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On a similar note, got any examples of what an average magical girl could do, in terms of pure physical hijinks? Are we like, Heroic Spirits from Fate? Marvel superheroes? Etc
I'd support just RNGing the pairings for now. It's not like the pairs are set in stone based off of this singular event, after all.
The Detention Club should thank her for helping with recruitment.

Also ye, one of my initial ideas was a Light Girl cult leader, so things could definitely have gone even crazier huhuhu
So, I'm curious.

Considering how committed you are to the setting, would you keep going even if there was only one player still kicking?
Hm, maybe a step too crazy, too early.

But iz k, she's a Light Girl.

Nonsuch was the sort of person to double-dip.

When she ate French fries, the fries were just a delivery mechanism for the ketchup. When she ate cookies, the cookies were tastier on the second soaking of milk. When she ate nachos, it only made sense to get both ends of the tortilla chip ladened with salsa, once all was said and done. Of course, she wasn’t a psychopath. Sushi avoided her two-dip clause.

Miseria and humanity did not.

High on the overpass, the paragon watched, a brash wind toying with her golden locks. Shadows writhed and rose, bubbling from the depths of an evil bog, bursting out. They seeped deep into the consciousness of those salarymen driving home after another late night spent overworking and then overdrinking. A miracle, indeed, that even to this day, people would drive home buzzed, on the precipice of collapse. She hefted her hammer, awaiting the telltale swell, the gradual sway. What must it feel like, to be so thoroughly consumed by a monster, when one was already consumed by society itself? What must it feel like, to be suddenly plunged into the depths of despair, plummeting into a pit that offered only self-termination? What must it be like then, to see a singular ray of light shining through, saving you from that brink?

The Miseria swelled, gorging itself upon the balding man’s regrets and ineptitudes, his day of humiliations and disappointment providing ample fuel. It ballooned out of proportion, shadows stretching further and further, before…

Pop!

A hammer smashed through its corpulent form and buried itself in the car’s hood. Thoroughly crushed, the engine didn’t even let out a whimper before the car grinded to a stop, any errant flames smothered by the sheer invisible mass of a Sweet Arm.

And, as for the man inside?

His airbags were deployed upon that freak accident, his nose broken against those inflatable bags. No mercy for the drunk drivers, after all! And, on the topic of double-dipping…

“Hello, this the police? I’d like to report a traffic accident west of 182.”

…she ended the call before the dispatcher could ask any more questions. Dropped the burner phone, allowing the truck underneath to crush it flat.

Now, drained of all happiness, having lost their own car, about to face a drunk driving charge, and likely going to enjoy their tenure in the hospital, with all the fees that their insurance wouldn’t cover, where would that man go? Nonsuch let out a cheery whistle, her tune mixing with the roar of traffic, the distance hymn of sirens.

They would go, seeking the help of a hero.

And she would be waiting, offering them the chance to reclaim their ideal.
Eyo, so do the light peeps wait for a post from Cami to start things off, or are we free to go do whatever?

Struck by a desire to cook, when I should've been asleep three hours ago.




There was only the slightest of shrugs from Serenity in response to her foe. She didn’t like his type either, the elusive, indirect, annoying type. Archers were proper battlefield threats, and in formation, presented a storm that had to be braved. Knife-throwing rogues though?

“Go lick your knife and save me the trouble.”

No one made a formation out of those; they neither had discipline nor accuracy, and only served as distractions, too drunk on buffoonery to even work as proper assassins of mages. All they had were a bag of tricks. Renar did too, of course, but at least he had the confidence in them to strike in close combat from the openings it created! This, however? Black smoke curled over the chaos of the battlefield and in response, Serenity leapt back herself. Not to retreat, but to mirror Steffen’s positioning. Her work was defensive until there was a greater opportunity, and under the smoke, her opponent could simply circumvent her if she remained still and cautious!

His daggers flashed through the smoke, his form lost within the shroud.

One clanged off the shield, a second missed as she slanted her form, and the third Serenity headbutted, the steel insufficient for piercing one of the sturdiest pieces of armor she had. Without hesitation, she kicked up the two knives that had dropped close to her. She flung one into the throat of an unlucky mercenary at her flank (lucky shot, she’d need more training to make that toss consistent), while the second she withheld, waiting for the smoke to clear and for her opponent to reveal themselves once more.

How strange it was, getting into a knife-throwing fight in the middle of a battlefield populated by cursed giants and madmen. But until the bastard Gerard and Steffen fought was felled, she would make sure that rogue before her was occupied.
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