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Your name is Keiichi Hirayama. Your sister is named Airi Hirayama. The two of you are magi—humans with magic and a greater affinity for the Spirit World—and possess a bizzare tendency to cause chaos wherever you two go. Last year, through bullets, explosions and freak accidents, the two of you managed to help interrupt Japan's premier magus academy battle tournament--The Festival of Magic—thrice in a row.

To say that the Ministry of Education is furious would be an understatement. As punishment, they have forced you and your sister to undergo mandatory community service. There are ten tasks to complete and they must be all done by the tournament start date, lest you both be blacklisted from every educational institution and workplace in the entire country. You think it's absolutely retarded, but it seems like there's no choice. You and your sister must step up with your sister and overcome these trials, otherwise your future career will become nothing more than dust in the wind. The eyes of Shibuya and the spirit world are upon you both, so good luck and don't screw this up!

Previous Threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Academy%20Tournament%20Organization%20Quest
Ask fm: http://ask.fm/TwilightThorn441
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TwilightThorn
Character Details: http://pastebin.com/2cYpy4da

>5/10 Tasks have been completed.

[Objectives]
>Guard the research materials from Lady Sagisawa's School of Knowledge.
>Participate in the True Hearts' school production.
>Who is this girl stealing your food? Get some answers, now!

Analysis: The firth category of magic. To analyze, to identify, to gather information, to perceive. Practitioners of Analysis aim to make their techniques as subtle by possible. Knowledge is power and Analysis is criminally powerful in the right hands, but there is little value in acquiring information and then getting killed.

Illusion: The sixth category of magic. To obfuscate, to alter perception, to obscure. When magic was re-introduced to humanity, a man discovered he could interrogate his foes by breaking their minds with painful illusions. Shortly afterwards, he discovered that Illusion magic is not untraceable, for it leaves scars on both the mind and the soul.
>>
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>>Resume being the present Keiichi Hirayama.

Where we last left you, you were busy being dumbstruck at the sight of an unknown girl raiding your fridge. Several seconds flow by and nothing changes at all. It is as if every nerve in your and her bodies have ceased to work. The two of you stand ramrod-still in your poses; your hand still pressed on the light switch and the girl with her grubby little paws bathed in the cool air of the fridge.

An apple falls to the floor with a dull thump. It rolls across the kitchen floor and comes to a stop at a table leg. It is ignored.

You feel like you should say something. Your mouth only makes a few small twitches. Nothing comes out. You see the unknown girl make some tiny movements and conclude she is in the exact same position.

“Onii-chan?” Like a voice from the heavens, your sister arrives. “What are you doing in the kitchen—”

She enters the room and her actions screech to a halt. She stands next to you, her mouth gaping like a confused goldfish. Unlike you, she recovers quickly.

“Onii-chan, who is that?” She cries, pointing to the mysterious girl.

Warmth and energy flood into your exhausted limbs. It’s as if a giant taut iron wire in the air was suddenly cut in half.

>>Keiichi: Act.

>Point your handgun at the girl.
>Shoot the girl with your handgun.
>“Airi, get ready to fight!”
>Switch off the lights.
>Walk out the room and go back to bed.
>Custom option.
>>
>>1226171
>>Point your handgun at the girl.
>Switch off the lights.
>>
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>>1226171
>>Shoot the girl with your handgun.
>>
Writing now...
>>
>>1226171
>Point your handgun at the girl
>>
>>1226169
>suddenly a new op pic after 9 threads
>>
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Your handgun materializes in your right hand, the barrel aimed squarely at the mysterious girl’s chest. She immediately freezes up, her facial expression appearing to be a mixture of mostly shock and displeasure. You fix her with a glare born from the exhaustion of waking up too early and enmity of being accused of a crime you didn’t commit.

“Put your hands up.” You bark. Airi stares at you, then back at the girl. She sees the food scattered around her, puts two and two together and looks spectacularly irritated. Over near the fridge, the mystery girl complies. Her hands are darkened with smudges of food.

“Hey, who are you exactly?” You demand, taking a few steps forward. “How did you get in here?”

The girl does not respond. She does not look particularly frightened. Is this a human or a spirit? Furhtermore, does she think she can take on the two of you at the same time?

“Are you the one who’s been stealing our food over the past few days?” Airi says, “Have you been taking my muesli bars?”

The mystery girl merely scowls at your sister. You see her inch back towards the fridge. Your grip on your handgun tightens. “I’m warning you—” You growl.

The girl lunges towards the fridge and hurls a bag of tomatoes at you and your sister in a backhanded motion. In the same instant, your instincts kick in and you fire.

>Roll 1d30 to fire.
>Best out of three.
>>
Rolled 15 (1d30)

>>1226309
claiming waifu
>>
Rolled 17 (1d30)

>>1226309
>>
Rolled 12 (1d30)

>>1226309
>>
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The tomatoes sail through the air like rocks fired from a catapult. You and Airi dodge them with ease. The wall behind you is not so lucky and gets splattered with raw tomato guts. It would not look out of place in a horror voice scene, if it weren’t for the sweet, vegetable scent radiating from the mashed pulp and steadily flowing juice.

Airi cries in horror. Those tomatoes were on sale or something. Not only must she buy them again, but she has to buy them at an increased price. The thought of it all is enough for her to form blood shurikens in her hands and toss them at the mysterious girl.

The girl scampers to her left, nimbly dodging your attacks. Your first shot busts through the fridge, ruining the interior. Your second shot is more accurate, clipping the girl in the side. She slumps to the ground, her head colliding against the floorboards with a dull thump.

You and Airi run over, but before either of you can do or say anything, you see the girl’s body dissipate into faint white particles. She quickly disappears from sight and you are left in the kitchen with ruined tomatoes, a confused sister and a busted fridge.

“Uh, we won?” You say, a little stupidly. “Problem solved, I guess.”

“That was the food thief, right?” Airi asks. “How did she get in here in the first place?”

“I…I have no clue.” You admit. “I’m starting to think she wasn’t even real.” The damage tells you otherwise.

“We really need to update the security around this place.” Airi says.

“We just updated them last week before Akasha left.” You mutter. Your forehead is starting to hurt. “You know what, let’s clean up this place and go back to sleep.”

And that’s exactly what you and Airi do. The look on Airi’s face when she realizes the food inside the fridge suffered collateral damage is funny. Then you realize it meant a weaker breakfast the next morning and it ceases to be so.
>>
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You slump on your bed, tired. You go to sleep. Your dreams are peaceful and imageless. The sound of traffic and wildlife wakes you up the next morning. You get up, put on your school uniform, mumbling about how ties are the worst fashion implement designed by man.

You then sense the presence of someone behind you and it’s neither your sister nor your mentor. You slowly turn around to someone who is red-haired, wearing a navy hoodie and is also the girl from last night. She also looks ready to give you a black eye.

“Wha—”

“You utter bastard!” she roars, throwing her fist forward. “This is for putting one in me!”

>“Oh, you want to get your ass kicked again?”
>“Who the hell are you?”
>“Airi, help!”
>“Wait, can we talk this out like reasonable people?”
>Punch.
>Grapple.
>Shoot (again).
>Custom option.
>>
>>1226420
>>>“Oh, you want to get your ass kicked again?”
>>“Who the hell are you?”
>>
>>1226420
>“Wait, can we talk this out like reasonable people?”
>Grapple
>Restrain her
>>
>>1226420
>Grapple.
>"Airi! She's back!"
>>
>>1226420
>>1226426
>>
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>>Keiichi: Grapple.

You evade the fist by sidestepping. Then you charge forward and proceed to grab the mystery redhead around the waist. A few bodily movements here and there and you’ve both on the floor, you pinning the girl down with an arm around her neck in a chokehold. It seems that all those hours of being beaten around the training fields by your mentor in close combat weren’t a waste after all.

“Airi, help!” You yell. “She’s back!”

“Get off me!” The mystery girl yells, struggling and kicking against you. It’s getting difficult to maintain the position. You squeeze tighter and she makes a strangled, furious gurgle from her throat.

“Shut up!” You shout back. “Where did you pop out from? Was is that gem Shesmur licked? Or was it that half a stop sign?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The girl growls.

“Don’t bullshit me. We only started finding food missing after we brought those research materials in our house. That means you had to come from one of them!” You hiss. “Was it the tongs or was is that slimy green stuff?”

“You comparin’ me with snot?” The girl cries, outraged beyond belief. “Fuck, what did I deserve to get such a shitty master?”

“The only shitty one here is you!”

“And you locked me in that cabinet without firin’ me, either! I oughta lodge a complaint!”

“Firing you?” You pant. Now it’s your turn to ask what the hell she’s talking about. “The hell? You’re not my employee! I’m not your boss, either! You’re just a common thief!”

“I’m your new revolver, you absolute dumbass!” The girl explodes, her spittle crashing into your face. She gives you a kick and your shin screams. “Now let me go already!”

>“Impossible. Stop lying!”
>“Really? Then tell me your specs.”
>“Airi, call the lost child helpline!”
“If you don’t tell the truth I’m going to bash you over the head.”
>Punch her.
>Release her.
>Custom option.
>>
>>1226538
>>“Really? Then tell me your specs.”
>>
>>1226538
>>“Really? Then tell me your specs.”
>Talk esoteric gun shit that would normally only come up with Akasha-Alea.
>>
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>>1226538
>“Airi, call the lost child helpline!”
I'm unsure about this development
>>
>>1226538
>>“Really? Then tell me your specs.”
>>
>>1226538
>“Really? Then tell me your specs.”

We Upotte now
>>
Ugh, sitting down is painful for me at the moment. Sorry guys, I'll have to call it here for now. Consider this something of a preparation for the real meat of the session tomorrow. 9:30 pm UTC start as usual.
>>
>>1226599
Well thanks for running TT. See you tomorrow. What's causing the pain?
>>
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>>1226599
On a scale of 1 to pic related, how bad is it? Sucks if it causes you to call early.
>>
>>1226599
Bah. Just two hours before I got home. Anyways; hope I manage to join in on the next thread.
>>
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Of all the things you were expecting her to say, it wasn’t that. The absurdity of her statement causes you to pause in shock. In that crucial moment, your focus slackens. She takes the chance to elbow you in the gut, causing you exhale sharply and loosen your grip around her neck. She then wriggles out of your pin and retreats to the door. The two of you end up staring each other down, bodies ready for another clash.

Now, what should you do here? Draw your trusty handgun and fire? Rush forward for a solid punch? Throw your bedside lamp and watch it shatter into pieces against the girl’s forehead? Er, maybe not that one. Airi picked it up at a discount and would murder you if you broke it deliberately.

The seconds tick by. The girl’s eyes are darting to and fro, searching for an exit. You breathe in and out. The brief respite, tense as it is, is slowly cooling the adrenaline in your system, giving you time to think. It's tempting to get into another fight--something that all magi struggle with during times of conflict--but is that really what you should do here? The last time you ‘defeated’ this girl, she faded away, then re-appeared here. If the same were to happen again, then both of you would get nowhere. No information, no answers and an even more pissed off redhead.

As much as you base feelings are telling you so, perhaps physical violence isn’t the solution here. You take another breath, then stand up straight. You keep a firm gaze on the girl, but relax your palms and lay them by your side.

“Let’s calm down for a second.” You say. “Fighting is going to get us nowhere.”

The girl narrows her eyes. Her gaze reeks of suspicion. She doesn't say anything.

"Look, I'm putting up my hands here. I'm extending an olive branch. I've decided not to fight anymore, okay?"

You stare back. A few more tense seconds pass. Finally, she relaxes, by a fraction. The aura of intimidation from her cools down somewhat.

“Fine.” She says. “No funny moves, got it?” She accentuates the statement with a clench of a fist.

“Right…” You mutter, not moving from your spot.

She’s still acting wary of you, but you can’t blame her for that. You harbor mutual sentiments.
>>
“So…you said you’re my new revolver.” You say to test the waters. There’s disbelief in your voice, palpable as the oxygen in the air.

“That’s right. Got a problem with that?” The girl stands up too and now you’re eye to eye. She’s half a head shorter than you. In human terms, she would look around fourteen to early sixteen years of age. Her cheeks are covered in light splotches and her irises are the same cherry as her rough, straw-like hair. A familiar presence, one you’ve detected on spirits, surrounds her. It’s confirmed. This girl isn’t human.

“Sorry, I’m having a hard time believing that.” You state, folding your arms. In response, the girl frowns and makes a scoff of dissatisfaction.

“And why’s that?” She demands.

“Because it’s impossible.” You reply.

“You sayin’ I shouldn’t exist?” The girl says, her tone aggressive again. “Why you damn boy, I oughta…” she growls.

“Okay, if you are a new revolver, then what are your specs?” You ask. The question is intended as rhetorical. The answer you receive is nothing of the sort.

It’s as if a switch was flicked in the girl’s brain. Her posture goes stiff as a board. Her stare loses its edge. She opens her mouth and words pour out like water cascading from a waterfall, steady and powerful.

“I am a Smith & Wesson Model 629-6 revolver, a double-action firearm, manufactured in the United States. Specifically, a Model 29 - S&W Classics 6 1/2" Blue. My caliber is .429 inches or 10.9 millimetres and my capacity is 6 cartridges in a six-round cylinder. I accept .44 Magnum or the .44 S&W Special. My barrel length is 6.5 inches or 16.5 centimeters. My overall length is 12 inches. My body is made out of carbon steel and my grip is plastic. As for my serial number, it’s N6296-257.”

The last number seems to echo throughout the room. There’s a moment of silence, similar to what comes after a hefty round of machine-gun fire. The girl then jolts, the switch having flipped back the other way again. She turns her head to both sides in brief confusion, before smirking and puffing out her chest.

“There, that good enough for you?” she boasts.

“…what the hell, that’s all correct.” You say, eyebrow threatening to leap off your forehead and bash into the ceiling.

“See? I told you!” The redheaded girl crows, hands on her hips, “Man, I’m great. You finally going to accept the truth?”

You press your fingers on your forehead. It does little to quell your confusion. You try that mental exercise Akasha-Alea taught you, involving reciting firearms jargon, namely caliber sizes and examples of weapons that go with them. You manage to regain some of your composure.

“Just to be clear, if you’re a revolver spirit, it means you’re a spirit of firearms.”

“No shit. Revolvers are firearms.” The girl says. “What, you don’t know that?”

“No, I do. There’s a bit of a problem, though.” You grumble. “You can’t be a spirit of firearms.”

“And why the heck not?” This girl is quick to anger, you realize.
>>
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“Because I know a spirit of firearms. She’s the only one in existence, without any subordinates or servants.” You explain.

The redheaded girl snorts. “Pfft. You’ve probably got it wrong.”

“I’ve known her for three straight years.” You rebut.

"Then she's wrong, too! I'm proof of that"

“Again, I'm having a hard time accepting this…”

“Geez, boy, just accept it already. I’m proud and I’m here to stay!” The girl announces, jabbing her chest and grinning. Her smile goes on a smug bent. “Heh, I hope your sister ain’t as dumb as you…”

“No, I need proof.” You declare. “Prove that you are the revolver.”

“Agh, why do you gotta be so stubborn?” The girl moans, scowling.

“Look, we’re under a security risk here.” You explain, teeth gritting. “If you can’t prove that you’re my revolver I’m going to throw you out of this apartment.”

“Pfft. Like you've got the guts.” The girl snorts.

“I shot you, remember?” You reply.

“Fine! Get your revolver out of the locker and I’ll show you!” The girl cries, stamping a foot on the ground.

Giving her a careful glance, you head over to your gun locker and undo the lock. You take out the revolver—untouched since your shipment of ammunition for the firearm has yet to arrive—and hand it towards the redheaded girl. You snatches it with a grunt and clenches it in her palms. Then she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and disappears.

You blink. Then you direct your gaze downwards. The revolver is lying on the bedroom ground in the same place where the girl used to be. You blink again and the girl has re materialized, now sitting cross-legged on the floor while holding the revolver in the traditional firearm safety position. Before you can comprehend this sight, or any implications of it, the girl has vanished again.

You pick up the revolver again. There’s a faint trace of mana swirling around it. How did you not notice this before?

“There!” The girl’s voice shouts inside your head, in the same fashion Akasha-Alea does. You almost jump in fright. “That enough proof for you?”

>Place the revolver inside your hyperspace.
>Disassemble the revolver.
>Open up the revolver.
>“Fine, I guess I have no choice.”
>“Nah, I still don’t believe you.”
>Custom option.
>>
>>1230073
>>Open up the revolver.
>>
>>1230073
>>Open up the revolver.
>>
>>1230073
>>Open up the revolver.
>“Fine, I guess I have no choice.”
>Akashea-Alea is either going to love you, or hate you. Given she doesn;t seem to love anything this is going to suck.
>>
>>1230073
>Enter Akasha-Alea's domain.
>Open up the revolver.
>Disassemble the revolver.
>>
>>1230073
>>Open up the revolver.
>>“Fine, I guess I have no choice.”
This feels lewd.
>>
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Everything you have learned up to this point contradicts with what you are seeing right now. Yet, the truth is undeniable. The girl is a spirit. She can transform into a revolver and back, thus labelling her as a spirit of a revolver. Revolvers are firearms. Thus, the girl is a spirit of firearms.

It’s always been hypothesized by the firearms community that spirits of firearms could exist. You’ve always known the theory to be true, albeit limited to a singular spirit that absorbs all the faith generated by humanity’s belief of firearms. But for another one to actually appear before you and not know about Akasha-Alea too…

Seriously, how is this even possible? Spirits are born from faith, so where is this girl’s faith coming from? Why is she confined to a single revolver? Why did she decide to raid your fridge and why didn’t she appear before you earlier? You groan internally. Of all the times for Akasha-Alea to be on vacation…what you wouldn’t give for her to explain things to you right now.

“Oi, you deaf?”

You jump out of your thoughts. “What?”

“I said, that enough proof for you?”


You sigh. “Fine, I guess I have no choice.” You admit, a little grudgingly. “I accept that you’re my new revolver.”

“Took you all day! About damn time, boy.”


Very few questions have been answered. Your hands start to itch. You stare at a revolver for a second. Then your thumb is on the latch and your fingers are through the frame.

“Hey!” The girl’s voice roars in your head. “What the heck do you think you’re doing?”

“Inspecting your insides.” You reply, as you open up the revolver and peer into the mechanisms. You frown a little at what you see. There are no sigils, wards or any traces of enhancements. For all intents and purposes, this is a perfectly ordinary revolver. It makes things even more confusing.

“Don’t do that sort of stuff without my permission!” The girl yells. “It’s…uh…a violation! Yeah, that’s it! You do that any further and I’m gonna sic the spirit police on you!”

>“Okay, how are you going to stop me?”
>“Fine, I understand.”
>“There is no spirit police. Only me.”
>“Hey, I’m your master.”
>“Are you embarrassed?”
>Custom option.
>>
>>1230268
>>“Hey, I’m your master.”
>>“Are you embarrassed?”
>>
>>1230268
>“Hey, I’m your master.”
>“Are you embarrassed?”
>>
>>1230268
>“There is no spirit police. Only me.”
>“Hey, I’m your master.”
>“Are you embarrassed?”
>The high Wafflegeist of guns is my spirit mentor. Not scared.
>>
>>1230268
>>“There is no spirit police. Only me.”
>>
Should we ask her what her name is? We can't just keep calling her 'revolver'
>>
>>1230291
Might as well.
>>
>>1230268
>>“Hey, I’m your master.”
>>“Are you embarrassed?”

>>1230291
Yeah, seconding this.
>>
>>1230291
Yeah, we can.
>>
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“There is no spirit police.” You say, ominously. “Only me.”

“Is that supposed to be frightening? ‘cause I’m not scared!”
The girl barks.

“No really, there isn’t such thing called the spirit police.” You correct her. “They don’t exist.”

“Huh, seriously? You humans have police.” The girl sounds surprised.

“Yeah, but the human and spirit worlds are different…”
You leer at the revolver, now getting something of a sinking feeling in your chest. “Hey, how much do you know about the spirit world, anyway?”

“Enough, I guess.”
The girl replies, in a rather off-hand manner.

“Can you speak the common spirit tongue?” You ask.

“What the heck is that?” She asks straight back.

This doesn’t forebode well. But it might not entirely be out of the realms of possibility. She might not know of her own ability to speak the common spirit tongue, like a savant. And it’s not like you’d be able to understand her if she did start reciting the laws of the spirit world or whatever…

Wait, why are you making excuses for her?

“Anyway, you said I was your master. I’m the one in charge of maintaining you.” You continue, ignoring your previous thoughts, “Why the issue with opening you up?”

“Like I said, you need that stuff with my permission.”

“…are you embarrassed?”
You say, a hint of a grin forming on your lips.

“What? No, of course I ain’t! Perish the thought!”

“Uh-huh, and my mentor isn’t the cruelest Waffegeist in the entire spirit world.”

“What’s a Waffegeist?”


You stare at the firearm again. “It means ‘weapon spirit’ in German or something. Weapon spirits call themselves that.” You tell her. This girl...does she really know nothing about her own kind? Another thought then strikes you. “Hey, why didn’t you get embarrassed when I cleaned you?”

“Oh, that was you?”

“What do you mean, ‘that was you’? Didn’t you feel it when I disassembled you from head to toe?”


“Nah, I think I was asleep at that point.” The girl says. “I only woke up a while after that. But I was wondering why I felt so good. So…uh…thanks, I guess.”
>>
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“Oh, you’re welcome.” Huh, you didn’t think she was capable of something like that. It’s a little touching.

“But hey wait a minute, I just remembered you shot me!” She cries.

And there goes that nice feeling. Ah, whatever. “You were the one who threw our tomatoes at us.”

“Yeah, you have a point. Shouldn’t waste food like that.”

“No, I think you’ve missed the point…ah, whatever.”
You sigh. “A right and wrong cancel each other out. I guess we’re even now.”

“Yeah, we are...”


Not knowing what to say next, the two of you lie in silence for a while.

“I’m Keiichi Hirayama. Just call me Keiichi.” You suddenly announce.

“Eh? What’s this?” The girl asks.

“I’m introducing myself. Listen, if we're going to co-operate together, we might as well try to get along with each other. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“Hmmm....”

“So what’s your name?”

“My name? It’s the best! You better not forget it!”

“I can’t forget it in the first place if you don’t tell me.”

“Okay, remember it well, Keiichi. My name is…”


>Beth, of power
>Sato, of endurance.
>Holly, of magic.
>Lise, of finesse.
>Avery, of luck.
>629, of nothing at all.
>>
>>1230567
Question for the QM, the option 629 means nothing as in she's got nothing special about her, or nothing as in 'element of nothingness/void'?
>>
>>1230575
The former. It also means she wasn't named before.
>>
>>1230567
>>Lise, of finesse.
I like the name Lise.
>>
Also, go figure that the stat option that I want is the ONLY option with a non- Germanic language name.

...Screw it.

>Avery
>>
>>1230567
Holy mother of fuck these names suck
>Avery
>>
>>1230593
Oi the last two are fine. Could always write in a name, probably.
>>
>>1230567
>>Beth, of power
>>
>>1230567
>>Avery, of luck.
>>
>>1230567
>Avery, of luck.
It's Dirty Harry's revolver.

>"Do ya feel lucky, punk?"
>>
>>1230567
>Avery, of luck
>>
>>1230567
>>Avery, of luck.
>>
>>1230567
>Lise, of finesse.
>>
So when is notMadoka going to show up?
>>
>>1230662
End game when we get a pistol with variable elemental and debuff ammos.
>>
>>1230567
>Avery, of luck.
>>
>>1230634
Anon with the best taste. That Avery landslide was kind of unexpected, but it was second best name so I'm cool with ti.
>>
>>1230690
For me it's by a wide margin the worst name out of the ones listed, but I don't dislike it.
>>
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>>1230690
I thought about it, and then I got the appeal.
Still a shit though
>>
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>>1230713
>tsundere gun-nut rival from stonewolf never
>>
Ah, shit. This is fucking terrible. I thought the pain in my ass would lessen up after resting for a bit but it hasn't gotten better at all. In fact, I think it might be worse. Must be something to do with the bones down there. Sorry everyone, I can't continue today. There are people who are getting seriously worried for my health and I don't want to worry them further.

Archived Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/1226169
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TwilightThorn

I don't know when the next thread will be, but I'll keep you all updated on my Twitter.
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>>1230776
Take care.
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>>1230776
Hospital visit, man.
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>>1230776
Stop by a doctor.
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>>1230782
>>1230786
Yeah, that's my next objective. I'm hoping it's nothing serious but my luck hasn't been great so far.

>>1230662
Fun fact: I only found Avery's image seconds before I posted the stuff containing her.
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>>1230713
Appeal for me was actually a character from another quest.

>>1230776
Thanks for running anyway Thorn.
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>>1230776
cheers, boss

Hope your ass feels better.




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