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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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>> No.47599848 [View]

>>47599788
Only people who where there could explain it with any semblence of truth, which where: Urist, Blanc, Unconscious Shovel Knight..... Sadly, we couldn't hear Blanc do that explanaition...

>> No.46281876 [View]

>>46281833
WHAT THE FUCK.
VERT WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU MONSTER.

>> No.44296682 [View]

>>44296638
>[ ] [BLANC]

>> No.43683576 [View]

>>43683563
Anyway, your goddess-ly duties include keeping an eye on up-and-coming groups and underground movements. You count yourself very lucky in this regard. In other more realistic universes, goddess-led nations surely have to deal with the threat of insurrection and/or fanatics who want to kill goddesses (or at least punch them in the face).

With how Gamindustri is preternaturally geared toward gaming, cute girls doing cute things, and wacky fanservice shenanigans, you and your fellow goddesses don't have to worry about that kind of thing, save for the odd incursion by Arfoire and her ilk. The only groups you have to keep a tight leash on are things like the 2DPD Brigade ("Two-Dimension Pig Disgusting," which rejects the big-eyes-small-mouth archetype to idolize some fantastically grotesque thing with pronounced noses and wide mouths), or the Miniskirt Crusaders or the Ponytails Are Justice Group (whose aims are self-explanatory), and THAT consists of making sure they don't get too excited-

"Fire at will! FIRE AT WILL!"

... on the flip side, you have to deal with groups that take their passions to a whole other level. Groups like the "What Is The Identity Of This Mysterious White Liquid?" Order.

You twirl through the air, dodging thick streams of viscous white liquid that's the bastard child of some fermented alcoholic sap and whatever other nasty shit they're packing in it. Dammit, that was way too close. Whatever goddamn rifles or cannons or hoses they're using have got /range/; you thought you could outdistance them at this height, but you're just a big target. And say what you will about this perverted order, but they've got members to spare and the strategic knack of guerrilla fighters- spotters on the rooftops, snipers nested in higher floors, and photographers all over the place, ready to immortalize you the moment you get covered in ~mysterious white liquid~ (everyone knows damn well what it LOOKS like, even if they don't know what it is).

(Cont.)

>> No.36865814 [View]

>>36865788
You are Blanc, CPU White Heart, patron goddess of Lowee, a nigh-immortal being of immense power, and you are apparently not allowed to sleep in for one of the first goddamn days in your shitheaded life because someone's knocking quite urgently on your bedroom door.

"Miss Blanc? You've, uh, you've got a visitor." Your head of security knocks on your door again. She doesn't know her own strength, so you're kind of worried she's just going to break the door into splinters one of these days. "Says it's urgent. She won't be dissuaded."

[ ] [GO AWAY] Have your security tell this person to fuck right off. She can wait her turn just like anyone else.
[ ] [.................] Feign sleep. That'll get them ALL to fuck right off. You're the goddess, you can do this kind of shit.
[ ] [OKAY FINE] Well, you're not going to get any goddamn rest, so you might as well shift your skinny ass and see what's so "urgent."
[ ] [GIMME A MINUTE] Stall. You'll take your sweet-ass time getting up. It can't be THAT important.
[ ] [WRITE-IN]

>> No.36154217 [View]

>>36154201
"It's as she says," Ester intones gravely, actually sounding like a responsible adult rather than a happy-go-lucky Japanese schoolgirl. Who would've thunk. "I'm afraid this can't wait. I know you have your orders, but CPU White Heart will understand."

"Y-Yes! Right away!!"

As one guard scampers off and the other does his best impression of a competent guard (you're pretty sure he fails), you feel Ester place a steadying hand on your shoulder. "Thanks, little sis. I've got this from here."

... oh, thank Armok, you're not sure you're quite capable of putting words together at the moment.

You're content to stand back when the guard quickly escorts you inside, and when Blanc herself hustles out to the Basilicom's darkened main hall to meet you, looking like she threw her clothes on in a hurry. She IS a little miffed at first, but, well.

"Dark purple motif. Red crystals. Gold trim." Blanc's monotone doesn't quite hold up; there's a sort of simmering anger present as she glares at the hogtied cultists. Thankfully, it's not directed at either of you. "Please tell me it's not what I think it is."

The Dragon Warrior shakes her head. "Sorry, CPU White Heart. They're Arfoire fanboys."

... you'd have thought that 'cultists' would be the better term for it, but whatever. Either way, Blanc's wide awake now, and she remains so as Ester passes over the evidence- the tools and the gift box's contents- and describes what went down at the Lowee Snowfields. You don't have a whole lot to add as she keeps talking, so you look at the frescoes again for what feels like hours.

(Cont.)



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