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/tg/ - Traditional Games


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Pylarians are a species of bipedals identified by their high muscle density, aggressive and showy tendencies, and the hornlike organ protruding from their foreheads. This organ, varying in size, shape, as well as number, is used to 'sense' various electromagnetic and even seismic changes, presumably in order to navigate the ever-shifting and often floating terrain of their homeworld. Nowadays, these traits make them invaluable in spaceship upkeep due to their ability to intuitively "feel" what is wrong with a ship and fix it.

Similarly, their aggression has earned them in a place in the business world, where their cutthroat policies and stubborn nature give them an edge in the dangerous world of multigalactic corporate politics, culminating in the Federation of United Bankers, a sovereign government mostly comprised of Pylarians and their cybernetically enhanced indentured servants. Of further note is a near species wide obsession with bodily modification, one that stretches beyond their earliest recorded history. It is not rate for a Pylarian to be hiding chemical throwers in their fingertips or to have chainblades embedded in their forearms.

---

But you don’t care much about any of that right now, because you are Space Pirate Captain Valdessa Atroxius, and you are kinda sorta bleeding out in the middle of your cargo bay right now thanks a pair of cyber-hitmen belonging to the Federation of United Bankers over an eight year old loan you kinda sorta never payed a single credit of when you stole. Even more worrying is the fact that your one and only vintage Hauliphant brand cargo truck has been reduced to an ignoble scrapheap during all the commotion. Sure, you got that artifact you needed to help you locate Scaly Dan's treasure, but at what cost? That rickety old clunker was your pride and joy, second only to The Sol Regret, and now it was dead.
>>
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>>33278272
"You should really go see the doctor. You always get a touch moody when you lose too much blood."

Oh, Cernu. She did that thing again where she just shows up outta nowhere and sneaks up on you. You didn’t even notice her nestle herself under your good arm. You’d tell her to stop, but it makes her convenient to find at least.

"I don’t wanna, she gives me the creeps and my truck is dead…" You complain in your best whiny voice, closing your eye and ignoring her attempts to lift your sizeable mass up by tugging at your good arm. After minutes of this fruitless struggle, she lets go of your arm and sighs as it flops limply back down, having done little more than scoot your torso forward a few inches. Fully prepared to go back to sulking, you're caught by surprise when you feel those warm, smooth hands of hers on your cheeks, caressing that spot where those scaly patches of yours meets your smoother skin.

"Go visit the doctor, captain. I shall make use of the minifacturing kit and Koma to restore your truck."

"Cheater! You know I'm sensitive about those…" You manage to mumble out as the blood rushes to your face.

"Pirate." She corrects with a wicked smirk as those delicate fingers of hers make their way to your neck, still tracing your Scale Trail. "And I also know ‘those’ are sensitive…" You scramble up on your tail and straighten your clothes as best you can with one arm.

“Alright, alright! I'm up, so no more stroking my weird birthmarks.”

Man, you’ve really taught that girl way too damn much about fighting dirty.

>Ugh, fiiiine. Time to go see the doctor
>You’ve still got plenty of blood, head to the bridge check on the dais first.
>No use facing the enemy on an empty stomach. Get fed, then get operated on.
>>
>>33278304
Our dryad is lewd! We have to get back at her later.
>Ugh, fiiiine. Time to go see the doctor
>>
>>33278304
>You’ve still got plenty of blood, head to the bridge check on the dais first.
We're diligent.
So wait, we have sensitive birthmarks? How...useful.
>>
>>33278304
I forgot entirely about all of this.

And yeah, we should probably

>Ugh, fiiiine. Time to go see the doctor

I mean, our arm is hanging limply and uselessly. But none of you berks better slack off while we're gone!
>>
>>33278432
You got scales where you shouldn't got scales. Kinda like Scaly Dan, but to an obviously much lesser degree.
>>
>>33278304
>Ugh, fiiiine. Time to go see the doctor...but she owes us!
Let's be reasonable to an extent. Fly off before she can protest the debt!
>>
>>33278458
Actually, maybe let's double check the dias for just a second right before doctoring, on second though.

Dias is important.
>>
>>33278482
That's QT as fuck.
>>
>>33278304
>Ugh, fiiiine. Time to go see the doctor
Doctor, doctor, pleeeease!
>>
>>33278304
Man I love our dryad.
>>
It's a pretty good move as QM to head off the waifu effect with one in place already. It does help that both Valdessa and Cernu are interesting characters with an engaging backstory instead of barely fleshed out caricatures.

I really want to read that back story one day.
>>
>>33278847
I was about to say anon, you place a lot of trust in two back-stories that are barely fleshed out. Though I trust QM to do them justice, I've been pleasantly surprised by the writing in this quest so far. B+ characterization at the very least.

Biggest drawback is that there's so much time between threads, I forget every detail from one thread to the next.
>>
>>33278304
>>Ugh, fiiiine. Time to go see the doctor
>>
>>33279270
>>Time to face the music…
>>
>>33278847
>I really want to read that back story one day.
I'm working on it. It's abput half-done right now.
>>33278905
>Biggest drawback is that there's so much time between threads, I forget every detail from one thread to the next.
I'm also working on a pastebin with various character bios.
>>
>>33279270
>Time to face the music…
Ma-uh...Naga up, Valdessa!
>>
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“Fiiiine, you win. But first lemme check on the dais real quick. I’ve got plenty of blood to last me that long.”

“After you visit Lorelei.” She corrects, looking over the wreckage that was once your baby. “We are drifting in the middle of unclaimed space and your dais is still configuring. Your presence is not currently required anywhere but the medbay.”

“It’ll take five seconds, woman.”

“I will tie you up and get Toshka to haul you there myself if you press me to action.”

She knows how much you hate getting manhandled by that Pylarian midget, so she is really busting out the big guns on this one. Well, you have been getting mauled quite a lot recently.

“My truck better be purring like a Gatoran in a sunny patch once I get back!”

“As you command, my captain.”

You slither off as angrily as you can muster (you would never want legs, but by The Eternal and The Oblivion are they better for noisy exits). Oh, she is totally going to get it later, just you wait. You’ll…you’ll do something alright. Man, thinking is kind of a pain right now. Maybe you SHOULD go visit Her after all.
>>
>>33279298
W-where'd the update go?
>>
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>>33279325
The door behind you seals shut with a familiar pneumatic hiss, but the one in front of you refuses to open. You always hate this part. You cringe and shiver as you're misted with the sterilization spray that smells like someone tried to crossbreed a hospital with lemonade. Wait, you’re really already at the medbay? You hardly even remember making your way here…Oh well. You’ll worry about that one later.

Beyond the other room is a grisly carnival of spare parts and medical instruments. A still beating heart in a jar, a severed arm attached to various probes, an amorphous blob of…something desperately trying to escape its confines. All these wonderful sights and more greet you from within the lair of your doctor. At the center of this shrine to mad science, you see her scanning one the Mechaniacs with even more strange and frightening machines. That one with the mask bolted to his face and the metal fragments that seem to be jutting outwards instead of inwards. Jace-something, you think. Well her body is, at least. Her head is sitting on a table across the way, eyes flitting back and forth between various monitors.

“Well Grayson, you still have no heart and I still don’t know what that organic mass where your heart should be is, but come back tomorrow and we can run some more tests on you~!”

A shiver runs down your spine all the way to the tip of your tail. Invincible lionmen and psychotic cyborg assassins are one thing, but you just can’t stand doctors. Especially ones who are so cheery about their work.

>Noooope! Bail out and come back later.
>Time to face the music…
>Writein
>>
>Time to face the music…
>>
>>33279348
>Time to face the music…
Aand again.
>>
>>33279326
I forgot the first half of it like an idiot. Your votes are still accounted for.
>>
>>33279348
>Noooope! Bail out and come back later.
I'm sure we'll get caught, but eh. Worth a shot!
>>
>>33279348
>>Time to face the music…
>>
>>33279326
>Time to face the music…
Better to be tortured and healthy than ill and, uh, un-tortured? Whatever.
>>
>>33279483
Oops, meant to link >>33279348.
>>
>>33279348
This chick is clearly great, I dunno what we're being so scared about.
And you do a good job finding images for the characters! Do you have a bunch prepared or something?
>>
>>33279348
>>Writein
Maybe if we get a bit of drink first, this whole thing will seem a lot easier
>>
>>33279625
Hah, sure, supporting. Only good things can come of this.
>>
Quiet here, huh.
So...
Cernu best girl.
>>
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With a sigh and a cough to clear your throat as well as your nerves, you announce your presence.

“Doctor Lorelei Lynn, your captain has need of your talents.”

Lorelei’s head spins around on its little rotating serving dish platform…thing and her eyes brighten up.

“Captain! So good to see you! I heard you got in another little scuffle and I was wondering when you’d come to see me! Off you go now, Grayson, the work of a doctor is never done~!” She tries to brush some matter off of her dirty labcoat as she shoos the Mechaniac off, only succeeding in adding a new smear to it, already looking tie-dye with all the bloodstains from various species. As Grayson gives a muffled grunt through his mask and heads off, the operating table lowers back into the floor and she clasps her hands together eagerly. “Now for you, Captain, step – or slither, as it were, - over here and let the doctor look at you!”

You hesitantly make your way over to the designated spot, but before you can lay down or otherwise ready yourself, she injects you with ~something~ and you quickly lose feeling all over. Unfortunately, you are still very much conscious as the table begins to rise.

“There we are~! An anesthetic of my own making to calm you down. Keeps you cognizant, but lets me play with your insides without you feeling it! This way, I don’t have to wait until after the surgery to tell you what I'm doing to you! Isn’t that great?!”

“Just perferct…” you mutter as her head pouts while her body begins to slip off your coat and inspect the wound.

“Oh, don’t be like that! I don’t see why you put up such a fuss, this is the whole reason you hired me in the first place.”

“I didn’t hire you. I just found you aboard my ship one day and you were experimenting on my boarding crew.”
>>
>>33280137
>“I didn’t hire you. I just found you aboard my ship one day and you were experimenting on my boarding crew.”
We sure know how to pick 'em!
>>
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>>33280137
She chuckles and flashes an innocent smile at you. “Oh right! I swear, I'm so forgetful that I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached to my neck~!”

“Not…funny…” You manage through gritted teeth as the body begins to poke around the wound in your side. You can’t feel it, sure, but you can hear it, and that is unpleasant enough.

“Aww, that one usually gets at least a chuckle. Anyways, it appears that your right lung has been nearly shredded into confetti and your shoulder is snapped like a glass twig. Thankfully, Nagas are among the top three quickest healing species, so you should be fine in a couple of days. Not counting Foliates or those Mechaniac fellows of course.” She gives you another overly cheery beam. “Did you know that I’ve vivisected the other two, but you're the only Naga I’ve ever worked on~!”

“That’s…great…”
>>
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>>33280177

“One of these days, you just HAVE to let me poke around!”

“Are you done yet?”

“Almost~! Now what flavor do you want?”

“Flavor?”

“I like banana cream pie, so let’s go with that~!”

Before you can protest, you hear a can of condensed air spraying right near where her body is working on you. She ignores all your complaints and hums to herself as you try to get her to talk and the table is lowered again. One injection later and feeling is slowly returning to you, your right arm cast in a sling and stitches just below your ribs.

“All done~! I injected a biofoam matrix to keep your organs in a place and accelerate healing. It should just dissolve into your bloodstream in a couple days time, but should any internal bleeding occur, you’ll cough it up along with your blood, but at it’ll taste like banana cream pie instead of death! Have a nice day.”

You gather your things and hitail it out of there. Cernu owes you SO BAD for this. Where to now, Captain?

>Bridge, it’s time to dais
>Cargo bay, gotta check on your truck and yell at Cernu
>Mess hall, you feel sick but hungry at the same time. And you need a drink after all that
>Writein

BRB in 20 mins
>>
>>33280199
>Mess hall, you feel sick but hungry at the same time. And you need a drink after all that
Cernu gets the silent treatment for a little bit.
>>
>>33280199
>>Mess hall, you feel sick but hungry at the same time. And you need a drink after all that
we needs us a strong drink, all good pirates need a strong drink after a good fight
>>
>>33280199
>Bridge, it’s time to dais
No rest for the wicked. Which we definitely are.
>>
>>33280199
We need a drink.
And a dias.

Go get a drink and drink it while gloating over our dias.
>>
>>33280199
>Cargo bay, gotta check on your truck and yell at Cernu
GOTTA yell at Cernu.
>>
>>33280199
Grab a drink, sure.
>>
Well we did just stock up on booze. It'd be a shame to let the crew drink ALL of it.
>>
Back and writing. Apologies for the wait.
>>
>>33280563
Indeed. Quite a pity!
>>
>>33280668
I'm gonna go sleep, thanks for running! How much longer are you going?
>>
>>33280853
Not sure. A few hours at least.
>>
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You're not gonna deal with Cernu right now. You are way too hungry and way too sober to do much of anything but stuff your face and pickle your live, so that’s exactly what you're going to do.

The mess hall is yet again awash with delicious aromas and filled with assorted crew members catching a quick meal between duties, with Lyka presiding over the affair from her kitchen, wearing her trademark apron and dour scowl. Your tongue flickers out instinctively to get a stronger whiff of all those tantalizing scents as you make your way to the serving table.

“Chief Cook Lyka! What a wonderful feast you have prepared for us! Pray tell, what DID you cook that smells so delicious.”

She fixes a glare at you.

“I cook what I cook. Choose what you choose. I not your mother, I just cook better than her.”

“Jokes on you, I never met my mother!” You shout back as she heads back into the kitchen to prepare another dish. Ha! That oughta show her! Wait…Anyways, you grab what looks to be an entire spitroasted pig (or at least something with a snout, tusks, and spines trailing down its prehensile tail. Pigs have spines, right?) and four bottles of Rotugan Rum, the strongest stuff ever brewed on the outlaw planet and your homeworld. A light meal, but you did just get back from surgery.

Now, who to sit with?

>Toshka and Rosco are eating together. You could always bug them about that whole sibling thing
>Hey it’s Texaport. You never did find out what a Spindlemen is doing this far out from Jerghintos
>Looks like Lyka is taking a quick lunch break, I bet she would love some company
>Writein
>>
>>33281216
I don't know what most of these things are. I probably am not remembering right.

I guess let's visit the siblings first, based on nothing in particular.

>Toshka and Rosco are eating together. You could always bug them about that whole sibling thing
>>
>>33281388
Damn, I really need to get that crew pastebin up. Quick rundown:
>Toshka
One of your techies. An unnaturally short Pylarian whose vocabulary is riddled with slang from the neon cities and body riddled with their chrome. Claims to be Rosco's sister despite their difference is skin tone, stature, and species.
>Rosco
Your helmsman and one of the only two humans aboard The Sol Regret. Cybered up and talks funny. Insists he's Toshka's brother despite being different species.
>Texaport
Spindleman (lanky, four arms and hand-feet, dextrous fingers, artificially made for ship travel and upkeep) techie and the only one of his kind known to have a sense of humor. Or a name. Yes, it's a pun and he likes it that way
>Lyka
Gatoran (catgirl) cook. Her amazing food makes up for her less than amazing attitude. Don't ask her why she isn't bubbly like Gatoran girls are supposed to be if you value your meals. Or your face.
>>
>>33281216
>Looks like Lyka is taking a quick lunch break, I bet she would love some company
>>
>>33281704
I don't mind giving compliments to the chef.
>>
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You take your bounty and hunker down across from Rosco and Toshka, your meal taking up more space on the table than the two of theirs’ combined. Between hearty mouthfuls and swings of rum, you try to start up a conversation.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the siblings Phillips. Makes me wonder what your parents looked like.”

Rosco looks away nervously as his “sister” continues to ignore you, head tossed back and rum rapidly dwindling from its bottle. “Aw c’mon cap, aint we allowed some loafin?”

A predatory smirk plays across your face. “What’s the matter, Rosco? I’m just making sure my crew is doing alright.”

“S’cuz yer a Nager.” Toshka slams down her bottle next to an empty one and starts to drunkenly slur at you. “We’s was always told t’avoid Nagers. Howzit go again? Nev..Nevers make a deal wivva Nager, theys playin’ a long game. Yer th’first one we’s dealt wiff since that one gig what got us offa Gibs-12 inna firs’ place.”

“So that’s how it is, Rosco? You’re afraid of your dear, friendly Captain?” You lean over your half-eaten pigthing and pout at him.

“I ain’t afraid!” He tries to protest. “I jus’ make it a point not to get too chummy with somethin’ that can swallow you whole.”

Wait. What.

“You know we can’t actually do that, right? It’s just an old urban legend.”

“Had me fooled th’way yer scarfin that pig.” Toshka mutters into her third bottle before tilting back again.

“That’s nothing. You’d be able to eat this much if you were my size.”
>>
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>>33282363
Toshka slams down her bottle once more and glares at you. “Yous saying somethin’ bout m’height?! I c’n take ya ons! Jus…name yer battlefield!”

Oh shit, you forgot about her whole height complex, being only four feet tall and all. You just wanted to crack a few jokes and maybe find out a little about your crew. Oh well, too late to back out now, the only thing left to do is pick your battle.

>Arm wrestling
>Drinking contest
>Knife throwing
>Writein

Since the other two votes came in after I started writing, Lyka would be involved in the next scene, no matter what you choose
>>
>>33282390
>>Drinking contest
>>
>>33282390
>>Writein
Fine. You think you're so big?

Eat one of these pigs. Pig-things. Whatever they are.
>eating contest
>>
>>33282390
>Drinking contest
A true pirate competition
>>
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You chug three of your bottles of rum to match Toshka. You miiight regret that in about five minutes.

“Fine, then. If you can talk tall, I esspect you ta match” Hoo boy, this is gonna get interesting “ta match yer words in the age old battlefield of drink!”

Before you can even finish your proclamation, a keg is already being set up between the two of you and other crewmates are either joining in or taking bets. Drinking contests are one of the most cherished pastimes aboard The Sol Regret and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You spy Lyka rolling her eyes at the commotion and trying to find a seat away from the crowd, but it’s already too late to avoid your notice.

“Oiy Lyka! Come join th’festivities!” You call out to her

“No.”

“Whassa matter? Is yous a scardeycat?” Toshka chimes in.

You swear you hear the pop of displaced atoms as Lyka goes from across the hall to next to you before you can blink. “You will eat words, little girl.” She points one judgmental finger back at the serving table. “And pig”

“…wha?” The rum is already starting to get to poor Toshka, making processing simple commands a monumental task.

“Little girl will shut big mouth up with big pig. Or is too much for little baby stomach?”

Toshka puffs up at that. “Ain’t nuffin I’s too short fer! I’ll take ya all on!”

Roll 1d100 for drunken shenanigans.
>>
Rolled 35

>>33283050
We will be the superior drunken shenaniger
>>
Rolled 28

>>33283050
Shenanigans ho!
>>
Rolled 17

>>33283050
Roll dem bones!
>>
Rolled 98

>>33283050
>>
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>>33283091
>>33283121
>>33283144
>Outcome: I blame the blood loss.
>>33283280
>Dat second wind tho


You hoist your mug into the air and begin with the customary chant “What’s a pirate live to do?”

“Drink and fight!” Comes the reply as all contestants clang their mugs together before chugging away. Five drinks in and you really start to feel it. Ten drinks in and the mess hall starts to dance.

“Had ‘nuff yet, shortstack?” You taunt the littlest Pylarian sitting across from you, swaying a little with the room.

“Worried you’s gonna lose ta sumwun a fifth yer weight, sausageroll?” The slight nodding of her head exaggerated by that horn of hers.

“Shut up both of you. Drink. I will watch you all tremble and fall like babies.” Lyka still seems unfazed, though she is technically three drinks behind the two of you.

You’re not sure how many drinks it’s been, but at some point Toshka moved on to Lyka’s challenge in between swigs of rum. “How…Hows ya do it, Capn? There’s jus…too much food.” She’s actually pouting at her haunch of pig. That’s adorable.

You slap your tail a few times before grabbing your mug again and taking a few hearty gulps, draining the thing. “I’m preddy much a preddy face attached to a big ol’ gut, you know. Now eat yer spines, those are the best part.”

“I’s gotta eat da spines, too?!”

Those puppy dog eyes she gives you are almost enough to make you let her off the hook. Almost.

You lost count so long ago. So very, very long ago. At some point Toshka ended up on your left, your arm draped around her neck and hers around yours, giddily singing drinking songs as the mugs of fallen contestants hang clink proudly upon her horn.

“You’s da bess, capn. Shimply da bess. We nevva coulda lived like dis on Gibs, dat fukkin neon shithole! Iffit wernt fer you, me an’ Rosco would still be gettin kicked around by dem fukkin corp’rate kings up in High Town.”
>>
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>>33284309
“I wouldn’t trade yer for any otha techie out in the whole void, Toshk. You’ll always haff a place in dis crew. You aint even short, jusht…fun sized. Just don’t fuck wiff my crab no more.” She laughs at that, nearly falling out of her seat. Thankfully, your arm stabilizes her. “An’ yous, Lyka. Don’t think I forgots about yous.” You turn to the Gatoran sitting on your right, your tail having wrapped around her in lieu of your wrapped arm, the tip of your tail rubbing the base of her ear. “Aint no greater cook out there.”

“Will you stop ear rubbing then?”

“No.” You return with what you think is a grin. It’s kinda hard to feel your face anymore.

“…good.” You can’t tell if she is red from the booze or what she just said. You’re pretty sure it isn’t the booze. You wave your mug lazily back and forth in what is meant to be a toast.

“To Toshka! To Lyka! And t’evry wunna you’s dirty, grog-soaked scalawags aboard The Sol Regret!”

A half coherent cheer stumbles through the crowd as you all tilt back your drinks one more time…

…You groggily awake to find yourself still in the mess hall, lights mercifully turned low. You, along with Toshka, Rosco, Padstow, and a whole slew of others are heaped in a corner, your head feeling like a mining ship has had its planetcracker aimed at your skull for a week straight. Mugs are strewn about carelessly and several pig carcasses appear to be picked clean.

“Get up, lazybones.” You look up to see Lyka carrying a tray of bizarre looking (and smelling) drinks. She pushes them at you and the others more insistently. “Drink. Is old hangover cure. Will get up and out of my mess hall in no time.”
>>
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“Who won?” Toshka asks, trying desperately to rub the sleep out of her eye as her mechanical one spastically whirs between its three scopes while her trophies from the night before still clang (much more loudly this time) upon her horn.

“No one. Tie between us three. Now drink and leave.”

You plug your nose and take the whole thing in one gulp. It tastes like eggs mixed with moldy cheese and soaked in depression. However, the thudding in your brain does cease almost instantly. It’s only with fresh eyes that you notice the dark circles under her eyes and how limply her pipe hangs from her lips. Had she even slept off any of the contest? You slither up to her and shake her hand.

“Good game, Lyka, now go get some rest.”

“No. Still more food to-”

“That’s an order, Chief Cook. The rest of the crew will manage with what you’ve already. You have earned yourself a nice sunny patch in the Green Room. If our Navigator objects, tell her it’s captain’s orders”

You see the tiniest glimmer of a smile tug at that eternal scowl of hers.

“Aye, Captain”

END OF THREAD FIVE
>>
>>33284353
Good thread, cap. Thanks for runnin'!
>>
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And with that, the thread is archived, hope you guys enjoyed.

Tonight made me realize how much I need a pastebin of relevant info, so expect to see that posted some time tomorrow, hopefully along with a little origin story for Cernu. I'm shooting for another thread by Thursday, but we all saw how well that worked out last time, so all I can say is keep an eye on the twitter.

Have a good one everyone who stuck through with me 'til the end as well as all you archive divers!
>>
>>33284445
See you next time!
>>
Rolled 82

>>33284353
thanks for the thread
>>
>>33284445
Thanks for running, capn
Very nice ending.



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