[a / b / c / d / e / f / g / gif / h / hr / k / m / o / p / r / s / t / u / v / vg / w / wg] [i / ic] [r9k] [cm / hm / y] [3 / adv / an / cgl / ck / co / diy / fa / fit / hc / int / jp / lit / mlp / mu / n / po / pol / sci / soc / sp / tg / toy / trv / tv / vp / x] [rs] [status / ? / @] [Settings] [Home]
Board:  
Settings   Home
4chan
/tg/ - Traditional Games


File: The Start of a New World.jpg (457 KB, 1920x1280)
457 KB
457 KB JPG
Five years ago, the world was changed for you forever in a flash of blue radiance. This strange event bestowed wondrous powers on you and many others. Even if there were ones before, this new generation of heroes and villains was unprecedented in size. Your powers almost netted you enough money to pull you out of poverty, but you just couldn't bring yourself to steal. Your job already lost, you soon lost your apartment, leaving you on the street.

Three years ago, the same blue light shined worldwide in an event known as "The Pow Boom". If you were still a writer for a newspaper, you would have slapped the guy who came up with that name. Unfortunately it stuck. Governments changed, the International Heroes Union collapsed as law enforcement were also affected by the surge in Supers. Ten percent of the population had just gained powers for better or worse, and the US has been working on legislation. The newest is an anonymous, voluntary catalog of powers, but Congress hasn't agreed on Supers for years.

Through all this, you continued to help others as a vigilante, saving people as you found them and stopping muggers. One guy even gave you a used car a few months ago because you saved him from a fire. The surge in people doing the same means you have no name yet, but those you saved simply call you the angel in the shadows. Not exactly catchy, but flattering all the same. Then, suddenly, the world cared, naming you Scribe after an impressive display of power that you had no idea would work. You are Raphael Gaus, and the year is 2023.

About SuperHuman Legacy Quest: http://pastebin.com/t0GNPM0h

Archived Threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Superhuman%20Legacy

Thread 20: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/44533375/

Raphael's Sheet: http://pastebin.com/kR6i8utR
>>
File: Dreg.jpg (22 KB, 400x760)
22 KB
22 KB JPG
You open your eyes and are greeted by splashes of color in vague shapes of objects, your head aching little more than average. That's the first thing that strikes you as strange, normally when you push too far your head feels like it was run through a vice. Curiously reaching your hand to the back of your head, you feel a bit of a gooey substance back there. A quick examination of your blurry hand proves your suspicion that you didn't just pass out, blood is smeared over it like a painted canvas.

Your sight eventually clears and you can see that this is someone's living room, and someone old at that. It's cloistered with antiques, cozies, and more than a few grandfather clocks. Searching the room, you see some stairs heading up to what you'd imagine would be bedrooms, a doorway with a knit quilt hanging on the wall next to it, and a large wooden door that seems to lead outside. Glancing over the entryway, you see four pairs of shoes resting on a mat.

>Examine the room (1d100)
>Enter the door next to the quilt
>Head upstairs
>Yell something
>Just leave
>Write-in
>>
Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>47098448
>>Examine the room (1d100)
>>
Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>47098448
>>Examine the room (1d100)
>>
Right now just waiting for that third roll.
>>
Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>47098448
>>47098708
>>
>>47098509
>>47098547
>>47098739
Okay, writing.
>>
File: OLD.jpg (116 KB, 591x800)
116 KB
116 KB JPG
You look around the room some more and examine the contents a bit more closely, but nothing seems to stand out too much. All of the clocks have a symbol on them, but it looks more like a signature than anything suspicious. Glancing over the cozies, they all seem to be handmade, but other than that they're just normal decorations. Some of the antiques are more interesting though. The person who lives here seems to have very eclectic tastes in antiques, you aren't sure how any of this stuff relates.

You see some taxidermied animals, a lot of them are wolves, but skimming over to another corner a large bookcase stands empty. As you set to looking over it, the door behind you opens up and some familiar faces file out, as well as a lanky man with a heavily wrinkled face and graying hair. Dreg is the first one to speak up.

"He's awake, I'll get those towels now." He then walks upstairs, this causes the man to look at you. A quick glance at Crack, who you'd expect to be the first to talk, reveals that he's jabbering back and forth with Hood. You can't make out what they're talking about. The old man gives a half smile.

"Hello, my name is Henry. These young men brought you here to get checked out after what they described as a "shitshow". Take a seat and I'll get started with the examination." He seems very tired, like someone who ran a marathon and then decided to go into work.

>Introduce yourself
>Ask a question
>Sit down
>Refuse his offer and leave
>Write-in
>>
>>47099035
>>Introduce yourself
>>Ask a question
>>Sit down
What happened?
>>
>>47099035
>>47099121
this
>>
>>47099121
>>47099193
Okay, writing.
>>
File: The Curator.jpg (59 KB, 492x328)
59 KB
59 KB JPG
"I'm Raphael, what happened?" You take a seat while Henry grabs a wooden chair from scross the room and brings it in front of you, then does the same.

"You got glassed, they told me a brawl broke out and that somebody hit you with a glass of beer." He begins poking you and prodding you a bit, then pulls a penlight out of his pocket and shines it at your eye. He makes various humming noises as he stands up and looks at the back of your head. He wipes the blood off and then exhales sharply.

"Well, the good news is that you seem to be fine, actually, better than you really should be. Now I have to ask, have you been getting headaches lately, most likely after physical stress? Any fainting? Blurred vision?" He seems a bit worried, like he's found something he didn't expect to. A quick glance at the towel shows some smudges of dark blood inside the blotch of fresh blood he wiped off.

>"Yes."
>"No."
>"Just tell me what you suspect."
>Write-in
>>
>>47099452
>"No."
>"Just tell me what you suspect."
>>
>>47099452
>"No."
>"Just tell me what you suspect."
>>
File: Blood.gif (1.05 MB, 160x286)
1.05 MB
1.05 MB GIF
"No, what do you suspect?"

"Well, first off when Althumans come into being, fundamental changes are made to their biology. I once met a guy who was literally a walking shadow, but most people aren't that obviously changed. It appears you have an onset of Hypercoagulation, I'm not sure if that's simply something you had before or if your powers caused it. Either way, this isn't entirely bad, as it appears that you lose much less blood than you should. I'd prescribe an anticoagulant if I had an actual license." He talks to you in a very curt manner, realizing that you probably were worried.

"And can I get that in layman's terms?"

"Your blood clots up really quickly, it doing so in your veins would cause oxygen deprivation, resulting in headaches and fainting. The upside is that surface wounds heal more swiftly. Honestly, these streaks in your blood are rather disconcerting, but you say you're fine so an anticoagulant isn't required. No concussion from the glass, so other than that I give you a clean bill of health."

He quickly stands up and moves his chair back to its former position. Then he taps Dreg on the shoulder and walks back through the door. Hood and Crack walk up to you and Crack gives you a grin.

"So, did he give yoou a lollipop and a smiley face sticker?"

>"How much do I owe you?"
>"I'm going to go back to my car and collapse into a bottle of beer."
>"Thank you."
>Write-in
>>
>>47099903
>>"How much do I owe you?"
>>
>>47099903
>"Thank you."
>>"How much do I owe you?"
>>
>>47099903
>"Thank you."
>"How much do I owe you?"
>>
File: Break.jpg (71 KB, 564x1067)
71 KB
71 KB JPG
"Thank you, how much do I owe you?"

"Dude, just pay for the next round at the Radical, this guy isn't a real doctor. He charged us about thirty bucks to bring you in here. Besides, it's kind of our fault for getting into the whole dickwaving contest. I'll tell you what though, if you need some help on getting some money, I know some people who would kill for someone who can do what you can." Break shakes your hand, but Hood just stands with his arms crossed.

"Go home, get some sleep. We're leaving, if you need us just ask Dross." He pushes Break to the door and puts on his boots. Dreg just sits on the stairs looking at the front door.

"I have an appointment, it would probably be good for you to leave Raphael. Have a nice evening." Dreg sighs out the words from beneath his hood.

"You too."

>You have $790
>It is 7PM

>Just go to your car and sleep
>Get something to eat on the way "home"
>Go patrolling for crime
>Go to your car and write
>Write-in

I fucked up, his name is Break.
>>
>>47100419
>>Get something to eat on the way "home"
>>
>>47100419
>Get something to eat on the way "home"
>>
>>47100419
>Get something to eat on the way "home"
>Go to your car and write
>>
File: Hood.jpg (111 KB, 640x1101)
111 KB
111 KB JPG
You grab your shoes and walk out the door after waving to everyone. The streets are getting dark and your stomach growls, so you decide that the small, crappy burger joint across from the alley where you parked is better than nothing. You walk into the admittedly very dirty "restaurant" and order something you're sure that they can't mess up, a burger and some fries. They have a fountain, but you opt for a canned soda instead after seeing the cleanliness of this place. They bring out the burger in a plastic basket with some fries next to it and it looks passable. Tastes pretty much the same as it looks.

>You spent $10 for a mediocre meal

After finishing your meal, you can't help but wonder about what Henry said. Maybe your power isn't as taxing as you thought, but medicine is pretty low on your list, you need somewhere to live other than your car and that takes money. The streetlamp in front of the window flickers in disrepair as occasionally a person walks by, probably on their way home.

You throw away your can and walk over to the alley that houses your car. The door unlocks as you press the button on your key and you sit down in the back seat. You briefly consider writing, but your eyelids suddenly feel heavy and before you know it you're dozing off. Giving one final thought before you rest, you lock the doors.

The sun hurts your eyes as you are roused, but you're feeling better than last night, your headache is gone and you feel rested. You don't feel like getting hot breakfast to day, so you just eat a granola bar.

>It is 7AM on Saturday

>Go to the Radical and see if Break's friends have any work
>Work on your novel
>Patrol
>Test out your new equipment
>Write-in
>>
>>47100898
>Work on your novel
>>
So I'm going to end here because 5 posters in 3 hours. Expect another thread when board stuff dies down.



[Advertise on 4chan]

Delete Post: [File Only] Style:
[Disable Mobile View / Use Desktop Site]

[Enable Mobile View / Use Mobile Site]

All trademarks and copyrights on this page are owned by their respective parties. Images uploaded are the responsibility of the Poster. Comments are owned by the Poster.