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.
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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.
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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.
With the Tournament of Power brought to a close, the Seventh Universe has emerged triumphant once more. Led by the Saiyan warriors, the Seventh's victory was secured. And with the wish on the Super Dragon Balls used to restore the other universes that were eliminated and erased, the final hidden trial was passed, and all eight of the universes up for elimination were allowed to remain. Yet, even with this victory, peace doesn't last in the Seventh Universe for long. As old hatreds rise and long-buried grudges resurface, will you have what it takes to keep everything you've worked the last 28 years of your life to build? Or will those who seek your end ultimately triumph? That all depends on you, and your choices.
You the players will (most often) control Karn. A Saiyan man who has grown from his lowly beginnings as a mid-tier Saiyan Brawler with a sub-3000 powerlevel in Age 733 to become not only the strongest Saiyan of his time at AGE 759, but also personal friend to the former emperor Lord Freeza, father to over a dozen powerful and unique children, a mentor and teacher to his fellow Saiyans, and the indisputable winner of the Tournament of Power. Wielder of the Berserker Soul, and the powerful Stand Divine Dragon Force, you're fully equipped to handle any threat that comes your way. But what will you do when the threats aren't always physical, when you can't simply punch all your problems away?
Quest rules are as follows(unless otherwise noted): >30 minute vote times >Pick ONLY ONE option when voting >Dice rolls are all best of three correctly-rolled dice >At ten minutes past your previous roll, and there are not yet enough rolls, you may roll an additional roll >Crits are 100 on a d100 >99s or paired rolls may net you extra bonuses >Crit fails are a 1/100 with no passing rolls, or if two 1s are rolled regardless of the third >Write-ins are both allowed and encouraged, but OOC options will be ignored >If your goal is simply to troll, at least put in enough effort to make it funny >Have fun
SCQ will usually start on Saturdays at noon Eastern Standard Time, and run throughout the weekend. Also, for updates or schedule changes you can also find me on twitter @GrandDragonQM, which I keep as up to date with any scheduling changes.
Totemists, one of the first lines of defense against the malicious and monstrous, famed slayers of Behemoths which are perhaps the most dangerous examples of such, and bridge to the domains of spirits and magic unseen. The role is not an easy one of course, but it must be done and has been since time before almost all written history.
You are Capran, young man of the Four Peaks mountains, pupil of Oranya Skystrike.
There has been a lot of unrest on the mountain slopes lately, the issue growing further with each day it seems, but with your teacher still guiding you, there will always be a way to deal with it the trouble.
Such as this post mimic, which stands on thin wood-splinter-like legs and angrily spears them into the ground beneath it at the failure of its ambush. You stand nearby your teacher and her friend Heyra, ready and willing to destroy this mimic.
Awful thing. You're rather happy you three are the one who found it rather than some poor patrol guard or villager.
All preparations are over. No more distractions. You gotta get the plan underway. The main objective is to drag the head of the mafia (Gianluigi Youhao) out of his own little bunker. Thrust him into the spotlight his men are creating, and let the law enforcers do their job. This is the only way he’s going to face justice before he moves to a safer place. No other window of time. No other opportunities.
The first part of the mission is to go through the hidden passages in the sewers that lead directly to the Youhao Clan Headquarters. Celia knows the way through these catacombs, and the base like the back of her hand.
“Hey, hey, who died and made you queen? You’re not coming with us, are you?” Celia slips out of Lydie’s friendly arms. The eccentric fan club leader ended the last thread holding you both.
“Haven’t you noticed?! We’re divided into two teams. We need our beautiful flame wielder!” Lydie points at you and Rora. “Our intrepid yet sneaky thief!” Lydie points at Crossbill and Celia. “And the wildcard with exceptional athleticism!” Lydie points at herself and Matilda. “You know, the essentials!”
“So, we are, like, me, Crossy, and Mat?” Aurora is doing the math. You can tell she’s serious since she’s using her fingers.
“Count me in.” Matilda is so ready to kick some butts.
“Sounds arbitrary, but eh, there’s no idea I can’t make work. Welcome to the best trio, Mat.” Crossbill sees no issue.
“Your trio has nothing on us.” You get competitive with your bestie. “Tell ‘em, Celia.”
“Huh, yeah, yeah. Sure.” Celia gets into a fighting stance.
“W-When did we agree on this…?” Liu missed this bit!
“Never! You should know by now that she’s making stuff up!” Vera grumbles. “Now sit your clown ass down. We don’t need a wildcard.” Vera starts dragging Lydie back into Beanie Hedgehog.
“M-My dear Veranica, did it slip my mind?! You’re the navigator of our beautiful and flexible team, welcome!” Lydie is trying to gain favor.
“Welcome to the best quartet, Liu.” Crossbill winks.
“I-I’ll do my best!” Liu will fight hard!
“Wait, then I’m with Johnny?” Vera stops dragging. “That’s great. You’re still not going.” Vera continues dragging.
“T-This is utterly unfair! My thick legs are meant to run faster than the wind, not sit comfortably at the bottom of a perplexing totem tower...!” Lydie wants to be part of the operation, and not be one with a hedgehog.
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>
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
<span class="mu-i">Once upon a time, there was a stricken land where there was no such thing as day, nor morning, no sunrise or sunset, but endless dark. It was alone and obscure, on an island surrounded by waters as black as the sky. Yet the wind carried whispers of warmth and light, so the sad peoples of this land, intoxicated by the drink called hope, entreated their king to find the mythical sun and bring it to their lands. The king of the dark vowed to bring the morning to his people, and departed.
After five years, while the king did not return, the morning did come, with all of the light and warmth that could be dreamed of. Yet while the people were happy, the new king’s heir, his granddaughter the crown princess, was skeptical of this new light. So, she ventured over the dark waters towards the light, and finally, she found a great tower atop which burned a sun nothing like had been spoken of, nor what seemed to create the new day.
There she met her grandfather, and demanded of him the truth. Was there a sun, or no? Were they living in a day that was just night under a mask? Her elder, sad and weary, asked the simple question of if she could tell the difference. What distinguished the False Light from the Dawn?
She could not answer, and returned home, keeping the secret to her grave. Yet, friends and followers of Ange, what if the Dawn that comes is false? What if it is so convincing that none of us can tell it true? What if indeed, the facsimile created is the true one after all?</span>
-The Heresy of the False Light, Apocryphal Speech said to be performed by Disgraced Socalist and Disciple of Anton Ange, Aster Du Langue
Your name is Johan, no last name given. Although you had to admit that self-nomenclature was of little import at the moment.
Especially now that you were in such a surreal landscape, one that was ever shifting and turning. It was a place were neither day nor night reigned--yet both divided their realms in the sky in an almost perfect line. What remained of the moon brightened your way in spite of this paradox; the newly minted stars speckled the sky like... well, stars.
On the subject of the heavenly bodies, the moon itself was shattered in the sky, bleeding out a waterfall of clear-dark liquid onto the mountain that it was closest to. The theater that was once proudly upon it was in shambles, barely recognizable. These three changes were, somehow, direct consequences of the actions of your lover. You intended to speak with her about that later, preferably after you all stop running for your lives.
The once strange and twisting town, placid as it also once was, was now slowly inundated with a deluge of moon-water, overwhelming the streets and alleyways until merging with the ocean. Said sea rose into the ports and piers and made the canals overflow. Market stalls were extricated by the water's force and slowly drifted away, roads became slick with a dark tinted water, buildings became flooded. But oddest of all was that the winding, changing, shifting and almost living town had now gained a semblance of stagnancy despite being overwhelmed by a flood.
Two people tailed behind you: Jeremy keeping a steady pace while Mimi was quickly catching up to you. While Jeremy was a good friend and a decent enough fellow in your eyes, though to be fair you'd only known him for less than half a week, Mimi was the person most close to you. And she was your aforementioned lover. While the idea of having a <span class="mu-i">girlfriend</span> was something you never really considered in your mind (at least not in a conscious level) there was definitely some romantic tension the two of you shared with each other. Now that you thought about it, <span class="mu-r">it was mostly at Mimi's insistence and assertion to be close to you that served as the catalyst to the relationship.</span> At the very least, <span class="mu-b">that strange aversion and frustration you held towards mimes was slowly being eroded, thanks to her.</span>
It is the chirping of the birds which first jolts you from your stupor, proudly sitting upon their trees, singing jollies to and fro of the merry morning lights. You, who had found no rest, no shut eyes throughout the night, take it simply as an ringing pain on your head. For though you had momentarily found yourself lacking in cognition, it was not rest which you had felt, but a lapse in concentration, a departure of your thinking to some state of sickly torpor.
You had not slept for the entire night, and certainly, it hath given no benefit to your condition. But then again, how could you, with the challenges that you faced?
You are <span class="mu-s">Alessandro Galliota</span>, the Viscount of Portblanc. That much you can be sure of, even in your sorry state...you, who had been brought here to this land of Nera, this distant land from your own, by your great liege <span class="mu-s">Don Carles IV Brascarams</span>. You had come here to wage war in the name of the Spisa family, allied to your country, against the forces of the Fortelli, friendly to your foe. You had launched a campaign throughout their borderlands, partaken in a siege, and most of all, you had faced a force far mightier than yours, many times greater in both number and capability, aided by scores of Himmmerian Giants, those most fearful of enemies of the human race. For a whole day, you had succesfully fought them of, and, shattering the bridge which they sought to take in an pivotal moment, you had sunk to the depths of the river hundreds of their men.
You escaped death, too, by a hair's breadth, when the infamous <span class="mu-i">Famiglia</span>, those mighty knights of Nera, armed with beastly amazonian mounts, had been able to momentarily breach your formation. It was only by bidding your musketeers to fire upon them even as they fought your own men that you had survived, though at the cost of your entire retinue. All those things and much many others had happened yesterday, in this battle upon the Vessena. This battle, you are certain, has not ended yet, and it is this which brings you trouble. For today you must <span class="mu-s">seek out victory</span> and find a way to hold your foes at bay until the city of Montechia falls!
For now, however, breakfast will have to do. Shaking yourself out of this stasis, you raise yourself from the piece of wood that you had used as a seat for the night. <span class="mu-i">Because you had fled into the grove to make your camp</span>, you did not have the amenities of your lordly tent. Of course, compared to those amongst the soldiery who did not have any tent at all, you were not in a poor state. You order one of your servants to gather up whatever is available for you. What you receive, after some time, is...some bread, and some of the cheap rum that was served to the soldiery. Though it be enough to fill you, you cannot help but feel some manner of bitterness in the knowledge that you stand but a few minutes of travel away from your supply wagons.
