[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]
Settings   Home
/qst/ - Quests

File: KoF XIV.jpg (147 KB, 1280x1280)
147 KB
147 KB JPG
>Previous Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/46565312/
>Twitter: https://twitter.com/WeaselThat
>Character Bio & Moveset: http://pastebin.com/YTgbWwQH


"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown." ~ H.P. Lovecraft

You are Katja Hartkern (Despite, or in spite of what anyone else says), and for the first time in a long, long time you're... Scared? Scared of what? You aren't fucking scared... Not over a tournament bracket, at the very least. You were scared when that "Ghost" tried to get the drop on you in your own home and his mask & top-hat showed up later at a hotel you were staying at. You were scared when it felt like that one wrestler chick, "Tsunami Tsuyako", was going to try and break your legs last week. Shit, you were scared that you had gone too far nearly breaking her arm in a sorta-rematch...

But to you, being scared is a sign of weakness, a sign of inexperience. You've won too many goddamn fights and have dealt with too much shit lately to be second-guessing yourself in the middle of your second "Friday Night Real Bout" tournament in two weeks.

"Shit, that kind of tough-talk used to work" you think as you take a look at the "Stage" (A small, grassy spot in a park situated between a coffee shop and a recreational center) getting prepared for the first fight of the new bracket.

Why is it that there's something deep inside of you that just...? You just can't quite seem to really give your best at anything, or achieve more than enough to live. You fell into your job at that shit-heap Cafe de Paradiso because it suits your needs and you never looked to try and press yourself any harder than you had to.

Fighting? Fighting's the same way. You learned Judo to help with getting bullied at school in your youth, then kept going until college where it got too hard and you felt like everybody else had some kind of advantage over you in some way or another. When you turned your back on Olympic gold for street fighting, you stuck with it because it felt easy compared to what you were doing before and the level of competition was low enough that you didn't need to really push yourself hard... Until now.

File: Spoiler Image (1021 KB, 3272x4500)
1021 KB
1021 KB JPG

You take a look at the top 8 of the tournament again and shake your head. Just over a year ago it seemed like nobody important was showing up to this "Get Together" the city would sanction to try and keep youth away from crime, but now...

Now, you've got a couple of King of Fighters regulars (Eiji Kisaragi & Kasumi Todoh), a couple of old-school Real Bout fighters (Duck King & Rick Strowd) and three locals, two of whom are infamous around the city ("Karate Joe" & "Hobo-Kamen"). All you know now is that you don't have a snowball's chance in hell of beating anybody in this tournament. Hell, even the guy you haven't even heard of (Andrew Draco) could probably rip you a new asshole and serve it to you on a silver platter...

>A. Stay in the tournament. Break you fears, win this sucker and make your rent money for the month.

>B. Quietly drop out of the tournament. Fake an injury if you have to, but you can't go through with this, not without more time, training & tutoring from... Well, somebody.

>C. "Play it by ear" and watch how the rest of the brackets play out. Who knows, maybe you'll get the weaker side of the bracket and breeze through this tournament?

>D. Write-In Vote
>A. Stay in the tournament. Break you fears, win this sucker and make your rent money for the month.
File: 1366053085305.gif (97 KB, 768x256)
97 KB
Rolled 2 (1d7)


You shake your head, mentally kicking yourself. Where the hell did that kind of thinking come from? What would Tatsuya-Sensei think of you? "Probably smack me upside my head and tell me to get back to doing drills" you think.

You nod at yourself, the crowd and a couple of passer-by giving you a wide berth. You can win this. Hell, you probably NEED to win this, because you're not sure you can hang at the Cafe much longer...

"Break the fears... No tears. Break the fears..." you mumble, trying to keep your "Act" up behind the tattered wrestling mask you're wearing in case Tatsuya or anybody from his dojo spots you... Not that you've seen anybody, but it never hurts to be careful.


OK, so in lieu of asking y'all to vote for an opponent, I'm going to make this interesting and roll a 1d7. Each character Kat might face is numbered 1-7.

>1. Eiji
>2. Kasumi
>3. Duck King
>4. Rick Strowd
>5. Draco
>6. Hobo-Kamen
>7. Karate Joe

>Pic Related: The "Stage"
File: 1351820000319.jpg (48 KB, 1400x1600)
48 KB


Curiously, the fight order has been reversed from the preliminaries as you head back to the "Holding" area, then huff it to get to the "Ring" itself as you hear that you're up first. You try to keep the "Hard-ass bringer destruction"-schtick, but nearly break character when you see who you're opponent is.

"Kasumi Todoh? Shit, I should'nt have worn this mask" you think as she gets out... What is that, a phrasebook?

"You... Are... Go-ing tu loose" Kasumi butchers.

Part of you wants to rip your mask off right here and now, then claim the win in honor of Kyokugen Karate... But the "Ham & cheese" announcer cuts in before you could think about doing it.

>Round 1! FIGHT!!!

>A. Rush in and try to overwhelm her defenses with your natural speed and simple punches & kicks (Roll 2d20).

>B.Take it cautiously. Kasumi's style is built around punishing mistakes, so make her come to you (Roll 3d20).

>C. Move in and out of what you think her range might be and try to bait her for counter-hits. (Roll 3d20)
Rolled 6, 15, 8 = 29 (3d20)

Rolled 18, 20 = 38 (2d20)

>A. Rush in and try to overwhelm her defenses with your natural speed and simple punches & kicks (Roll 2d20).
File: kas-sidekick (1).gif (21 KB, 131x119)
21 KB

Going to need a tie-breaker on this one, or I might bust out the ye olde 1d2...
Do the roll I guess.
File: kas-aikido.gif (44 KB, 157x125)
44 KB
Rolled 1 (1d2)


OK, Coin-Flip time!

1 = Option A
2 = Option B

Writing immediately after the flip.
File: 47417387_p1.jpg (153 KB, 563x800)
153 KB
153 KB JPG

Kasumi Todoh... Just hearing her name in the back of your mind makes you wonder about what her dad did to piss off the godfather of Kyokugen, because everything you've been trained in so far should be able to counter her Aikido-based fighting style. Plus, what kind of woman would disown a girl like Avery because of her career choices?

Not the place to think about that; Time to fight.

You recklessly rush in Kasumi right from the start, expertly hitting her in the head with a flying kick that went over her two-handed almost-projectile (The "Kasane Ate"), then follow up with a Left Hook that nearly knocks her over. She steadies back and tries to hit what looks like a high counter-throw, but you sweep her off her feet and hop back for just a second.

Though Kasumi gracefully rolls back up to her feet, you hit a Super Kick right to her chest and knock her back right to the edge of the "Ring". Interestingly, she doesn't lose her footing and again tries to go for a counter-hold, which you throw her out of with a Uchimata. "Goddamn, this chick is supposed to be the heir to the Todoh style and the best practitioner they've got?" Pathetic. No wonder Avery left them behind her.

Despite her tiny frame (Seriously, she couldn't be more than 5' tall tops and probably weighs less than 100 lbs soaking wet), she seems to be made of some stern stuff because she's right back up to her feet, throwing out a projectile you have to actually block for once. It... Kind of stings?

"The hell was that?" you think before hitting a quick Strayacut to her jaw, Kasumi reeling as she tries to get back up.

>A. Taunt her. She hasn't even put a scratch on you yet, and you could easily transition into a Ude-Hishigi-Juji-Gatame to try and finish this fight quickly (Roll 2d20 and provide a taunt)

>B. Let her get her bearings and fish for counter-hits; You've got this fight in the bag (Roll 3d20)

>C. Keep going on the offensive against her, but start slipping in some more quick special moves. (Roll 2d20)

>D. Write-In Vote.
Rolled 4, 10 = 14 (2d20)

>A. Taunt her. She hasn't even put a scratch on you yet, and you could easily transition into a Ude-Hishigi-Juji-Gatame to try and finish this fight quickly (Roll 2d20 and provide a taunt)
"Come on, girly. Fight fighter or are you too weak because everyone left you?"
File: 46482625_p0.jpg (1005 KB, 1027x1365)
1005 KB
1005 KB JPG

"Come on, girly. Fight harder! Or are you too weak because everyone left you?"

Immediately, you realize saying that was a mistake, because Kasumi goes on the attack with a flurry of different moves, ending with a roundhouse kick that nearly knocks you off of your feet. You steady yourself and go for the first opening you spot for a favorite Judo hold of yours: The Ude-Hishigi-Juji-Gatame.

Kasumi yelps in fright at the sight of you locking it in and dragging her down to the ground, but your workout from earlier in the day and the first couple of preliminary fights seems to be draining your strength, because Kasumi endured the pain long enough to be able to stand up out of the hold, slapping in you in the head to finally break it.

You instinctively try to go for a Hien Shippu Kyaku, but Kasumi finally gets a counter to go off and kicks your leg out from underneath you and swiftly transitions to the other side. "Damn it... That one actually hurt" you think as you roll up to your feet, only to be greeted by another flurry of slaps, elbows & palm strikes. You block most of them fairly easily, but your attempt to get off another "Jump-In" combination gets stuffed by some kind of uppercut palm.

"No more games then..."

>A. "Powered-up" RYUUKO RANBUU! (Roll 3d20)

>B. "Powered-Up" STUN-GUN STINGER! (Roll 3d20)

[Green]>C. Block and try to get some counter hits. Kasumi normally doesn't go on offense like she has been in this fight. (Roll 2d20)[/green]

>D. Write-In Vote.
Rolled 7, 18, 5 = 30 (3d20)

>>B. "Powered-Up" STUN-GUN STINGER! (Roll 3d20)
File: comebackwenuglowup.png (487 KB, 810x517)
487 KB
487 KB PNG

You hold back for a moment as you get up off the grass, Kasumi wasting no time to try and end this fight by throwing out another one of those damn projectiles. Fortunately, you block it easily enough and "Power-up", a faint golden glow emanating around your body. Kasumi's eyes widen as you gut her in the gut and land a "Stun-Gun Stinger". However, even though you could hear the crowd "Pop" when the attack connected Kasumi's still standing on her feet through sheer will and determination, egging you on for one more...

Which is the second big mistake you've made in this fight, aside from signing up for it without Tatsuya-Sensei's permission.

As you go to land a second "Stun-Gun Stinger", Kasumi reverses it mid-way through by grabbing your arms and slamming you over her shoulder with all of her might, then punching the back of your head. The pain is absolutely excruciating before everything goes dark for the second week in a row...

Until you wake up to what sounds like the guy on the jury-rigged PA system calling a double count-out:

>"4... 5... 6... 7..."

"Come on you bag of bones, MOVE!" your mind screams as you try to get up before a dreaded "Double KO" gets called, knocking both of you out of the tournament.

>Roll 1d20. First 3 rolls will count.
Rolled 13 (1d20)

>Roll 1d20
Well, damn...
File: Spoiler Image (1.98 MB, 1446x2046)
1.98 MB
1.98 MB JPG

Every sinew in your musculature is screaming at you to stop what you're doing and stay put on the soft blades of grass while your head is trickling a little bit of blood through a hole in your mask from a stone you fell on before Kasumi tried to KO you for good with one punch. Shows what your body knows; you want to win this fight goddamnit and you don't have time to bleed.

It takes an agonizingly long time to stand upright, some guy in a disheveled black & white referee's uniform giving you a shoulder to lean on just before he was about to signal for the bell. You look down at Kasumi sprawled out on the damp grass and can't help but feel lucky; Even though you had a lot of the offense in this fight, she had a couple of perfectly-placed hits that should've taken you out of the game...

Your mood sours as the crowd still left after the rain showers earlier start to boo and through stuff from the coffee shop at you. "Ingrates..." your mind hazily thinks before you crouch down, grab a cookie and take a bite out of it before flipping off the crowd as the referee guy escorts you out of the ring.

"I can handle it from here" you tell him in a darker tone of voice than usual (Again, to try and hide your identity in case anybody from your Dojo or The "Southtown Wrestling Federation" is present), then nearly stumble over as you make your way to the small medical center the Real Bout organizers have set up in the rec center.

The doctor (A dowdy older woman with big glasses and a beehive for hair) takes one look at you through a stethoscope and frowns. "You're done."

"What do you mean?"

"You're pupils are dilated and you suffered blunt trauma to the back of your head. You're done" she coolly replies.

"Doc, I'm a fighter. I'm not done until my body says I am" you state.

"The doctor throws her hands up in the air in disgust and yells "If you want to risk permanent brain damage, be my guest! But my advice is to drop out of this chickenshit show and get a check-up at the Kagura Clinic for a concussion."

>A. Tell the doctor "Fuck that noise; Give me some morphine injections and get me back out there" the doctor to inject you with some Morphine and get back out there. I've got a tournament to win". (Roll 2d20)

>B. Take the doctor's advice and withdraw from the tournament. You don't fuck around with concussions.

>C. Ask her if she can give you some tests to really see if you have a concussion or not; You don't feel "Fuzzy" or whatever (Roll 1d20).

>D. Write-In Vote
Rolled 15 (1d20)

>C. Ask her if she can give you some tests to really see if you have a concussion or not; You don't feel "Fuzzy" or whatever (Roll 1d20).
If we do have a concussion, we should drop out. Don't want to ruin our fighting career so soon.

"Can I at least get a test?"

"For what? A concussion?" the doctor asks, sounding a bit like she's too old for dealing with this kind of thing.


She sighs, then gets out a tablet that's almost as big as a lap-top computer screen and runs you through a battery of different but interconnected tests and exercises ("The ImPACT" Test, she called it), as well as asking you a bunch of personal information questions.

It took nearly all of the free time you would've had to get through them, but somehow you... Don't have a concussion? "How'd the hell did that happen?" you think as your shown the results.

"Well, you must have a thick skull to be able to cushion a blow like that" the bitch of a doctor says.

"Yeah, that's what they all say" you shrug. "Can I go?"

"Only if you want to" the doctor replies.

You nod, then slowly get up off the bench you were sitting on and immediately feel sore, your neck and arms making audible cracks & pops. "Damn, she did a number on me alright" you ponder as you head back out into the "Holding" area just outside of the ring, some long-haired guy dressed up like he's going to a funeral poring over the bracket charts.

He takes a turn around to look at you and... Holy shit, it's the "Tall, Dark & Handsome" guy from the speed shop that one guy (Dave, you think?) owns. Huh... It figures that he'd be into fighting; Shit, if he knew Dave as a friend then it's a given that he's probably interested in fighting to some extent.

You hope that your mask covered your face enough to hide a slight blush on your cheeks as you briskly walk past him and head out to look at some "Weekend Warriors" preparing the stage for the semi-finals... Then start to stretch and feel your body fail to comply as introductions begin.


"Damn it to hell" you grumble as you hop over the fence and enter the arena from the "Wrong" side, then desperately try to stretch out your pain.


"Tall, Dark & Handsome" you saw just a few minutes earlier casually walks out from the shadows and stares you down, an odd feeling in your gut rising up as he slowly shifts into a stance...

>A. Take a second to finish stretching, then run in and fight like your life's depending on it. (Roll 3d20)

>B. Hop up to your feet and take it slow. Give Draco enough rope to hang himself with and look for counter-hits and throws. (Roll 3d20)

>C. Try to keep him guess by moving erratically and mixing offense with defense. (Roll 3d20)

>D. Write-In Vote.

>E. Formally withdraw from the tournament. This guy's aura gives you the creeps and your body's not 100% ready to take him on.
>E. Formally withdraw from the tournament. This guy's aura gives you the creeps and your body's not 100% ready to take him on.
Unless someone else wants to fight
File: Spoiler Image (2.61 MB, 4128x2322)
2.61 MB
2.61 MB JPG

There's something about this guy... Something dark and foreboding deep in his Ki, his energy... Something that reminds you a little of that "Poltergeist" that's been toying with you for the last week as you finish up your stretches, the aches and pains in your body just not going away. "I'm probably going to lose to this guy" you admit to yourself in your mind. "That and... Well, I wouldn't want to take him on even if I had a clean bill of health..."

Just as the announcer signals for the start of the match, you call for time ask Draco to come over. He crosses his arms and strides over, then you tell him the bad news in a quiet voice: "I concede. My body's done, mate."

He looks at you funny for a moment, then shrugs his shoulders. "Suit yourself" is all he says before walking over to the booth to inform the officials of your decision.

The boos and hisses rain down you again as you hop over the side of the fence you were supposed to enter from in the first place, but this time you don't seem to care as the adrenaline that helped you get up off of the ground during the Kasumi Todoh fight seems to be draining away by the minute, only making you feel even more tired and beat-up than before. You take a longer way around to the back of the rec center and find an open stall in the ladies room to quickly change back into your street clothes, then go downstairs into the back of an underground garage where you parked your "Slant-nose" Porsche.

After a quick jog to keep yourself awake, you unlock and open door, but stop when you hear your MP3 player playing a song you don't recognize. "The fuck? The car isn't even on" you hear yourself think out loud while clambering inside. Strangely enough, as soon as you close the door your MP3 player stops.

"That's... Odd"

Even stranger, just about when you find your cellphone are about to start the car, the damn thing comes back on. Morbidly curious, you take a look at the screen of your MP3 player and see that it's a garbled mess of 1's & 0's, the only legible read-out displaying that you're currently listening to "Track 99" of a set-list you didn't make... Plus, the music itself sounds like something Snoop Dogg would've made when he first got signed to a record deal, which isn't your style at all.

You try to remain calm and keep from completely freaking out, especially when the last song your MP3 player was an old Jazz tune by Ornette Coleman and you don't even listen to Snoop (Or Rap, for that matter).

That's when the real fun starts.


While just staring at the CD player trying to figure out what the hell is going on, you hear a loud bang as all lights in the parking garage go out and your MP3 player stops playing... Whatever that was. Maybe it's because you're scared, maybe it's because you're too tired to care, but rather than start the car up or try to move you seem content to just sit in the driver's seat petrified as all fuck in total darkness for a few minutes until the lights come back on.
"Christ, the fuck's going on in this town nowadays?" you rhetorically ask yourself as you fire up the ignition and notice that car next to my yours is turned 180 degrees from where it was 5 minutes ago...

>A. GTFO of here NOW.

>B. Call up "The Wind", tell him to get his ass over here now because THIS IS TOO SPOOKY.

>C. Get some food somewhere, like the Pao Pao Cafe or something in Little Korea nearby. You need to take your mind off of this crazy shit.

>D. Write-In Vote

>E. Go back up to the Coffee Shop and watch the rest of the tournament unfold.
>C. Get some food somewhere, like the Pao Pao Cafe or something in Little Korea nearby. You need to take your mind off of this crazy shit.
File: 1346354941564.gif (151 KB, 625x376)
151 KB
151 KB GIF

You're mind's wide awake now, an all-too-familiar sense of fear and dread overwhelming you as you fumble around for your cellphone to check the time. "4:44 PM...? Huh... Earlier than I though it was."

You briefly consider giving "The Wind" a call to chew him out over all this spooky bullshit you usually read on FightChan happening to you, but think better of it. He owes you a couple more favors still and it's a better idea to be on his good graces than to not... Though, you hold off on getting Chinese for dinner; Korean barbecue sounds good to your now-rumbling stomach.

You hit it and roll on out of the garage and make tracks to Little Korea, beating the traffic by mere minutes as you find a parking spot out of a place "Wind" raved was one of the best in the city, the smells alone making you dizzy. Ultimately, you settle on getting an order of Dwaeji bulgogi and take the time think about how crazy your week has been.

"Let's see... I let myself get beat up by some fat schoolgirl wrestler, got revenge on her, pissed off a bounty hunter with ties to the South Town P.D., shook Terry Bogard's hand, fought a cowgirl grappler, a Hong-Kong cop, Professor Bad-ass, a Wire-Fu character... And still get shat on at the cafe for actually doing my job. And my house is without electricity..."

You pause at that last one, then quietly face-palm. "Sheeeiiit... It's going to suck having to get candles ready in the dark up there with all of the spiritualy crap that's gone on up there."

>A. Head home and relax. You need to get some rest for work tomorrow shift at "Cafe de Paradiso".

>B. Try to find a cheap motel in the city and stay the night in relative comfort. You've got enough money from 4th place at Real Bout tonight to pay for it.

>C. Call up Tatsuya-Sensei and see what he's up to. You need somebody to talk to about all of this and get an opinion.

>D. Write-In Vote.

>E. Take a walk in Little Korea to digest your food. What could go wrong?
>A. Head home and relax. You need to get some rest for work tomorrow shift at "Cafe de Paradiso".
What a tough day.

You stop at a gas station on the way home to pick up a bunch of emergency candles and get home to your cabin out in the woods by 6-ish, the sun setting just over the horizon line of the tallest mountain range you can see, the smell of the ocean carrying on the wind as the trees shake and shimmy a little.

"Damn, that smells good... Missed it today.'

It takes you about an hour to set up the candles and light them as the sun truly sets and the darkness sets in, unnerving you a little bit after what happened. Fortunately, you find that your lap-top and your phone are fully charged from not using them a lot today, so at least you aren't bored out of your skull tonight...

"First thing I'll do in the morning is call up an electrician" you think as an episode of some cheesy-as-fuck Super-Robot Anime you wouldn't be caught dead marathoning finishes up, complete with a bombastic announcer giving away a "Preview" that pretty much tells you everything that's going to happen in the next episode. Goddamn, you love turning your brain off and letting pretty/cool/sexy/violent pictures amuse you sometimes. Also, you're pretty sure that "The Wind" copied most of his weird little mannerisms from the two main villains...

You stifle a yawn and take a look at your lap-top's clock and decide to hit the hay, hoping for a restful sleep as you blow out the last candles you had lit and curling up under the covers.

Of course, if you could preview your dreams in the same way that show did with episodes, you would've wished you had a concussion and had to stay up all night.

>You are now entering the world of DreamTime

For whatever reason, you don't seem to remember your dreams all that much. It's ironic considering your mother (God rest her soul) was some kind of Aborigine priestess in all-but name and would go on about a mystical place where past, present, future, what could've been and what might be all mingle together: "DreamTime".

So, you find yourself in a church, dressed like a... Bridesmaid?

"Wonder if I left my stove on" you think as a bride walks in, her face completely shrouded behind a veil, her shapely body shown off by an ornate dress and her escort looking like your dad, if he were like a thousand years old and had a beard that went down to the floor.

Before you could even begin to comprehend just how many people are holding up the (Shorter-than-you-thought) bride, the groom is introduced and, it's... Andy Draco from the tournament.

"Wonderful" you think, your bridesmaid dress turning into a butch suit and Tie as Andy and the bride exchange vows in a backwards language... Then asks for the rings.

>A. "Ya' shoulda' bumped uglies with me, mate. Woulda' made the cunt next't'ya' look like a damn nun amirite?"

>B. "How long is a piece of string?"

>C. "I've always loved you."

>D. Write-In Vote.

>E. "You're fuckin' dead to me, Andy Draco."
>A. "Ya' shoulda' bumped uglies with me, mate. Woulda' made the cunt next ya' look like a damn nun amirite?"
File: Spoiler Image (739 KB, 1920x1200)
739 KB
739 KB JPG

You fish around in your pockets, then produce a box the size of your car's engine and hand it to him, but not before telling him "Ya' shoulda' bumped uglies with me, mate. Woulda' made the cunt next ya' look like a damn nun amirite?"

Every set of eyes in the room looks at you, including a symphony of mechanics wearing greasy overalls and playing instruments built out of scrap metal you didn't notice until now as the box drops and scatters into a million triangular pieces.


The music stops and a cacophony of rage & anger fills your ears, all in that backwards language you swear you heard somewhere before... But more unusual than that is your voice; It's got an accent you've only read about on "Austalians GTFO" troll-bait threads on FightChan.

"Come tha'fuck on, y'all bloody well know that I had a fancy fer'the goddamn groom! Why'd'y'think I let meself be a bloody Groom?!" you yell, but soon the riot that sprang up out of nowhere becomes enveloped in flames, church bells ringing and police sirens blaring from outside as Draco stares you down, the bride from before nowhere to be seen and those Triangles floating high in the ceilings above you.

>A. "Just couldn't wait fer'that rematch eh? I should'a'killed you when I had the chance."

>B. "Not like this."

>C. "Wanna get some squid with the rest of the Buffalo Soldiers? We got a good barbecue going."

>D. Write-in Vote

>E. Ascend to "Legendary Super-'Strayan" status. You know you want to. (Roll 1d100)
Rolled 91 (1d100)

>E. Ascend to "Legendary Super-'Strayan" status. You know you want to. (Roll 1d100)
File: Spoiler Image (13 KB, 184x184)
13 KB
Had dinner. Sorry for the delayed reply.


The inner weaboo trash festering inside of you since highschool urges you to try something you've done in small doses for a while now... But never gone as far as this.

You scream at the top of your lungs as that "Powered-Up" sensation washes over your body, then keeps growing and growing, the hair on your head rising up from all of the electricity flowing through your body and a bright golden aura surrounds you. It's powerful enough that it throws up bits of debris as Draco hops back from it, holding up an arm to block out the light. When you feel your lungs about to collapse, you stop screaming and take a moment to bask in your new, unspeakable power... And also note one of the "Dramatic" background tracks of the last Anime you watched is playing in the background.

"W... What in god's name are you?" Draco fumbles, sounding scared in spite of his eyes covered in darkness.

"I... I am the legendary Super'Strayan, Katja Hartkern!' You roar, holding up a hand trembling with electricity. "And this Hand'o'mine... IS GOIN' RIGHT UP YER' ARSE MATE!!!"

You laugh an inhuman wail as you dash towards Draco at an impossible speed, grabbing his neck with your other arm and squeezing tight enough a normal person probably would've had their head ripped off already. He looks stone-faced at you, a kind of sadness behind the expression. "I never should've even looked at you back at Dave's" he croaks.

The second those words escape his lips, everything kind of stops in place and you can actually see what the actual fuck is going on, the insanity in your eyes... And how they remind you of stories you heard from "Wind" about watching you fight in the underground clubs and tournaments.

Then his body turns to literal stone and ashes along with the rest of the cathedral, leaving you standing in the middle of the rain, the coat he was wearing on your shoulders and embers hissing in the night, a "Sad" song from the same OST as before quietly droning on in the background.

>A. Laugh.

>B. Cry.

>C. Go see a man about a horse.

>D. Write-In Vote.

>E. Wake Up.
>E. Wake Up.
It's all good.

"You can never run away from your past" you hear Ellie, Tatsuya-Sensei's daughter tell you as you kneel down into the ashes, the "Super Strayan" effect powering down and leaving you feeling as drained as... Well, as drained as you were the night all of those bad choices caught up with you and it took South Town's Mayor to set you right.

The wail of the police sirens rise up again as Ellie materializes next to you, memories of the night that wouldn't end replaying like an old film in your mind. "I'm never going to forget what you've done tonight, or what you did before. I don't think anyone in this city would've if I hadn't found you and done this" Ellie curtly says. "But..."


She pauses, the look on her face giving you the impression she's trying to get the words just right. "You can go on to be something else in your future" she says, though it's muffled by the motorcycle helmet you now remember she wore and the squeaks of the tight 'bike leathers.

"I don't have a future" you ruefully tell her. "Who's going to want somebody that makes a living out of treating people like punching bags?"

"My dad" Ellie replies.

"I broke his bloody arm though" you state.

You remember that this was when Ellie kind of shrugged as the two of you stopped at an intersection that was crowded with cops, stopping under a lamppost and nearly taking the both of you over because your legs were just about shot...

>The DreamTime has passed

You looked up into the light of that lamppost and hear crickets & birds chirping, the sun not quite up yet and your alarm vibrating.

"What the fuck, man" you wonder as you struggle to get out of bed, the pain in your arms and legs especially apparent today. A quick shower (Especially quick, as you don't have hot water until the electricity gets fixed) doesn't help and since your 'fridge was also electric, most of the food in there is probably dodgy as well...

"Oh yeah, it's Cheat Day" you remember, your stomach gurgling in agreement and a smirk on your face. Maybe today isn't going to be so bad after all...?

>A. Fuck it, hit the Paradiso early and make yourself something there. The food's not half-bad if you take the time to actually cook it.

>B. Go out and try to hit up that one Donut shop nearby you always wanted to try out on "Cheat Day".

>C. Make some toast and have a couple of pieces of fruit before you leave for work.

>D. Write-In Vote.

>E. Call in sick and spend the rest of the day lazing around the house watching stuff until your lap-top's battery dies.
>A. Fuck it, hit the Paradiso early and make yourself something there. The food's not half-bad if you take the time to actually cook it.

"Fuck it, might as well go to work."

You have to really dig through your closet to find some clean clothes ("Probably need to do some laundry soon"), but then get going and are out on the winding road to the highway that leads to the outskirts of South Town soon enough... Though, you didn't want to tempt fate by messing around with the MP3 player hooked up to your car's stereo. Or try out that one Donut shop just north of your house... Maybe next time...

You arrive at "Cafe de Paradiso", the biggest scam in town as far as what people think they get compared to what the food actually is, earlier than you usually would and starving after crashing last night without a snack or two to tide you over.

As you have to pay for whatever you make for yourself and the fact that most of the ingredients come from a mix of different grocery stores and a bakery that's always pissed off they have to drive out to the "Middle of Nowhere" for "So Little" product, you go for a breakfast sandwich using a Bagel, some eggs, melted cheddar cheese and... Fuck it, some ham for shits and giggles. It's cheat day, after all.

You pre-heat the "Convection" oven (Honestly just a fancy microwave), then flop it in as you prepare and clean for today, the "Do-Nothing-Bitches" making life hell for you as usual. Thankfully, it's a weekend shift and you're early, so you actually have a good chunk of time to eat, get everything ready and hold down the fort until back-up arrives... But, once again, a sort of lingering hatred of working in this place flares up when an hour goes by with no customers, only the sound of the machines humming and your phone & laptop charging keeping you company.

"What am I doing with myself?" you wonder as you try to look busy for... Shit, no one at all. Fuck.

>A. Send in your two-weeks notice. You need a change in your life, no matter how good the money is.

>B. Call up one of... Actually, use your phone to catch up on the crazy shit FightChan has been up to while you wait for a customer.

>C. Hold out until the other girl (Guy? Does the Paradiso have guys on staff again?) shows up, then make an excuse to leave early. (Roll 1d20)

>D. Write-In Vote.

I guess this is as good of a time as any to call time on the session. Thank you dear anon for participating, though I hope more show up tomorrow...

Anyway, expect this thread to resume by around 10 AM PST/ Noon EST and continue on into the wee hours.

Also, the current vote is still active and I'll be around for a little bit to answer any questions.
>B. Call up one of... Actually, use your phone to catch up on the crazy shit FightChan has been up to while you wait for a customer.
Thanks for running.

And archived because of course this quest is archived on sup/tg/:


No problem brave anon. May dreams of Katja dance around in your sleepy head tonight.
File: Spoiler Image (582 KB, 1044x899)
582 KB
582 KB PNG
OK, I'm back and will restart the session in around half an hour or so (In the middle of a big breakfast).


Writing for Option B unless others show up.
File: Spoiler Image (49 KB, 300x582)
49 KB
Ended up losing track of time talking to a friend.


>Updates Now resume
>You're still... You.

With the Cafe de Paradiso about as bustling as a city morgue (Scratch that, the morgue in South Town is actually pretty happening because of all of the damn street violence), you figure that you can catch some slack and grab your phone to catch up on all of the wild, crazy underground scenes in south town:

"Ah yes, FightChan on my phone... Can't forget that I'm here forever, after all."

You screw around with the browser tab, getting past the Cafe's "Firewall" to block out NSFW websites and take a look at the front page, Andrew Draco face's trying to be a forced meme (>"YOU CAN'T BREAK THE DRACO") following his win in yesterday's Real Bout tournament, a couple of meet-and-greets and get-togethers planned among FightChan's "Social" boards, a "Salt Bet" thread with over a thousand replies...

And a photo of a guy wearing the mask & top-hat that "Ghost" left behind after you had dealt with it, along with an explanation on who he is. "Here we go" you murmur, then find that the OP is that "/x/-Bro" that posted the detailed explanation on how to get rid of ghosts (That actually fucking worked, holy shit) talking about an encounter with a being that called himself "G-Mantle" before disappearing in... "A bouquet of Roses? The Fuck?"

Before you can read more, what looks like a highschool baseball team rolls in and kicks off a balls-to-the-wall rush that lasts until 1 PM. Even worse, is that your second (Alexis) no-showed on you. "She's gonna get it from the boss" you think as you finally get a chance to clock out for 45 Minutes and go for lunch.

>A. Get a quick lunch at that Mexican place just down the street.

>B. Make something and read up on "The G-Mantle" on the back patio.

>C. Call up the bosses and tell them you're going to have to close early. (Roll 1d20)

>D. Write-In Vote.
>A. Get a quick lunch at that Mexican place just down the street.
A nice change of pace.

You let out a weary sigh, your body feeling a little bit better than this morning but still pretty beat-up from yesterday's extensive training and Real Bout fights, then look down at your phone and glare at the image of the artist rendering of "G-Mantle"... Then hear your stomach rumble.

"Eh, creepypastas can wait. I'm hungry."

With that, you get some tasty chimichangas from the Mexican place down the street and take your sweet time getting back to work. "Serious, what the fuck Alex? She needs to get her shit together" you think as you clock back in, the little-seen boss of this dump seemingly filling in.

"Hey Paulie... No word on Alex huh?"

He shakes his head "No". "I'm sorry you had work by yourself today..." he tells you in a sad-sack kind of voice, then looks around before diving into one of his pockets to hand you a manila envelope. "Take this. It's on me."

You Paulie him suspiciously, not knowing what to expect. He's a fat, glasses-wearing nerd who's somehow the third generation of a local crime family and half of the time uses this place as a front to launder money... Yet, if he REALLY wanted to do that right they should've made this place a pizza parlor instead of some fake-ass yuppie paradise advertising organic foods while using commercial produce...

You finally take the damn thing and tuck into your back pocket before getting back to work and half-cleaning things up while you've got a lull in the day.

"You're not going to look?"

"Why? It's bad form" you reply. You've dealt with enough gangster shit through "The Wind" to know about how to take money you aren't sure is 100% "Clean". Paulie looks at you funny for half a second, but snaps back to putting on his "Customers are here!" look as... Goddamn it, it's that Red-Head "Talent Agent" from The South Town Wresling Federation, "Fiona".

>A. Tell Paulie you need to talk to Fiona outside. If she's here, there's a reason behind it.

>B. Try to be nice and professional to Fiona. Who knows, maybe she's just here as a customer?

>C. Ask Paulie if you can get off of work early and GTFO of there. (Roll 1d20)

>D. Write-In Vote.
>B. Try to be nice and professional to Fiona. Who knows, maybe she's just here as a customer?
Be nice first then a dick if they deserve it.
File: Spoiler Image (1.26 MB, 700x1000)
1.26 MB
1.26 MB PNG

Fiona Graves... She's got a nice look to her. Big Red hair, muscle, and... Well, everything really. She called you last week about a job offer to join the SWF's new "Women's Division" after you beat up on their linchpin "Tsunami Tsuyako" at a Real Bout while wearing the costume Tatsuya-Sensei brought for you.

"If she's here, it ain't to chit-chat"[/i you think as you catch Paulie eyeing her up. God, he can be such a pig sometimes... Hell, you started dressing butch just to keep him from leering at you half the time you were on the job when you first started. Then, he started fucking with the air conditioning and making you and all the other girls sweat... Well, until you threatened to call up the contract labor board on his ass and get the place shut down.

"Hey Paul, you're lookin' kind of thirsty" you say, Fiona getting a sly smirk on her face as Paulie flubs something before getting a bottle of water from under the counter. "Hey there. What can I get for you?"

Fiona looks up the menu. then replies with something that sounds like "Blue Lagoon Smoothie" in that odd accent of hers (Eastern European? Scandinavia?), then takes a seat up at the counter.

"One sec" you say, your mind on auto-pilot while getting everything ready (Rasberries, Blueberries, a dollop of Vanilla ice cream and some juice). "How's the talent search going?"

Fiona lets out a laugh, her hair flowing around everywhere. "Lousy. No one we've interviewed in the last week was able to pass the physical."

"Are they still going for eye-candy, or what?"

"Heh... At first, yeah. But now we're trying to find enough talent to get the division started" Fiona explains, raising her voice to try and let you hear her over the sound of the blender.

"Too bad" you reply while handing the sweet concoction to her, adding "That'll be $5 sweetie."

Fiona flips out a $20 bill at you like it was a throwing knife, an odd tension in the air all of a sudden...

>A. "So really, why are you here Fiona?"

>B. "Look, if it's about Tsuyako's arm..."

>C. Ask her if she wants to take this outside, or what her problem is. (Roll 1d20)

>D. Write-In Vote.
>A. "So really, why are you here Fiona?"
Good taste, Weasel.
File: Spoiler Image (881 KB, 848x1200)
881 KB
881 KB PNG

"So really, why are you here Fiona?" you ask with a hushed tone of voice.

Fiona takes a sip of the smoothie, her face making some kind of half-pout before slamming the cup on the counter. "What the hell do you think I'm here for?" she growls, Paulie saying something like "I'll... Start on counting the till" as an excuse to get of the room.

"I told, you I'm not really interested in-"

"-Listen you little fuckstick, that stunt you pulled with Tsuyako's arm cost the company a chance to book a inter-promotional show in Metro City and make SERIOUS money. Company-Saving/b] money" Fiona explains with a mean glare.

"I didn't break her damn arm, Fiona."

"You might as well have! There's so many complications from the bruising that she's going to be out of action for at least 3 months" Fiona clarifies for you. "And if the King of Fighters tournament actually happens, we're going out two fighters because Roy's knee isn't getting any better and no one else is returning our calls..."

There's a pause between the two of you, and you're not quite sure if you should hop over the other side of the counter and try to drag her out of here... Before Fiona clears her throat.

"If this were a year ago, the company wouldn't really mind all that much OK? This kind of thing has happened before and our roster is deep enough that it normally wouldn't be a problem... But..."

"But ?"

"They were planning to re-launch in May with the SWF's first real Pay-Per-View event and part of that plan was having a match for the newly-created Women's Title" Fiona adds.

"And I threw a wrench into that plan, huh?"

"You royally fucked over that plan, yes" She coldly replies.

>A. "OK, fair enough. But you still haven't answered why you're here."

>B. Ask her what she wants you to do about it.

>C. Tell her "Oh well, sucks to be you. See you never" and try to escort her out of the door (Roll 1d20)

>D. Write-In Vote.
>A. "OK, fair enough. But you still haven't answered why you're here."
>B. Ask her what she wants you to do about it.
Sorry about that but he knew the risks of fighting.

"OK, fair enough... But you still haven't answered why you're here."

Fiona's eyes narrow at you, but you hold up a hand to try and calm her down. "What do you want me to do about it? I'm sorry about what I did, really... But she knew the risks behind fighting me when all I wanted to do was spar with her. You want to rake me over the coals for her mistake?"

"No... No, you're right." Fiona finally admits with gritted teeth. "But..."

"No buts. What do you want me to do?"

Fiona lets out a long breath, then gets down on to one knee and... "Aw shit, she's not going to...?"

"Please... We need your help. I need your help on this" she says, grasping at a hand. "You wouldn't even have to work full-time. Just until Tsuyako can get back on her feet."

"You need to fill out a King of Fighters team quick, right?" you ask, gears in your mind turning.

"Maybe... There's one person I haven't had a chance to call, but again I can't make that decision. Only the higher-ups can decide who gets on our team or not."

"So... It would be for what, 3 months?"


"And that's..."

"Two shows a week at the most, one a week guaranteed" Fiona quickly adds.

"TV time?"

"Also guaranteed. SWF really want to push their Women & Cruiserweights to counter the CWF's fascination big guys that look like deadwood in the ring" Fiona adds before getting back up, a slight blush on her face while dusting off her knees and skirt.

"CWF?" "I didn't know that old fed was still around" you hear yourself say while looking around the Cafe. "God, it's so tempting but... Shit, what would Tatsuya think? Or Ellie?"

"Yeah... You've heard of them?"

You nod. "My dad was friends with Raiden and scored tickets to a couple of the CWA/SNKW shows when I was a wee lass."

Fiona has a look of hope on her face that's... Kind of lovely, actually. Reminds you of yourself when you were young and full of the wonders of life.

>A. Accept, but demand that because it's only going to be a 3 month gig, you want creative control over your gimmick; You know enough about wrestling that you're not going to be portrayed as some random hoochie-mama or some shit (Roll 2d20).

>B. Decline and ask her to leave the premises.

>C. Tell you need to talk some people and get your schedules cleared up before you can think about accepting her offer.

>D. Write-In Vote.
>C. Tell you need to talk some people and get your schedules cleared up before you can think about accepting her offer.
Play it smart, close some loopholes, and have a backup plan.
Bathroom Break. Sorry for the delayed reply.


You can't deny that it's a tempting offer. You're a fan of "The Business" and kind of know enough about how things work on the inside of Pro-Wrestling to not act like a clueless kid from bum-fuck nowhere or have one of those "IT'S REAL TO ME DAMN IT!" moments... But, between work at the Cafe & Dojo lessons with Tatsuya (Oh god, that's right, you've got to go in and work with him tomorrow), you don't really have any time for frivolous pursuits like 'wrasslin'...

"I'dunno... I've got a ton of things to work out before I can say 'Yes' or 'No' " you admit. "I'm either working or training six days a week and do both twice a week."

"Wow..." is all Fiona says.

"Yeah... I'll try to get back to you quick about it though."

The hope in Fiona's face seems to drain away when you said that, that >"You can actually see where her heart breaks!" meme playing in your head and trying to make you laugh. "I'll hold that to you." She finally says, then walks out the door.

"Send a bunch of your clowns to try and make me sign, I'll beat'em all up" you think while you look for Paulie to try and explain what went down between the two of you. Sure enough, you find him in the back room he calls an "Office" actually counting out the receipts for today.

"You really did a Thousand-Dollar day?" he asks when he spots you walk in.

"Yeah... I got lucky up until my lunch break" you reply, then switch gears. "So... About that girl..."

"Hey, it's between the two of you. I don't want to hear about it unless you've got gangsters attacking the store again"

"Wrestlers this time maybe, but nah, I think I can handle it" you tell him, feeling bad about that one time "The Wind" got you involved in one of his group's turf wars.

"I've got to say, you've got good taste though."

>A. "EXCUSE me?"

>B. "Paulie, I'm not gay."

>C. 'Nah... She's too bossy for me."

>D. Write-In Vote.
>C. 'Nah... She's too bossy for me."
Maybe later on.
My friends ("Team Jerkass") decided to show up and talk shit. Sorry for the lost track of time!


Part of you wants to strangle Paulie's fat neck for even suggesting that you're gay... Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it only highlights why nobody likes him or why he's stuck running a place like this instead of "Real" gangster shit.

Still, you've been here for almost... 3 years now? And that reference is gold if you want to get a gig after this, so you simply reply "Nah... She's too bossy for me."

Paulie chuckles, then says something you've never thought possible: "Take the rest of the day off Kat."

You raise an eyebrow at that. "Is he hurtin' that bad to send me home early?"

"What? You do a tough job keeping everybody else together and you worked all morning by yourself. You earned it" he adds.

You shrug, give him a "Thanks boss" and clock out. "Kay... Now what?" you think as you flip your phone back on and check the time. "2:22 PM... What was that about repeating digits that's good for you?" you think, but shrug it off and read through the rest of the "G-Mantle" thread on FightChan. Sadly, it devolved into shit-posting and dank memes about roses (His "calling Card") so you close it out and try to figure out what to do with your free time...

>A. Hit the gym. No pain, no gain... Plus, you need to try and get your body ready for Tatsuya's lessons tomorrow.

>B. Head home and take a walk through your property. It calms you down.

>C. Check up with Dave down at "Advanced Vehicle Systems" and see what he's up to.

>D. Write-In Vote.

>E. Go down to the arcade and give that racing game that makes your eyes almost bleed another try. Especially since you started that new file.
>A. Hit the gym. No pain, no gain... Plus, you need to try and get your body ready for Tatsuya's lessons tomorrow.
Time to get natty.
File: YT5NZ.gif (108 KB, 752x360)
108 KB
108 KB GIF

You feel the aches and burning pain in your joints as you wheel out of the Cafe de Paradiso's parking lot. Most people would probably drive home, or head to a Turkish bath or something to try and ease it, but for you it's like a challenge, a benchmark to match or even break.

So, you head back home, slip into your gym gear and head into South Town itself to hit up your stuck-in-the-1980s gym filled with machines and weights tailor-made for fighters like yourself. You take about half an hour to stretch in the locker room after that long drive, the pain slowly but surely fading away by the end of your warm-ups. "OK... Let's go!"

You strut out to the main floor of the gym, a couple of glances going your way on account of your shapely body and your necessarily-tight clothes. you don't mind it though; You worked hard to get what you have and as long as nobody's trying to make a deal about it, why should you?

"Right... What to focus on today..."

>A. Striking

[blue>B. Grappling[/blue]

>C. Cardio

>D. Defense

>E. All of the above (Roll 3d20)
>B. Grappling
I would roll but the dice hate me. ;_;

Though you have a background in Judo, you've been neglecting focusing on pure grappling arts lately. Because Tatsuya-Sensei has been training you in Kyokugen Karate, you've mainly focused on striking and changing your offense to move away from "Set up a grab" to "Pound him into the ground and grab when he/she blocks". Truthfully, you haven't minded it all that much. But between fighting Tsunami Tsuyako and that one cowgirl yesterday, your grappling arts need some polishing before they get rusty.

So, you head towards a small ring the gym has for boxing and look for the heaviest bag you can find... Ultimately settling on a 150 lb one (Just under your body weight), slide into the ring and start to throw down. It's trickier than you thought and at first, it takes a little bit before you get a firm grip on the bag. Soon enough, you get the hang of throwing it around the ring, doing alternate sets of 10 of a given throw each (Cycling between the "Ippon Seoinage", the "Uchimata" and the set-up for your "Stun-Gun Stinger") before a quick rest.

You continue this cycle of throws for about an hour and a half, sweat beads forming on your face by the time you're done and your whole body feeling spent... "At least they all meant something" you think as you go to put the bag back where you found and break to the lockers to shower and change.

However, you notice that a heavy-set woman is standing in front of you, a stern look on her face. "Hi... Can I talk with you for a moment?"

You shrug. "Sure. What's up?"

She gets a look on her face that suggests what she's about to say is uncomfortable for both of you. Unfortunately for you, it is. "If you haven't noticed or read the signs,this gym is a safe space for all walks of life and gender to enjoy feeling fit and getting healthier. However... The outfits you've worn for the last month, as well as the one you have on today, are problematic and causing a great disturbance in our space, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Goddamn it, I knew this gym was too good to be true. Fucking Tumblr's invaded it now? Just fucking wonderful..."

>A. "Fine. Can I finish up and take a shower before I go, or what?"

[blue>B. "Why?"[/blue]

>C. "No."

>D. Write-in Vote
>B. "Why?"
I'm curious as well.

"Why?" you ask, genuinely curious as to why.

"Your breasts and your ass" the girl ("Cassandra", her name-tag says) bluntly replies.

"What about them?"

"They've been flaunted and pushed in my face and everyone else's in this gym, without a care in the world for the last month, that's why."

"I'm wearing spats and a sleeveless bodywear turtleneck that's actually pushing these" you pause to move your breasts around for a second "down and you're telling me I'm "Flaunting" them?" you argue.

You can just imagine Cassandra getting steam out of her ears at that last barb. Her face gets as she goes off on a rant that leaves you speechless:

"I don't know if this is a dude thing or because you'rel just THAT depraved, but how can anyone find a women that looks like you attractive? Such... Grotesque proportions and fetishism so blatantly paraded about with not even the slightest bit of subtlety or tact... Like, I love me a strong man with a sizable package, but I wouldn't go as far as to say Clark Steel, or Goro Daimon or even Shen Woo is the ideal look all men everywhere should strive to achieve."

"Fucking Tumblr ruining everything fun."

She pauses for dramatic effect and gives you a cue to walk away back to the lockers, but she waddles alongside of you to continue her spiel:

"And you want to know why? Because that's fucking disgusting, that's why! Having a dude who's sculpted his body was solely around an exaggerated jock is disturbing, just like having a woman like you, who's body is built around fetishy thighs/ass/tits is disgusting! Like, what went so wrong in your life that you think others being able to see outlined nipples in your work-out clothes is a good thing? Are you THAT sexually starved? Did you never grow out of your adolescent sex drive? Or did it get worse? You should grow some self respect because this is just pathetic and we're never letting you back in until you do!"

>A. "I want a refund of the dues I just paid and the last 2 months I have left on my contract then."

>B. Storm off without saying a word, then vent on FightChan about the bullshit you just heard.

>C. "You mad and jelly about 'mirin my figure girl? Because that's what it sounds like to me."

>D. Write-in Vote

>E. "You want take this outside bitch? Because that's what it sounds like to me."
>"I'm just expressing my natural sexuality. You should do that sometimes. It's not good to repress yourself. But whatever. I'll let you twigs and huff n' puffs work up a sweat."
>A. "I want a refund of the dues I just paid and the last 2 months I have left on my contract then."
File: kVTHV2j.jpg (216 KB, 1920x1080)
216 KB
216 KB JPG

By the time Cassandra's done ranting and raving, you've already showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes that mimic what you wore to work (Jeans, Running Shoes, a "Rockstar Glam"-like Belt and a tank-top that shoes off nearly zero cleavage) and stare her down. You've heard of types like her through FightChan, though you've fortunately never had to deal with people like her until now.

There's a thousand things you could yell and/or scream at her right this second, though you cool your jets and say "I'm just expressing my natural sexuality. You should do that sometimes. It's not good to repress yourself. But whatever. I'll let you twigs and huff n' puffs work up a sweat."

Cassandra looks at you incredulously, like she was expecting you to fly off the handle and give you a legitimate excuse to kick you ut and/or press charges.

"I'm not going to argue with you. This is a private business and you have the right to run it however you want" you further explain to break up the silent, sweat and B.O.-filled air... But not before adding "But I want a refund of the dues I just paid and the last 2 months I have left on my contract then."

Cassandra's "Poker-face" is truly awful, because it gives away her shock and realization at how much of a "Regular" you were here as you walk out of the locker room and go up to the front desk. You casually look around the place, taking in how much you're going to miss it and the machines that were all calibrated for King of Fighters hopefuls like yourself... Though, to be honest, you only started coming here because you had heard that Yuri Sakazaki, the daughter of the founder of Kyokugen Karate, teaches an aerobics class here.

"Too bad I never got to see her in person" you think as Cassandra huffs and puffs back up to the front desk, nearly knocking over some kind of tip-jar and taking a second to right it.

"The fuck... Donuts? They've got a bloody Donut Fund now?" you think as you watch her get the necessary paperwork needed to get your membership refunded.

"OK, sign on the doted line here, here & here. Then you'll get the money wired to your bank account within 24 hours" Cassandra tells you, venom in her voice at the mere fact you're still hanging around the gym.

You quickly sign on the doted lines and then...?

>A. Ask her about the "Donut Fund" jar.

>B. Tell "If you see Yuri Sakazaki, tell her I'm sorry for not going to one of her classes."

>C. Walk out, drive home and pick up some groceries; You want to actually make something yourself tonight.

>D. Write-In Vote.


I'm going on a dinner break with my dad. I should be back within an hour or two, but if not I'll post something.
>B. Tell "If you see Yuri Sakazaki, tell her I'm sorry for not going to one of her classes."
Have a good dinner.
My dad seems to be late, so I'll pop back in from dinner and /sp/-related shenanigans for more of The King of Fighters Quest: Reborn #7!


You think about making fun of the gym having a "Donut Fund" ([i]"Fine for Cheat Days, but all the time? Come on."[/i]), but hold your tongue. You'really not going to be back here for a while and who knows if one of the owners decides to overturn Cassandra and let you come back? [i]"Got to be professional about this... Can't give them rope to hang myself over."[/i]

"Hey, Cass... If you see Yuri Sakazaki-"

"Who's that?"

You mentally counter-top-palm at her remark, but fill her in out of the kindness of your heart. "Short Japanese girl with a ponytail? Does an aerobics class here?"

Cassandra paused, thinking things over for a second. "Doesn't ring any bells, sorry." You look down at the free poster the gym has been handing out and again force yourself from slamming your head into the counter-top. [I]"Bloody Christ, [b]SHE'S RIGHT FUCKING THERE YOU QUEEN OF SEACOWS![/b]"[/i]

"Right here mate" You reply, pointing to her name and photo while showing her the poster (But being careful not to press it in front of her or anything).

"Ooh... I don't work on those days, so I've never met her" Cassandra finally replies after adjusting her eyes to the poster.

[i]"How the hell do you know about Daimon, Woo & Clark fucking Steel, but not Yuri?"[/i] "Yeah... Well, if you see her, tell her I'm sorry for not going to one of her classes" you reply before slinging your gym bag over your shoulder and turning your back on the only gym you've ever really liked in South Town... Well, for now hopefully.

"Well shit, now what?" you rhetorically ask yourself when you sit down in you Porsche, dare to touch your MP3 player (No mean feat after yesterday's... "Incident") and zone out for a little bit as the strains of some 60's psychedelia rock.

[red]>A. Swing down by one of The Pao Pao Cafes to see if there's anything going down. You'really not in the mood to fight, but it's always fun to watch others throw down.[/red]

[blue]>B. See if you can call up an electrician to show up at your house tomorrow to fix the electricity, or at least survey how much damage was done.[/blue]

[green]>C. Get some groceries and head home; It's getting late and you have candles to light...[/green]

>D. Write-In Vote.

Hmmm... Weird that my color text didn't show up...
File: Spoiler Image (1.04 MB, 823x1169)
1.04 MB
1.04 MB JPG
Anybody else interested in this? Or should I call it a day? I've got Cheesecake.
File: img000016 (1).png (57 KB, 300x254)
57 KB
>Half an hour later
>No Replies
Sorry for the late reply. Internet was out.
>B. See if you can call up an electrician to show up at your house tomorrow to fix the electricity, or at least survey how much damage was done.

Awesome. I wanted to post a particular image to express how awesome you are for showing back up, but I couldn't find it.


You take a look at the sun slowly starting to set in the horizon (Out towards the bay) and grab your phone to try and rectify a pretty big problem you've had lately: No electricity thanks to that "Expert Ghost Hunter" that "The Wind" sent up to your house...

You quickly go online with your phone (Though not before seeing that "G-Mantle" thread had updated to include a recent sighting with details, so you bookmarked it) and look up electricians in the South Town area code, a few of them within driving distance of your "Old" gym... Unfortuantely, he highest-rated one "Help!.com" is already closed, so you call up the other one and hope for the best.

A couple of rings later and you get a live person on the other end. "Hello?"

"Yeah, is this Electric Co.?"

"Yeah... We're about to close though" the guy on the other end tells you sounding like his minds up in the clouds.

"Yeah, I know... Do you think I could get one of your electricians to give me an estimate on what I need repaired to my house?"

"Yeah, sure... What's the address?"

You tell him and he replies "Cool. We've got a guy available for you..."

"Can Noon or 1 PM work? I'm going to be out in the morning tomorrow" you ask.

"... Yeah, it should be fine."

"Thanks. What's the guy's name?"

"... Jorge? Or Emmit, I don't know" the guy on the other end says, again with that kind of "Spacey" lilt in his voice.

"Right... I'll see him then" you say before hanging up and driving out onto the expressway that leads back to your house, stopping at a local "Greasy Spoon" kind of dinner for a burger and some fries ("Cheat Day in full effect today": Besides, you earned it after not killing Cassandra back at the gym) before getting home at dusk.

"Home sweet home... Just hope I don't get any roses thrown at my feet" you think out loud while checking out everything inside ("Nothing stolen thank god!") and light some more candles.

>A. Movies & Chill? Movies & Chill.

>B. Do one last stretch before curling up with a good book to read in bed, by candlelight

>C. Shit-Post anonymously on FightChan about your gym.

>D. Write-In Vote
>C. Shit-Post anonymously on FightChan about your gym.
Best way to relax
File: Spoiler Image (291 KB, 800x1000)
291 KB
291 KB JPG

You fire up the trusty lap-top "The Wind" "Gifted" you after a gig went south and you kept everything together and casualties to the bare minimum and hit up ye olde FightChan, none of the main page "Popular threads" catching your eye so you hit the "/Fit/ - Fitness & Health" board to look for a thread about gym stories so you can rage anonymously about how you were treated at your gym today.

Right on top of the catalog ("Never going back to FightChan without the catalog") there's a thread that's exactly what you're looking for and immediately start typing up a SCATHING green-text story about it... But stop halfway through when you spot a candid picture of Fiona Graves and a story about her from some anon. Curious, you read on and aren't quite sure how to react:


Holy shit I know her, she goes to my gym. She's really nice, about the only girl that will spot you and isn't completely up her own ass. I'm honestly amazed by this because her and this dude had a cooking class going teaching people how to make /fit/ meals and she was always going up to fatasses in the gym and encouraging them. Pic related, lifted off her facebook.


"Huh... I guess even rough diamonds can sparkle sometimes." Intrigued , you read the follow-up post and again are surprised about the Fiona Graves you've dealt with compared to who anons are talking about:


I'll be honest, I'm lifting because of her.

Six months ago when I went to the gym as a fatass everything was really fucking hard and frustrating realizing how unfit I was. I was going to go home when she came over and offered me some water and said she was really impressed with me, then said "and I'm even more impressed that you're still carrying on with your workout, even though you look so tired! Come to the weekend cooking classes, we're doing tuna."

We both knew I was going to leave, but she made me stay and keep at it.


>A. Finish up your story while it's still fresh in your mind.

>B. Open up another tab and see what else is going on in a different part of FightChan (Write-In Boards encouraged with this vote, but please no "Pink Boards")

>C. Read more about the Fiona Graves you Don't know; These stories are great.

>D. Write-In Vote
>A. Finish up your story while it's still fresh in your mind.
Praise her a little bit more since she helps us get fit.
File: we're having doughnuts.png (565 KB, 1247x1071)
565 KB
565 KB PNG

As touching as it is to know that there's a real, honest person behind the facade Fiona Graves puts up (Not that there wasn't anyway, but you aren't surprised someone as muscular as her works at a gym along with her SWF commitments), you have to get this story done before the rage passes through you, so you start typing like you're the Fist of the North Star (Even hearing the "WATATATATATATATATA" with each keystroke) and hit "Post" on that motherfucker.

Satisfied with it, you link all of the posts about Fiona and type in simply this:


Fiona is the hero South Town needs.[/grren]


Before you know it, there's already five replies to your story, four of them memes you don't get (You're not that much of a ">/fit/izen")... But the fifth one has a Tumblr post showcasing the exact same "Donut Fund" jar and what it used to look like:


I know the place you're talking about Anon. I stopped going there last year, right before Christmas time. Pic Related is why.


Before you can respond though, somebody posted a pasta (Pic Related ~ That Damn Weasel) that has you in stitches. "Goddamn you guys my sides are in fucking orbit right now... Almost had me tearing up after that one."

>A. Look up some of the info on "G-Mantle" in that "X-Bro" thread you bookmarked earlier in the day.

>B. Open up another tab and see what else is going on in a different part of FightChan (Write-In Boards encouraged with this vote, but please no "Pink Boards")

>C. Read more about the Fiona Graves; You need motivation for tomorrow and dealing Tatsuya-Sensei.

>D. Write-In Vote

>E. Watch a Movie or an Anime from your backlog or something; Too much FightChan can rot the brain (Suggest a Movie and roll 1d100; Highest roll wins)
>C. Read more about the Fiona Graves; You need motivation for tomorrow and dealing Tatsuya-Sensei.
Fightchan only rots your brain if you shitpost too much and that's not a problem with us.

The replies die down from your story and go off into an off-topic discussion about censorship in modern-day life (Interesting, but not really you cup of tea) and read up on both of the stories anons have posted about Fiona Graves:


Here's a thing she did:

Here's a thing she did:

>Be struggling on the ellipticals, 300lbs hambeast
>Notice two hammies waddling in, judging by the way they dressed, they were female
>You can have one gym session free as a taster, to see if you like the gym
>Blue (she was a fat chick with tumblr-tier blue hair) got on a treadmill and started a brisk walking pace
>her fat friend plops down on a chair and pulls out a tube of pringles, eats it noisily
>Constantly complaining about how boring it is here
>Points at me and loudly says 'see, he's working out but still fat, I told you its all genetics!'
>Blue looks a bit upset but stays on and keeps walking
>Hammy is constantly complaining, just smacking her lips loudly and whining
>"Heya, you two alright?"
>Hammy looks over at Fiona and haughtily explains that Blue was trying to lose weight, going into full fat logic mode
>Fiona is smiling and nodding, agreeing with the fatty
>"Oh yeah I agree, genetics definitely plays a part in it. To be honest your friend is an idiot to drag you out here for nothing."
>Blue looks more and more upset, while Hammy, encouraged, starts bitching about her
>Fiona joins in and they both make fun of Blue for trying to lose weight
>"You know what, there's a really nice cafe down the road, why don't you go there and relax and I'll talk some sense into Blue? It's not fair that you've had to put up with her like this."
>Fatty gets up and hugs Hannah, wobbles off quite eagerly
>Fiona turns to Blue and crosses her arms, then demands "Why the fuck did you let us speak to you that way?"
>Blue looks shocked, gets off the treadmill and stammers something
>"Your friend there? She's toxic. Nobody should ever, EVER treat you like that. The first step to losing weight isn't hitting the treadmill, it's detoxing your life. Cutting out the bad food, bad people, cutting it all out. You don't need someone like that around, and if you're worried about being lonely, I'm your friend now."

Shit, too long of a post, hang on.


You honestly can't help but picture "Tsunami Tsuyako" as "Blue" from this story, not just because she's a big girl, but also because she looks (And it felt) like she knows how to keep fit.

File: 1447936829329.jpg (989 KB, 1285x1920)
989 KB
989 KB JPG


Blue looks really stunned, realizes what Fiona was trying to do
>Blue starts crying and Fiona actually tries to hug her, even though she's too damn fat for 99.9% of people out there to even fucking give a shot at it
>"Yeah, in a couple months remind me to do this right." She makes a joke about it, Blue smiles
>Fiona takes her to the weights and helps her get started with lifting, Blue is determined as fuck
>After about half an hour of Red lifting and taking breaks Hammy shows up
>Tries to get in but can't as she's not a member
>Calls for Fiona and Blue, asks them what the fuck they're doing from the edge of the gym cafe
>Fiona looks at Blue, and puts an arm on her shoulder for support
>"Good timing, I think Red here has something to say to you."
>"I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore. You're a horrible person and all you ever do is put me down to make yourself feel better. I don't need that in my life anymore."
>Fatty gets pissy as fuck, but Fiona pulls Blue back and tells her to keep working out
>Fatty not leaving, so Fiona walks up to her and actually fucking squares up to the bitch
>Her eyes have gone cold as fuck, she's staring down at the fatty like she's made of shit
>"Get the fuck away from my friend if you know what's best for you. If I so much as hear you've done or said anything to her from now on, I will make your life hell. Believe me, I'm damn good at it."
>Fiona looked legit terrifying, all the more so because of her stature and figure
>Fatty goes quiet and actually leaves, mumbles something
>Blue and Fiona are still friends
>Blue has dropped a good deal of weight and Fiona set her up with this 6'4ft kickboxing instructor
>They've been dating for a month now and seem pretty happy


"Goddamn... she really is a hero, huh?" you think, feeling something in your spirit swell up with... Something. It's a good something, whatever it is, so you continue reading more crazy stories (Not just Fiona's) and before you know it, the buzzer on your phone's going off, signalling it's time to hit the hay in case Tatsuya-Sensei gets the rest of the Dojo together and knocks down your door to roust your ass up.

"Fat chance of that. I'm like two hours away from the dojo without any traffic and live on a mountain that's nearly 2,500 ft." You stifle a yawn, bookmark the thread for tomorrow (You started to nod off about a story involving Fiona helping out the kind of "Cardio Bunny" you used to be in Middleschool) and drift off to sleep.


You woke up the next morning feeling rested and ready for anything, visions of you and Fiona clad in high-fantasy "Barbarian Bimbo Armor" battling back-to-back against increasingly-strange beasts seemed to calm you down as Tatsuya Sensei drills you on doing a thousand punches.

>Roll 1d20; Best of the first 3 rolls submitted count
Rolled 16 (1d20)


>Your striking level has increased to Level 1!
>Add a +1 Modifier on certain combat rolls!

You admire the woodland scenery around you (Tatsuya-Sensei dragged all of you out here in some park you've never been to today because of a roach problem back at the dojo) and let your mind go blank, the sound of the air being cut by your arms all you can hear until Tatsuya signals for the rest of you to stop.

"Good! Now let's do some kicks" he says, then you go through the same routine of a thousand reps, except with your legs. Again, your mind empties and all you can see are your master showing you how to landing a standing "Hard" kick with each leg, your limbs battering the wind away from your feet with each repetition.

Tatsuya-Sensei looks pleased at all of you when you get through the last two kicks. "Alright, alright... Good job out there! Let's do some stretches, then gear up for a run to lunch alright?" he orders. It takes about half an hour to go through them all and even though you've been taking this class for nearly... "Shit, 6 months already? Time Flies.", you're never ceased to be amazed at how flexible Tatsuya-Sensei is, especially since he looks like a Sumo Wrestler trying to cosplay as Ryo Sakazaki (The only son of Takuma and one of the heirs of The Kykugenryu Art of Fighting)...

Soon enough, you and the rest of the class (Avery too, looking cute as a button to your eyes today) start following Tatsuya-Sensei's car on a run to... Somewhere for lunch.

"Hope it's good food... Probably just going to be a place that serves Buckwheat Soba."

However, you feel your legs start to cramp up and begin to fall behind the rest of the class, the leg Kasumi Todoh caught during the last Real Bout you were in hurting the most.

"Damn it all! Not now!..." you think, dreading to have to explain what you did on Friday...

>Roll 1d20
Rolled 18 (1d20)

File: e7b8.jpg (22 KB, 640x362)
22 KB

"No... Not like this. Not here, not now" you think as you fall back through the group and lag behind. Something inside of you flicks on like a light switch and... You just do it. You force yourself to stay moving, to keep going, to put one foot in front of the other and goddamn it, you refuse to let this cramp get to you.

You have to fight the pain from advancing as you hustle to catch up to the tail end of the rest of the class, tears streaming down your eyes, your mind filled with every cuss word in the book and your mouth too busy inhaling and exhaling to say any of them. You keep up with the tail of the class, keeping on with business at hand until you arrive at some kind of "Dim-Sum" Chinese place on the outskirts of Chinatown in the "Central City" district.

It takes all of your might not to double over and curl into a ball over the pain in your legs and keep up appearances... Avery isn't fooled by it though.

"Hey, are you arlight Katja?"

"... No" you quietly reply, the waterworks flowing as you slowly use a lamppost just outside the front entrance of the noodle shop ("Of course he's going to serve us Buckwheat Soba. It's practically Kyokugen tradition at this point.") to collapse neatly onto the ground.

Avery yells for Tatsuya to take a look at you while you go to work on stretching your legs.

"Damn Kat, what happened?"

"I'dunno... Might've pulled something" you lie.

Tatsuya nods and gets down on his knees to steady you while you stretch out your legs some more, telling Avery "Go ahead and order us some food. I'll be here for a little bit."

"Buckwheat Soba Noodles, right?"

Tatsuya nods and you start to feel the pain subside a bit, though any relief "So come on, what did you do to wreck your legs like this?"

>A. "I really don't know what's going on Sensei. I was fine yesterday doing Grapple training and stuff." (Roll 1d20)

>B. Admit the truth and tell him how your last "Friday Night Real Bout" went.

>C."I think I just overdid it on my running and striking on Friday Sensei" (Roll 1d20)

>D. Write-in Vote.


Alright, that'll do it for today. Thanks for participating anon! It really means a lot to me.

Same as today, I expect to resume this thread by around 10 AM PST/ Noon EST tomorrow and continue until it starts to auto-sage.

Also, the current vote is still active and I'll be up for a little bit to answer any questions about the lore/setting/MC/Extra Cast etc. etc.
>C."I think I just overdid it on my running and striking on Friday Sensei" (Roll 1d20)
Thank you for running. It was fun.
Rolled 1 (1d20)

What a bitter end for this run. ;_;
File: yu.png (176 KB, 251x292)
176 KB
176 KB PNG

Thanks. That's the best response I can get.

>Nat 1

Wellp, that's going to be fun to start up with tomorrow... Also, your rolls were great on the ones that mattered, Anon.
File: Spoiler Image (1.03 MB, 991x1403)
1.03 MB
1.03 MB JPG
OK, I'm up and will resume this session within an hour.


Writing for Option C unless others show up and change that.
Good morning
Be gentle. ;_;

Oh come on Anon! I'm not nearly the cruel, heartless QM I was when I first started out...


>Updates Resume

Every time you even look at Tatsuya-Sensei, you're overtaken a feeling of awe. He's a man who was taught in the ways of Kyokugen Karate by Ryo Sakazaki himself, was tipped by everyone in the Kyokugenryu organization to possibly become one of a "Next Generation" of practitioners (That never amounted to much, in the end), cleaned out the streets of several cities across the United States and abroad as part of his training... But chose to "Go home and be a family man" on the cusp of greatness and nurture the growth of his only daughter, Ellie, into the fine young woman she is today.

"OK, got to sell this just right... Sensei is a pretty laid-back kind of guy, but heaven knows what he'll do to me if he sees through this." You look at him square in the eye and explain "I think I just overdid it on my running and striking on Friday Sensei."

You try to smile and scratch the back of your head to really sell how sorry you are about all of the trouble and what a scene you've caused... But of course, Tatsuya-Sensei is able to cut through your bullshit like a laser beam.

"Why do you always try to lie to me Kat? You should know by now that it doesn't work" is all he says before getting up off the ground to go inside, leaving you to your own devices to try and stand up. "Shit, he's pissed..."

It takes some doing, but you get to your feet and clamber inside, the aromas of the larger than you expected shop welcome to your senses. You take an open seat at the very front of a long table, everybody else joking around and chatting to keep morale up about the grueling challenges Tatsuya-Sensei has planned ahead. Soon, what seems like every waiter in the place starts serving bowls of Buckwheat Soba ("The cornerstone of Kyokugenryu's diet plan!", the manuscript Sensei read to you all had said) and Tatsuya commences lunch with a simple "Alright, dig in."

You look around and see that everybody has a bowl ready and is chowing down... Except you. "Fuck me, Sensei's gone fucking NUCLEAR over me..."

You've been around the dojo long enough to see him do this to other students and are aware that asking for a bowl of your own, or even offering to pay for one only makes it worse... But damn, you never expected to have pissed of Tatsuya-Sensei enough to have him deny you lunch like this. You mercifully get through watching others eat and wallow in self-pity at the predicament you've found yourself in, though Tatsuya-Sensei offers a shred of help after ignoring you throughout the course of the meal.

"How's the leg? You think you can run with it?"

You get up and walk around a little bit outside of the noodle shop, your calf muscles burning hotter that South Town around the 4th of July. "Nah mate, I think I'm done on running today..."


Tatsuya-Sensei shrugs, then asks Avery to come over and shoulder you into his car while the rest of the students have to jog behind the two of you. There's an awkward air of tension between the two of you, rushing air from the side windows and the noise of Tatsuya's car the only things breaking the silence.

"You fought in Real Bout again, didn't you?"

You nod. "I had a lot of rage built up inside of me and... Well... I over did it."

A long pause. You don't like it when Tatsuya takes a moment to think. "Did you win?"

"4th place" you admit, adding "But I beat Kasumi Todoh."

"Oh? Well good for you. Yuri Sakazaki has a 7-1 record on her" he replies.

"Sensei, I'm sor-"

"Don't try to apologize to me with words" he says, cutting you off. "Good & Evil can be seen. Words don't matter to me."

"I'm royally fucked out of this class, aren't I? And I'll probably go right into the slammer too since Ellie set this whole thing up..."

>A. Quit being so negative! Try to be positive about yourself today!(Roll 1d20)

>B. Let your silence try to speak louder than words.

>C. "Sensei... I know this is not the best of times to ask, but I've got an offer to join up with a wrestling company... do you think I should take it?"

>D. Write-In Vote

>E. Ask Tatsuya to drop you off somewhere; You don't feel like riding with him right now.
Rolled 16 (1d20)

>A. Quit being so negative! Try to be positive about yourself today!(Roll 1d20)
>C. "Sensei... I know this is not the best of times to ask, but I've got an offer to join up with a wrestling company... do you think I should take it?"

You shake your head, the wind blowing through your hair as Tatsuya picks up the pace a little bit (To the dismay of the rest of the class). What's with you the last few days? Nothing but negative thoughts, negative energy flowig through you and colorig all of your actions... You gotta be more positive about life! You got 4th place in two straight Real Bouts, one o which you entered in a blind rage and didn't really prepare for outside of your costume... Plus, you're making good money from doing braindead work at the Cafe and you've got options.

"speaking of which..."

You're starting to feel a little better, or at least enough to ask Tatsuya-Sensei a tough question: "Sensei... I know this is not the best of times to ask, but I've got an offer to join up with a wrestling company... Do you think I should take it?"

Tatsuya mulls it over, then takes a look in his rear-view mirror and yells "Come on! Pick up the pace a little! It's only 6 more Km's back to the Dojo!"

You smile a little. It's weird, but you always feel more comfortable when Tatsuya's barking orders at you and the rest of the class, or making you do some insane training drills while giving out gold nuggets of wisdom instead of just hanging out with him and Ellie at his house or something...

Finally, he sheds a little light on your question. "I don't know... I thought Adam was an idiot for taking it up, but he came out alright and Ryo came out on top of the one Buriki-One tournament he entered..."

"I just feel like I could need a change of pace... I haven't been all that thrilled with work and figured that I could give them my two weeks notice and transition into it or something" you admit.

"How long is it for?"

"3 months. I kind of owe them too, because I bruised one of their top talent's arms in a sparring match that went over the line" you explain.

Tatsuya shrugs. "If you really want to do it, I'll talk to Ellie and see if you can get a reprieve."

You nod, your stomach sounding making those strangled cat noises you're always embarrassed of. "Should've just gotten something at that noodles place, because I'm starting to get a headache." "Thanks, Sensei."

"No problem" he says, adding "You can take off when we get back to the park."

"Really? Thanks."

With that, the rest of your morning went by pretty smoothly. You drove back to that noodle shop in Chinatown, got some Udon and some chicken and drove back up to your house, a truck with the logo for "Electric Co." parked in your driveway and a average-looking guy waiting for you.

>A. "I'm screwed, aren't I?"

>B. Let him tell you what's wrong and hope that you can coax "The Wind" to pay for it.

>C. Introduce yourself, ask him what's up and prepare to yell and scream at "The Wind" over his incompetence.

>D. Write-In Vote.
>B. Let him tell you what's wrong and hope that you can coax "The Wind" to pay for it.
Early lunch. Sorry for the delay.


You hop out of your car and take a look around.

"Hi, I'm Emmit" he finally says.

"Katja" you plainly state. "What's the 4-1-1?"

You can tell by his body language that it's not going to be good news. You hate that you can read people like that sometimes, because all it does is set you up for disappointment. "You're house's electrical systems are totally fried... You're going to have to get somebody out here and replace and rewire everything."

"Thought so... Kazahaya, you better hope you're sister kills you before I do." "I thought so... That was a nasty power surge."

"I've never seen this kind of damage on somebody's house though" Emmit replies, adding "You usually see this on transformers, or powerlines..."

"How much would that cost me? To get it all fixed?"

Emmit takes a moment to do the math in his head, then says "At least 4 figures" with a sigh.

"Time to call in that favor or two..." "I'll... Get back you guys on that. How much do I owe you for today?"

Emmit shrugs. "It didn't take long to go over everything your house had so... $65?"

"Bloody hell, that's a racket I wished I got in on when I was in college" "Here you go" you reply, handing him the money out of your pockets before waving him off, a forced smile on your face that doesn't leave until he's well and gone.

"Fuck..." you let out with a sigh as you unpack your stuff inside, looking over the cozy little (OK, not-so-little) cabin you sunk every last penny you made street fighting into. "Goddamn, I love living here but it's so bloody hard sometimes... At least that kid didn't blow the roof off the old place, because I'd have had Kaz's hide by now."

You get your phone and call a number that's not found in any phone book and desperately hope that the self-crowned "King of the Underworld" picks up. Luck's on your side today though, because you can hear him loud and clear:

"He~ey... what's goin' down?"

"My electricity bill" you joke.

"You got it hooked back up yet?"

"Nah... Damn electricians charge an arm and a leg for that shit."

"Too bad. It must get dark up there on the hill huh?"

"Kaz, come on, you got to help me with this" you plead, a dark tone starting to inflect your voice.

"You said to Bao yourself that "Things are just things" and your spiritual health means more to you" he counters, something you don't want to know about going on in the background.

>A. "You're damn lucky I didn't rip that kid's throat out with my bare hands."

>B. "Kazahaya, please, help me out on this. I sunk my life savings into my cabin; I don't have the money to fix it or rent an apartment again in the city." (Roll 1d20)

>C. Tell him in no uncertain terms that if he doesn't fix your house, you're going to bust his gang into little tiny pieces (Roll 2d20)

>D. Write-In Vote.
Rolled 15 (1d20)

>B. "Kazahaya, please, help me out on this. I sunk my life savings into my cabin; I don't have the money to fix it or rent an apartment again in the city." (Roll 1d20)
File: Spoiler Image (92 KB, 419x810)
92 KB

Even though he's known in and around South Town for being a shrewd businessman and a ruthless gangster, Kazunori Kazahaya seems to have a soft-spot for you. Maybe it's all of those wins he bet on while you were working the underground fight club scene... Maybe he really is into you after all?

Whatever the case, you know you've got at least two favors from him that you haven't collected yet, so you clear your throat and try to deliver a better line than you did to Tatsuya-Sensei earlier:

"Kazahaya, please, help me out on this. I sunk my life savings into my cabin; I don't have the money to fix it or rent an apartment again in the city."

He takes a long pause, some unspeakable act of violence going on in the background ('Probably lit a guy on fire again from the screams") before he finally cracks. "OK, OK, you got me. I'll help you."

"Thank you, really-"

"-But we're square after this, OK? Unless you want to get your hands dirty for me again, I owe you nothing" he cuts in with.

"What about the bill I had to cover from that bar with my winnings? Or the time I kept your dumbasses from "The Waifus" dying when that raid went bad? Plus, you still haven't paid off Paulie for the damage that one turf war he had nothing involved with did to the Cafe...."

Another sigh. You can almost imagine Kazahaya doing that weird near-horizontal head-tilt before he replies "I know, I know... But electricians aren't cheap you know? Look, how much damage did Bao even do?"

"That little fucker... He fried every fusebox and outlet. The guy I had over today told me the entire house's interior is going to have to be taken apart and the whole cabin is going to have to be rewired" you calmly explain.

"Oooooohhh... Damn, that's fuckin' rough, man. Heath Robinson rough."

"Try living with it."

"Yeah... OK, yeah, I'll still owe one after this, but why not move into one my places downtown while the work's going on? On me, of course" Kazahaya offers, the sound of a high-pressure fire hose or something going off on his end.

>A."And turn into a crimson-colored stain on the carpet for your maids to clean up? No thanks."

>B. "I'll think about it... I'll need some your "

>C. "OK, sure. When can I start to pack up my stuff?"

>D. Write-In Vote.
>C. "OK, sure. When can I start to pack up my stuff?"
>"But no funny business, okay?"
We can defend ourselves.

It's a hard choice, having to leave the peace and quiet you busted your ass for to go back into South Town, the city that STILL makes the Bronx Burrogh in New York City look like Smurf Fucking Village at times... But you can't really stay at the cabin if you've got a couple of electricians and drywall guys working on the place all the time, can you?

"OK, sure. When can I start to pack my stuff?" you ask, not quite sure if this is the right thing to do or not.

"Whenever you like. Like I said, I've got a couple of places downtown I don't really use anymore unless shit's really goin' down" Kazahaya replies. "Just give me a time-frame and a schedule and I can work around it."

"Cool... Cool... But no funny business, okay?"

Kazahaya laughs. "Girl, I owe too much to you to try and fuck you over, over something like this."

"Well, that's good to know." You hear the phone go dead, the distorted screams you heard on his line sticking in the back of your mind for a moment too long. On one hand, it's good to know that Kaz has his swagger back a little; The last time you met him face-to-face he was hiding underneath a table in the back of some Chinese place from his own gang.

On the other hand... "I should probably act nicer for a little bit. If he finds his balls and decides that me living and carrying around all of his dirty little secrets is too much work to deal with..."

You linger on that thought and get shivers up and down your spine. Just like Ellie told you the night South Town nearly burned down, you can't escape your past.

>A. Hop back in your car and take a drive out to... Somewhere. You've got a wanderlust in you today for some reason.

>B. Stay in and stretch a little bit to keep you limber, maybe start packing up your stuff again. You're too tired to go anywhere, that's for sure.

>C. Hit the town and go clubbing. You haven't done it in a while and it's not like you're in any condition to train.

>D. Write-In Vote
>C. Hit the town and go clubbing. You haven't done it in a while and it's not like you're in any condition to train.
Time to get drunk, dance, have a one-night stand and regret it in the morning.
File: 57192152_p0.png (429 KB, 1500x780)
429 KB
429 KB PNG
The words are just taking more time to come to me today Anon. I apologize for my lack of update pace today.


You rotate your arms and shoulders, feeling a little stiffness but not enough to be worried about. Your legs, on the other hand, don't feel like they're up to much in the way of training or anything, so you're at a loss for how to kill a few hours before the sun starts to go down...

You sigh, then start to pack up your things, taking care to fold everything neatly and into well-marked Suitcases & "Rollers" until you come across an old outfit you haven't worn in a while: Some kind of backless halter top with lapels, some hip-huggers and two pair of cute high-heels you bought from some boutique store that shortly went out of business.

You stare at them, bits and pieces of the rant from that bridge troll of a woman at your old fitness ringing in your ears... Then think of the reply you gave her to shut her down cold and get an idea in your head: "I'm going out tonight. I deserve it."

You shower, the cold water actually feeling good on your skin for a change and "Doll" yourself up, taking more time than usual to get your make-up just right after you slip into that outfit (And go with Red/Black/White heels to better match your work sneakers/driving shoes)... But pause to consider where you should go? Hell, with all of the raids the crooked cops in the South Town Police Department have been doing, are there any clubs left outside of the fight-oriented ones?

>A. Either one of The Pao Pao Cafes. You can watch other people fight and that's always fun.

>B. "La Illusion", the bar that a KOF Regular (And female fighting icon) runs.

>C. "The King's Court", the old-school dance club located in the roughest part of South Town.

>D. Write-In Vote.

>E. Just go out and walk around the city for a little bit. What could go wrong?
>C. "The King's Court", the old-school dance club located in the roughest part of South Town.
Nothing adventure nothing gain.

"The Pao Paos are fight clubs and I'm not in the mood to fight... La Illusion is more of a Bar & Grill than a place you can dance at..."

You think it over and over, running through where you could go while tapping your fingernails on the leather steering wheel of the "Slant-Nose" Porsche your father (God rest his soul) left you... And in the end, settle on driving to a place you've only been in with Kazahaya and the rest of his "Waifus": Port Downtown.

The seediest part of an already seedy city (No matter how many "Cleaner Image" campaigns happen), Port Downtown is a wretched hive of scum and villainy just down the way from the bustling docks of Port Town proper (Including the carrier "The Guardian"). If you've got a body that needs to be dumped, a drug deal that needs to go down, stuff to be smuggled or shit to hit a fan, Port Downtown is the logical place to do it. Why Real Bout regular "Duck King" decided to relaunch his "King's Court" club here, you will never know, but judging from the retro-chic decor, the strobe lights, techno and clientele... You don't know why you're here.

Until you hit the bar. THEN you remember why you came here, because by your third beer (Stella Artois, cheaper here than anywhere else in town) you've got a definite "Buzz" going. "Wonder who's DJ'ing tonight, because this sounds like the shit Kazahaya would play..."

>A. Get up and dance around. You've got the feeling that you need to get the vibe out there that you're you, you're fucking awesome and you will beat the shit out of anybody that grabs your tits or ass. (Roll 2d20)

>B. Take a look around and see if anybody else sitting around the bar catches your eye, then order them a drink. (Roll 1d20)

>C. Just people watch a little bit and try to groove to the music while keeping your balance on the bar stool.

>D. Write-In Vote.
Rolled 4 (1d20)

>B. Take a look around and see if anybody else sitting around the bar catches your eye, then order them a drink. (Roll 1d20)
Well, fudge. No one-night stand this time.
At least we get to drink.

You take a quick look around the small bar area, your eyes trying to get a good look at somebody to buddy up with and maybe even do something a little more in private... Unfortunately, you don't really see anyone that catches your eye; Seems like everybody here is either too old, or too young, or with dyed hair (As FightChan has drilled into, stay away from girls or guys with dyed hair), or so gay-looking they couldn't possibly interested in you... Or interested in them.

"Fuck it, need more beer" you hazily think while ordering one more glass of Stella, the room looking like it's spinning all around you as you sit on the stool up at the bar. Halfway through the fourth beer you feel pretty "Loose" and up to dance, but it takes all of you limited concentration to keep your balance and feel something gag in the back of your throat.

"Bashroom?" you ask the bartender. He ("? Man, I'm havin' beer goggles early tonight!") points to his right and you follow, nearly doubling over the sink as you start heaving up... Nothing at all? "The fuuuuck...?"

You stare down at the sink for a second or two, then get yourself back up and walk out onto the dance floor, a "Slow" jam going. "Sounds like stuff Kaz would play awright... Maybe Duck King got too hurt to attend after Real Bout?"

>A. Damn it, start dancing already! It's what you came here to do, after all. Just make it clear that you're into (Roll 2d20)

>B. Take another look around, this time focusing on the dance floor. Who knows, you might find somebody cute. (Roll 1d20)

>C. Try to find your spot and just zone out for a little bit. Maybe somebody'll notice you and buy you a drink? (Roll 1d20)

>D. Write-In Vote

>E. Call Kazahaya to get somebody to collect your car and call a cab home; Tonight was a bust.
Rolled 9 (1d20)

>C. Try to find your spot and just zone out for a little bit. Maybe somebody will notice you and buy you a drink? (Roll 1d20)
We can't give up just yet.
Someone else join in and roll, please.
Rolls hate me today.

You try not to stumble back up to the bar, your spot from before occupied some blonde guy with hair and clothes that suggest that he's stepped out a time-warp from the 1970's or something... Cute face though. You're digging the big sideburns too. He eyes you up and you smile, giving him your patened "Sexy" wink... Though unfortunately, instead of trying to chat with you he sips his drink (Vodka Martini, it looks like) and walks away.

"Damn it all! WHY WON'T ANYONE TRY TO FUCK ME TONIGHT!?" Your vision feels a little blurry, but you make another look around the bar and the dance floor, the guys & girls you thought were too this, too that looking better and better by the minute...

"Gah... Why'd my beer goggles set in so quick? I used to pound'em down before it got this bad" you think as you try to put on your best "Come Hither" look to try and entice somebody, hell ANYBODY at the bar to notice you... Shit, just a conversation would be nice! You've been here for what feels like two hours now and nobody's even given you a second glance, not counting the 70's guy.

But of course, you don't get any takers. 3 songs after you start to give off "The Vibe" even! Hell, you probably look like somebody trying to parody the look you want to put out there... "Am I really not that sexy after all? Am I doomed to become a robot?"

>A. Fuck it, you're dancing. NOW. You don't even care if you fall over on the now-glowing floor. (Roll 1d20)

>B. Bask in your gloominess and start to get the "Philosopher Drunk" thing your friends in college always said you did going.

>C. Order one more beer and go out in a blaze of glory. You're drinking to forget tonight.:_;

>D. Write-In Vote

>E. Call Kazahaya to get one of "The Waifus" to collect your car, then call a cab home; Tonight sucked and you need sleep.
>B. Bask in your gloominess and start to get the "Philosopher Drunk" thing your friends in college always said you did going.
Will our words catch someone? Also it sounds like the most fun.
Internet went down where I was at. Apologies for the delay.


In the time you've started going to bars and drinking alcohol, you've noticed that there are different... "Stages" to being inebriated. There's the slight buzz, the tipsy, full-on drunk, three sheets to the wind... And where you feel like you're at now: "Philosopher Drunk".

You're still coherent in your speech patterns that others can understand you, your mind hasn't descended into complete madness... but, you're open

"Hey, barkeep" you start, not waiting for him to respond. "You ever wonder'bout the dark?"

"Dark what?" he asks.

"The fear of the dark, mate" you clarify. "That deep, primal instinct to avoid shadows is really imprinted in'all our psyches, innit? 'Specially when we're all little tykes."

The bartender cleans out glasses, shaking his head. You don't notice and continue on.

"I'dunno, I guesh I'm thinkin' 'bout it because my house's electrics got all fucked up a few days ago... But that one, that fear's like, the first one you and I have t'learn t'overcome right? As we grow up, we don't run t'a light as soon as we turn
another off do we? No! We slowly, almost Shirley stop needin' t'have a lamp on t'sleep, right? And then the fear fades away into nothingness as we all mature..."

You seem to have an audience now as a couple of "Hipster" guys and girls stop to hear you speaking about something as crazy as this. "That's the way it's supposed to be... But all of us in this club know that ain't true, innat right?"

The bartender shakes his head again. "You sound like the professor I had in college, girl."

"Which one? The Badassh with th'bling?"

"Yeah... A little bit" he replies before taking an order and mixing a cocktail with dazzling precision, giving you an chance to get to the gist of your ramblings.

"But that fear never fades, does it? It'll linger, it might fade... Y'might even stuff it'n'the back of yer'ead, but it's still there. You turn the lights off in 'yer house and fer'a split second y'need to remind yourself that bein' scared of the dark is "Silly"n"Immature", that th'shadows dancin' 'round on 'yer curtains are just from the trees outside 'yer window, that the weird shit y'see swirlin' in the darkest parts of 'yer bedroom is just 'yer eyes adjustin' to the darkness... That you think 'yer safe... But 'yer not safe, are ya'? Y'don't feel safe, do ya'?"

The group listening to you seems a little uncomfortable at what you're saying, though it's caught the attention of that 70's guy with the sideburns, so you try to wrap it up quickly as the DJ even seems to be in on it, playing some moody electro sounds.

"The lights ar'all gone, y'can't see 'fer shit and y'can't help but feel like there's somethin' watchin' ya', just out of yer' reach. And then everything fades as soon as you turn on a light. And y'tell yourself "Ah, it's just your mind playin' on you" and try to go back t'sleep..."


"Damn, I've got'em hook, line and sinker... Not bad for a pasta I liked."

You can tell that the DJ's in on the conversation with yourself because now somebody's turned on a fog machine to really amp up the "Too Spooky!" atmosphere.

"So, I wonder... What if the shadows we all see in the dark, all of those "Figments of our Imagination"... Are kept as such by our own disbelief of them? And since our disbelief of them isn't absolute, we see these images, these shapes, these attempts to get us to doubt our very selves... To break down the gap between "Us" and whatever "Them" might be..."

You let a sly grin form on your face as you close with something you Sensei said to you when you first talked to him about your "Poltergeist" problem: "Of course, my best mate always said "If you can't punch a ghost, you aren't tryin' hard enough!"

That gets a laugh and the DJ segues into "Thriller", the room spinning again. It's a good feeling this time though.


Going on "Stand-By Mode Anon(s?) I'll be back ASAP.
I'm here. Nice story.
File: Spoiler Image (337 KB, 700x700)
337 KB
337 KB PNG

Thanks. OK, back online any ready to finish this update.


The spinning subsides when the 70's-looking guy shows up in your peripherals and puts a hand on your shoulder. "What in the bloody fuck?"

You feel a chill down your spine, though you can't tell from what as the 70's guy finally decides to talk to you. "That was cute" he says, then slips a laminated business card down your chest. You can kind of see it nestling it in your cleavage, but hear him say "If you want to talk, or get some coffee, give me a ring."

You watch him grab and put on big coat you've only seen guys of a certain age wear while walking out of the club, something a little contemporary-sounding blasting (Some >["Wub-Wub-Wub Intensifies"] shit) to get the patrons back on the dance floor... Which leaves you thinking "How... What... Who the fuck was that guy?"

Whatever he did to you, it cleared your mind enough to get some cognitive thoughts again and you look at the card he gave you: Something black, almost sinister-looking with a name and a number in white letters on the back of it.

"Jean-Claude Gabriel... That is the most pretentious name I've ever read" you think, then take a look around and again feel like this place just isn't your kind of scene.

>A. Dance. Now. Whatever that Jean guy did to you, you need to dance it off. (Roll 1d20)

>B. Call Jean up. What could go wrong?

>C. Call Kazahaya to get one of his crew to collect your car, then get a cab ride home; You need sleep.

>D. Write-In Vote
>C. Call Kazahaya to get one of his crew to collect your car, then get a cab ride home; You need sleep.
We can call him later in the day.

You're wide awake now and can't believe that it's just now 10:00 PM looking at your phone; It feels like you got here much, much earlier than that... "Christ on a bike, what do he do to me?"

The noise level is getting to be a little much for you as the DJ starts building up to a "Drop", so you head for the little girl's room and call up Kazahaya, again hoping he'll answer. Though he does, all you can make out is him yelling "That was a cool story there! I'm up in the control room!" before the line goes dead and he starts texting you directions to reach him.

"Heh, I thought that was him playing that "Dreamwave" stuff" you think while navigating the maze-like structure behind the main room/bar area, eventually climbing up a set of stairs and reaching a red, windowless door with a "CAUTION: RESTRICTED AREA: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY" sign. You knock on the door and yell "Come on ya' git, let me in!" in a cheery tone of voice.

The door sounds like it's a pressurized bank vault or something as it hisses open, the faint hum and beats you heard walking around the back and up the steps a little bit clearer to you as you walk inside. Kazahaya slaps some skin on you as the door closes, again reminding you of a bank vault or even an atomic bomb shelter

"Whatcha'doin' here on a Monday night?"

"Ah, Duck hurt his hand at Real Bout last Friday and since the set-up he uses here requires two working hands to really get anything out of it, he asked me to fill in" Kazahaya explains, moving his hand back at the two turntable and a fuck-ton of switches monstrosity behind him.

"Damn, that thing's enormous."

"Yeah... I kind of like it though. It's about as analogue as a snyth can get and every time you use it, the sound is just a little tiny bit different and even the weather or the heat can change how it produces different sounds" Kaz adds, his inner audiophile flaring up.

"Custom job?"

He nods as the two of you go back to the console. "I mean, there's a couple other cats that have something like this, but nobody is crazy enough to hook it up and use it every day at a club for ambient noises and remixes the way Duck did... So! What's up?"

"I'm too drunk to drive home and I don't want to leave my car in a neighborhood this bad" you truthfully tell him. "Can you get one of your guys to collect my car?"

"Did somebody ban Uber in South Town again, or what?"

"On strike" you reply.

Kazahaya takes a minute to make a "Hot Mix" and somehow takes a generic "Wubstep" trash and segue it into motherfucking Earth, Wind & Fire, then turns around to you with a swiveling roller-chair. "I'll call a guy up for you."

"Thanks mate."

>A. Remind him that you want a ride back to your cabin in the deep, dark woods.

>B. Tell him you want to crash at the "New Digs".

>C. Skip to the next day hung-over and vaguely remembering what happened (Roll 1d20)

>D. Write-In Vote.

/qst/ forgot my picture.
>B. Tell him you want to crash at the "New Digs".
File: Spoiler Image (211 KB, 500x325)
211 KB
211 KB PNG

"Hey, I hate to ask, but do you think I could crash at the new digs tonight?"

"What, afraid of the dark?" Kazahaya asks with a chuckle, then straightens his expression out when you give him a "Are you fukkin' serious mate?" look. "Come on Katja, you really think I would do that to you after you said what you said out there?"

"Mate, I was just reheating an old story I read online and liked" you freely admit.

"You got to read more books girl. The Internet's gonna fry your mind."

"Says the guy who bought his last apartment just to turn it into a private library?"

"Hey, don't knock me for collecting first editions. You'd be amazed at how some of them are going up in price" Kazahaya retorts. "The penthouse I've got downtown is nice and clean for you; I'm in the middle of renting out and renovating the old beach house I had north of here."

"Sounds good" you say while letting out a yawn.

"And my ace driver's here; He's waiting downstairs to meet you."

"Thanks love. I'll see you around" you tell him, blowing him a kiss half-ironically that he catches without even looking at you as he gets back into manning the controls of "The King's Court's" sound systems.

"What a paradox... If he wasn't a crook, I'd probably date the fucker and love'n'hate every minute." You quickly go through the complicated directions again and get back to the dance floor in what felt like no time at all, some guy in a suit and... A face-obscuring Luchador's mask holding up a sign for you like you were getting off of a flight at the airport; Kazahaya's crew of "Waifus" never ceases to amaze you.

You wave at him and greet him down by the bar. "My Car's outside mate... And can you really see through that thing?"

He nods, then escorts you out of "The King's Court" like you were his date for the night. You don't complain though, because you're really feeling the burn in your legs from going out when you get your car.

"Well, it's another bar story I guess. At least he's cordial." "You've got directions on where we're going, yeah?"

He nods before putting it into gear and navigating the pothole-strewn streets of Port Downtown. You had quite a bitch of a time avoiding most of them, but this guy seems to be an "Ace" driver for a reason; He's smooth and measured with every gearshift and deft dodge of an errant pothole or pedestrian.

"You talk? Or are you the strong & silent type?"

You get a "Maybe" kind of shake from his wrist before he shifts up a gear and sretches your Porsche's legs on the highway, the wind hitting you and giving you shivers up and down your body.

>A. "Where'd you learn to drive like this? You ever wanted to go pro?"

>B. "Where do you go for a gym? I'm lookin' around for a new one and you're looking strong mate."

>C. "If I take off your mask, would it hurt?"

>D. Write-In Vote.
>B. "Where do you go for a gym? I'm lookin' around for a new one and you're looking strong mate."

You hope to god that Lucha-Driver doesn't notice your chest getting a pair of noticeable bumps as the wind buffets around your seat. "75 MPH? Come on mate, you're playing with fire when it comes to South Town's highway patrol"[.i]

"Where do you go for a gym? I'm lookin' around for a new one and you're looking strong mate" you half-ask, half-yell as he finally backs off the accelerator and coasts your car down to around 60-65 MPH.

He takes a hand off the wheel to shift back down a gear to match the speed he's going and hands you the third business card you've gotten in two weeks and the second one given to you tonight alone. "Ah, of course, it's Fiona's gym... I'll call them tomorrow after I check my bank account."

"Yeah? I've heard about that place. The girl they've got there is supposed to be a real firecracker" you tell him as he seems to be lookig for the right off-ramp. "You know she works for the SWF?"

Lucha-Driver nods, then casually starts moving over to the far right lane and drives off the highway and into the residential area near "Sound Beach" on East Island. "Fuck me, that went quick."

"Do you work for them?" you ask when you get to a stoplight.

Another shake of his wrist... Either this guy is old as dirt and respects the art of "Kayfabe" or he's just somebody that's too embarrassed just wearing the mask to try and talk to you. Either way, his reluctance to speak is almost kind of impressive.

"OK, I'll stop buggin' ya" you tell him with what you think is a cute pout as the light turns green and your chauffeur guns it, again giving the impression that he wants to get the cops on your asses... Fortunately, it's a short drive from where you were to the tall, imposing building Kazahaya's "Penthouse" is in and you get a tap on the shoulder to help you from nodding off.

Lucha-Driver makes a gesture with his hands to show that the two of you have arrived and you're quick to hop out of the car and stretch your legs, Lucha-Driver probably ogling you in silence while soft round parts of your anatomy sway underneath your clothes.

"Go ahead, get a look... I can't think of anyone outside of King's Court that hasn't" you think before grabbing your gym bag & lap-top case, thankful thankful that you're still half-awake to admire the inside of just the lobby alone of this building. Once more, Lucha-Driver taps you on the shoulder and leads you and a door man up to "Your" room... Which is unique, at least. It's got a bit of an influence from the mansion from the movie "Scarface", but with a Hong Kong-feel to the decor.

>A. Dare to dream on Kazahaya's big, fluffy bed.

>B. Wake up he next morning hung-over and vaguely remembering what happened last night. (Roll 1d20)

>C. Start stripping down and do your laundry; You've got to work tomorrow and classes in the afternoon, so you can't get away with having stanky clothes.

>D. Write-In Vote
>C. Start stripping down and do your laundry; You've got to work tomorrow and classes in the afternoon, so you can't get away with having stanky clothes.
Can't have people thinking we're a bum.
File: showsoverfolks.jpg (181 KB, 640x441)
181 KB
181 KB JPG

While you love the countryside and generally don't miss living in South Town all that much, there are undeniable advantages to city living. Having enough electricity running through your fusebox to run a washing machine, clothes and hair dryer at the same time without blowing out a circuit is a plus. Especially when trying to run either of those things shuts off EVERYTHING at your house due to the surge in power...

So, you tell the not-as-big-as-you-thought Lucha-Driver to "Put my bags in the laundry room; I need to get them done now before I pass out."

Lucha-Driver shrugs and follows you around a bit as you take a look at how much of a happening bachelor's pad the place is, the Red & Black color of the living room giving way to a couple of other places that catch your eye before finding where "The Wind" cleans his chonies.

"Just anywhere in here is great mate" you tell your chauffeur/attendant while being absent-minded and stripping down to your panties in front of him, even emptying out your pants & jeans pockets before noticing you're down to your "Do Me!" pair of black nylon "Nothings"... Before you realize what the holy fuck you just did, you hear a low rumble of a chuckle and find Lucha-Driver turning his back on you, his arms crossed.

"Fuck mate, I'm sorry" you sheepishly tell him. "I'm kind of burnt out tonight, so pardon me for bein' an airhead... Thank you for all of this though. I mean it."

You kind of feel like you overstepped your apology over nothing a little bit, but the Luchadore shrugs his shoulders and leaves without saying a word... Yet, you can't quite shake the feeling like you've met him somewhere else before. Maybe you saw him unmasked or something?

"Whatever... It's late, I'm naked, I'm alone and I have to do laundry. Let's rock."

God, you love the convenience of home washers and dryers, you really do. Especially since you've been paying up to $11 each time you've had to have wash your clothes because South Town is full of shady, greedy business owners willing to fleece honest citizens.

It's nearly midnight by the time you drift of to sleep, naked under Kaz's bed sheets and linens because you left your pajamas (Along with the rest of your clothes) back at the cabin... Though, you also liked to sleep naked up at the cabin for a little bit until you read one-too-many creepypastas about "Ayy Lamaos" and some secret, shadowy syndicate called NESTS.

"What a night... What a day..."

>A. DreamTime? DreamTime.

>B. Wake up the next morning hung-over and only vaguely remembering what happened last night. (Roll 1d20)

>C. Write-In Vote


And that's it for today's session! I hope that this quest doesn't die while I'm sleeping, but if it does I'll start up a new thread tomorrow @ 10 AM PST/1 PM EST.

If this thread's still up, then the session will continue until we hit the dreaded "Auto-Sage". Also, the vote is active and I'll be up to answer any questions.
>A. DreamTime? DreamTime.
Thanks for running!

Thank for you participating Anon! Any feedback about it so far? (I know, I know, let me guess: "Not Enough Fighting."
For me, it's fine. Fighting will be good later on.

Should I type out Short bios of the rest of the cast of Original Characters, or is it OK to just let bridges be bridges until they're crossed?
Bios would be great. They seem like interesting characters.

Cool... Pastebin the Bios? Or post them here and THEN Pastebin?
Pastebin, please.
File: 1457288430974.png (665 KB, 443x590)
665 KB
665 KB PNG

Right then, I know what I'll be doing tonight... Thanks anon.

>A. DreamTime? DreamTime.

It's nice to see you running again Weasel.
File: Spoiler Image (364 KB, 800x800)
364 KB
364 KB PNG
Sorry for the later-than expected restart. I had a late night. I also lost all of the bios I had planned to post, so I'll be working on them in between updates.


Great to see you back G.


>Updates Resume

>You are now entering the world of DreamTime

You find yourself sitting up at a bar with a guy that vaguely resembles Dave, the guy you know from that garage up in South Town's "Bay Area" and from , some soft rock playing on am old jukebox. Judging by the stuff on the wall, this seems like it's a place where servicemen in the military hang out and on a second glance both of you are wearing matching uniforms and have clearly seen some kind of "Action".

"Okay, MAYBE that wasn't the best of ideas, Hartkern. But you're going to have to fall a few times if you're going to make some headway. I mean, what the hell do you do? You just stand there with this worried look on your face and sweat a whole lot. You should probably have a medic check into that or something; That can't be normal."

You nod and take a sip of your drink (Some kind of weird, blue cocktail that sometimes seems to disappear in the right light) before letting out a sigh. "Yeah I know. I've been feeling just as guilty as you are lately, but unlike you I managed to down a few drinks and work up the courage to admit it. It seemed like a good idea at the time. You know, "Maybe Angel won't go into full autismal rage when I come clean with her!" So I confess, I spill my guts to this girl, and like a fork in a light socket she fucking lights up like she caught Drake making dead Mama jokes."

"What? You sayin' it's all my fault or something?" "Dave" asks you. "Man, fuck you dude. I'm perfectly capable of handling myself; I took down a 60-strong cell of a Korean syndicate for Christ's sake. We would have made it off that wall if you hadn't gone all Red Hulk on us... Okay yes, I understand that the crazy Asian fucker was breaking body parts, but that's something you need to learn, Kat ol' buddy. Self-control, that is. You can't be a real warrior if you start pissing your pants the moment Sinhsuke Nakamura starts swinging sharp objects at your throat. You gotta Tai Chi the situation, feel the flow... And of course beat her psychotic sister's girlfriend in a wrestling match in front of the whole platoon."

>A. "You wanna go mate? I'll rip yer' bloody arse if you say that kind of shit t'me." (Roll 2d20)

>B. "Maybe..."

>C. "Save my spot at the bar; I gotta take a leak."

>D. Write-In Vote.

>E. Just fucking kiss "Dave" already.(Roll 1d20)
Rolled 12 (1d20)


>E. Just fucking kiss "Dave" already.(Roll 1d20)

Secret option is secret.

You take a look at the guy across from you, see the look on his face as he downs another beer... And something inside of you, something you never thought you had, forces you to grab him close and plant a kiss on his loveable mug. His eyes belie the shock of you flat-out kissing him, because you can feel something nice and hard starting to move around in his pants. It's when you get greedy and start to slip him some tongue (Enough that you think that you can actually see it pop out of his right earlobe) that he starts to push you away.

"Kat... Stop" he says after taking a breath.


"Everything about this is just... Wrong."

"Come the fuck on Dave, you know you like me. I've seen you take glances at me across the room just when I'm adjusting my combat suit, or when you "Accidentally" barge into my room while I'm changing."

Dave gets a weird look, one you can't really describe, as he swallows the rest of his beer. "I'm not like other guys, Kat."

"How so?"

"I'm just... Different."

"Dave... I know for a fact you aren't gay."

"Never said I was..." he mumbles, then takes a look around the bar before whispering "Fuck it, follow me outside. I'll show you."

You raise an eyebrow, but down the rest of your drink and take a few minutes to compose yourself after Dave walks out of the bar. When you step out it, you see that you are, in fact, on an airforce base of some sort and turn around to see Dave leaning his back up against the wall of "Aileron".

"Took you long enough... Follow me."

Even though you aren't quite sure it's the right thing to do, you follow Dave around the base, eventually finding yourself in an old, abandoned.

"Kiss me" he firmly states, arms crossed.

You shrug and do as he says, that special something

"I wouldn't do that" is all you hear before a gigantic boxing glove on a spring pops out of his pants and socks you in the stomach.

You can kind of hear Dave yell "TOOOOOLLLLLLLDDDDDD YOOOOOOOUUUUU!!!" as you blast through the roof of the old storage shed and ascend upward, eventually rocketing out of the atmosphere while passing by a long checklist of >"TOLD" memes (">FUCKING TOLD", ">BONE TOLD CORPUS CHRISTIE", ">TOLD YELLER", ">I AIN’T SAYIN SHE A TOLD DIGGER
& ">TOLD LIKE A BITCH" sticking out to you).

Eventually, you crash-land into a small, moon like planet's crater in a cloud of dust.

"The fuck? There's oxygen on this rock, what the bloody shit."

>A. Jump back down to the Planet you were one with a fist outstretched; NOBODY sucker-punches you like that! (Roll 3d20)

>B. Explore this "Moon" and see what you can find.

>C. Yell for an SOS and see if somebody picks you up. (Roll 1d20)

>D. Write-In Vote.

>E. Start eating the moon. (Roll 3d20)
Rolled 17 (1d20)


>C. Yell for an SOS and see if somebody picks you up. (Roll 1d20)
Rolled 6 (1d20)

>C. Yell for an SOS and see if somebody picks you up. (Roll 1d20)
Welcome back.
"Team Jerkass" arrived and tried to ruin my day, then the internet cut out where I was at again... I think "The Curse" has found out that I'm QM'ing again and is extracting revenge for all of the stupid mistakes I made with the original KOF Quest.


Part of your heart hurts as you crawl out of the crater you made. Part of you burns with anger (And something else...) at how you can never, ever seem to score with anyone boy or girl (Not that you even like girls, but fucking'A you'll take one that this point)... And it's enough to push you over the edge of your personal breaking point.

You feel your body starting to get that "Powered-Up" glow, some rocks and dirt floating around you as you take a huge breath and scream:


You nearly collapse from the effort that mighty roar, nearly choking on the dust swirling around... But, when you look up to see a blimp flying towards you, searchlights beaming down onto the surface. You wave at and in moments you find yourself in a hospital, your body being connected to a wall of machines through wires and an oxygen mask over your face.

"What the hell you were thinking?" a disembodied voice asks you. "You nearly jeopardized the mission."

"S... Sorry sir" you hear yourself wearily say... Except you don't feel your lips move.

"You should know by now that "Sorry" doesn't cut it" the other voice tells you. "With any other of our agents we would've turned you loose and let you die with all of the rest that try to oppose us. Keep that in mind the next time you make a foolish mistake."

You close your eyes, your breath heavy and muffled by your mask as everything goes dark, a stereotypical "Flat-Line" noise ringing in your ears before a bright light harshly wakes you up. "Christ, what time is it?" you hear yourself ask, again not feeling your lips moving as you groggily get up out of a casket and put on a reversible robe with an inside that looks like a million eyes.

It's oddly peaceful being surrounded by a vast space of nothingness, you feet stepping down onto a grid of black lines... "A spacing chart?"

You hear a loud explosion erupt from behind you and feel the presence of a powerful aura, one that makes your skin crawl and your hair stand up on end as the "Flight" part of your brain kick-starts and has you hop away from a small-ish ball of flaming Ki.

When the smoke clears, you can see... "Oh good lord, that outfit is just stupid." "Fiona, why are you dressed up like a little girl's bike?"

Fiona snorts at you derisively, then conjures up a microphone out of thin air and takes a deep breath.

File: Spoiler Image (52 KB, 624x388)
52 KB
>New Thread theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d5vvIc3-Kik



Some cheesy face paint starts to glow as some even cheesier theme music starts piping in from nowhere in particular as "Ultima continues to rant and rave like a lunatic.


>A. Mimic her hand motion, get a microphone and craft a comeback (Write-Ins encouraged, but not required with this vote)

>B. Shake your head and walk away from this trainwreck waiting to happen.

>C. Wordlessly attack "Ultima". (Roll 2d20+1)

>D. Write-In Vote.

>E. Activate "It". (Roll 3d20)

>A. Mimic her hand motion, get a microphone and craft a comeback (Write-Ins encouraged, but not required with this vote)

"Wrestling's fake."
>A. Mimic her hand motion, get a microphone and craft a comeback (Write-Ins encouraged, but not required with this vote)
Nice theme.

"So the universe is telling me to wrestle... OK then."

You coldly look at her, some kind of spray or cooking oil all over "Ultima's" body to really highlight her muscles, the tassles she's got on her leg-warmers and armbands blowing in the wind even though you can't feel anything like that... Then mimic her hand motion to get a microphone of your own and tap it a few times while clearing your throat.

"Ultima, enough is ENOUGH. How much more do you want from me? First, you take away my title... Then you bring out this idiot Tsuyako. And let me tell ya... As I was sitting in the shower with the cold water flowing over my head and the blood circling the drain... I started thinking a little bit about what "Big Black Thunder" was."

Some kind of skin-tight leotard and leggings start to form around you as you speak, a mask forming around your face that looks like the one that "Lucha-Driver" had on, even though can't actually see it.

"Well Big Black Thunder is an entertaining monster. Big Black Thunder is a pretty damn good story-teller. Big Black Thunder is one tough Son Of a Bee, and Big Black Thunder is one heck of a fighter. So it saddens me to say that after the beating you and your little-big girlfriend gave me, one thing Big Black Thunder is not... Is ready to face you in a Handicap fight on Monday night."

A ring forms around the two of you now, something white with gold ropes and a gigantic ladder going up into the heavens as it almost feels like your body's twitching, changing, evolving even...

"The two of you are, without a doubt, godesses of the ring. The two of you are without a doubt the strongest faction in the game right now. And Big Black Thunder is in some ways, as you said, nothing more than a beaten up and pathetic fool... But I think the fans deserve a substitute in that skirmish. What I'm gonna do, Dreamwave Reborn, is I'm gonna name that substitute. In fact, I think you know the girl...."

"What's... Happening to me?"

Your body is definitely changing. The soft curves you had harden, the "Cut" of your arms deepen, your limbs swell and there's a energy coursing through your veins that you've never felt before as you rip off your mask, your "Mind's Eye" telling you that you're skin's gotten darker and your face doesn't even look like "You" aymore...

>New Thread Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xrSH0G8kBo

"AND I THINK YOU KNOW'ER PRETTY DAMN WELL! 'Er name is Katja Hartkern! And her first official act in wrasslin' is this!"

You dash forward so fast it almost feels like teleportation as Ultima seems to panic and throws out a huge projectile that reminds you of Tatsuya-Sensei's "Haou Shokou Ken". You expertly dodge it though and hit a "Stun-Gun Stinger" that slows down time, freezes-frames and repeats the point of impact three times before feeling "Normal" again.

>"Stun-Gun Stinger Time!" Roll 1d100 to see how many you can land; The first three rolls count
Rolled 21 (1d100)


Quit tempting us with visions of the other Katja Weasel.
Rolled 47 (1d100)

File: Spoiler Image (342 KB, 600x800)
342 KB
342 KB PNG

"Fuck yeah! I feel like Devilman stomping these bitches into the curb!"

You rise up off the canvass, your body having spasms and a wild glare in your eyes as you spot "Tsunami Tsuyako" in an impossibly small outfit slide into the ring. Before she can even defend herself you're on her and hit a "Stun-Gun Stinger" on her... "Fuck me, she's a tough nut to crack" Seeing that she's still standing after that, you give another one with a bolt of electricity going through her to finally put her down as more tough-looking guys and girls start to make their way into the ring.

You "See Red" and start yelling, screaming and laughing as you try to "Stun-Gun Stinger" everyone last one of them, a guy with a Southern-fried accent giving play-by-play of what you're doing all you can hear:


You can feel the hits you're taking a little more now and are starting to lose some steam as the others try to overwhelm you, but you manage to get a couple more out there while talking on the microphone you dropped and picked back up.


You're breathing heavily now, struggling to stay upright as the angry mob trying to take you down subsides a little to tend to some of the wounded all around you. "So many... Jesus Christ..." "IF YOU THINK OLD KATJA HARTKERN 'ERE IS KAWAII GIVE ME A HELL YEAH!" you yell, then feel a punch to your gut that doubles you over.

You feel your breath escape your body as you slump down to the ground, looking up to see Ellie standing above you in her full "Skullgirl" gear (Or the one you've seen her wear lately, anyway)... And start to cry when she takes your hand, helps you up and gives you a hug (Which is something Ellie very rarely ever does and never to you).

>A. Smile, then Ryuuko Ranbuu her ass. (Roll 3d20)

>B. "I'm so fucking sorry mate."

>C. "Someday... I'll overcome you without malice."

>D. Write-In Vote.

>E. Wake Up.
>E. Wake Up.

>E. Wake Up.

Well, that escalated quickly. We need to get our shit together and talk it out with Ellie.
File: 1428158597407.jpg (62 KB, 1584x1194)
62 KB

>The DreamTime has passed

You wake up in the impossibly comfy bed you passed out on in Kazahaya's "Penthouse" hugging on a pillow. Your eyes strain to focus as you look around, your head pounding as you sit up. Just the sound of you yawning has your ears ring and make everything in the world is out to kill you, so you grab your phone and call up Paulie from the Cafe De Paradiso.

"Hey Paulie... It's Katja" you half-slur, half-mumble. "I'm not feeling so good, so you're going to have to get somebody else to cover my shift."

You pause, stifling another yawn. "Thanks" you add before hanging up and flopping back on the bed with the kind of "Pomf!" sound you've seen on FightChan.

"What happened to my iron liver and unbeatable drinking method?" you idly think while waiting for the room to stop spinning, closing your eyes to help the feeling of nausea pass. "This almost as bad as last time I went out..."

You clamber out of bed and take a long, hot, steamy shower, then turn on the cold water for a minute to actually wake up and dry yourself off. "Jesus, this bathroom's bigger than my kitchen... And that tub looks like it's built for orgies or something."

You grab a robe from the top shelf and put it n, then fix some toast for a quick bite and to see if anything comes back up... Your stomach seems to gurgle in protest, but nothing else really happens so you grab a bottle of water that probably costs more than what you spend on lunch when working at the Cafe and feel your head clear a little.

You watch the sun start to rise, the room filling with a warm orange glow and smile. You've got a lot of phone calls to make and people to deal with today, but the little things like this are always worth living for.


I'm going to end this thread earlier than I wanted to, mainly because I haven't been feeling well today (The "QM Curse" catching up to me),.. But I plan on continuing The King of Fighters Quest: Reborn in the near future, sometime next week. The bios for the extensive cast of original characters will also be in the OP of the next thread.

I deeply thank the anon that stuck with this thing for every session, I thank G-Mantle for showing up for a little bit and will be around to answer questions.
Thanks for running. Hope you feel better soon.

Thank you for running this. I can't wait for those bios and are you going to add movesets as well?
File: Spoiler Image (71 KB, 460x555)
71 KB

Forgot to add to check my Twitter account in the thread for any announcements and hope to be back running this next week, maybe 6/28/16 @ 10 AM PST/1 PM EST.




Probably, yeah. It might not be finished in time for the next thread, but I do plan to have detailed movesets for everybody.

>Pic Unrelated: Rough idea of Katja's "Transformation" from >>291210

>That pic

Everytime man, everytime.

[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.