let's put Bunko and Chen in the car by the road. No offense to 'em but Bunko's a little lazy and if he can take a shortcut patrolling he will."

Hawthorne chuckles dryly with a nod.

"Looks like you already got the next lesson taken care of. It's important to know your strengths and weaknesses but it's better to know your fellow officer's. Because when shit really hits it, it helps to know what to expect."

"Like with you?"

"Right. You know to be there to help me pull the boot out of their ass when I'm done with em." He chuckles with a wry grin that could be taken as cocky. But the glint in his eye lets you know it's well earned.

A conflict of muffled voices at the front draws your attention and just as fast as he grinned, the smile is gone and his jaw is set as he marches stiffly to the front. You watch him freeze in the door and a vein begins to creep up his neck.

"Bunko." He says in a seething whisper. "The man said no shoes..."

=====

The meeting between you all is short. Hawthorne makes his position clear, outdoor patrol goes to Banks and his partner while Bunko and Chen handle the main road. There's hardly any time for small talk as the butler, Mr. Pennyworth, is less than subtle in his desire for their to be as few people in the manor as possible. Hawthorne sets the channel for your radio checks and sets them for the top of every hour. Everyone nods in quiet agreement and you break for your patrol routes until Banks catches you by the arm for a quick moment.

"Hey D, just wanted to ask you about Kimble real quick. I worked under him and everything but we aren't like... tight or anything. But I know he feels kinda shitty because he gave me a hard time over the undercover stuff and he didn't know about-"

You cut off his rambling.

"On the clock, Banks. Whaddya need from Kimble?"

"I just wanted to invite him camping. Let him know it's water under the bridge, y'know?"

"Sure thing man, I can let him know. I'm sure he'd be interested, military dudes love camping right?"

Banks shrugs but lets out a relieved chuckle.

"Guess we'll find out. Have a good shift, D."

"You too, Banks. Be safe."

You watch him head out with Costas but you can't help but notice Costas' expression as he glances at you over his shoulder. Eerily reminiscent of the first glance you got from Rogers at the gym. His eyes flick over your shoulder and he quickly turns away, you glance yourself and see a stern faced Hawthorne.