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/tg/ - Traditional Games


File: 1390510908265.jpg-(70 KB, 600x777, the_endurer_by_andyswithy(...).jpg)
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Six years ago, every adult man and woman on the planet fell peacefully asleep, and could not be woken by any means. You called it the Bliss, for when they succumbed to sleep, they were always content.

It was the first blow of a terrible war.

Society broke down soon afterwards. You, the still-waking children of the world, banded together; some attempting to rebuild the world of their mothers and fathers, others doing as they pleased. Killing, creating, looting, repairing, and always knowing that the Bliss awaited you when you reached adulthood. You lived your lives even so.

Four years ago, the aliens attacked with their engines – invincible titans of steel and glass, drones of air and fire, things not of these dimensions. In wakefulness, they carved wreaths of destruction through your dying cities. In sleep, they invaded your dreams, tearing your frail young minds asunder. They attacked with means beyond human understanding, with weapons beyond human cruelty.

One year ago, a small team organized by one of the last surviving adults won your first small victory. They retrieved an alien machine. They called it the creche. All they knew of it was this: with it, you could fight.

Now, you are at the brink of extinction. Armed with a power you cannot comprehend, a technology you can barely operate, you will strike back.

This is how.
>>
>>29731336

“Prepare to lower the Cradle. Full dive in 60 seconds,” said the Old Man.

You try to turn towards your Anchor, Serena Foster. The Cradle held you in place – you couldn’t move a muscle. She smiled at you, holding your hand.

It was an incredible risk. The creche might as well have run on magic, for all you knew. Bits of wiring connected to circuit boards connected to spinning motors and fans and gadgets and gizmos and LCD screens. No one was sure how it worked. No one was sure if it would work at all. Save for the Old Man, all of you here were no more than teenagers, and you the oldest of them all at 19. The Bliss would take you soon. The Bliss took your mother, father, your older brother, everyone you knew.

“Don’t worry, Noble. We just want to see if it works.”

“Nothing that came from those things can be safe, Serena.”

“It’s as safe as we can make it.”

We’re no Einsteins, we’re a bunch of fucking kids. We’ve fiddled around with bits of silicon and metal and we’re making it run on a prayer. As safe as we can make it doesn’t mean shit. But you don’t say it out loud.

“Full dive in 45 seconds, Mr. Jurick. Ms. Foster, please attach the creche.”

Serena moves away. You can’t see what she’s doing. A hiss of gas, a creaking handle, a latch clicking into place. She returns, now wearing a headset.

“Remember, Noble. I’ll be in your ear the entire time, alright? Once you’re in, just focus on my voice.” She squeezes your hand one more time, and fits an oxygen mask over your face.

“Ms. Foster, please lower the Cradle.”

She disappears from your vision once again. The world around you rises up, and a viscous fluid engulfs you feet-first.

“Full dive commencing. Good luck, Mr. Jurick.”

You feel yourself sink still deeper into the fluid, and then the world falls away.

---
>>
>>29731388

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“What’s your name?”

“Noble Jurick.”

“Alright. And what’s my name?”

“Serena Foster. As if I could ever forget.”

“That was pure cheese. Never say it again.”

You look around you and see… nothing. You look down – you have no body. Gray masses floating against gray backdrops, casting gray shadows in your vision. You wonder what you’d start thinking of if you stayed in here too long.

“Your heart rate just jumped. Calm down, Noble. Focus on my voice, just like I told you.”

You close your nonexistent eyes.

“I’m synchronizing brain waves… Okay. You should have something to work with, now. Confirm manifestations.”

“Come again?”

“Tell me what you’re seeing.”

You open your eyes.

“I see…”

[Turning shapes.]
[Shimmering colors.]
[Squirming lines.]
>>
>>29731411
[Squirming lines.]
>>
>>29731411
> [Turning shapes.]
>>
>>29731411
>[Turning shapes.]
SQUARES EVERYWHERE
>>
>>29731411
Turning Shapes dawg
>>
>>29731440
>>29731506
>>29731518

“A bunch of turning shapes, I guess.”

“That’s a little vague, Noble. Try and be more specific. What kind of shapes, how are they turning?”

You blink a few times. “Squares? Rectangles? I dunno. Hard to make anything out. It’s like trying to interpret a dream.”

“That’s… exactly what it is, actually. I still need you to try, though.”

“Alright, fine.”

You squint, trying to resolve the spinning forms in front of you.

“Still can’t make anything out.”

“… Okay. I’ve altered some variables. How about now?”

“I see…”

[An endless plain.]
[A dark forest.]
[A tall mountain range.]
[An abandoned city.]
>>
>>29731614
> [An abandoned city.]
>>
>>29731614
>[An abandoned city.]
Its moving.

Its abandoned, but something is moving.

OH GOD WHY!
>>
>>29731614
An abandoned city dawg
>>
>>29731642
>>29731644
>>29731654
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-OxuD2ULMsY
>>
>>29731614

>An abandoned city.
>>
>>29731693
Writing.
>>
File: 1390513209071.jpg-(304 KB, 531x1064, mecha_overload_by_suburbb(...).jpg)
304 KB
304 KB JPG
>>29731768

“… a city. Looks like hell.”

“Come on, you have to be a little more descriptive. I can’t read your brainwaves and know what you’re seeing.”

“You can’t? That’s surprising. Is that how it’s supposed to work?”

“Ye- wait. What did you do?”

“Nothing, why?”

“I can see it now. It’s on the screen for us. Good job. Old Man, do we have a confirmed manifestation?”

“Not yet, Ms. Foster. Our drones are still searching. The manifestation has a maximum range of 10 miles, so it should be… right here.”

“Old Detroit. Noble, is that what you’re seeing?”

Barren stretches of dirt and grass under black plastic tents made of old trash bags at your feet. Dead houses, sloughing away with the ravages of time. Children huddled in those ruins, scampering about fearfully. And in the distance, the great skyscrapers lay on their sides, twisted and shattered.

This is what we are. Rats, living day to day, always in fear of the next attack. A walking corpse animated by terror and self-pity.

“… Yeah. That sounds about right.”

“Alright. See if you can move your arms and legs.”

“Do I have any, right now?”

You look down. Intricate, delicate work, jagged with spikes and artful edges, with an air of dark nobility. You towered over the ruins. A machine in the likeness of God, you thought, though you haven’t been religious for a long time. You raise your hands, clenching them into tight fists.

The children did not notice your presence.

“Yeah. I move just fine. This is a little, uh, ostentatious for me, did I use that right? Also, am I invisible or something?”

“Not quite. Think of it as being in a different dimension.”

“I see.”

“Go ahead and walk towards the city, I guess. We need you to get a feel for that ANIMA of yours.”

---
>>
>>29732145

You stride over, each step slow and graceful. You lay your metal hands on a fallen edifice. It was so riddled with burn marks and holes that you could hardly tell it still had a structure.

“Michigan Central? To be honest, I don’t have a clue.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

You continue moving. Even as ruins, the skyscrapers dwarfed your form. Wind howled. The sky cracked open with lightning.

“Noble, heads up. Alien manif-, manife-, dammit. Bad guy on top of you soon.”

“Yeah, I know. What do you want me to do?”

“This is the Old Man. Mr. Jurick, we’ve confirmed that the ANIMA system is operational. We can’t risk losing you against the aliens so early in the game, or your Anchor, for that matter. Any damage you receive in the ANIMA may well transfer to Ms. Foster. I would advise you to retreat for now.”

“Retreat? Alright… hang on, there’s still kids here! You want me to just let them die?”

“It is an unfortunate circumstance, make no mistake.”

“No, this is something I can prevent. What do I have in the way of weapons?”

“Mr. Jurick, the ANIMA you control is yours alone. You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

You could see the drone start to appear. Black cracks formed in the air, a clear, iridescent hand reached out of the void, ever so slowly.

“Again, I would advise you to retreat for the time being. The children here are little more than thieves and looters, at any rate. They have no desire to rebuild or contribute. I will remind you of our last recruitment attempt in that city.”

The Old Man had a point. You’d taken a bullet, you’d been robbed of your supplies, and Serena had nearly been raped. It took weeks of scavenging to recover what had been taken. Weeks more for the poor girl to stop pulling a weapon at every pindrop. Even so, they were the last of your species.

What do you do?
>>
>>29732393
Pull back. Let the reaper harvest the chaff of our species... dawg
>>
>>29732393
Lay down some suppressive fire, and draw the bad guy away from the humans. Retreat in a direction away from the people.
>>
>>29732462
Sounds like a plan
>>
>>29732462
Seconding.
>>
>>29732462
>>29732513
>>29732535

Writing.
>>
>>29732645

“Noble, come on. Don’t be stupid, let those bastards get what they deserve.”

“No, Serena. They’re just kids. Just like us. And I have something here I can save them with.”

“God dammit, Noble-“

“It’s fine, Ms. Foster. Allow Mr. Jurick to test the capabilities of the ANIMA system. We can pull him out manually if need be.”

“Thanks, Old Man. I'm going to try and draw the thing away from the city, get it away from the kids.”

You stand in front of the void, clenching your fists. The alien construct’s arm stretches out, grasping for the sky. You need a weapon. Something strong enough to break their shields, something to kill them with. You focus, raising your arm up expectantly.

“Nothing’s coming to me.”

Your hands roam your form. A plate, a pocket, some spring-loaded mechanism, surely your ANIMA had a weapon somewhere-

-an unbidden thought floats to the top of your mind. The warm, wet taste of Serena’s mouth. The sensation of her breath on your ear. Her fingers entwined with yours. Her gray eyes staring straight into yours.

The promise you made to her.

“I see, now.”

In your hands, you hold…

[A long glaive, terminating in a gun barrel.]
[A great cannon and a massive shield.]
[A pair of pistols, with blades under their barrels.]
>>
>>29732891
>[A great cannon and a massive shield.]
Let them drop like flies
>>
>>29732891
>glaive
Glaives are cool.
>>
>>29732891
> [A great cannon and a massive shield.]
>>
>>29732891
>A pair of pistols, with blades under their barrels

dawg
>>
>>29732891
>[A great cannon and a massive shield.]
"Hey, you were always my shield Serena..." You mumble.
>>
>>29732928
>>29732981
>>29733018

Writing.
>>
>>29733056
“… I did say I’d always be your shield, Serena.”

“What? Oh, for-“ A fist slams against a table. “… Stay alive, alright?”

You grin. You held tall, ornate tower shield on one hand, and an enormous twin-barreled monster of a gun in the other. You heave it up – it lands on your shoulder, locking neatly in place.

The drone, at long last, is fully emerged, spreading its six wings. Its clawed hand transforms into a fiery sword. It ignores you, its gaze falls to the tiny, tripping forms below. You step backwards from it, shield raised, and hold down the trigger. Motes of light like fireflies gather in the mouths of your cannon.

[Roll 1d100. Aim high.]
>>
Rolled 50

>>29733214
We're the cheesiest.
>>
Rolled 36

>>29733214
Let the cheese flow.
>>
Rolled 98

>>29733214
dawg.
>>
Rolled 76

>>29733214
>[Roll 1d100. Aim high.]
MARAAAAAAAAAAAA
>>
>>29733270
> ORE WA ANIMA!
>>
>>29733238
>>29733263
>>29733270
>>29733316

At this range, it’s impossible to miss. You let go of the trigger, and blasts forth out of your cannon. The impact strikes the drone head-on, melting away the top half of its body. Its wings tear off, fluttering to the ground absurdly, its arms launch away into the remnants of the city.

“Easier than I thought it’d be.”

You back away from the thing’s corpse. Sparks fly from its remains.

“I guess that’s that. How do I get out of here, Serena?”

Its arm flies toward you, and you lift your shield on instinct. It crashes, knocking you into the building beside you. You maintain your balance, turning as swiftly as your machine body could manage, planting the shield against the imprint you left. The arm still struggled.

“Change of plans, I’m not done here yet.”

The other arm flies toward you, pointing its blade.

[Roll 1d100. Aim high.]
>>
Rolled 100

>>29733425
Rolling.
>>
>>29733425
>and light blasts forth

Didn't catch that somehow. Sorry.
>>
Rolled 18

>>29733425
dawg.
>>
Rolled 81

>>29733425
>>
Rolled 26

>>29733425
Shoot it!
>>
>>29733441
GLORIOUS dawg
>>
Rolled 54

>>29733425
>>
>>29733441

You pull your shield from the rubble and turn, once again. The drone’s arm still latched on to it somehow, you block the blade with your shield, shattering both of the still-moving arms at once. You slam the shield down into the ground, pressing the bits of alien matter into the earth, and start charging your cannon.

Behind you, the drone rises once again. Its torso reforms, as if time was unwinding around it. The scattered, molten fragments come back together like a puzzle.

You stomp on what’s left of its arms and blast the reforming drone. Its pieces scatter once again.

You fire another shot, melting away its remains.

“Think it’s dead this time?”

“I think so. There’s another one coming in on top of you, though. Bigger.”

You look up. Sure enough, a black crack in the sky and opened.

You charge one more shot. “How many of these do you think I have left?”

“Judging from these wave patterns, no more than two.”

“If two shots doesn’t kill this thing, pull me out.”

[Roll 1d100. Aim high.]
>>
Rolled 19

>>29733632
dawg
>>
Rolled 74

>>29733632
Kill that son of a bitch.
>>
Rolled 86

>>29733632
Oh shit two coming. Find some cover we don't want to get flanked out in the open.
>>
Rolled 40

>>29733632
Rolling.
>>
Have to run an errand. Should be back in about an hour.
>>
>>29733761
Gotcha Bosska.
>>
Rolled 46

>>29733632
FIRE IN THE HOLE
>>
>>29733657
>>29733664
>>29733726
>>29733728

Sorry about that. Writing now.
>>
>>29734745
Yes, I'm ready for this.
>>
>>29734861

You release the trigger. Light fires upwards at that ugly hole in the sky, just as the new drone’s face emerges. It hits its mark. Alien metals rain down, clinking against your raised shield.

You lower it slightly to see what damage you’ve done.

“… Another shot.”

Your opening salvo seemed to merely break the faceplate of the new drone. The alien mech was easily half the size of the city, and it was descending. Six great wings flapped at its back, sending clouds of dust and debris up to your armored head. Encircled runes floated around it. It was similar to the drone you’d just finished up, but far larger and grander.

You release your final shot.

[Roll 1d100. Pray for a crit.]
>>
Rolled 65

>>29734973
Welp, here we go.
>>
Rolled 7

>>29734973
>>
Rolled 47

>>29734973
>>
>>29735036
>>29735054
>>29735200

A floating rune spins as you unleash your last salvo.

The beam of light sears upwards and-

-stopped. Completely stopped, in mid-flight. Impossibly, it turns, degree by aching degree, reversing its direction.

The spinning rune glows. The beam shatters, its energies floating down like fireflies.

“Alright, there’s nothing more I can do. I’m going to pull it away from the city. Once I’m far enough, get me out of here, Serena.”

“I… okay. Don’t get hit, okay?”

“Of course. I can’t be your shield if I die, now, can I?”

“… No, you can’t.”

The cannon on your shoulder seems to melt away as you take your first few steps back. Handy, you think. With it out of ammo, its bulk would have just been a hindrance to you anyways.

More runes spin in mid-air. From them, searing beams of fire shoot towards you. You fend them off as well as you can with your shield. You can feel it growing hotter – the ANIMA’s senses were linked directly to yours.

Another tear in reality in front of you, another six-winged figure starts to emerge. The great drone fires, and you duck behind the new figure – it is incinerated instantly.

A line of figures just ahead, running and screaming. You lurch unevenly to avoid them. A beam of fire crosses them, burning them instead.

More black cracks like lightning break the air. “I can’t stay here for much longer, Serena. Get me out of here.”

“Alright.”

You feel a jolt across your body and wince. The dead city still lies in front of you, the cracks in reality remain in sight. The great drone’s floating runes focus into a single sigil.

---
>>
>>29735395

“It… it didn’t work.”

“Serena, this ain’t a good time to joke around.” You block another beam with your shield. Liquid metal flows from it, dripping down to the pavement. More glassy arms reach out from the void. A series of spasms runs through your body, robbing you of your movement.

“I’m not joking, Noble! It’s not working! The electro-shock isn’t working, you’re just twitching... come on-“

“Serena! St-"

Your voice is robbed from you. Your arm comes up, involuntarily. Your shield falls to the ground, you fall to your knees.

The great drone's sigil glows brighter, and six-winged figures enter the air encircling it.

The spasms leave your body at last.

"We're manually disconnecting you from the creche, Mr. Jurick. Do what you can to stay alive for a little longer."

You grab your shield. If only you had some way to break the sigil...

What do you do?
>>
Rolled 13

>>29735488
>What do you do?
RUN
>>
>>29735488
Grab up your shield, use it for cover, and charge past them. Run as fast as you can.
>>
>>29735488
Throw the shield at it
>>
>>29735488
>charge and shield bash them mofos

Determination saves the day!
>>
>>29735570
Do we have anything else to throw? A tower-shield is a poor weapon.
>>
File: 1390523644244.jpg-(1.03 MB, 1920x1200, Divide.jpg)
1.03 MB
1.03 MB JPG
Are we in the Divide?
>>
Some variation of RUN seems to be popular. Could we get a consensus on which one, between

>>29735566
or
>>29735595
?

>>29735570
>>29735596
You could try throwing your cannon, but that'll be even more difficult.
>>
>>29735708

>>29735595
I'm for shield bashing our way through as long as it the fastest way to get away.
>>
Rolled 90

>>29735708
Throw shield then run
>>
Options are:

[Charge past the drone with your shield raised]
[Shield-bash the drone]
[Fling your shield, then run from the drone]
>>
>>29735899
>Shield-bash the drone

Lets do this!
>>
>>29735899
[Shield-bash the drone]
>>
Rolled 93

>>29735899
>[Shield-bash the drone]
YOLO
>>
>>29735899
So how did the remaining humans survive the inevitable nuclear disaster that would happen when all the nuclear power plant in the world overheat and blow up due to a lack of people to support them?
>>
>>29736018
I suspect most of them would actually peacefully shut down thanks to the automated safeties, and 99% of the time, the containment structures will work.

I have much more fear for the chemical plants and storage facilities.
>>
>>29735926
>>29735933
>>29735975

Whatever force the drone is about to unleash, it’s certain to annihilate what remains of the city. After fighting to protect it, you can’t let that happen.

The damned thing is still in the air… but it’s just low enough that you could hit it with a little luck.

You raise your shield and pump your legs. Steel groans as your body builds speed. Dust-devils form in your wake.

You jump upwards with all of your might.

[Roll 1d100s.]
>>
Rolled 22

>>29736128
>>
>>29736041
The problem comes from the spent rods that need cooling. They will eventually run out of water/whatever they need to cool and overheat causing a chain reaction that will cause disaster.
>>
Rolled 63, 98, 28, 88, 42, 34, 48, 21, 1, 89, 81, 75, 96 = 764

>>29736128
eh
>>
Rolled 71

>>29736128
>>
Rolled 72

>>29736197
pfft, sorry. Don't know how that 3 got in the e-mail field.
>>
>>29736223
No problem, anon. Writing.
>>
>>29736229

The sigil pulses, and fire fills your vision. The shield melts away entirely. Your arm burns in agony. Your mouth is filled with iron.

“We are disconnecting you, Mr. Jurick.”

You scream. Your shield arm, your entire left side, vaporized. You can’t believe how much it hurts, even when it’s not there.

You open your eyes. Green viscous fluid surrounds you. The clasps holding you down come off. No more pain. You swim upwards. Feedback to your Anchor. Check on Serena. If you could barely take it, how could she? You surface, tearing off your oxygen mask, wiping goo from your face.

“Serena. Serena!”

You crawl out from the Cradle, wires trailing behind you.

“She is merely unconscious, Mr. Jurick.” The Old Man squats down in front of you, setting his cane aside. You take his hand, and he hauls you up easily.

You scramble over to the chair where your Anchor sat, touching your hands to her face, seek out her hands. Just as the Old Man said. Unconscious, with a slight nosebleed, but breathing easily.

Thank God. You kiss her cheek, and hold her close.

“The… the drone.” The words surface strangely, as if your voice wasn’t your own.

“Returned home, I would imagine. It burned down the rest of the city, and left.”

The monitor in front of you flickers on, revealing fire and smoke.

“Congratulations, Mr. Jurick. You have become the first successful ANIMA pilot.”

The Old Man’s words ring hollow in your ears. You touch your forehead to Serena’s. Her eyes flicker open.

“Hey, stranger.”

“… Hey.”

---
>>
>>29736592
Shit, they were assholes. But they were our people man. Our People.
>>
>>29736592

Of the various teams across the country building ANIMA prototypes, yours was the first to succeed. Your group numbered five in total. Noble Jurick, yourself. Serena Foster, your anchor. Su Holt, secondary pilot. Nicky Friedman, Su’s anchor and engineer of the ANIMA system. And of course, the Old Man. You knew him by no other name.

“So, how was it?” The singsong voice of the other test pilot. “Was it fun? Was it exciting?”

Weird, you thought. Sometimes she acted like she was 5, sometimes like she was 30. Right now… definitely 5.

“It hurt like hell. I think it still does.” You rub your arm, clenching your fists involuntarily. The memory of the pain stayed with you. The nights were the worst – in your dreams, you would look over at your arm, and see only charred bones and dust.

“Aww, come on. You can’t tell me it wasn’t interesting! Standing a hundred feet tall has got to feel amazing... I wish I could’ve done it.”

“Please. You would’ve gotten fried even faster than I did.”

“Yeah, right! I bet I would’ve gotten a sword or something! I’d have cut that drone into scrap before you had time to get a shot off!”

“Oh? Really? But you still haven’t gotten your ANIMA to manifest, yet.”

“I’d have done it if it formed.” Su sticks her tongue out at you. She was the second oldest at 17, a couple years under you. Serena was a few months behind, and Nicky the youngest at 16. The Old Man… you weren’t sure of his age, but he had to be over 50. You wonder how he hasn’t Blissed out yet.

“Sure, right.”

“You’re just scared I’m gonna do better than you. Hey, Serena.”

---
>>
>>29737139

Serena smiles, setting a steaming basket down on the table. “I baked some bread. Here, there’s enough for us all. Where’s Nicky?”

“She’s still working on the other ANIMA system. Gets lost in it easily, you know.”

“How do you think it even works?” You ask.

Su shrugs. “Magic.”

“By the way, Noble. The Old Man asked for you. He says it can wait a while, just something you should know. And, uh…” Serena leans in closer.

“Mm-hm?” You try to chew as fast as you can, but it just won’t go down.

“Well… Never mind.” She turns away. “I’ll see you guys later. I’m gonna head out, see if there’s anything to scavenge.”

She exits, leaving the room silent.

“What was that about?”

You shrug. You’re not sure, either. You stand up and pour yourself a glass of water to help the bread go down.

What do you do, now?

[Go to the Old Man.]
[Talk to Su a bit more.]
[Find Nicky.]
[Help Serena.]
>>
>>29737174
>[Go to the Old Man.]
>>
Rolled 28

>>29737174
>[Go to the Old Man.]
After finishing our bread
>>
>>29737174
Old man can wait.
>[Help Serena.]
Let's find out what Serena wanted to say.
>>
Sorry, but I'm going to have to cut it short. I'm a little out of creative juice at the moment. I'll continue this tomorrow, and hopefully we'll finish this by the end of the weekend.

I'll post an exact time on Twitter tomorrow, but it'll probably be at the same time as today. You can follow me at http://twitter.com/MARS_ASCENDANT

Again, I'm really sorry, but I'm just a little burnt out right now.

Adventure Seeker Deadman will resume in March, and I'll drop some Deja Vu Quest one-shots next month. They will be following the lives of some of the characters before the events of Deja Vu Quest.
>>
>>29737546
It's no biggie. Hope you feel better.
>>
Rolled 36

>>29737546
Thank you for running MARS.

MARAAAA~~~
>>
>>29737560
>>29737566
Thanks for participating (BLUECHAMP PLS ;_;). I'll still be here for a while to listen to comments and suggestions. What did you guys think? How did you like this? What could be better?
>>
Rolled 84

>>29737618
I liked it.

It was a bit railroady but otherwise excellent.

I liked your characterization.
>>
>>29737618
I've played Bliss before, I think you're QMing about as well as anyone can so far. The character interactions really make or break this game.
>>
>>29737618
What is Serena's relationship with us? Is she a friend? Sister?
>>
>>29737683
Thanks, and sorry if it was railroady. I'll make sure to give you guys some opportunities to skip the rails tomorrow, especially during combat. If there's combat tomorrow.

>>29737684
Thanks. I guess we'll see if I'm up to the task tomorrow - lots of character interactions coming.

>>29737699
Serena is currently Noble's girlfriend. Depending on what happens tomorrow, that may or may not change.
>>
>>29737765
>that may or may not change.
Oh dear.
>>
>>29737765
I've only ran like a short 2 hr game of Bliss Stage once, but always wanted to play. I'm interested to see how it goes. Like others have said more agency is always nice.
>>
>>29737831
This being Bliss Stage, relationships have a tendency to get messy.

>>29737832
I've actually never played it before, and I'm not sure I want to - it's a little light on crunch for my taste. I loved the setting and the concept behind it, though.

And definitely, more player agency. I really wanted to develop a sense of who Noble Jurick is, here, so agency suffered for it. Tomorrow, you guys will be calling all the shots.

Just remember that things might not always go the way you want, and that's perfectly okay. Conflict and SUFFERING are practically built into the setting, but we'll get through it to a happy ending (maybe)!
>>
>>29738002
>Conflict and SUFFERING
Then I believe I will enjoy this.


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