Somewhere in the southeastern United States is a small town named Whispering Oaks. The town has a population of roughly 10,000 people and it’s situated about an hour’s (assuming good traffic) drive away from the nearest big city. There’s nothing particularly special about this small town that sets it apart from the rest, but it’s your small town. It’s where you were born and raised, and it’s where your family’s planted their roots.
It’s an off year. The president was elected last year and the midterms are the year after this, so there’s not much in the news right now, election wise…except in Whispering Oaks. Not only is every seat in the city council scheduled for re-election, but so too is the mayor.
You’ve thought about it for a while, but now you’ve decided: this year, you will run for mayor, challenging the sitting one.
But first, we must figure out some key things about you. It should be noted that some of these factors will influence your chances of getting elected.
>Name.
>Age. (Must be 18+)
>Sex.
>Occupation. (Can have multiple)
>Education.
>Political party. (Democrat, Republican or Independent?)
>Do you live near the center of town or on the outskirts?
>Physical description and additional character information. (Optional)
Now that we’ve settled you, let’s take a look outwards…more specifically, who is the incumbent that you will be challenging? What’s the state of the town in?
>Easy: The mayor has done a bad job running Whispering Oaks. Development has stagnated, infrastructure is neglected, business and people alike are leaving. They’re expected to lose re-election, assuming that they think it worth bothering to run in the first place. They’re expected mayor’s broad unpopularity is directly sinking the rest of the city government’s approval as well.
>Medium: The mayor has not done a bad job running Whispering Oaks, but they haven’t done a great job either. They’ve stopped the town from falling backwards but haven’t done anything to make it grow. The sitting mayor is painfully average and electorally a blank slate. Their chances of being re-elected are about 50/50, depending on how good of a candidate they’re up against.
>Hard: The mayor has done a good job running Whispering Oaks. Businesses and people alike have flooded into the town, the roads lack any potholes, the streets are safe and—most importantly—people are happy. It would take some serious scandal, awfully-handled crisis or a once in a lifetime candidate to take this mayor down.
Choose wisely. There’s no changing your decisions afterwards.
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.
You remember primary school: running past metal doors and out into the recess playground, the teachers would always say "don't play rough." But inevitably someone would cross the line, and pushes and kicks and punches would be thrown over a crude joke or a prank, or for any one of a million stupid reasons.
You were never one of the offenders. But you do remember a close friends being a frequent troublemaker and an almost semi-permanent fixture inside the principal's office; on returning he would parody the principal's lecture in a faux serious voice—”propriety this, behavior that,” and other such things that kids liked to make fun of.
But at the end of whatever day he'd decided to make trouble, you would always spot him sitting on a chair inside a bereft classroom, looking downcast. Then you'd see his mother and the homeroom teacher deep in conversation, walking down the hallway and entering the room, closing the door behind them.
The following day he'd always return muted and solemn, and no roughhousing would occur for several days. You'd learn many years later that at dinner, when his father would ask "How was everyone's day," his mother would report on her son's mischief. Sometimes his father would wait until after dinner to bring out his belt. Other times, right there and then, he would administer his displeasure.
It befuddled you. Education at the point of the sword—a paradox if ever you saw one. But it wasn't something you ever personally experienced growing up, getting "disciplined" in that manner.
Your father…
>wasn’t around much >wasn't around at all >wasn’t prone to violence
Welcome back to Our Brave Boys, a quest that is more about worldbuilding (or loredumping) but also a somewhat light RP setting. You are all young men of 20 years of age and are part of the Nation's Apprenticeship Required for Male Youths, otherwise known as ARMY. The Nation is one of many countries of the Empire, but after decades of suppressing Republican Revolutions, the Nation emerged as the leading faction championing the Monarchy, placing the late Princess of your Nation on the throne as Eternal Empress.
The quest essentially runs as a world event where you are all common soldiers who have little control over the progression of the war, but are nonetheless free to write bits of your characters' thoughts and even subtle actions to bring life to your characters.
The Nation has a mandatory conscription policy for all young men, who must serve for 5 years after conscription at 20 years of age. Nearly a year and a half has passed since the quest started, although new boys are welcome. You might want to skim through the archive to understand the lore.
<span class="mu-s">The Story Thus Far</span> You are the junior brothers of Lexion XXI, 41st Artillery Cohort, Battery Green, Section 1. Any additional entries will overflow to Section 2 of Battery Green.
Legion XXI spent several seasons training and laboring in Japmi until the Southern Principality reported instability due to Revolutionary riots, prompting the Sovereign Marshal to order Legion XXI to be stationed across the bay from the Southern Principality. While Legion XXI was on standby, the Grand Prince of the South escaped a revolutionary coup, prompting General Reigen Mugen to push forth and establish a foothold before the revolutionaries dig in.
The cold, crisp air of the surrounding environment chills you to the core. The city looks so different from above, the streetlights appearing like stars from below as you scale the sleek, ebony, dimly lit skyscraper.
<span class="mu-i">"Reaper, do you read me?</span> A calm and monotone voice buzzes through your earpiece.
You sigh, the effort of scaling the building slowly wearing down even on your trained muscles. Holding the earpiece with a single finger as you hang off the building with your other hand suctioned on you press down on the auditory device.
"I read you, Crow. This important?" You ask, only managing to mask the exhaustion in your tone very slightly.
The voice on the other side tries to stifle a chuckle, <span class="mu-i">"You're nearing the entry point on the 60th floor, systems picking up multiple readings on the floor just above you. Remember.. our client wants this done quietly, you grab the USB from the floor above, get back to the breached entry, get the fuck out, preferably with no unnecessary casualties. You understanding me?"</span> The masculine voice asks.
You look up, spotting the cut window still intact with it's frame you race up the remaining little bit of the building you have left. You press your hand against the window and..
<span class="mu-s">CLICK</span>
The window comes out of the frame, your one suctioned hand sticking to it, stopping it from falling to the ground and alerting someone. You slip inside the building from the breached point and take off your climbing gear, placing everything in your black duffle bag hanging off your side.
<span class="mu-i">"Goddamnit, Reaper! Do you read me? This contracts a lot of money, don't go fucking up the bonus pay for everyone."</span> The previously cool and collected Crow buzzes sternly in your ear.
>"Relax, you remember who you're talking to? I'm a pro."
>"Money's getting to your head, Crow. Do your job, stay focused and keep an eye on my environment."
Within the walls of an abandoned café, a scheme begins to form, the take down of one of the most prominent figures of the city’s underworld will soon go underway. Preparations are happening, and you’re at the heart of it. After your short date with Celia concluded, she asked for a favor, to force her biological father to face justice: the head of the mafia, <span class="mu-s">Gianluigi Youhao</span>. You’ll be handsomely repaid for your efforts.
<span class="mu-s">The assault team</span> consists of 5 key members: You, Aurora Dewitt, Charlotte ‘Crossbill’ Summers, Celia Youhao (?), and Beanie Hedgehog.
<span class="mu-s">Beanie Hedgehog</span> consists of 4 key members: A Beanie Hedgehog doll, Veranica Mouseson, Liu Yeong, and Lydie Zexian all inside a trench coat.
During your review of the potential threats, it was revealed that one of the biggest ones is the man you defeated in a Go-Kart race, ‘Titan #1’ <span class="mu-s">Jielun Zexian</span> is Loud Lydie’s brother. Small world.
Shortly after a barrage of questions for the Golden Peak Academy Ace (that went unanswered), the second degree sisters returned to get up to speed with what had been discussed.
To recap quickly, the three threats discussed so far are:
-Former Assembly Member and Current Ka-Shing lackey — <span class="mu-s">Joe Riddle.</span>
-Former Assembly Member, Former Prisoner who you liberated during the raid, and Supposed Member of the Youhao Clan — <span class="mu-s">Sasha Langdon.</span>
-Lydie’s brother, Big Cinephile, and the Number 1 Titan of the Youhao Clan — <span class="mu-s">Jielun Zexian</span>.
What a cast. Good thing that you (potentially) don’t have to deal with them. Either way, the meeting continues!
“Why did everyone act like I was done explaining?!” Vera was caught in the middle of her explanation.
“<span class="mu-i">Huh?!</span> <span class="mu-s">My</span> brother wasn’t the main dish?! This is beyond disrespectful, Veranica.” Lydie feels insulted.
“Uhm, and well, Rora and Celia showed up. We had to start from the beginning.” <span class="mu-i">Resting Laptop Table</span> Liu says.
“I still can’t believe we’re sisters!” Aurora is hugging Celia like trying to make up for the lost years.
“Y-You’re so clingy. And, to be clear, I didn’t know either...” Celia grumbles. “Still, we’re not blood related.”
“I already told you, if you’re sis with Gisella and Pammachio, you’re sisters with me!” Rora scolds.
“<span class="mu-i">W-Why do I feel like the younger sibling…?</span>” Celia uses her third beanie to hide her embarrassment.
“I feel like I missed an emotional moment...” You wanted to watch it...
“Let’s go full throttle so we don’t miss anything else!” Crossbill wants everyone to focus. “Who wants to take it from here?”
You don't know where you are. You don't know how you got there.
You'd probably be <span class="mu-s">royally fucked</span> if it weren't for the fact that you happen to be carrying <span class="mu-s">three things</span> with you.
<span class="mu-i">What three things are you carrying? (one item at a time)</span>
It’s when I’m contemplating the optimal way of wasting my life away that there’s a knock on my office door.
“Come in,” I grumble, threading the slightest bit of power to the sigil on my left pointer. You can never be too cautious.
The door swings open, and in steps a woman wearing a sundress with enough color to give me an instant headache. I note she has four arms, four eyes, and skin leaning on a purple hue. Must be some type of Arachne, then, but the specifics of her parentage aren’t exactly my problem. She steps right up to my desk, fearless, and graces me with a smile rife with one too many fangs.
I thread just a teensy, tiny bit more power into my defenses. Just in case.
“Hullo, mister wizard!” The woman says in a voice a touch shriller than I expected. “My name’s Gina, I saw the papers you placed around town regarding your services, and I wish I could’ve greeted you earlier, oh, but I’ve been so busy the last week. I adore new arrivals, and magic, and–”
“Yeah, hello to you too.” I wave a hand to stop her rambling before it splits my poor head open. “You got a magic problem that needs fixing, or…?” I stare up at her.
Gina pauses for a moment, brain rebooting - if she even has one - and smiles wider. “Oh, yes, yes indeed I do! You see, there’s been something strange happening! I run a clothing shop down the street, and I’ve been hearing the strangest noises. It’s like something’s scampering around, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t even catch a glimpse of whatever it might be. I’m worried something sinister might be stalking around. Is it possible your magic might be able to sniff out the perpetrator? I can pay!”
A rat? Is that what she wants me to deal with; a wizard, formerly of the Star Circle, reduced to dealing with rodents? I briefly wonder what my mentor would think of me now… if they even deigned to think of me at all after the incident.
I look to Gina and…
>Agree because I might want to do a good thing.
>Agree because I need the money.
>Agree… but first I’m hiking up the price as far as I can. A wizard’s gotta eat.
>Question her. Why should a wizard like me deal with what might just be a wild animal? That’s a job for the town’s Paladin squad, not me.
>Disagree. I’m not in the mood for some menial task, even if there’s money involved.
Rain filters in through the ceiling, sliding along the support beams in just such a way it misses the numerous pots, pans, and cups scattered around the delipidated apartment and is readily sucked into the mouldy carpet. Which is then again immediately transferred to a new object: your sock. Your very next steps now all dotted with a wet squelch.
"Argh!" You cry, as you balance on one foot to pull the sock of the other, only for said wet sock to cozy up to the business end of the cigarette you had tucked between two fingers, providing a new, enticing after-taste to the familiar menthol as you unknowingly take a drag. "Huurhg!"
It might've been a week or so since you had washed that sock.
How had it come to this?
Well, the demon king lost against The Seven Braves. A poor title for a bunch of delinquents that jumped a guy seven to one. They murdered their way deep into the demon capital, defeated all the bureaucrats present, and killed the ministers while shouting inane things like "Die Heavenly Generals!"
They hadn't been generals and they certainly hadn't been heavenly.
They were butchered all the same and all branches of government were eradicated over the span of a few days. After performing what amounts to genocide, the "Saintes" had the gall to clasp her still-bloody hands together, bat her eyelashes, and say things like "No, we can't kill them all, that would make us just like them!"
And so the remaining demons, conveniently all of middle-rank and lower, were accepted as refugees into human society. What's that? You want to stay here in the demon lands? I see. Hmm? That demon from earlier? Oh, they fell into the river. Yes, lost all their limbs along the way. Wild, isn't it? Anyway, safety and a bright future awaits you in the human nation of Lightsong!
A few decades have passed since then, demons were by and large limited to awful jobs that made little to no money. The timing of the demons' arrival had been amazingly convenient, just as human society was entering an industrial golden age that required a massive labour force. Truly, the stars aligned for humanity.
The era of sword, shield, and spell has long since passed into history. Few still practice the ancient, magical arts, but demand has somewhat diminished now that you can barely chant out the first seven incantations of a spell before a newly arrived bullet in the brain informs you that you shouldn't bother with final three.
