#Character Quest

[viannasthings]

SPOILERS FOR JIYAN’S STORY QUEST!! I THINK??

I can’t stop giggling at the team names 😭😭 and the team picture is so f***ing cute istg❤️

[kairunatic]

Arachne CQ

So finally get to read Arachne CQ yey

So we start with a Fasion model event hosted by a new school Ameyoko Fassion Accademy the student here are Arachne, Ame no uzume and Tuer shen

And from the school name itself it's where students who excel in Fassion and creative flare are here

Arachne is showcasing her latest clothes from the Summer river event and it's a huge success

Back at Shinjuku Academy Mr Mononobe(who came back from his long leave) was teaching and Mr Jinn came by looking for MC cause someone was looking for them(Which is Arachne)

[honourablejester]

Though for a D&D Character Quest/Bond:

D&D 5e specifically, because it’s about deep dragons again. It’s about that regional effect of their lairs:

“Preservation of Knowledge. Books, letters, and any other physical forms of writing within 6 miles of the dragon's lair become magically charged and can't be damaged by nonmagical means.”

Because I love the nightmare fungal librarian dragons, and there’s also … I feel there’s something deeply romantic about that? The preservation of letters. Letters. I had the thought before, what if a particular deep dragon just hoarded love letters, what an incredible historical find that would be, what a beautiful library, all these hopes and dreams preserved by a dragon’s power and choice.

And. How does the dragon get the letters? Who hears rumours of a monstrous fungal nightmare dragon in the deep places of the world, and hears rumours that this dragon prizes love, and goes out to try and find that dragon? And why?

So. She’s a dwarf. An inhabitant of the deep places herself. She’s an older dwarf. She’s a widow. Not … Not tragically, not in the D&D sense, not in the ‘orcs murdered my family’ sense. Just a normal widow, who lost her husband to normal causes. Maybe he was a miner, maybe he had a mining accident. Maybe he died crossing the street. Maybe he just got sick. It wasn’t a grand thing, a heroic thing, a thing of rage and vengeance. It was … it was small, and normal, and devastating. A hole was carved out of her life, and there was nothing notable about it. There was nothing to avenge. It just happened.

She’s a normal dwarf, a woman in sturdy boots with sensible gear and greying hair. She’s not an adventurer searching for glory, she’s not a wounded soul seeking purpose or vengeance. She’s a normal woman. But that does not mean she doesn’t have a quest.

In her pack is a small, very sturdy wooden chest, bound in strong metal, and guarded against fire and most particularly water. She will guard it with her life. She will throw herself atop it to guard it from harm. She will murder anyone who takes it from her. She will claw through gods and demons to get it back if it is lost to her. It is the single most important thing in her possession, and she will kill or die for it without question.

And sometimes, at night, by the campfire, she opens it. And it’s full of …

Letters. Densely packed, neatly and carefully folded, pressed from wall to wall. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of letters, the paper varying from maybe only a few years old to clearly much, much older. Worn, battered. Creased and stained by the loving, repeated touch of fingers. Some of them are so delicate that she cannot touch them any longer, cannot dare. So many letters. So many.

What are they? Why does she carry them? Why does she bring them here, through these tunnels of mud and blood and fire and danger? When they’re clearly so delicate, so precious?

They are … They’re a marriage. They’re a life.

They wrote each other letters, you see. Not just when he was gone, or she was gone, not just when they were apart. They wrote each other letters every day. Well. Maybe not quite every day, there were days here or there where it didn’t happen, but most … most days. It was a ritual. Every evening, warm or cold, war or peace. They would sit down, either end of the dining table, and they would write each other a letter. Every evening, she would leave his by the sideboard, and he would leave hers on the nightstand. Sometimes they’d speak. Sometimes they’d smile. Sometimes they’d fume and snarl and sleep back to back instead of warm inside each other’s arms. But they would write the letters. And the next day, he would tuck her letter inside his coat, and she would tuck his inside her pocket, and they’d carry them with them. At some point in the day, between work and troubles and friendship and duties, they’d read them. All the worries, joys, furies, petty reminders and soppy romances of the night before.

Not all of them survived, obviously. Not all of them are single letters, either. It’s a lot of paper to get through, a letter a day for the length of a dwarven marriage. Some of the parchments and papers in the box are not single letters, but two or three or four, worked onto the backs and the margins and the spare corners of previous letters. Some of them are old and blotched and barely legible. Many, so many, thousands of them, are long gone now. Lost or written over or worn to vanishing. But she has … enough. So many. The most … The most treasured of them. All the way back to the start.

And she’s going to find a dragon for them. Not in vengeance. Not because a dragon killed her husband or anything like that. She’s going to find a deep dragon. And she is going to bow, and she is going to beg, and she is going to offer whatever services that dragon might require, if it will consent to guard … to guard this. To guard her marriage. To guard her husband’s …

In her clan, the goal of every dwarf is create some form of a masterwork, a thing wrought by their hands and their labour and their devotion, that will speak their name long past their deaths, that will bear witness to their … to their efforts and their passion and their life and their soul. And her husband did make such a thing. He left works to be remembered by. But they’re not …

This, she says. Cradling the box in her hands. Us. This was his masterwork. Our masterwork. Nothing had more of his time, nothing had more work of his hands, nothing had more of his love and his devotion and his life. Nothing. These words are … they are all of his soul. They are everything he was. We spoke, wrote, of everything. Every grievance, every joy, every loving thought, every petty concern, every hope and fear and dream and meal we had and every consequence of it. This is his life, this is our life. That we built with our own hands, that we put every passion and joy and labour and longing into. This is him, more than any other thing might be him. And it is paper, it is fragile paper, and I don’t want it to be lost with him. To fade away, as paper fades. I want it to stand for him. To be his masterwork. For him to be known by it for … for however long …

I’m going to find a dragon. I will search all the deepest, darkest, most dangerous places of the world, I will stand before a great creature of dreams and nightmares who may kill me the moment it sees me, just for my trespass, and it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if it kills me. As long as it sees this. Reads this. And understands … understands the weight of it.

They protect writing. The deep dragons, the fungal dragons. They understand the … the value of it, the worth a thousand times more than gold. If I can just bring these to one of them. If I can just get it close enough. That. That will be my masterwork. That will be the thing wrought by my hands and my life. That this, this most precious thing, this treasure beyond measure, will go to where it will be safe, and will be remembered.

And if that means she, an oh-so-normal dwarven woman, no hero, no adventurer, possessed of no great or ruinous purpose, must nonetheless brave all that is dark and deep and dangerous of the world? Then so be it.

This, he, was her life. And it, he, is worth her life.

Always and forever.

… Yeah. But. Is there not something so romantic about the preservation … Deep dragons would preserve so much life. So much history. Not even in the grand sense, wars and kings and battles and dates, but just … love letters. Shopping lists. Customer complaints. So much life. And if you knew one existed, if you knew what they could do … what would you choose to give them? What would you want them to preserve?

So. A dwarven widow, in search of a dragon. Not in vengeance, but in memory. For the preservation of love.

[fogaminghub]

🌸✨ Calling all Infinity Nikki fans! Dive into the Blossom Walk quest! Help Narci find the perfect Floral Stroll Shoes that tread softly on her flowers 🌼. It's an easy quest with fantastic rewards like 20 Diamonds and the Breeze-Kissed Blooms Sketch! Are you ready to bloom? 🌺👟 

[lupical-912]

Also During Yae Miko’s Quest

Paimon: Are we sure the Traveler being possessed won’t have any negative effects on her?

Miko: Ah, you really care for the little one, don’t you? I wish my friends worried about me like that.

Me: Miko. Buddy. Pal. What kind of friends do you have??? They would just let you get possessed??

[terengineer]

https://youtu.be/x6WDazOKdhw

New chick the link video!

@terengineer

[evercelle]

come with me, singing queen!

[blodwyrm]

𝔠𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔦𝔫’𝔱 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔠𝔲𝔱𝔢

[demonlordcosnime]

lets play genshim impact venti

[smart-macademia]

the key to surviving grad school (also maybe life but definitely grad school) is to pick a side quest every few months or so. something that brings you joy and that you can get better at over time, independent of whether or not your research or classes are going well. put your need for academic validation to use in a non-academic setting and everything will feel less dire and you will learn you are more than your work

[enchantingepics]

Story Prompt 1

Once upon a time, in a coastal town where the whispers of the sea echoed through narrow alleys, there lived a couple bound by the ebb and flow of life's uncertainties. It was a picturesque evening when he took her hand, the sandy shore beneath their feet, and the sun setting on the horizon painted a canvas of serenity.

Yet, beneath the beauty of the moment, a storm brewed within her. The waves mirrored the turmoil she felt, questioning the course of her life as she compared herself to the progress of friends and family. In the midst of this internal tempest, he stood by her side, a lighthouse guiding her through the darkness.

Amid seagull calls and the rhythmic lapping of the waves, he reminded her of the overlooked joys and passions that colored her existence. From teaching children about sea creatures to creating chaotic kitchen masterpieces, their shared experiences were the palette that painted their unique love story.

He, her anchor, was the personification of success in her life. While acknowledging the importance of self-love and independence, he brought an extra layer of sweetness to her coffee, making her foundation stronger. As a breeze swept through, she nestled into his side, finding solace in his silent support.

Eventually, their steps led them to a forgotten stone structure, a place that held the echoes of their laughter and the memories of their early days. As they climbed the stairs to the terrace, the world unfolded before them like a breathtaking masterpiece. The sun, a fiery red orb, cast its glow on clouds adorned in hues of gold, while birds danced in the distant sky.

In the midst of this enchanting scene, he dropped to one knee, a glint of anticipation in his eyes. His heartfelt words echoed through the stone walls as he asked her to share a lifetime together. Overwhelmed with emotion, she could only manage a tearful "Yes."

Their embrace marked the beginning of a new chapter, a union born from love's enduring journey. As tears flowed freely, the couple reveled in the warmth of the moment, knowing that the storm within her had finally subsided, making way for a future filled with love, laughter, and shared sunsets. And so, as the sun dipped below the horizon, it signaled not only the end of a day but the start of a lifetime adventure for two souls intertwined by the sea and sealed with a promise of forever.

[amezure]

lineup sketch🧍Support me on PATREON🔮

[kairunatic]

Zhurong CQ

Yey finally an update!

Zhurong CQ feels more like an SQ and it's all wholesome

But anyway lest begin

So we start with a small Backstory about the Color from outer space came to Tokyo where it's just an entity that just consumes the color around then

Then we go back to the present MC is waiting for Zhurong who arrived late chase he overslept. He plans to write an article about a recently opened art exhibit in Taito ward and he wants MC to accompany them

They arrived at Akihabara and they ran into Akiha Gongen who was helping out with the exhibition. Zhurong is impressed by Akiha color and ask if they could take a picture of him along with MC and he said yes

[psstwantsomecheese]

When burning to death in a fiery chasm isn't even the worst thing that's happened to you

[fogaminghub]

🌟🌈 Ready to tackle the First Meeting at Stoneville quest in Infinity Nikki? My latest blog post has you covered! From unlocking the quest to styling victories, I've got all the details you need for a fantastic gameplay experience. Dive in now! 

[lupical-912]

*Also During His Quest*

Me: Bruh, they are not gonna make me feel sad for a robot crab

Me later, after learning about everything: BRUH THEY’RE MAKING ME SAD FOR A ROBOT CRAB