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/qst/ - Quests

It's late 2020, and LA burns! Time is running out of time as the walls close on the City of Angels and the entire country. You, the humble Porfirio Ramirez, low level car enthusiast and illegal immigrant divorcé, are making a break for the deserts outside of the seemingly endless sprawl of Greater Los Angeles. So far, it hasn't been easy.

Law enforcement in the area has totally collapsed. The streets are dominated by a combination of insane looters, emerging factions, Revolutionary groups, and the myriad other threats that come with the 2nd US Civil War. What's left of the authorities are fortifying the narrow passes outside of the region and looking to seal your fate. The only opening is the far off Banning Pass, closer to the Arizona Border than your native San Fernando and so dangerous that nothing short of a foreign military could hope to seize it.

Normally, someone crazy enough to Escape from the Valley like this would be driving a badass muscle car, reinforced with armor plating and modded to have top of the line performance. Unfortunately, you've been short on cash (the divorce was hard) and are driving a leased junker that would have been repo'd if it weren't for the country collapsing. The armor plating fell off somewhere around Burbank and it's a miracle your car even starts.

The one bright spot has been the friends you've made along the way. Early on you picked up a random passer-by that was going to be devoured by a drugged out horde of vagrants (just another day in LA) who was secretly working for some kind of criminal/terrorist/espionage organization and has given you a mysterious envelope that will help you out of the city. Later, in the hills by Glendale, you managed to get to a crashed LAPD chopper in time to help rescue one of the passengers and gain the help of a one-woman-army and her arsenal, a vital resource when you're being shot at with every passing mile.

Recently, things haven't been looking so good. You've run into some bad hombres from the Cartel who have dealt horrible damage to your vehicle, temporarily debilitated your companion, and who are currently hunting you down as you're trying to escape the other dangers of LA, such as warring factions and zombie-like hordes of the homeless! It's in times like these you count on the help of your Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. After all, it's prayer, not overpriced mechanics you ignore, that keep your car running!

You're currently fighting your way through the aptly named City of Industry industrial zone. It's a violent warzone of Cartel gangers, the homeless hordes, and the Revolutionaries, with you in the middle. Only a madman would try to Escape from the Valley by moving yet further through it, into the Redlands region and out through the Banning Pass, but they don't call you Lunatic Porfirio for nothing!

[A 2nd US Civil War Gaiden]
Explanation from QM: I literally wasn't on /qst/ for the past couple of weeks. I had to conscript someone into getting this thread up. I have the next update done, so expect that within a short time. Expect updates and the like to be slow generally, as usual as of late. The thread is still "up" though. If you noticed, I rolled a bunch of different things that would be choices on their own into selection, so this update is a bit extra (went long and had some fun with it, in part due to the inability). As that one old(?) movie put it, "Bigger, Longer, and Uncut."

Even though it may seem like it, I haven't gone out for the proverbial pack of smokes and left. That's not the right analogy. It's more like, shit, I don't know, I am... being held hostage? Yeah, by an evil Iranian terrorist group! Just like that one movie. Or are we supposed to hate the Armenians now? I don't know. Oh, and they're forcing me to drink copious quantities of alcohol against my will as part of a dastardly plan to... I'm not sure this analogy is working. Actual writing I suppose it must be, then.

Btw, I got the previous one archived, as much as a disappointment as that was...
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You need to get out of here fast. The Cartel does not mess around, and if they're looking to kill you, they won't let up just because you took an unprompted tour of the railroads. But what use is there getting a head start escaping them if your junker breaks down on the way there? As stupid as it sounds, you think you're going to try and see if you can slip your car into that depot and do some quick repairs.

"Jill, we're pit stopping!"

"Ramirez, are you- you know what? Fine. I trust you."

You brake carefully, making sure you don't overdo it on the loose ground beside the rail. You're not a professional, but even you know that you have to be extra careful on loose surfaces. That, and you're not even sure that your car can survive stopping too hard without something in the engine getting knocked loose or something. You arrive at the entrance of the depot after a quick U turn and some slow off-roading.

"There, on the right side, that metal garage door by the side road. It looks like a loading area of some kind."

You drive to what is the only obvious entrance (for cars) and get out, checking behind you to make sure nobody's following. You don't see any obvious way to open it, other than a blood stained, smashed area of wall with exposed wires.

"You think you can lift the door from the bottom? Just enough for me to slip this under." It looks like Jill grabbed the jack from the trunk.

"Yea, yea!" You don't want to look like a weakling, especially in front of a woman with an injured, bloodstained arm covered in bandages. You rub your hands together, squat down, grip the bottom of the garage door, and try your best to pull it up.

"Gaaaah!" This heavy piece of mierda just doesn't want to move. You feel it buckling almost as hard as your own legs. You double your efforts, feeling like just the smallest extra push could get it lifted. You're surprised this thing is even locked, since securing random maintenance areas should be low on the 'collapse of society' list of priorities.

"Hup!" you hear. Jill uses her good arm to help you, just barely pushing the metal door up the slightest bit. It's enough clearance to let her kick the jack underneath. The second it's underneath, you let go as the metal door slams down, you yourself slamming down on the ground. Your legs feel like gelatin. "Good work Ramirez," she tells you, wiping sweat off of her forehead. "You good with jacking the door up? I'll go in and make sure the area is clear and see if I can't open it from the inside."

You briefly wonder why you get the gruntwork of pumping the jack while she goes in. Then you remember that she's down an arm (that, and needs significantly less clearance with her slimmer build and lack of a beer gut). "I'll do it..."



You work the jack up and down as fast as possible, knowing you could be followed, and lift up the door at a literal snail's pace. Jill just narrowly crawls in, knife in hand, and disappears. You briefly hear a scream, followed by silence, followed by her scurrying around the place. After a short time, you hear some kind of mechanisms activate and the metal door go all the way up.

The scene inside is an absolute mess. The light from the slowly flickering industrial lights is replaced by the sun, helping to reveal blood everywhere and signs of looting. You're startled by the sight of an emaciated, slumped over man covered in all sorts of wounds with some kind of strange blue pigmentation on his face, especially around his mouth. You cross yourself in front of this ghastly sight. "Just what the hell happened here?" you think to yourself.

"There's a repair area just around the corner. I think it's for trains, but you could probably use some of the stuff there. The car should just barely fit."

You get behind the wheel and carefully navigate this entrance, which seems to be some kind of loading area. You're not entirely sure, as there are boxes and debris everywhere. That, and bodies. There could be up to half a dozen here you guess. You narrowly round the corner (helped by not having a side view mirror) and sure enough, there's a small clearing surrounded by a mess of tables, workbenches, and tools. You can see what look like train parts, but you count yourself blessed to have anything at all to work with.

You turn off the car and prepare to work. You open the hood and ready your h-

"Ramirez, do you hear that?" You pause and listen. There's the faint, but distinct sound of motorbikes. It's slowly getting louder. "Damn, they must be following us. Stay here and keep that gun handy." She runs off around the corner while you ready your Magnum. The oversized hand cannon hardly fits in your hands, and you feel like if you shot this thing it would simultaneously obliterate both anything in front of you and all of your wrist bones. Hopefully, the Cartel just passes by.

You hear the whizzing of the gears from before and the industry sized garage door closing. You peek your head out from the corner and see Jill carefully making her way back without slipping on a pool of what you hope is just oil. Then, it's just the sight of the place slowly darkening. "Mierda!" you whisper to yourself, noticing the jack is still there. You forgot to move it earlier, and you helplessly watch as the metal door reaches it and goes no further. The entrance is now very slightly open, enough to draw suspicion.

Sure enough, the motorbike engines keep getting louder before reaching their peak. Most of them pass away, but you can hear some of them idle. You hear faint footfalls and can then see two people making their way over, visible only by their feet through the slightly open door. You grip your Magnum harder, knowing that you might be in for a fight...
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"Héctor, ¿qué coño es esto? Alguien dejó esto abierto," the first one says, apparently to some guy named Hector.

"¿Crees que se esconden aquí?" Damn it, they're about to look here.

"Tal vez," the first one says while he squats down and awkwardly tries to get a look inside.

"¡Entonces entra tú, perra!"

"Vete a la mierda, maricón."

"Ramirez," Jill whispers. "What's going on? What the heck are they saying?"

"They're suspicious," you respond, neglecting to translate the rather colorful banter.

The guy gets on his belly and crawls inside, giving you a good look of his tattoo covered face. It's definitely the Cartel.

"No hay nada aquí, Oscar."

'Oscar' grumbles as he crosses in. "¿Alguien murió aquí?" he asks himself as he scans the place with a flashlight. "Gah!" he calls out when he finds the dead guy. He leans over him, gun trained on his head, as he reaches into his pockets. These people really are psychos.

Jill nudges you, presumably not satisfied with your poor explanation. You shrug, not knowing how to respond. He gets up and continues. The flashlight passes over your corner and then pauses. You slip behind, now unable to see anything but a shadow on the wall of the pistol and flashlight cutting in and out from the flickering light. You hold your Magnum close as you pray to God that you somehow won't need to use it. Getting caught out here with no good way to escape could be a nightmare scenario...


>[Reserved Fortune] Invoked

You hear a demonic scream followed by frantic movement. You lean over the corner and see that, somehow, the dead man has woken up and is now sinking his teeth into Oscar's shoulder. He bleeds everywhere as he wrestles with the person(?), eventually getting free with a chunk of flesh torn off. Immediately, he shoots. A number of rounds hit center mass, physically knocking the flesh eater back. Somehow, it keeps moving, almost as if it were totally immune to pain. The Cartel infantryman adjusts his aim and fires on the head, sending it to the floor as its lower jaw flies off.

"¿Qué carajo?" his friend says, entering the scene.

"Este puto cadáver acaba de revivir. ¡Mira, mi hombro!" He frantically points to his shoulder in a shocking disregard of trigger discipline.

The two of them stand around for a bit, examining the loading area once more.

"Héctor, creo que he visto algo en-"

Suddenly, the corpse springs back once more despite being peppered with bullet holes and missing half of its jaw. It grabs the leg of one of the Cartel Infantry with what must be the last of its strength. This time, they're ready. The two of them train their pistols on its head and dump their mags on it. The thing's head bursts in a shower of gore as the two show no mercy. Even after it stops moving, they keep shooting and even slash it with a knife, just to be sure.

"Oscar, vamos a salir de aquí. ¡Joder!" He physically grabs his friend and pulls him out of there. "Fucking junkies!" he calls out in heavily accented English. You have absolutely no idea what kind of drugs would turn people into these sorts of things, but for once you're thankful that they exist. Everything in this world must have some kind of God given purpose, even hard drugs that turn you into a zombie, or so you think as you hear the motorbikes start up and fade into the distance.

"Porfirio, let's fix up that car and pretend like this never happened..."


You turn your attention to the car. The mess in front of you is almost as bad as what the Cartel left behind.

>Autoresolving [REPAIR] via random selections

There are a number of holes in the engine. Tubes are leaking a whole host of different fluids, and the damage to your gasket is borderline irreparable. Anyone with an ounce of sense would call a tow truck or try to push the car to a repair shop by hand over risking further damaging the car by actually trying to drive it. There's no way in Hell this car survives past today.

"How does it look?"

"Eh, it could be worse."

You get to work, starting with the most powerful tool in your kit. Using duct tape, you patch up a hole in the tube feeding oil to the engine. Having experience with this, you know that it won't actually fix it, but it should be leaking marginally less. Hopefully you can find an actual mechanic once you're out of LA. There's probably a better way to do this, like having an actual replacement tube, but this will do. Hopefully.

>Damage Revealed: Rent Tubing
>Reckoning Tubing Repair...
>Effects delayed for moderate time

Next, you take a look at the supercharger. There's some smoke coming from it, which could be a problem with that, or with your engine. Standard procedure would be to carefully remove the bulky unit sticking out of the engine and properly investigate the problem. Or something like that. Instead, you just borrow a flashlight from Jill and look to see if there's a giant crack or something obvious like that.

>Damage Revealed: Damaged Supercharger

As luck (or misfortune) would have it, there actually is a gigantic crack in one of the cylinders that forces air into the engine. It's probably been widening the entire time you've been driving, and it's likely that if you pushed the engine by continuing to [DRIVE], you would have caused further damage. You can't actually replace the unit, but you can weld that intake cylinder shut, preventing it from heating up as much and slightly increasing the lifespan of the unit at the cost of performance.

>Reckoning Supercharger Repair...
>Automatic -1 HP per [DRIVE] check avoided
>Incur minor [DRIVE] malus

"Ramirez, are you finishing up?" Her shooting hand is now properly bandaged up. "We can't waste too much time here. Every minute we spend here is another minute closer to the PLA locking down LA!"

You're still not totally sure what this 'PLA' is or what's going on, but you'll take Jill's word that it's bad...


"One last thing!"

You scan the rest of the engine. In addition to the supercharger and tubing getting damaged, you have a series of bullet holes everywhere causing random damage. Your exhaust manifold has been grazed by round, and while the hole is small now, it'll grow into a real problem later on. That might be where the smoke is coming from. In addition, the timing chain, by some kind of miracle or cosmic joke, has a section of it chipped off and is in obvious need of replacement. While you don't have a spare chain handy, you could weld something to the damaged part to make it more regular (you have no idea what the correct term for the concept is) and reduce the chance of a failure. A timing chain break is, of course, nothing short of a catastrophe. But it's held up so far, which you know because if it did fail the engine would immediately stop and you'd be currently buried in a ditch somewhere. It's high priority, but not the highest.

>Damage Revealed: Minor Exhaust Manifold Leak ~ Minor [DRIVE] Malus in high intensity driving [Boss Fights]
>Damage Revealed: Damaged Timing Chain ~ Low chance of catastrophic, car-ending failure at any time

Oh, and your washer fluid reservoir is totally useless on account of taking an especially nasty salvo of rounds. It's probably for the best, given how many actually important parts are under the hood and the reality that you haven't had a windshield in a long time. A lot of bullets have bounced around in your engine, but luckily none of them have outright destroyed it. Instead, it's made the thing a pock marked mess with a thousand different things just barely holding on for dear life. Again, divine intervention and cosmic comedy are both equally valid explanations.

>Damage Revealed: No Washer Reservoir ~ Cannot spray washer fluid (on nonexistent windshield)

There is one more piece of damage you notice. The gasket is about to blow. A large bullet is stuck in seal between the cylinder and the metal. Likely, the second that bullet's removed, whether from rough driving or thermal expansion, you're screwed. It's in an awkward spot, but you feel like somehow this repair is a little more urgent than most.

>Damaged Revealed: Damaged Head Gasket ~ Significant [DRIVE] Malus

Normally, this repair would take most of the day. Multiple days, even. You only have about five minutes, maybe. That just means you'll have to work extra fast and extra sloppy...


>Reckoning Head Gasket Repair...

You don't have any replacement parts, or even conveniently 'O' shaped pieces of metal. No problem. You reach for the bullet and awkwardly wedge it out of the hole it's formed. You can still feel some heat through your gloves. You then take a random rectangular segment of steel and weld it to the cylinder on one side. You can't actually plug up the hole properly because you're in a bad position, contorting your beer-bellied body in ways that shouldn't even be possible to stick your arm (and welding tool) in position amid the mess that is this car. To compensate, you take another piece of metal and weld that on as well.

"Ramirez, what the hell are you doing?"

"Jill, I almost finished!" you call out. "Just need another minute!"

"Alright." You can almost feel the facepalm. "Ramirez, we have to go. I'll grab the jack and then we're out of here."

You had actually forgotten about that. Hopefully you won't have to use that later, although a tire blowout would be par for the course at this point.

You manage to just barely weld on the second random piece of metal. This doesn't actually solve the problem, as these irregularly shaped bits of metal are not at all fit for this purpose, and probably aren't even the right grade of steel. It's literally junk you found and decided to keep with you, just in case. The benefit, however, is that it just barely allows you to plug up what remains with welding filler without the time consuming process of taking anything out of the hood nor the needless expense of buying proper car parts. This is again something only an absolute lunatic would do, and is barely a step above letting the hole stay plugged by a stray bullet. Therefore, this is exactly what you do.

"Are you still fixing up the engi-"

"No, I'm done!" you say, welding the last bit of filler on the gasket. You right yourself, feeling dizzy as you do so from the blood racing back into you head after staying almost upside down during the fix.

"Good." Jill puts the jack back in the trunk and helps get your stuff back in order after your slapdash repair session. It was a mess, and you really feel like you could have done a lot better, but somehow you think you did a pretty good job anyway.

>Catastrophic Gasket Failure Avoided... Till When?

You get behind the wheel, shotgun passenger beside you and Magnum at the ready. You put the key in and turn it. It makes some strange sputtering noises. You turn the key again, this time banging the dashboard with your fist and spouting Spanish language profanity...


It works!

"¡Fiu!" The fact that this car even starts is proof of a loving God, or at least one who finds your suffering amusing. You'll take it either way.

"You seem awfully- know what, never mind."

You navigate your way out of the side area you've been doing your slapdash repair job at and out of the maintenance depot entirely. On the way out, you get another look at the puddle of gore that was once some addict's head. Word on the street is that there's some potent variety of some drug that's been turning everyone into crazed madmen, but to be honest zombific vagrants are just part of the Los Angeles experience. At least this one did the service of getting the Cartel off of your back for a short while.

"So, which way are we going again?"

"I think we go left here?" You're really not too sure yourself. The lefthand path here is towards some kind of forbidden factory zone. Not that it being a restricted area really matters much here, but in any case, you're pretty much going in blind.

"To the restricted area then," Jill comments. "You know, I've been thinking. The Cartel are always crazy, but they're especially crazy around here." You take the turn. "You saw what they did to that Blue addict, right?"

"He didn't have a cabeza left. But if I shoot somebody and they come back, I'd go crazy too."

"No, it's more than that!" she comments. "Think about, why would they pursue us with motorbikes, going as far as to check up on a dumpy little place like that?"

"They're being thorough," you respond. "You should hear the stories from places like Sonora, or even Mexicali. I have family there, you know. They really are something else."

"But while the country is collapsing? I've noticed a trend, everyone's trying to carve out their own slice of LA during the chaos. From the Mayor's faction attempting to make their own state, to the Communists out in the Redlands region, to the Verdugos people. Why would the Cartel devote such resources to going after some random muscle car passing through?"

She raises good questions. You ponder this as you drive along the rail line. Along the way, you noticed the bike paths left by the Cartel Footsoldiers. You want to say there are fewer trails here than there were at the other junctions, but in truth you've been focusing on other things...


Up ahead are a number of signs forbidding unauthorized entry or tents. You're guessing that last one means there's a large vagrant population, and if they're like anything that one guy in the depot, that also means you're in for a fight. As you keep driving forward with one eye on your dashboard in case your engine temperature spikes, you notice an overturned train car. Debris of all sorts is strewn about everywhere. It looks like it was carrying consumer goods before it somehow got detached from the train it was on and tipped over. You think that it could have been a robbery. You know that criminal elements have al-

"Ramirez, watch out!"

Some madman, hidden among the debris, leaps out at your car. You barely manage to swerve away in time, braking to slow yourself down enough to avoid being knocked off of the broad railway area and totally off road. You look back, double taking at the sight of what appears to be a gaunt man wearing just his 'birthday suit' and a ballerina tutu. Again, par for the course in LA.

You keep moving forward. The area you're in is increasingly dense and industrial, although still navigable due to the rail you've been travelling along. You're not sure what exactly they were making here, but with total collapse, there must surely be valuables left mostly unguarded. You half expected there to be Cartel footsoldiers here, at least to loot, but they must be busy elsewhere. That, or this industrial zone is a little too much for them.

On the topic of the Cartel, you begin a sweep of the radio, just in case they're broadcasting to one another.

"The nukes! The nu-" Nope.


"-er filters and healing-" Definitely not Cartel.

"We're taking heavy losses in-" Voice sounds too white.

"Hector? What do you mean?" You can tell by the thick accent that this is the Cartel. "That maricón was on the search for-"

"No, not Hector. Don Hector. The comunistas are smashing our positions around the I-15, Don Hector wants reinforcements on there."

"On the Don's orders. I'll pull the guys chasing that strange car into the-"

"No, we need to hunt them down."

"Excuse me?"

"We hunt it down. You think it's a coincidence we hear a military vehicle west of City of Industry cutting people down, then some random car shooting automatic fire drives right through our territory like a demon? In the direction of the I-10? No, they working with the comunistas, I- we just don't know how. We'll be radio silent for a bit, these are your marching orders: Keep looking for them; kill on sight!"

"Understood. Shoot first, and let Santa Muerte take care of the rest. Over and out..."


"Ok," Jill says. "The Cartel thinks we're some working with the Revolutionaries, somehow, and will kill us on sight. We can expect the road to the I-10 to be bloody one."

"I guess we kind of are? We do have to give them that 'ticket,' or whatever Juan called that envelope."

"Somehow, I don't think a piece of paper's going to matter so much while interstate highways have turned into fronts and the PLA are already making their move." Again with that 'PLA' thing. You know it has to do with the Chinese and not Phat Latina Asses, although the latter seems a lot more realistic to you. "If you want to open it though, it's up to you. I really wouldn't recommend it, though."

You are mildly curious about the contents of it. This might be the only chance you have, since there's a relative calm. You're at some kind of loading area where there are small roads connecting the railway with the various workshops and other buildings that make up this industrial place. There are signs of fighting (you think someone's bloodied corpse hanging over a railcar counts) but so far there are no drug addled lunatics or Cartel Infantrymen actively shooting at you as you slow down to a crawl to navigate this stretch of track.

In addition to your choice of whether to continue along the tracks or try your luck at navigating through the industrial buildings (and whether to open the envelope), you can listen into what's going on in the wider world while the Cartel stays radio silent. You got brief previews during the sweep.

Where do you go as you push forward?
>Continue west along the tracks
>Get back on the roads and navigate the industrial region
>Stop to loot

What do you prioritize on your way?
>Trying to [DRIVE] out as fast as possible
>Taking advantage of looting opportunities
>Finding a good place to stop and [REPAIR]

Who do you tune into while the Cartel's silent?
>Mainstream News Radio
>Conspiracy News Radio
>Communist Broadcasts
>Law Enforcement Chatter

Again, this is a strange situation, but I don't think I need to beat the dead horse with repetition. And if it seems like I'm cramming a bunch of votes into one set, it's because I'm hedging in case I can't /qst/ for an extended time again. It's kind of a coin flip (that 'I have been losing' for a while now, but then again it's not me running things) so just bear with me. I appreciate any shreds of patience left.

Btw, that "Reserved Fortune" represents that mechanic I decided to throw in last second because someone asked to have a roll kept, which I allowed. It turned a crucial [COMBAT] 40 into a 73, which was enough to turn a sort of failure into a success. Hence the last second turn of fortune against the Cartel goons. The rolls in general weren't bad after accounting for that (40, 80, 66)
>Stop to loot
>Taking advantage of looting opportunities
>Conspiracy News Radio
We’re so fucked, it’s not even funny.

Also, nice to see that you’re back QM! I’m glad you didn’t leave us for that pack of smokes! Now, if only we can get some better luck to not call these last couple of threads a waste of time and effort…
>Stop to loot
>Finding a good place to stop and [REPAIR]
>Law Enforcement Chatter
But what of the Sunbelt friendo?
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>Now, if only we can get some better luck to not call these last couple of threads a waste of time and effort…
Surprisingly, you guys have been doing well on the luck front. Granted, that last second appeal by one anon did save you guys some trouble, but it still counts! I thought you guys wouldn't make it this far, but I think at this point you can probably "Escape From The Valley" as long as nothing disastrous happens. And if you've played vidjagaemz you know that making it to the end on a higher difficulty is generally rewarded (unless the dev is particularly cruel... but when have I ever been cruel? :^))

Btw, when I said that I have a hatred for people who disappear from their quests, never to be heard from again, I meant it. There are some infamous QMs who not only drop frequently, but are otherwise very good QMs. And it's not like they have literally been imprisoned or are no longer of the living, because they keep popping up to make & drop copies of their previous stuff! My hatred for them inspires me to run no matter how difficult the circumstances may be, and I am oath bound to declare if I have truly called it quits.

If you are a QM who has decided to drop a quest without announcing it, you are scum. But it is not too late to not be scum! Just post that you are dropping and give people closure! Or just get back into it. If people are glad to see even this drunkard return, then you will not be received overly poorly if you are to pick up again. Ah, yet I am ranting again...

It will return after the completion of this """"one-shot"""". I think I mentioned this earlier, but I do want to return to it (EftV does tie into SBC, but it's obviously not the same) but the current state of things is, I guess, not conducive to it. I don't want to do another half-assed kind of thing like the last SBC (or EftV) threads were. I'm kind of glad that this dumb action-movie side story is absorbing a lot of it, but doing a second one right after would give the wrong idea that I'm dropping SBC or something, as funny as it would be to run a quest about institutional crypto trading while the country collapses during the times of pic related
>I thought you guys wouldn't make it this far, but I think at this point you can probably "Escape From The Valley" as long as nothing disastrous happens.
Then I shall pray for good fortune.

If you think the disruptions are going to be regular still, then I wouldn’t mind doing the crypto-trade quest and having a chill quest absorb the dead space. If you think the disruptions are mostly over with, then I wouldn’t mind returning to the Crusaders. I trust your judgment in this QM.
Adding on to not open the letter.
Drive out and listen to the law enforcement frequency. I don't care what route we take, but we shouldn't stop to loot or open the letter.
I think we should loot. This is probably a rare loot opportunity, and we could probably use it to fix our shit or to trade for safe passage should the worst come to pass. After this, I’d doubt we’ll be stopping again until we reach our final destination.
Alright, so whenever we get back to the Crusaders, I think we should focus on getting the meth trade going in Phoenix. We’ve been pissing away our biggest advantage and resource, and it’s starting to piss me off that we’ve been fucking up hard on that front.

I also think we should have Jessie diplo Saul and the Freemen, there should be good synergy going there. Bob is also a decent pick.

I’m also hoping that we can unlock another diplo/flexible action, that’s been our bottleneck for a while and I’d like to start putting some effort into less character intense diplomatic actions (like the Phoenix meth trade). Given that we’ll probably won’t have a steady cash flow until we start selling off our MU, our second construction action is pretty much bunk for the moment.

Any thoughts lads?
QM, what’s the health status of our car, and how would another [REPAIR] affect it? I’m wondering where I should switch priority vote, so I’m wondering at the cost/benefit analysis of Repairing versus Driving as a priority.
>Stop to loot
>Finding a good place to stop and [REPAIR]
>Law Enforcement Chatter
Still unreasonably busy QM?
I’ll just take that as a yes then.
We’re on Page 10 lads. When the thread expires, I’ll give the QM a couple (2-3) of days before I archive it myself. Personally, I feel that we’ve accomplished much this thread!

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