And yet, just as you’re starting to get used to this eternally timeless sensation, both old and new in its infinitely stretching strangeness… a vague and distant thought lazily dredges itself up into your mind, making you recall something other than a memory. A fact. A lone, single fact, in the middle of this all-encompassing void, stronger than anything else that could possibly exist, but also weaker and more fleeting than anything that has ever dared to wedge itself in the limbo between existence and nonexistence. A lone shining truth, clinging to the extinct mind of the one stuck everywhere and nowhere at once. It’s something you feel you definitely shouldn’t let slip out of your long-departed mind, lest you become one with the void once and for all, denied of the capacity to even process thoughts without a brain.

Deprived of a present brain, deprived of your senses, deprived of a body, deprived of just about everything, floating in a featureless and unending blackness, a feather-like assertion you already know gently but firmly reaffirms itself in a world without time, space, truth or lies: without the slightest shadow of a doubt, you are a magical girl. But that, of course, raises a very important question, one you’re not very sure you can actually answer in your current state: just what kind of magical girl ARE you? What defines you, the nameless one suspended in an eternally unchanging void? The moment you begin to spin your vanished mind’s mind-gears into silent and voided action, that lone truth splits and opens, gently branching out and offering you something that had been ever-lacking in the eternal abyss: a quiet, fleeting choice.

It is now time to be bold and assert yourself as a magical girl through the miracle of decision, before the sempiternal void turns you into nothing but a forgotten memory. It matters very little if this singular happening is a product of fate or simply a coincidence, for this single choice here will surely put countless events in motion, for better or for worse, for the many or for the few. You also get the feeling that, somehow, you will surely encounter that which does not align with your nature, to aid you or to stand in your way, or maybe even both at once. And, hey, who knows? Maybe you’ll even learn something from it all. Now, vacuous one, arise and make a choice: what defines YOU as a magical girl?

[2/6]

>>6187455
[] You have a twisted obsession that is fully centered around unscrewing objects and hoarding their screws, ethics and morals and consequences be damned. You wouldn’t have it any other way. Anyone who disagrees should simply watch you in action, and if they still disagree, then they must surely be truly foolish. But you don’t care what others think of your unscrewing mania, because you’ll simply keep going. Forever. At least, until you’ve unscrewed every last screw there is to unscrew. You know what happens then, but you don’t really care, because you’ll have done what you wanted to do already, so it’s no issue for you or your twin-drills.

[] You have a deep, dark hatred towards the Sun God. You hate anyone associated with it. You hate anyone who bows down to it. You hate those who simply bask in its tyranny and do not do anything to free themselves from it. Even though you and your typewriter stand alone against the astral tyrant of yore, and against its limbs and its slaves, you will surely crush them all and grind them to paste. Death to the Sun God. Death to its ilk. Accursed be the astral bastard and its realm of brightness. You will not stand for it any longer. You are going to kill them all, smash your typewriter through their thick skulls, blot out the skies, and then off yourself, satisfied with having done what should have been done long ago.

[] The LORD commands the evisceration of all heretics and their structures, and you are more than willing to carry His orders out. After all, the impure edifices of man stand tall and most mightily, threatening to reach the very heavens! But that will not do. Not at all. You will not let that happen. You will not let this heresy continue. You will eviscerate them all with the gloved implements bestowed upon you by the LORD most high, and return it all to the state it should be in. Even though you may be but one, you shall suffer not a single heretic… even if divine punishment awaits you at the end of your task. All is for the sake of the Lord God Almighty…

[] Though your kind knows not of grace nor wings, the LORD has still entrusted you with a most vital task: closely watching over the countless, sinful little lambs tottering about unsteadily on the surface of His creations. Unseen, unheard and unnoticed, you find an infinite source of divinely-sourced joy in monitoring those who crawl about the surface of the Earth, dutifully carrying out your observations from very up close. No matter how safe they think they are, no matter how mighty they believe themselves to be… you will always have your unseeable eyes upon them at their most vulnerable. After all, the eyes watch but are never seen. Blessed be the LORD!

[3/6]

>>6187457
[] Putting it bluntly, you have a fetish for the spreading of fake news and misinformation, and a truly masterful penchant for their creation. The truth, any kind of truth, is your sworn enemy, and from your consequence-free (for now) nowhere-fortress, you will bury it in a torrent of lies and misdirection. But why? Why go to such lengths to spread damaging fakes about everything about everyone, as the solitary keyboard warrior you are? Because you're a dork who finds it funny, that's why. You don't need another reason. If those who you have wronged ever get their hands on you, well, you're completely and utterly fucked, but it is what it is.

[] You are a singing and dancing idol-maid, skilled in the arts of entertainment and cleaning. Cute, adorable, bright (literally) and ever-cheerful, you strive to protect the world and its inhabitants from ugliness, evil and pollution. Blessed with the mysterious and ever-shining power of brutal war crimes, you solemnly swear to banish all the no-good baddies back to whatever evil realm they came from, by means of treating international treaties like a checklist. You don't see anything wrong with that, and you don't really get why people complain when you tie up no-gooders and shoot them in the back of the head, or when you drop cluster munitions into their hideouts in residential areas, but that just drives you to try even harder to make the world a better place. After all, war crimes are always right if you're on the side of justice!

[] You are a pioneer skilled in the arts of petroleum, keeping alive the spirit of those who came before you. Knowing not of hate or dishonesty, and knowing not of prejudice or compassion, you strive to let the world know of the glory of petroleum, which you are most fond of. How? By carrying out the task you were created for and which you bear your foam pickaxe for, a most noble endeavour indeed: drowning the world in your beloved black gold. And quite literally, too: you believe a 20 kilometer-deep ocean of petroleum, covering the entire surface of the planet, should make your predecessors quite satisfied indeed, in addition to serving your ultimate goal quite well.

[] You are a bringer of prophecy, a spreader of gospel and a herald for Churnhood, a god most great and mighty. It is your most holy task to churn and prepare the land for His incoming manifestation. His arrival cannot be stopped. It cannot be opposed. The false star’s arrival cannot be delayed. The signs will soon become apparent, and you will speak of them for the world at large, though salvation may be a lost cause. For when His light arrives, and though its shape is poor, all will be churned and none shall be spared. Does it matter that you're just really bored and fabricating all of this on the fly? Not really. You're still going to go ahead with it, after all, no matter what it leads to. You don’t have anything better to do, after all.

[4/6]

>>6187459
[] You have a strange affinity towards indiscriminate friendly fire, merciless brutality, endless poverty, silently-speaking sticks and nicely-preened business suits. You also really like your fellow magical girls, and hold them in high regard, especially when it comes to your goal: finding a reliable and affordable cleaner’s who will fix your perpetually-damaged business-themed outfit. You also worry greatly for the state of the trout population wherever you go, conducting yourself as you believe a trout-counter and magical girl should conduct herself. Of course, you’re not really sure if you’re doing it properly, so the only solution is to ask your stick for advice, but he keeps telling you to murder everything and everyone in your path. You are also mildly troubled by the fact that your antlers keep getting you stuck in doorframes. Nothing seems to work in your favour unless you force it to, but you keep going, all for the sake of that suit and those trouts…

[] You are not a big fan of the government. Or laws. Or orders. Or anything or anyone that tells you what to do. But, the one thing which you despise the most is written communication: you believe it is a sign that humanity has grown overconfident and become stupidly worthless, so it’s time to pull the rug from under its feet by causing a catastrophic global breakdown in written communication. How? By inhaling unhealthy amounts of candy, to which you are impervious to, while scrambling as much text as you can get your hands on with said candy, of course. You sneer at love, proper communication, self-preservation, friendship, respect, order and humanity, all in order to reach that communication-destroying kaboom…

[] You want to die, forever and permanently. You never gave your consent to living or existing. You also never wanted to be a magical girl, a human, a living being, or anything like that, and since you refuse to participate in anything you oppose, suicide is the only option you consider proper and righteous. To you, even this state of bodiless ever-floating vacuity is an intolerable violation of your autonomy, seeing that not only did you never accept this situation, in which a non-present mind and choice are being forced upon you, but those stupid losers who stuffed you in here expect you to work for them. Fuck that, and fuck them all. You’re out, even if they drag you out and punish you for every attempt on your own life, which you firmly believe is what will happen. But you don’t care, so you’re going to try to end it all until you can finally return to not existing at all. No matter how many times it takes to end this farce, you will not idly stand by to suffer the tyrannical stupidity of life and existence.

[5/6]

>>6187461
[] You strongly believe there must have been some kind of clerical error in the paperwork leading up to this very moment, as you are quite sure you are not a magical girl, but a magical boy. Perhaps your not-so-masculine appearance led to that error, but leaving such trivial matters aside for the moment, your main concern is wiping unsafety from the face of the Earth in order to return safety to its rightful spot of preeminence. Indeed, you consider your safety-first mindset to be quite conductive for your goal, which you calmly but diligently work towards while making sure to not shame your predecessors, whose efforts and sacrifices made it all possible in the first place. Your only sources of aid are your great knowledge of safety rules and regulations, and your unsafety-banishing magic, but even though the path ahead might be rough and unclear, you know very well what you must do, and you shall go forth without haste or delay.


[] In the midst of a myriad of possibilities, overwhelmed by the incomprehensible miracle of decision, your long-extinct mind-structure wavers, bringing your decision-making process to a halt. And yet, though its otherwise steady movement may have stopped on your end, your unspoken will is still carried out through the mysteriously silent whispers of the ever-present void, bringing forth miracle upon a miracle. And those whispers say that what defines you is none other than… (Write-in)

[6/6]

>>6187462
>[] In the midst of a myriad of possibilities, overwhelmed by the incomprehensible miracle of decision, your long-extinct mind-structure wavers, bringing your decision-making process to a halt. And yet, though its otherwise steady movement may have stopped on your end, your unspoken will is still carried out through the mysteriously silent whispers of the ever-present void, bringing forth miracle upon a miracle. And those whispers say that what defines you is none other than… (Write-in)
A love for motherhood. Creating new life is the greatest blessing any God or demon can give. You want to be a mother, you want to protect mothers and children, you want to be the best mother ever. The more, the merrier!

>>6187471
Supporting

>>6187454
>You have a deep, dark hatred towards the Sun God. You hate anyone associated with it. You hate anyone who bows down to it. You hate those who simply bask in its tyranny and do not do anything to free themselves from it. Even though you and your typewriter stand alone against the astral tyrant of yore, and against its limbs and its slaves, you will surely crush them all and grind them to paste. Death to the Sun God. Death to its ilk. Accursed be the astral bastard and its realm of brightness. You will not stand for it any longer. You are going to kill them all, smash your typewriter through their thick skulls, blot out the skies, and then off yourself, satisfied with having done what should have been done long ago.


I was torn between this and larping as Eris via the obsessed with lies thing but this sounds great lol

>>6187454
>You have a deep, dark hatred towards the Sun God. You hate anyone associated with it. You hate anyone who bows down to it. You hate those who simply bask in its tyranny and do not do anything to free themselves from it. Even though you and your typewriter stand alone against the astral tyrant of yore, and against its limbs and its slaves, you will surely crush them all and grind them to paste. Death to the Sun God. Death to its ilk. Accursed be the astral bastard and its realm of brightness. You will not stand for it any longer. You are going to kill them all, smash your typewriter through their thick skulls, blot out the skies, and then off yourself, satisfied with having done what should have been done long ago.

The only light she wants is the moonlight

Voting period is still ongoing. I'll give it about 6 hours or so before closing the vote period and choosing an option. So far, it's a tie, but I'll work something out if nothing changes. By the way, archive is up already. https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6187454/ . I also made a Twitter if you want to ask things there https://x.com/MirtelcioQuest

>>6187461
>[] You want to die, forever and permanently. You never gave your consent to living or existing. You also never wanted to be a magical girl, a human, a living being, or anything like that, and since you refuse to participate in anything you oppose, suicide is the only option you consider proper and righteous. To you, even this state of bodiless ever-floating vacuity is an intolerable violation of your autonomy, seeing that not only did you never accept this situation, in which a non-present mind and choice are being forced upon you, but those stupid losers who stuffed you in here expect you to work for them. Fuck that, and fuck them all. You’re out, even if they drag you out and punish you for every attempt on your own life, which you firmly believe is what will happen. But you don’t care, so you’re going to try to end it all until you can finally return to not existing at all. No matter how many times it takes to end this farce, you will not idly stand by to suffer the tyrannical stupidity of life and existence.

I wanna see her be a lazy yet smart type character.

>>6187471
+1