Remove ads

Magical Girl Home Base Quest

Reader mode
LunarDreams said:
In Mexico,there is a strong Catholic Church presence,but like Elder Hamman's post mentioned this isn't true for the U.S for a variety of reasons. And I consider that to be the more plausible reason than simply saying 'all churches hate magic!' theory you're talking about.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
ImperatorV said:
Also I'm pretty sure the Catholic Church's official position on magic is that it's not real, but if it was real it would only be bad if it comes from the devil or other non-holy sources.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
7734 said:
You'd really be suprised.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Yeah... like I still remember when in Poland they were burning Harry Potter books, simply because they were about magic, and the Polish Catholic Church tried to ban their sale since they were "the work of Satan and a tool by which it wanted to corrupt the souls of the youngest".

But I'll accept that some countries have non crazy Catholics.
 
Taijutsu_ said:
Any particular reason for the antipathy?
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...

Mormons are, politely speaking, a little loony and tend to have massive and overwhelming organizational responses. When it works, it works. When it doesn't work, massive fireball, gratuitous denial, and

kaazmiz said:
Yeah... like I still remember when in Poland they were burning Harry Potter books, simply because they were about magic, and the Polish Catholic Church tried to ban their sale since they were "the work of Satan and a tool by which it wanted to corrupt the souls of the youngest".
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...

This is also Poland, who's domestic clergy had to deal with the Russians for fifty years and had to double, triple, and quadruple down on playing the 'conservative asshole' card. Even before that, their echlisiarchal progress was mostly based around driving problems out and not bringing solutions in: see paganism and anti-syncreatic movements, the counter-reformation, and the various bullshit pissing contests various dioceses had with each other all the fucking time.

Polish Catholicism: not even once.
 
For cursed thoughts, I find myself wondering what the Scientologists have to say. Or Christian Scientists. Or any of dozens of smaller fringe groups. I've been re-binging the Oh No Ross and Carrie archives lately and it's amazing how many weird little cults there are in existence apparently just in Los Angeles alone, and that's in real life.
 
So for anyone looking for where all my update time has been, I'd like to remind everyone that I work on commissions on any free weekdays I have from work (none this week, sadly) and update the quest once a week. After work time is dedicated to writing funsies projects, one of which is a My Hero Academia number that needs some love. I'd like to say it's not paint by numbers, but for people not familiar with first-person narratives it can look kinda self-insert-y. Either way, I highly reccomend you all check it out.

Spacebattles Link

Sufficient Velocity Link (rehosting in progress, please be patient)

Nyanarchy Club Link (For those that think this needs that 80's Neon Flair)
 
7734 said:
Mormons are, politely speaking, a little loony and tend to have massive and overwhelming organizational responses. When it works, it works. When it doesn't work, massive fireball, gratuitous denial, and
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Ehh, that's fair. Much less common outside of Utah or Idaho, but yeah.
Organizationally speaking there doesn't tend to be any gradation between jumping feet first with literally all the volunteer aid or deliberating for another X years on Y subject IME.
 
Vote Called

Edit: For people who have pieces commissioned, I am working on your material, but my grocery store just lost two dudes to Corona-chan for the next two weeks and my hours jumped. I'm working as fast as I can, but the day job takes priority at present time.
Adhoc vote count started by Icipall on Apr 27, 2020 at 12:45 PM, finished with 158 posts and 49 votes.
Click to expand...
7734 threw 5 6-faced dice. Reason: Mission Successes Total: 11
3 3 2 2 1 1 2 2 3 3
7734 threw 1 6-faced dice. Reason: Magical Girls in Area Total: 6
6 6
7734 threw 1 4-faced dice. Reason: Reoccurring Magical Girls Total: 2
2 2
 
Last edited:
Inserted tally
Adhoc vote count started by Icipall on Apr 27, 2020 at 12:45 PM, finished with 158 posts and 49 votes.
Click to expand...
 
We reached the minimum number of contacts needed for it. Still missing that last ???.

Oof on those missions though. We need to work on the workshop, hopefully get something that improves research success or has more of a safty net for research failures, then research the Kolobok.
 
Remove ads
Week 12: The Girl from Falujah; Names of Threats
  • Threadmarks


    • Sitting down at the dining room table, you nursed a coffee as Goodyear sat in front of you. He was hungover and covered in grime, with the faint smell of gunsmoke coming off him as three magical girls huddled in the corner of the room clustered around a heater. Fall had started early last week, and was coming in like a pack of lions, with deep chills and unpredictable dips down near freezing.

    "I found 'em in a school building." Goodyear explained carefully. "I think I know the rat bastard wish-giver that did it to 'em too."

    "I've got these girls and the other three you found last week, Goodyear. I can't prep rooms that fast." You said, face drawn. "Hell, we're already having trouble making food ends meet."

    "This cold snap could kill 'em, Medicine Boy." He hissed. "They're brand-new Skill types, and with the dearth of targets around here they won't be able to hunt enough to make ends meet. The only thing going for 'em are overlapping elemental affinities, but that won't mean a thing if they have to scrounge!"

    "They're virgin magical girls, they can pretend to be normal for a bit longer!"

    "Not with this storm coming down the pike." Goodyear muttered, fishing out a cigarette. "I lost three guys to the Blight last night, and these girls claim to be from Fiskmore."

    "You gotta be fucking kidding me." You muttered. "You get any info at least?"

    "Only if you take these four in." Goodyear grumped, inhaling on the coffin nail.

    "Fucking- I'll need to double them up, but fine." You growled. "Don't force my hand on this though."

    Opening his backpack, Goodyear dropped a bag of old, heavy coins on the table, followed by several slips of honest-to-god vellum. The coins were minted with a set of faces flanking a broken sword and burning laurel on one side, and the other was a demonic crest.

    "HOMER!" you roared. As he ran out of the kitchen, you whipped out a pocketknife and carved a circle around the score-and-a-half of silver pieces, before putting down a second and third barriers in salt and Sharpie marker. Fishing one out, you glared at it. "Get this to the library, find out what demon this crest belongs to, and see if we need to destroy these."

    As the silver hit his hand, you saw disgust in his face as he resisted the urge to pitch the coin away from himself. "Well, we're not keeping it for damn sure. The only thing this could buy is a wage of sin."

    "About what I expected, but we need details." You said flatly. "In the meantime, I'm putting these in the lab for safekeeping."

    "Anyway, I'm probably going to crash under your bushes." Goodyear sighed. "I'll probably be out of town for the duration-"

    Cutting Goodyear off with a slam, your front door flew open like a cannon-shot. "Oh booooys~" a too-sweet voice came pouring through like mead and fire. "I'm ba-ack!"

    Running out to your lobby, you saw Ouroboros there, now mildly tan and holding a long staff that radiated Doom. She was still wearing a bikini and coverup down below, and the cold autumn wind flowing through behind her didn't phase her at all as she walked up to you.

    "Good morning, Ouroboros." You said mechanically. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

    "Naturally! I smell a someone I gifted to, so I'm obligated to help see if he's okay!"

    From the mess hall you heard a scrambling run as someone fled the scene at maximum human velocity, only for Ouroboros to step forward and reach out through space to pull Goodyear back to you by his collar.

    "Hello, Godson!" she said, chuckling.

    "Get off me god damnit I was just leaving!" he yelled. You just stared as your main outside contact was treated like a kitten by someone who looked to be half his age as he tried to resist.

    "C'mon, you've been dodging my gift for nearly twenty years now!" Ouroboros said, smirking. "Just hold still!"

    "And you think that was by mistake?!" Goodyear yelled. "I don't need your magic to live my- ack!"

    And at that point, Ouroboros kissed him right on his stubbly cheek, before dropping Goodyear and smirking. You yourself just edged over to the older magical girl's companion, sighing.

    "Is she always like this?" you asked her.

    "Yeah, pretty much." She sighed. "I'm Sirocco."

    "Medicine Boy." You replied. "Want some grub?"

    "I'd be delighted."

    As you took Sirocco back to the mess to get food, it was a few minutes later that a young man walked in, with a clean mullet and not even a trace of a 5'oclock shadow. Staring at the stranger, you gulped as you saw him pick up the hobo bag across from where you'd been sitting earlier.

    "Goodyear?!" you asked.

    "Yeah." The younger, handsomer Goodyear muttered. "Word of advice, kid? Never, ever, fucking ever doubt someone who claims to be your fairy godmother. I gotta scram. If I hurry-" he said, shaking out a Nixie watch from under his coat, and squinting at the amber lamps "-I can make it to the train station and catch a boxcar to Washington DC. The filth of the politicians might help shake her off my trail."

    "Good luck?" you opined, before Goodyear snuck off.

    -/-/-/-/

    It was the day after that when Mistletoe decided to go get her friend to bring to the hotel. In a fit of paranoia, you sent Rose after her as backup.

    Forty-eight hours later, Rose came back with her hair and clothes covered in scorch marks, dragging Mistletoe over one shoulder.

    "And this is why you don't fucking try to blow up cars!" Rose yelled, in the one time you'd seen someone get her legitametly angry. "There's always shit that goes wrong when you blow things up, and they were nearly in the ambush area, but nooo, you have to go 'oh I can take care of that paddy wagon' and then it cooks off and then KABOOM you idiot useless lesbian!"

    "mrglbrg." Mistletoe muttered back.

    Groaning, you looked at the two. "Any medical issues?"

    "None. Also, Chris is behind us." Rose grumped, before slinging Mistletoe in a chair. "I'm gonna get a shower."

    As Rose left, you finally laid eyes on Chris. Pale skin and almond eyes and dark hair under a headscarf greeted you with a coy smile, while a cyan top and earth-brown skirt composed the core of her clothes. The black chawl on top was just overkill, really.

    "I take it you would be my new employer?" she said elegantly, with a touch of a buzz in her voice that took you back to the Old Country. "I would be Chris Malachite."

    As the name washed over you, there was no chime, no moment of Truth. It was an assumed name, even if it was an older one. Putting your head in your hands, you smiled ruefully. "I owe Sofia an apology then."

    "Several, but I can understand the mistake." Chris said. "My real name is difficult to pronounce, and it's easier for me to maintain a more American face forwards than it is to suffer some oil-swilling infidels making a mockery of my name."

    "Either way, let me show you the building- what parts of it are habitable, at least." You said.

    "I'm lead to believe that things were a little primitive." Chris said in that demure way that spoke volumes in the absence of other structure to base words off of.

    "Yes."

    Your first stop was the mess hall, still crammed with girls. The three from earlier in the week hadn't left yet, and they all timidly waved when you explained how things went. Homer had already switched over to lunch, and happily enough beef porridge with Assorted Vegetables wasn't off the menu.

    After that was the rec room- all three beanbags and two decks of cards of it- and the storeroom for your assorted materials. Then there was the laboratory, met with polite but obvious confusion, and the library. Chris did quite enjoy that facility, happily enough, and offered to write out some basic Arabic in a few of the more prominent dialects to help with translations. After that were the rooms, and in specific her room. Homer's work still held up, with the army surplus cot serving as a decent sleeping place, and the Salvation Army chair wasn't terribly uncomfortable.

    "I suppose this is my home now." Chris said, sighing. "Still, thank you for the rescue."

    "What did they rescue you from, anyway?" you had to ask.

    "Protective custody." Chris explained. "My father was involved in a money laundering organization, and when the divorce happened my mother tried to use it to burn him. She didn't understand the legalities, though, and got hit as well."

    You winced. "Well then."

    There was a moment of silence, and you sighed.

    "Take tomorrow as a settling-in period, and we'll talk scheduling after. I don't really do pay per say since liquidity is a bit of an issue with this place, but I won't ask anything for room and board or use of the facilities."

    "Alright then."

    -/-/-/-/

    The next day, you were settling in at the breakfast table when a certain plush spider started climbing up your back interrupting your coffee and oatmeal.

    "Good morning, Jocelyn." You said amnicably. "Sleep well?"

    "As well as I can, yeah." Jocelyn said, smiling. "I only need four-ish hours now, though, so I decided to make you something."

    Crawling down your arm- and holding your arm still was a challenge with said plush spider weighing fifteen pounds taking her sweet time coming down it- Jocelyn spread out a piece of butcher paper with a blueprint on it.

    "I had an idea about setting up a command and control center." Jocelyn explained, making happy spider noises. "We have too much rumor and hearsay, and let's face it: in this body, my strongest asset is my mind. With this, we can calculate threat areas, set up patrol routes and zones, and most importantly locate enemy Witch and Alchemist bases quicker."

    Looking over the items list, you grinned. "I can build most of this today, and it's not like it'll be useless with the latest dearth of targets."

    "Then let's get to work!" Jocelyn yelled as you slammed down your coffee.

    So work you did, heading over to room 4 to get to work. Chalkboard paint quickly covered one wall, and you knew enough carpentry to let you bang together a few tables and cabinets to store files in. Chris' first job working for you turned into an Office Max run, and as you got a series of chairs out of storage for anyone else operating the facility and a few abacuses knocked together to let the math flow. Calypso managed to kick in a mimeograph machine, which quickly had stencils made for forms, and things seemed to be pretty much online when you finished hanging a corkboard with a map of the city.

    Then Jocelyn started maniaclly cackling and you had to remove her bodily from the room as she screamed about her precious data. Gentle stroking of her felt coat alternating with bops on the head when she complained about having so much to do finally got her to calm down, and she could go to work without disturbing the other residents. You expected great things.

    -/-/-/-/

    When Friday rolled around, you were not disappointed. Between Chris' basic Arabic primer, the copy of the Ars Goetia, and the silver coins, they had been identified to have been made by the President of Hell, the demon Caim. What was more concerning was how beaten Eowyn, Trompdoy, and Calypso were when they came in from their hunts.

    "Some sort of fucking imps." Was the mass concencious, before the girls headed to dinner. Meanwhile, Homer and yourself were sitting in the library, with Jocelyn as your ride-along.

    "Caim…" Homer muttered, hands flying over the script in front of him. "A president of Hell, and leader of thirty legions of demons. Capable of giving man understanding over the waters, most creatures, and speaks true of what is to come to pass. Often takes the shape of a thrush, or a man with a 'sharp sword' in his hand."

    "Great." You muttered. "Someone get me a fucking Mossberg then so I can go after the ones on the clothesline."

    "You know and I know that won't work." Homer grumped. "How many demons are in a legion, anyway? Are these pre-Marian reform legions? Post-Marian legions? Thirty copy-pasted French Foreign Legions except full of demons? Would those still even be Frenchmen?"

    "Focus, Homer." You said, tapping the table you were sitting by. "We don't need a way to handle the legions; if they try and bring too much in too fast then the joe schmoes will get involved. Thirty legions of demons versus the national guard with air support will be a rough fight, and it looks like Ouroboros is in town. We should have enough firepower to get the job done against the rank and file. The devil of it all is going to be getting the President himself."

    "The title implies he's the head of a college of demons." Jocelyn kicked in as she messed around with your hair. "So it's really him and his miniboss squad we need to plan for."

    "I have his personal seal, and I can make up something to contain him in the short term." Homer said, sketching in the air with his hands. "It'll be based off an ofuda tag, but it'll buy the girls a few minutes apiece. If we schedule it correctly, I can whip out a dozen between runs in the workshop."

    "Can it buy the girls time against any officers in the legions?" you asked. "Because that's the real worry I have."

    "Probably." Homer muttered. "It'll weaken 'em for sure, and take away any power they have from their connection to the President, but individually they'll still hit like trucks."

    "I can try and track them, but we'll need every girl piping information in we can get." Jocelyn muttered. "No matter how we slice this, though, people are going to get hurt, or possibly killed. Do we have any way to mitigate that?"

    "I'll convert part of the lobby to a trauma center, but there's only so much I can do." You muttered. "As much as I hate to admit it, Jocelyn, you were a one-off. I can't dump that much effort into another girl- we don't have the supplies to consistently pull it off."

    "Then we'll need to arrange funerary services." The spider sighed. "Hopefully, we won't need them."

    "Amen to that."

    /-/-/-/-/-

    Build a Tool
    [] [WORK] Trinket
    -[] Write in Level, between 1 and 3.
    [] [WORK] Wand
    -[] Write in Level, between 1 and 2.
    [] [WORK] Bomb
    -[] Write in Level, between 1 and 1.
    [] [WORK] Costume
    -[] Write in Level, between 1 and 1.
    [] [WORK] No, you want to work on your building instead
    [] [WORK] No, you want to improve your workshop instead.
    [] [WORK] No, you want to research an item instead.
    -[] Write in Item in inventory to Reaserch

    Boarding Policy
    [] [ROOMS] Stay the course; one girl a room, rent is due when they have the money.
    [] [ROOMS] Get new girls off the street for the duration of the emergency, and double them up due to housing limitations.
    [] [ROOMS] Everyone gets a roommate for the duration; this disaster will prompt mass magical girl generations. May prompt some issues with senior magical girls.
    [] [ROOMS] Pack 'em in the hallways if you have to; turn nobody away. Tensions will spike, but you can handle it.

     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • Hmm. I'd say pack them in. This could be bad.

    I don't trust the cold spell, either.

    I'm tempted to research the healing item, safety measures be damned. Boss battles leave dead and wounded.
     
    So, we actually do know what's attacking. (Though not why.) And while working on the building got us the extremely helpful mission control room, it hasn't given us the room to hold the mess of MGs that will need somewhere to crash. And as @KreenWarrior points out, we have a very powerful healing item that might help us, but it's a risky roll that might not work instead.

    No idea if there's a specific item we could make that might help with the upcoming fight. We can't make a T3 bomb for the boss, and I'm not sure how much help the rest might be.
     
    On the subject of making scrolls, will that ever be an action option like making a trinket given that making a trinket or wand seems to normally prevent a scroll from being made? And it's not currently clear what we can do to allow a scroll to be made, even after Homer complained about not being able to make any?
     
    [X] [WORK] No, you want to research an item instead.
    -[X] Kolobok

    [X] [ROOMS] Everyone gets a roommate for the duration; this disaster will prompt mass magical girl generations. May prompt some issues with senior magical girls.

    Same thing I did last time, healing is important. Double our housing capacity for the emergency.
     
    Reader mode
    You must login or register to reply here.
    Remove ads
    Back
    Top