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/tg/ - Traditional Games


File: REDLINE QUEST.jpg (443 KB, 1500x938)
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“GO!”

The sound of rubber screeching, engines spinning up, and the overwhelming roar of the crowd fills your ears. The scent of sweat, smoke, and oil is thick in the air, clogging your nose. The dense smog, laying close to the ground and covering everything obscures your vision. You are locked off from the world, kept inside your metal chamber of death.

And yet, you’ve never experienced anything so clearly, never felt as powerful as you do right now.

Even as that single syllable leaves the judge’s mouth, your foot has slammed down on the accelerator, right hand going to shift out of neutral and into drive. Hundreds of foot-pounds of torque run through the drive-chain from the engine to the wheels, spinning madly against the ground in a race to catch it.

And when it does, when the wheels bite down, any pretense of fear fades away, and you’re left only with exhilaration.

You’re the second off the start, a tenth of a second behind, but it only takes a fiftieth to mean the difference between victory and defeat. You grit your teeth and keep your foot down on the accelerator, even as your entire body is forced back into the seat.

As the first second of the race passes, all the cars escape from the start and begin their own journey towards the end. Third place is about two tenths behind you, so you’re safe for now, assuming you can stay in one piece. For now, the frame rattles only with the satisfaction of being on the road again, wheels barely touching the ground at times, flying down the track.

You start to pull up alongside the first car, who’s Pilot looks on over at you and then back at the track, dismissing you completely. Even as the frame around you heats up, you feel rage that anyone could just throw you away so quickly. They think you can’t win?

Oh, you’ll show them.

(1/2)
>>
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>>41325000

Five seconds in, and you’ve covered two hundred metres. Only eight hundred left to go. Up ahead, the road is already clearing, people stepping to the side and watching the race with emotions running from curiosity, excitement, to anger and fist-shaking.

Four hundred metres ahead you can spot the river itself, where half the city dumps their waste. You’ll have to go across one of the many narrow bridges that criss-cross the water to get to the over side, where the end line waits, flags waiting and ready for the first to cross.

The first Pilot starts to pull ahead again, his exhaust pipes glowing red as he jets ahead even further. Your frame is handling it, but you haven’t gone past 200kph before. A quick glance confirms you’re at 230. Even as your jaw and skull rattle, you grip the wheel tighter and prepare yourself to win.

---

Welcome to Redline Quest, based upon the movie of the same name. Understand that it is not necessary to watch the movie (linked at the bottom), as I’ll be changing some lore to ensure I can create my own story, but it is still an excellent movie, and can give you an idea of where you want to end up.

Understand that this Quest will not be all about racing. The world of Redline is a huge place, and the backstory behind the race, with everything from the mafia to the politicians all maneuvering to get the most they can out of it. From socializing with the top brass of militaries looking to test out new equipment, to cutting deals with the darkest sects of society, you’ll be doing a lot of work before you ever get behind the wheel.

This is still a test run. If the thread goes well, I will continue Redline Quest, and run it every Sunday, with Best Dad Ever running Friday and Saturday.

Archive (for my other quests): suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=ArtemisQM
Twitter (for updates): https://twitter.com/artemisQM

That’s in the future, though. For now, that little bitch thinks he can win this race.

(2/3)
>>
>>41325034

>7 seconds, 408.1m, excited crowd
>Pedal to the metal, and show that bastard what you’re capable of
>See if you can bash that Pilot to the side and leave him in the dust
>Play it safe, and wait till the bridge. Then, you’ll reveal your true strength.

-Commentators-

"And they're off the line! Already we see Monsieur Havers with that great lead of his, though his closely followed!"

"Who's that new guy, anyway? I mean, look, he's pulling even with Havers right now!"

"Impressive! A newbie possibly ready to take the throne from Havers? Let's see how the Monsieur responds!"
>>
>>41325060
>Pedal to the metal, and show that bastard what you’re capable of
4fast4furious
>>
>>41325060
>See if you can bash that Pilot to the side and leave him in the dust
>>
>>41325034
Realize I hadn't linked the movie. http://animehaven.org/dubbed/redline
>>
>>41325141
>>41325123
Wait another five minutes for someone else to drop in.
>>
>>41325060
>>See if you can bash that Pilot to the side and leave him in the dust
Sup Arte, I am so excite
>>
>>41325353
Arte...

I feel like you're adding on that e just to mess with me. Aren't you, Robin anon?
>>
>>41325060
>Pedal to the metal, and show that bastard what you’re capable of

>>41325230
oh thanks, I've been meaning to watch it! now if only I wasn't at work atm
>>
>>41325383
Well how about the best fucking soundtrack ever? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=doEwWzMz99A
>>
>>41325404
I'l need to listen later, This computer has no SOUND!!!!!
>>
>>41325383
>>41325353
>>41325141
>>41325123
We still have a tie. Gonna sit tight just a bit longer...

>>41325421
You poor thing.
>>
>>41325427
Anyone interested in changing their votes? So we can get this going.
>>
>>41325230
>dubbed
pleb
>>
>>41325034
I ARRIVE TO SAVE THE DAY!
>Pedal to the metal, and show that bastard what you’re capable of
>>
>>41325493
Sure I'll switch >>41325383 to bash. g2g to back to work now but i'm looking forward to reading this!

>>41325575
or stay the same, what ever...
>>
>>41325367
Hmm no I just shorten most QMs name to four letters when I make my first post. Sorry not them, just an old fox with a problem being serious.
>>
File: Sonoshee.jpg (1.08 MB, 1619x737)
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>>41325611
All good.

More images.
>>
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>>41325060

Okay. You’re going to push this car harder than it’s ever been pushed before. You keep pressing the accelerator pedal down even further, right up against the floor of the frame. The engine screams louder and louder, hitting the highest gear and continuing onwards, surpassing ten thousand revolutions a minute without a stop. The dials in your frame are going crazy, everything redlining.

The other Pilot in first looks back, seeing you approaching him rapidly. He attempts to speed ahead himself, but you’re already by his side, and only pulling ahead. Without another choice, he pulls the wheel left, hitting you in the side.

His own vehicle keeps going, a few pieces of scrap falling off of it, but the same can’t be said for yours. The wheel housings are crushed, then quickly torn off as the wheels throw them away, the rubber still yearning to spin as fast as they can. The entire right side of the canopy is also thrown off, leaving you open to the elements. You grimace, and keep your foot on the accelerator, watching as the first Pilot finally hits the bridge.

You think. This is where it gets difficult. The bridges are far too narrow, the usual three lanes narrowed into just one with the many different stalls and houses littered on the sides, selling anything and everything. Either way, the only way you can get past the Pilot is if you somehow go over him...

Or completely avoid that bridge in the first place. Plans start to formulate in your mind, and in your desperation, you seize onto...

>Following the Pilot from close behind, ready to cut around as soon as the bridge ends.
>Taking the on-ramp to the inter-continental highway. Of course, you’ll be making a detour. Off the edge. Perfectly safe.
>You’ve still got that Capsule in your pocket. Sure, your frame isn’t rated for it, but what’s a life anyway?
>>
>>41325821

-Commentators-

"Wow! Look at this! The newbie's side by side with Monsieur Havers!"

"Havers ain't having none of that though- WOAH! Check that slam!"

"This kid has skill! The entire right side of his vehicle's a goner, and yet he's still going!"

"Havers is still ahead in this race, but I think the kid's got a plan. Let's see what he does."
>>
>>41325821
>>Taking the on-ramp to the inter-continental highway. Of course, you’ll be making a detour. Off the edge. Perfectly safe.
>>
>>41325821
>Taking the on-ramp to the inter-continental highway. Of course, you’ll be making a detour. Off the edge. Perfectly safe.
>>
>>41325821
>Taking the on-ramp to the inter-continental highway. Of course, you’ll be making a detour. Off the edge. Perfectly safe.
Sure.
>>
>>41325932
>>41325919
>>41325847

Here's how dice rolls and chance work in Redline Quest. You will have three points which you can choose to crit-succeed These points will not be re-filled, ever. The only fate points you'll have.

You also have a set of ten +10s. These can be refilled, depending on how well you do and how confident of a racer you are.

Please roll 1d100.
>>
Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>41326074
>>
>>41326074
>>41326096
Pardon. It'll also be best of three, unless otherwise specified.
>>
Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>41326074
well if nobody else is gonna roll this nat one
>>
I mean, we can go with that roll, but don't you want to try some others? Doesn't hurt.
>>
>>41326279
Not close enough.

Gonna write in three if there ain't another.
>>
>>41325060
>See if you can bash that Pilot to the side and leave him in the dust
>>
>>41326351
Agh, a bit late mate :P.

Writing for 78! It's a Success!
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>41326074
>>
>>41326074

Damn it. You aren’t going to let that bastard win. You turn the wheel to the left, aiming towards the on-ramp and accelerating even further, quickly reaching three hundred kilometres an hour, a point where you might as well write the speed in metres a second.

You can see the Pilot racing along the bridge, already a quarter of the way across. You’re catching up, but he’ll win...

Unless you do this. You turn the wheel again, aiming off the on ramp...and instead towards the river. Your frame responds, wheels skidding slightly at the sudden turn, the entire vehicle angling up on two wheels as it makes the turn.

With that, the small walls on the edge of the on ramp, only meant to prevent the computer-driven cars from fallen off, acts only as another aid for your stunt, the angle sending your car up, and flying.

You’re floating in the air. The frame around you twists and turns at a touch, but only to yours. The wheels try to catch ground, but there’s nothing but wind up here in the sky. Below you, you can spot the other Pilot, looking around to try find you. When he finally looks up, and pulls up his faceplate to watch in disbelief, you wave down to him.

And you finally reach your apex, and the frame starts heading back down to the ground again. You try to turn the vehicle to hit the slanted steel roofs of the stalls, and when your wheels finally hit the ground again, they catch quickly and you start rallying down the roofs, until you finally reach the ground again.

Just behind to your right is the Pilot, who’s now focusing intensely on coaxing every last drop of energy out of his own car.

>See how he likes it when he’s bumped.
>Ignore him, and focus on the goal up ahead
>Now’s the time to pop a Capsule!

-Commentators-

"He's flying, Qurrus. He's flying."

"God damn, this kid has some real skills. Think we'll see him at Redline?"

"Maybe. He's got work to do, for sure. But...yeah. Maybe."
>>
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>>41326358
I know, I'm currently at work and didn't update the thread.
>>
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>>41326589
Please, try to keep the images relevant. Or I'll be forced to respond in kind.
>>
>>41326537
>Ignore him, and focus on the goal up ahead
>>
>>41326537
>Ignore him, and focus on the goal up ahead
>>
>>41326658
>>41326643
Writing for this, then!
>>
You ignore him. It’s your time to shine. You’ve got to win this race.

One hundred metres left. Thirteen seconds past. Some eighty metres a second.

Breathe.

This is what racing is meant to be. That final moment, with only one second between you and victory, with only one slip up needed to find defeat. All it takes is letting up on the accelerator, relaxing, and being satisfied.

You’ll never be satisfied. You’ll never be satisfied until you’re looking down on the world, from your position far above on the finish line. You’ll never be satisfied until it’s all yours.

You push further down on the accelerator. The other Pilot attempts to do the same, and slowly edges up, his front radiator only a centimetre behind yours.

It’s a centimetre too short.

You pass the finish line.

---

”Wow! Unbelievable! Our local racing champ, Monsieur Havers, finally got beaten at his own game!”

“That’s right Qurrus! Whoever this Pilot is, they’ve done damn well, and make no mistake! He isn’t gonna stop here!”

“Look, he’s getting out of his car now! Let’s head on over, folks.”

---

Fresh air. The smog’s died down a bit, only swelling around your ankles, and you take a great gulp, realizing that for the past fifteen seconds you hadn’t taken one yet.

The fresh air doesn’t last too long, as plenty of people gather around you, trying to shake your hand or touch you or get your attention. Somebody shoves a trophy into your hand, and soon the rabble are replaced by the journalists.

“Pilot! Who are you?”

“When did you start racing?”

“Did you come here expecting to win? Or is it just a fluke?”

“Are you going to stop here, or go on?”

The last question gets your attention, and you grab the microphone held out by that journalist. You look around for a few seconds, watching the people quieten, waiting to hear your words.

You take another breath. “This is just the first step. I’m going to the-”

“STOP RIGHT THERE!”

(1/2)

Couldn't find a good image.
>>
>>41327146


The crowds split before the new presence. You cower, already knowing what’s happening. “Oh, shit.”

The being slowly strides through the parted space offered by the rabble, approaching you. Each step it takes is a slam, as if it’s less like walking and more like intimidating the ground into retreating. Finally, it stands before you.

“WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?”

You sigh. The jig’s up. “Sorry, mom.”

---

A sigh rings out, bouncing off all the pots and pans hanging around the kitchen.


”Honestly!”

Another sigh, this one even louder.

“The nerve!”

She turns on you again, arms crossed before her. Your Mom is a rather imposing figure. Sure, she’s only four feet tall, with her skin being a ruddy brown color, and years of wielding rolling pins as both weapons and actual rolling pins makes her far more muscled than would be considered attractive.

But the presence she gives off, a sense of no yielding, no quarter given, is enough to intimidate men twice her size and four times her weight, and it’s enough to deal with the idiots who’re too stupid to be intimidated.

And right now, that’s directed at you.

“So? What do you have to say for yourself?”

You twiddle your thumbs. “Sorry,” you mumble.

“Come on, you have to try harder than that!”

>Sorry. It won’t happen again.
>Sorry, but you know I love racing!
>I want to race, mom! Why can’t you let me race?
>>
>>41327164
>I want to race, mom! Why can’t you let me race?
Fuck da polees
>>
>>41327164
>I want to race, mom! Why can’t you let me race?
>>
>>41327235
>>41327277
Writing for this then.
>>
>>41327378
I'm a little confused, was that an imagination sequence? Or did that really happen.
>>
>>41327616

All of that happened.
>>
>>41327164

You complain, “But mom! I want to race! What’s wrong with that?”

Mom facepalms, trying to hold back her anger. “You know why. Your father was a racer. Look where that got him.”

You shrug. “I guess. But I’m better than him! I mean, I just won the local Shift! That means I have entry into the National Shift! From there, it’s the World Run, and then the Yellowline, and the-”

“No. I’ve said no, and I’ll keep saying no.” she sighs, seeing your look of disappointment. A bit more kindly, she says, “come on, you’re a good kid, with a real future ahead of you. You don’t need to keep working on in this restaurant. You can go on to school, get your own company, and still have a great life. Racing puts too much on the line. Your money, your life, your family...it’s too much, kid. And I’m speaking from experience here. It’s not worth it.”

You frown. “It’s hardly living if you don’t do what you want.”

She smiles, and brushes a bit of hair out of your face. “Cheer up. Listen, I know that you enjoy racing. I’m not going to stop you from that. But...please, don’t race yourself.” she grins. “At the least, keep it under a hundred and fifty kilometres an hour.”

You grin. “I hit three hundred, mom.”

“I saw. And I was very proud of you, along with being scared for your life. Now come on, go get clean and come back down to help me with the dinner rush.”

You smile and give her one last hug, and head on upstairs, thinking about the conversation.

Your mom used to be a groupie of your father’s, one of the best racers in the world, a two-time winner of the World Cup. He even qualified for the Yellowline, at one point, though he had decided to drop it to instead pursue your Mom.

Of course, he couldn’t give it up completely, and a year into the marriage he decided to go for the World Cup again. Unfortunately, he had lost his touch, enough to mis-estimate how fast he’d need to go off a ramp.

(1/2)
>>
>>41327683


As you enter the room, you look towards the far wall where a bunch of pictures of him are hanging up, from the early days of barely making the top twenty, to the glory days with pictures of him and his two World Cups, a bunch of girls all splayed around him, and that final picture of him on that final jump.

You look at it for a bit. He looks relaxed, having already realized that he had made a mistake. He was simply smiling at the camera, waving, as if to say, “It was a good run. Thanks for all your support.”

Your mother hates that photo, but to you it shows the kind of person he is. Even at the very end, he still loved racing, and didn’t regret a thing.

You progress on to the bathroom (only one, that you and your mother share). You turn on the shower, waiting a bit for it to warm up. As it does, you admire yourself in the mirror, dressed in your racing leathers, semi-permanent streaks of oil running across it. You take a bit of water from the sink and wash your face off, removing most of the dirt on it, revealing

>What do you look like? Who are you, anyway?
>>
>>41327711
You guys just want to have a choice between premade options, then? Since you don't seem to want to make up your person.
>>
>>41327822
Go ahead, plenty quests have been killed by the GM asking for an appearance from the players.
>>
>>41327880
Surio! Let me write up your person.
>>
>>41327822
GO for it.
>>
>>41327711
Um, I hate to say it Artemis, It this your MC and you should make the call of what he looks like.
>>
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>>41327983
No problem.

>>41327711

You’re a bit lanky, much more like your father than your mother, though you have the same always-dirty skin color that she has, along with the matted brown hair. Your eyes are also from your dad, a very deep blue, almost like looking into a tropical sea (if you can find one that isn’t polluted).

You don’t really seem all that special, until you put on your racing leathers. Then, you seem different. You don’t just race because it’s fun. Whenever you race, you become someone else. Someone cooler, stronger. You’re certainly not fat, but you look a hell of a lot more fit when you’re ready to race. That’s you.

You wipe off a bit more oil from the suit, revealing the stylized calligraphy where your name was printed on the left breast: Mikoto. Apparently from your mom’s side, way back when humans hadn’t reached the stars. She said she liked the name. Your dad had laughed and agreed, saying that the names Cylinder or Axle probably weren’t the best.

Soon enough, you’re all clean and dressed into your serving uniform, being just an apron thrown over a black shirt and jeans. Taking a tray off your mom, you take it over to a table, and start serving. It’s nice, for the first fifteen minutes, relaxing after that especially tense race. A few people who recognize you congratulate you on it, but most are here to get their fill and head on home.

“Two beef curries, one chicken noodle,” you declare, setting down the bowls on the new table.”

“Oh, hey Mikoto! Man, how you doing?” You pause as you realize that you’re serving a few of your friends from school. Not just that, but one of them is Rench, the guy who had helped you get the parts and put together your car for the contest.

>Man, your work was excellent. The thing held up to three hundred!
>Man, your work isn’t good enough. Didn’t even touch four hundred!
>Hey, Rench, hey guys. How are ya?
>>
>>41328109
>>Hey, Rench, hey guys. How are ya?
>>
>>41328109
>Hey, Rench, hey guys. How are ya?
>>
>>41328109
>Man, your work was excellent. The thing held up to three hundred!
>>
>>41328109
>Hey, Rench, hey guys. How are ya?
>>
>>41325367
Art, I'm offended.
I would never do that.

Also, nice to see you, I missed yesterday's thread, and that made me sad
>>
>>41328228
Did you find the archive okay?

>>41328217
>>41328162
>>41328144
Writing.
>>
>>41328109
>Hey, Rench, hey guys. How are ya?
>Add
I hit 300 hundred with it, think it could handle 400?
>>
>>41328277
Best dad is archived. This thread isn't yet.
>>
>>41328319
Correct.
>>
>>41328109

You grin at seeing your friend. “Ah, hey Rench! How ya doing, man?”


He smiles back at you and takes one of the bowls of curry. “Fantastic. I just saw one of my cars get first place in the Shift. I think I’ll have no problems getting that job at the custom build place I was talking to you about.”

“That’s great, man. I’m surprised how well it held up, to be honest. Even at three hundred it wasn’t rattling more than it would at two fifty. Hey, think I could pull four hundred?”

Rench thinks about it, tapping his chin. “Maybe. But I think I’d be more worried about that,” he points to the kitchen, “than the car itself.”

You turn to find Mom watching you with an entirely unamused voice. You turn to Rench and others, bowing your way out. “Anyway, I’ll see you guys around.”

“Actually,” Rench tosses you a card, which you catch on the tray, “there’s gonna be a little unofficial celebration for you. Come along. There’s gonna be some big folks there, I hear.”

You nod, and turn back to the kitchen. Mom’s waiting for you, watching you over her steepled fingers. “So what did you just get from Rench?”

>Nunnayabeesnees
>Huh? Me? Oh, nothing.
>Unofficial party for me.
>>
>>41328109
>Man, your work was excellent. The thing held up to three hundred!
>>
>>41328453
>Huh? Me? Oh, nothing.
>>
>>41328453
>>Nunnayabeesnees
>>
There are fourteen of us here. Can we get more than two votes, please?
>>
>>41328453
>Huh? Me? Oh, nothing.
>>
>>41328453
>Unofficial party for me.

It's our mother, honesty is probably the best policy right now.
>>
>>41328453
>Unofficial party for me.
Local celeb now
>>
>>41328277
I got in about 1-2 hours after it ended, so I got to read it.
>>
>>41328453
>some of the guys are throwing a party, and I'm invited.
>>
>>41328842
>>41328759
>>41328625
Writing for this then.
>>
>>41328453

You grin and wave the invitation at her. “I got an invitation to a party!”

Mom shakes her head, sighing. “Honestly. Are you going to race?”

You recoil in mock horror. “Race? Me? After you explicitly told me not to? How could you be so untrusting, Mom?”

She smiles. “Well, if you’re not going to race, I see no problem in it.”

You give her a quick hug, saying thanks, before delivering the next tray of food to customers.

---

It’s about five hours later that you finally get off shift, and you shrug back into your racing leathers (now all clean), and you wait outside the restaurant. Soon enough, a long limo-style car pulls up, the window rolling down to reveal Rench in the driver’s seat. “Hop in, Mikoto.”

You do so, sitting in the far back, rubbing your hand over the upholstery. “Damn, Rench, this is some good material. How’d you get it?”

Rench laughs. “Some company wanted me to upgrade their business vehicles with defense equipment so they don’t have to worry about extremely hostile takeovers. It comes with a deal that I have to drive each vehicle for a few hours to ensure that they’re ready to carry high-value personnel. I figured, why not tow around some real high-value personnel, and see how it lasts?”

You chuckle. “Bullshit. You just want to drive the car.”

“Oh yeah. The thing’s got molecular-bond breaks. Can stop and turn on a dime in this thing. The speeds not bad, either. When I’m done with it, I wouldn’t be suprised to see it easily push two hundred.”

“Not as good as your own cars, though.”

“Oh, of course not. About that, by the way. I got the frame back (thanks for destroying the right side, by the way) and I realized something. You know you wanted four hundred? Hell, with these latest improvements, you could reach five hundred-”

(1/2)
>>
>>41329150

“Hold it right there,” you raise your hand, “that’s gonna be a no, man.”

Rench looks back at you in disbelief. “Mikoto? Saying no to absurd amounts of speed? What’s gotten into you, man?”

You sigh. “My mom doesn’t want me competing in the high speed races any more.”

Rench shakes his head, looking back to the road. “Come on man, you can’t let her tell you what to do. I mean, you’re only a year away from becoming an Independent, and then you can do whatever you want!”

>No no no, Rench. I can’t do it anymore, and that’s final.
>That’s still a year away. For now, I want to keep that promise.
>You know what, you’re right. Say, are there gonna be any races tonight?
>>
>>41329166
>That’s still a year away. For now, I want to keep that promise.
>>
>>41329166
>That’s still a year away. For now, I want to keep that promise.
>>
>>41329166
>>That’s still a year away. For now, I want to keep that promise.
>>
>You know what, you’re right. Say, are there gonna be any races tonight?
>>
>>41329166
>That’s still a year away. For now, I want to keep that promise.
>>
>>41329244
>>41329215
>>41329186
>>41329175
Writing.
>>
>>41329166
>That’s still a year away. For now, I want to keep that promise.
>Add
I still need to train myself some more before I face the big league.
>>
>>41329166

You look out the window, watching as the various shacks and stalls of the city start closing down for the night, the lights slowly going off one by one. “I guess,” you admit. “But that’s still a year away. I want to keep that promise for now. And besides, I’ve got to do a lot more training before I’m anywhere near ready for the big leagues.”

“I guess. Listen, if you can’t race, can you at least drive? I’m sure that I can find some spaces for you to practice, without getting killed.”

“That...might actually work.”

Rench grins back at you. “There we go. Let’s see how well you can handle five hundred, eh?”

---

Not too soon after, you finally arrive at the party.

In a way, you feel like you’ve been lied to. This isn’t some unofficial party. This is the mansion where Digger, the three-time World-Cup champion, lives. How on earth is the party being held here?

The second thought occurs as Rench opens the door for you and helps you out, onto a long carpet leading directly to the door. You see plenty of people standing behind the railguards, shouting and screaming upon seeing you.

You’re the guest of honor.

Rench hands off the keys to one of his mechanic buddies (he must have been hiding in the trunk or something) and starts to lead you to the door, keeping off any flow of people from grabbing you. You walk behind him, basking in the sense of people clamoring so much for your attention. This must be what your father had felt like, up until he had met mom.

You see a few people lined up along the edges, holding out pictures or blank pieces of paper or even body parts for you to sign. Others are taking as many pictures as they can, trying to get a good one of the local Shift winner.

>Sign some stuff!
>Pose for photos!
>Get in a photo with one of the fans!
>Walk on, all calm and cool.
>>
>>41329447
>Sign some stuff!
>Pose for photos!
>Get in a photo with one of the fans!
>>
>>41329447
>Get in a photo with one of the fans!
>>
>>41329447
>>Pose for photos!
>>Get in a photo with one of the fans!
Yes people I'm awesome
>>
>Get in a photo with one of the fans!
>>
>>41329580
>>41329569
>>41329551
>>41329510
General Idea get
>>
>>41329447
>Sign some stuff!
>Pose for photos!
>Get in a photo with one of the fans!
>Walk on, all calm and cool.

ALL THE ABOVE! We're the rock stars baby! put on some shades!
>>
>>41329590
You work fast pace there Art, I didn't get time to post before you did.
>>
>>41329638
With this quest, you have to go fast. This quest is just one huge set up for a horrible sanic joke
>>
>>41329447

Rench, seeing you go to meet the fans, sighs, and hands over some pen to you. With that, you begin to sign things, ranging the gamut from little figurines of you to pictures to their arms or forehead (or breasts, there were more than enough of those). By the end of it, your hand is slightly cramped, but people seem pretty damn satisfied with your service.

>The People like you! It’s easier to get favors now, and you’ll get treated better in the future!

Finally, you make it inside the building, Rench wiping away some sweat as he closes the front door. “God, I never knew how hard it would be to be a celebrity.”

There’s some laughter, and a man appears in front of you. Somehow, just with his mere presence, he seems to glow (and you’re not sure whether it’s from his Illumis heritage, or just how gob-smackingly amazing he is). He grins as he sees you.

“Ah, it’s Mikoto, the local winner! Nice to meet you, I’m Digger, though you can call me Digs.” He offers his hand to shake.

>Bow before him. “I am not worthy”
>Shake his hand and smile. “A pleasure.”
>Ignore it. “Nice place you got here.”
>>
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>>41329685
And the red wheel he likes to sit on.
Shame he lost his legs in korietnam.
>>
>>41329742
>>Shake his hand and smile. “A pleasure.”
he is secretly a huge dick isn't he.
>>
>>41329742
>Shake his hand and smile. “A pleasure.”
>>
>>41329779
It's nothing personnel.
>>
>>41329794
No, but he secretly has a huge dick.

>>41329811
...kid
>>
>>41329742
>Shake his hand and smile. “A pleasure.”
>>
>Shake his hand and smile. “A pleasure.”
>>
>>41329856
>>41329840
>>41329805
>>41329794
Writing.
>>
>>41329742

You shake his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Digs.”

He laughs. “A pleasure? I wish! Come on, treat me like a human being. You’re one too, after all.”

You chuckle. “Not sure the crowd out there would agree with that.”

“Ha! Probably not. But in here, the racers can relax and take off their leathers. Surprised you’re wearing yours, actually.”

You shrug, “It’s really comfortable, and I look good in it. Why not?”

Digs nods. “Fair enough. Come on, we got some people inside who are dying to meet ya.”

You follow Digs onwards, Rench staying close behind, into a wide open lounge, with a bunch of people mingling and eating food off little dishes held by some servants. Every single person, apart from the waiters, look incredibly out of place. When Digs re-enters, they all perk up, even more so when you enter. You’re immediately flooded by a bunch of other racers, many of whom that you’ve seen on TV at some point, all slapping your back and congratulating you.

Finally, you make it to the couch where Digs is sitting, along with some others that you recognize from the other local Shifts (you keep a screen in the restaurant on the racing channel). They all nod as you join them, and continue their discussion.

“Listen, I just think weapons are boring. I mean, they’re fun, but that’s not the point of the race!” argues one of them. You recognize him as Dumpling, a rather heavy guy who actually builds his own cars.

A girl laughs. You recognize her as Arachnia, who encases herself inside large spider-like vehicles with little wheels on the end of the legs, along with a silk-gun to tangle up other racers. “Really? Not the point of the race? I think Yellowline would like to have a world with you. Redline would just punt you across the room. Weapons are a huge part of racing today, and only idiots don’t use them.”

“What do you think, Mikoto?” you realize they’ve all turned on you, now.

(1/2)
>>
>>41330072


>Weapons are a bit annoying.
>They’re okay, but it’s much better to just focus on speed.
>Hell yes. Weapons are a must for any racer.
>My car is just one huge bullet.
>>
>>41330088
>Weapons are a bit annoying.
Call me a purist, but I like just to race, not use them.
>>
>>41330088
>They’re okay, but it’s much better to just focus on speed.
>>
>>41330088
I like guns. The old skool ones, with chemical propellant. But I don't think they're the key to winning.
>>
>>41330088
>My car is just one huge bullet.
>>
>My car is just one huge bullet.
>>
>>41330088
>They’re okay, but it’s much better to just focus on speed.
>>
>>41330088
>They’re okay, but it’s much better to just focus on speed.
>>
>>41330149
Going with this.

>I've always been a fan of the autocannons in the headlights, but no huge loadouts.
>>
>>41330237
>>41330212
>>41330208
>>41330149
>>41330147
These are all kinda similar.
>>
>>41330088

You think about it for a second. “I mean, I’ve always been a fan of those autocannons hidden into the front grill and headlights. Can’t hate the classics. But those super huge loadouts which are more weapon than car? They’re useless. Because yeah, this is a race in the end, not a war. Just shooting up all the competition is never fun.”

Dumpling nods. “Exactly. I can understand keeping a handgun, maybe, to pop tires. No one needs armor-piercing weapons.”

Arachnia shakes her head. “Unless, you know, Redline. But I guess you guys aren’t ever going, so you don’t need to worry about that.

>U wot m8? I’ll bash ur fukin hed in
>Implying you’re better.
>That’s not nice, Arachnia.
>>
>>41330381
>Ah putting on airs Arachnia? Spiders aren't that fast.
>>
>>41330381
>U wot m8? I’ll bash ur fukin hed in
>Swear one me mum.
>>
>>41330381
>That’s not nice, Arachnia.
>Implying you’re better.

Little girls shouldn't lie...
>>
>That’s not nice, Arachnia.
Say that after you beat me in a race.
>>
>>41330532
>>41330458
>>41330418
Something like this then.
>>
>>41330381
>>That’s not nice, Arachnia.
>Implying you’re better.
Prove me wrong Protip: You can't
>>
>>41330381

You frown. “That’s not nice, Arachnia. Especially considering that currently none of us have been even close to the Yellowline, let alone Redline.”

Arachnia shakes her head, a smug smile on her face. “I’ve been in this longer than you, Mikoto. I know what I’m doing.”

Dumpling grins. “I seem to recall that you lost your first seven races, Arachnia. Mikoto won his on the first try.”

Arachnia pouts. “So? He was lucky.”

You chuckle. “Luck doesn’t go so far as to send me flying across two hundred metres of water to put me in first place. I’d say that you’re exaggerating your own abilities a bit.”

Arachnia glares at you. “You think you’re better than me?”

You raise your hands. “Never said that. I said, I think you’re exaggerating your own abilities a bit. That’s all.”

Arachnia continues to glare. “You want to race, boy?”

You shake your head. “Nope. I don’t need to prove myself. Besides,” you grin, “I’m not allowed to go above two-fifty right now. I can’t imagine the blow to your ego if you still lost.”

Arachnia controls herself for a few seconds, before standing. “Fine then. You want to play that way?” she stands, and turns to the rest of the room. “Hey! Everyone! Mikoto here-”

>Stop her
>Call mom, say you’re definitely not racing
>Call mom, ask permission to show this bitch what’s up.
>Pull on your gloves. IT’S TIME TO CRUSH HOPES AND DREAMS.
>>
>>41330723
>>Call mom, ask permission to show this bitch what’s up.
Mom, just wanted to call and say you're beautiful and that I'm getting called out, be back soon after I BTFO their car
>>
>>41330723
>Call mom, ask permission to show this bitch what’s up.
>ADD
I win, you go out on a date with me Arachnia!
>>
>>41330797
Seconded
>>
>Stop her
We're not racing tonight, but let's make this official. In the next (upcoming race), if you beat me, I give up racing.
>>
>>41330723
>Call mom, ask permission to show this bitch what’s up.
>>
>>41330890
>>41330797
>>41330794
So, this then.

>>41330797
>>41330849
Okay.

That second part.

Y'all know my rules about this, right? No forced relationships.

I'll allow it, since this is Redline Quest, but do it right, okay? Don't be fuckwits.
>>
>>41330964
Make it a drag race so she doesn't have to worry too much.

Also, wait until our car is, ya know, not half missing.
>>
>>41330964
Eh, I thought along the lines of "Insult to injury" and "playful bet"
>>
>>41331131
No, I can see that.

>>41331033
Rench has it set up. He works quickly.
>>
>>41331148
Cool, just making sure that there wasn't miscommunication.

>>41330849
P.S. I'm that anon
>>
>>41331148
I don't find this forced. Besides, it's something in common between the two. MC's mom might take a shine to her... might. That or set her up to be embarrass both her and the MC as moms are want to do.
>>
>>41331289
MC's Mom has a very definite reaction to it. You'll love it.
>>
>>41331300
Btw, does anyone have some good concept art of futuristic cars? Would love to have it.
>>
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>>41331390
I want to see this in a race.
Complete with james bonde spy car shit.
>>
>>41331390
Sad to say you need to retro now. All the 'futuristic' are likely to be driver less junk cars. Thanks a lot tech companies! /s
>>
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>>41331390
This'd be pretty cool in yellow or redline.
>>
>>41331645
I can see it in yellowline, but it doesn't have the pure power of one of the redline cars.
>>
>>41330723

You pull out your phone, keeping your eyes on Arachnia, and dial your mother.

“Hello?”

“Hi mom. So there’s this girl...”

Silence.

“ARE YOU ON A DATE?” Mom shouts excitedly, making you flinch away from the phone. “Oh god, do you have condoms in your wallet? Do you need money on your card? Christ, Mikoto’s finally got a girl!”

You chuckle, returning the phone to the side of your head. “Uh...she challenged me to a race.”

Silence.

“Fucking hell Mikoto, the first time you ever talk to a fucking girl and IT’S ABOUT CARS?” rage rolls off your mother’s tongue.

“Hey now, that’s unfair. And anyway, I have a plan, Mom. I just...I would like permission to race. I can make it a drag race, so I can’t get injured, and you know I’m too good to fuck up on my own.”

“So what’s the plan?”

You look to Arachnia, who’s still preaching about the race between you two. “When I win, she goes on a date with me.”

More silence. “Is she pretty?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

You can hear the weight of the sigh. “Fine, then. Anything to get your mind on some healthy teenager thing, like sex. Go for it, Mikoto.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

You end the call, and look to Rench, who’s waiting for you. You nod, and he hops off, to get you a car or something.

Arachnia turns away from the crowd (it seems some of the fans leaked in from outside) and smirks. “Well? Ready to get your ass kicked?”

You grin right back. “First, I need to set some conditions,” and you step past her, up onto the chair.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! I, Mikoto, shall now challenge Arachnia to a race! Since she thinks she’s so fast, we’ll be having a drag race. There will also be a prize, for the victor! Whoever wins, gets to take the other on a date!”

(1/2)
>>
>>41331757

The crowd roars their approval, and Arachnia jerks you back down, glaring at you. “Sorry, a date? Did I say anything about a date?”

You grin at her. “You were busy riling them up. I’d figure I’d give them what they want.”

“Listen you little-” she’s cut off my Digs standing up from where he’s been spectating the entire ordeal. The crowd goes quiet, waiting for his words.

He just smiles at the both of you. “Let’s get you lovebirds on the track, shall we?”

---

”Holy shit.”

You’re staring in disbelief at your car. Somehow, in the mere six or seven hours since the end of the Shift, Rench has managed to completely rebuild your car. More than that, he’s improved it.

He runs a hand along the frame. “Unfortunately, couldn’t get the cover on top, but this is only a drag race so shouldn’t be a problem. Either way, you got some molecular-bond breaks in there (not that you’ll need them), and I got some proper hydraulics for the power steering, so you shouldn’t flip out at two hundred plus. The real beauty, though,” he gestures to the engine, “is the Morosa Twelve Cylinder I got here.”

You start to salivate. Morosa is a hell of a brand, especially for new Pilots. It doesn’t have anything on a Sorus, or a Laventi, but the sheer amount of torque that a Morosa puts out beats nearly all other engines on the market. For a drag race, there’s none better. The fact that he’d manage to get it for a mere Shift racer...

“Man, I’m in your debt forever and ever,” you whisper, walking up to run your hand along the engine. “How? How did you get this?”

Rench grins. “Some folks really liked your style. They figured that if you’re gonna be airborne like that in other races, you might as well be prepared.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Prepared is right...hell, I don’t even need wheels with this thing.”

“Well,” Rench locks down a few bolts on the engine, “it looks like it’s your time to shine. Show them who’s boss, eh?”

(2/3_
>>
>>41331789

You nod, and hop inside the car, hitting the ignition. Unlike the uneven and sharp whine of your past engine, the Morosa growls and quickly spins up to its idle speed

Of fourty kilometres an hour.

After hitting the breaks and almost destroying your nose (that’s right, molecular breaks), you slowly approach the start line, where you can see Arachnia is already waiting.

She notices the change in your components. “Hey, nice engine. Not gonna be enough to defeat me, though.”

You grin at her. “Your roller-skating spider-thing ain’t gonna beat this car, Arachnia. I’ll see you at the finish line.”

“See you at the finish line.” and with that, both of you enter your cockpits, preparing.

“ON YOUR MARKS!”

You check the engine, making sure it’s ready to go.

“GET SET!”

You set your right foot on the accelerator, your left slowly backing off the breaks.

“GO!”

>Go fast
>Go really fast
>NOT LUDICROUS SPEED!
>We're going plaid!

As a note, each choice has different DCs. Not gonna tell you them now, of course.
>>
Rolled 12 (1d100)

>NOT LUDICROUS SPEED!
>>
>>41331819
>We're going plaid!
>>
>Rench
Oh.
I just got that.
>>
>>41331819
do you want rolls now or once a majority choice has been reached?
>>
>>41331819
>We're going plaid!
>>
>>41331819
>We're going plaid!
>>
>>41331989
Hehe.

>>41331999
Once majority has been reached. But consensus seems to be plaid.
>>
>>41332033
In which case, please roll 1d100.

Reminder you have three fate points for instant wins.

Reminder that you have ten +10s.
>>
Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>41332052
>>
>>41331819
>We're going plaid!
What was that about a drag race being safe?
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>41332052
see ya
>>
>>41332052
ROLLAN!
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>41332052
Luck be a lady.
>>
Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>41332079
dammit forgot the 1 before the d100.
>>
>>41332111
Luck is a cunt.

Shall we use a +10 for 94?
>>
>>41332144
If you do, you have to say it now.
>>
>>41332071
>>41332052
>>41332144
Yes, Lets got for the score and use one of the +10 on my roll
>>
>>41332175
Go for the +10
>>
>>41332238
>>41332183
Sure. The DC was 85.

Writing for plaid.
>>
>>41332175
add one +10
>>
File: 99problems.gif (1.47 MB, 347x195)
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>>41332270
YES! GOOD thing we used it to make the DC.
>>
>>41332270
WOOOOOOO
Glad I said the thing.
>>
Even as the words hit your ears, your foot has left the break, and both are redirected to the accelerator.

And you push it all the way down, to the bottom of the car.

The first sensation you get that you’re moving is when the engine starts to growl. Not just a noise, it’s a feeling, running through the entire car, turning the frame into a tuning fork, and you into an instrument, channeling that pure power right through you. And it’s glorious.

By the point your foot is a quarter of the way to the ground, you’re off. Even as Arachnia’s frame starts to move, literally jumping off the starting line, you’re already ahead and only speeding up. The Morosa speeds up more and more, igniting fuel with a need, a primal hunger to go as fast as absolutely possible.

By the time your foot is half way to the floor, you realize that you’re already a quarter of the way along the track, and your foot is still moving.

Even as Arachnia attempts to catch up, you keep pulling ahead, almost as if her frame was at a complete standstill. With your car as low to the ground as it is, with the large wheels absorbing all the shock, there’s no way you can tell you’re moving quickly apart from your guts trying to rip their way out your back.

By time time your foot is three quarters of the way there, you can barely see, red and black edging in around your vision. You can barely make out the dials reading 390 kilometres an hour, and ticking higher every second.

Your foot finally touches the ground, and the Morosa complies happily, reaching its final form, every single cylinder firing, the RPM dial reading over twenty thousand revolutions every minute.

And with that, you cross the finish line. The magnetic grips laid into the track seize onto your frame, gently bringing it to a full stop.

(1/2)
>>
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>>41332942

You take a second to figure out how to breathe again, trying to ignore the painful sensation pushing down on your ribs. After a second, your diaphragm figures out how to work, and you pull in a much needed breath, almost choking on it.

Taking your time, you crawl out the car, trying not to hurt yourself much more. As you do, you can spot Arachnia’s own car just crossing the finish line, the long spider-legs of her frame trembling at the high speeds.

She pulls up along side you, slowly descending until she can hop out the cockpit, stumbling a bit as she does.

You take some time to watch each other, both of you breathing heavily.

“Wow,” she starts.

“Wow,” you agree.

And with that, the crowds move in cheering. You’re picked up, and guided back to the mansion, leaving behind Arachnia. You allow yourself to relax, knowing Rench should take care of it all.

But for now...you put your arms behind your head, and enjoy the ride.

---

”That was impressive, Mikoto,” Digs observes, handing you a glass of some sparkling gold-hued liquid. “This should help with the speed pangs.”

You accept it readily, taking a few sips. It tastes a lot like champagne, with a strong hint of apple as well. Delicious.

You’ve managed to get away from the crowds for now, up in Digs private lounge. A few other racers are there as well, some of which applaud your Shift, and the race with Arachnia, before turning back to their own conversation.

“Thanks, Digs. Means a lot.”

“Hmm. No problem.” He keeps watching the crowds below, the sound-proofed glass cutting out the cheering and raving ecstasy of the horde below. “So, Mikoto.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re going to National Shift, right?”

You hesitate. “I...want to.”

“Want to?”

You sigh. “My mom’s a bit scared for me, to be honest. She only let me pull that race with Arachnia because I would get a date out of it. Says I don’t talk to girls enough.”

(2/3)

Ugh, forgot image
>>
>>41332990

Digs laughs. “I had a similar experience. They said I was moto-sexual, that if I could love a girl like I loved my cars, I’d be the most charming being in the universe.”

“How’d you get out of it?”

Digs goes quiet. Then, he says, “They died in a racing accident. Yellowline. They didn’t want me to race, but they knew how much I loved it and joined me to spectate. I went to get a better view, just as some car crashed into the stands. It killed everyone, and all I could do was watch it happen.”

He continues, eyes empty, “Know what it’s like to know it’s directly your fault that your family died? It removes all emotion from you.” He chuckles, no humor in his voice. “Funnily enough, that’s what you need in a racer. Calm. Cold. Calculated. Able to make split second decisions, right then and there.”

He takes a sip of his own drink. “I signed up for the Shift. I won it. Then Nationals. Then the World Cup. I haven’t gotten Yellowline, but that’s because they haven’t invited me yet. I came too late for Redline; that’ll be in four years. Don’t know if I’ll be good enough by then.”

He pauses, then says, "I got to know your father, during that time. Great guy. Loved the racing, but...he still had his emotions. Even as I locked them away, he'd kiss a picture of your mother, and go into his cockpit grinning. Said he would always bring a trophy home for her."

He finally looks at you. “Make me a promise, Mikoto. Spend some time with your mother. I know you’re a racer, that you’ll never give it up, that you’d die before you do. Just make sure that no one else dies because of it. That’s my one request.”

>Say nothing.
>Of course, Digs. Of course.
>Give him a hug.
>>
>>41333060
>Of course, Digs. Of course.
>Give him a hug.
>Also making my mom watch any races from home.
>>
>Give him a hug.
>>
>>41333060
>Of course, Digs. Of course.
>Give him a hug.
>Add
Can you set up a remote vid feed so my mom can watch me race safely from home?
>>
>>41333196
>>41333195
>>41333149
Writing.
>>
>>41333060

You pull Digs into a hug. “Of course, Digs. Of course.” he hugs back tightly, almost as if he’s holding onto you for dear life, before finally releasing, looking like his normal self again.

He smiles. “Good to know, Mikoto. If you ever need a favor, just ask.”

You smile back. “Well, since I probably want some equipment so my Mom can watch my races from home...”

He laughs. “Alright then, expect me to drop by someday. We can get that all sorted out.”

---

At the end of the night, you descend back to the much less crowded lounge (most of the fans having been cleared out a while ago), leaving just the few racers who hadn’t gone home already. You spot Rench hanging out with his mechanic buddies at the door, and Arachnia talking with some other girl racer you don’t know.

>Talk to Rench
>Talk to Arachnia
>Head on home, it’s late.
>>
>>41333440
>Talk to Arachnia
>>
>>41333440
>Talk to Arachnia
>>
>>41333440
>Head on home, it’s late.
Everything at a later will be so much sweeter to do.
>>
>>41333440
>>Talk to Rench

our bro got our car to us and supped up in like 4 hours
>>
>>41333545
>>41333518
>>41333496
>>41333485

Lurkers come out of woodwork pls. There are 18 IPs, I'd expect a few more. Otherwise, we're heading to Arachnia.
>>
>>41333632
>>41333440
>>Talk to Rench
>>Head on home, it’s late
>>
>Talk to Arachnia
>>
>>41333440
>>Talk to Arachnia
>>
>>41333702
>>41333662
>>41333496
>>41333485
Arachnia, then. writing.
>>
>>41333717
Uh, give me a bit, something came up. Fifteen minutes or so.
>>
>>41333789
Time's up.
The fuck, man.
>>
>>41334190

As in, fifteen minutes to accomplish this task. Have patience, please.

Getting to writing.
>>
>>41334206
Nah, I know.
I'm just fucking with you.
>>
>>41334238
MOM! PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET DON'T LIKE ME!
>>
>>41334247
Art, baby, calm down. I'll always love you.
>>
>>41334347
Can I have waffles for dinner?
>>
>>41334378
Of course.
Spaghetti and waffles, just the way you like it.
>>
>>41333440

You head on over to Arachnia, who notices you as you move over. She frowns as you take a seat beside her. “I feel like that race was slightly unfair.”

You grin at her. “What? Want to call off the bet?”

“I never said that! I keep my promises. I’m honorable, you know. Unlike you.”

You chuckle. “Because Morosa engines are the height of dishonor, right?”

She glares at you, but you just smile back, until she eventually breaks and sighs. “Honestly. So, when’s the date gonna be?”

You think for a second. “Hmm...Well, I haven’t really gone on a date before-”

“Wow, I could barely notice.” you can hear the sarcasm dripping with each word.

“-but how about Starlight Station?”

She perks up. “Starlight? You can get seats there?”

Starlight is one of the many orbital platforms that orbit your planet. But apart from being a centre of commerce, it’s also the host to a zero-g racing arena, allowing people to get a little bit more creative with their driving methods (you’ve seen everything from magnets to little propellers). In the centre of it all is one of the nicest restaurants in the sector, known for its high quality food and superb positioning, allowing you to watch the races as you dine in comfort.

It’s also very very very exclusive. Looks like you might need that favor from Digs a bit earlier.

“I think I can. After all, I *am* the winner of the Shift race-” she punches you in the shoulder, the racing leathers not doing much to absorb the impact.

You start to fold inwards, nursing your shoulder. She merely grins, rising to her feet in preparation to head home. “Alright then, oh great Shift winner. Send me an invite when you get them.”

You nod. “Sure, Arachnia.”

She pauses on her way out, then turns to you. “Actually...You can call me Katherine. Katherine, not Kat, or Kit, or kitty, or any other deviation.”

You smile. “Sure, Kit-Kat.”

The pain is worth it.

(1/2)
>>
>>41334558

The pain is worth it.

Rench helps pull you to your feet after she leaves, whistling. “Damn, Mikoto. You got a feisty one there.”

You laugh, trying to ignore the pain in your ribs. You’re not sure whether it’s from the racing or Arach- Katherine’s punch. “Just a tad. Now I gotta ask Digs for some seats at Starlight.”

Rench nods. “I heard. Listen, you might be able to get them on your own, if you look around. People are always willing to sponsor some newbie who dominates like you do.”

You agree. “Fair enough. Either way, it’s a long night. Time to head home.”

He helps you get to the car, and drives you home, dropping you off in front of the restaurant, where your mom is waiting.

She takes one glance at the lipstick mark on your cheek, and the developing bruises on your chest, and grins. “I remember doing the same thing to your father. You’ve got a keeper right there.”

And with that, your night ends.

---

So, guys. What did you think? Is this a Quest worth running?

The next Redline is in four years. That's your goal right there. The Yellowlines are head yearly at the capital planet in most sectors, so you'll be heading to one of those at some point.

Since this is technically thread 0, that means we can timeskip a bit, if you'd like to hop ahead. We'll leave it for now, and resume in the next thread at the specified time. The less time you skip, the more reputation you get as you win the races, along with more sponsorships and opportunities.

>No timeskips.
>To the Nationals.
>To the World Cup
>To the Yellowline
>[REDLINE NOT AVAILABLE]

So please give me your comments and concerns about this quest. Here's what I'll be fixing in the future:

1. Not just racing. The Redline universe is huge, and you have opportunities for more than just that.

2. Losing. I want you to lose at some point. You'll need to.

That's it for now. Love y'all!
>>
>>41334649
>No timeskips.
Thanks for running!
>>
>>41334649
I'd say its worth running, got me interested thats for sure. Will there be options to timeskip in the future?
>>
>>41334649
>No timeskips.

Thanks for running Arte
>>
>>41334649
>No timeskips.
We need the buffs

This quest has potential, but you need to work on the character details a bit more. Asking for what the MC is like was.... lacking. That and get a back stock of racing cars pics.
>>
>>41334754
If there's a good time for them, of course. Not gonna make you play day by day either way.

>>41334730
Always a pleasure.
>>
>No timeskips.
Enjoyed the thread so I hope you keep it running.
>>
>>41334649
>No timeskips.
Long haul Arte
>>
>No timeskips.
Can't wait for the next thread.
>>
>>41334767
I completely understand. Mind, I wasn't trying to cop out on the MC there. I guess I forgotten what kinda quest this is, as in not one of those where you would want character input or chargen at all.

I'll work on my character detail, as that's arguably my worst skill. It's good practice for me to do it anyway.

>>41334790
Thanks!

>>41334811
It was fun for me too!
>>
>>41334649
>>No timeskips.
>>
>>41334830
I can see input for secondary characters, but the main ones, more so the MC should be the QM's thing. that's my 2 cents on it.
>>
And we're archived!

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=ArtemisQM

If you did(n't) enjoy it, feel free to vote on that button over there. Opinions of people on the internet mean a lot to me.

Have a nice night everyone!
>>
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>>41335067

Looking forward to the next one Art.
>>
Very nice.



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